Freely Offered
"So why are we going to Giles?" Max demanded testily. Angel glanced over at her from his spot in the driver’s seat. He was a little tired of the constant mood swings she’d been going through since getting out of the hospital. But he understood why she was going through them. The diagnosis of a torn abdominal muscle had severely limited Max’s activities. Sometimes the slightest movement could be extremely painful for her. And it was taking longer to heal than they’d expected. Add to that the fact that morning sickness had finally reared it’s ugly head, plus the need for more sleep, plus normal pregnancy hormones. It all added up to one cranky Max. It had been a long week for both of them. Angel just tried to concentrate on the fact that Max was giving him another chance. And while he made no verbal promise to her, for fear that he’d break it, he swore to himself that this time would be different.
Connor had done as she’d asked and packed up her stuff. He brought it to the Hyperion via the use of a friend’s car the morning after Max and Angel had reconciled. She’d moved in, taking over Angel’s guestroom. They’d had many talks, trying to lay out some ground rules about their relationship that they could both live with. She'd conceded to the fact that she couldn’t work and it was too big a risk for her to be helping him. He’d conceded to not pushing their relationship too quickly. They both came to the conclusion that a deeper intimacy level was not a good idea, for many reasons. And there was the simple matter of just having to adjust to each other’s constant presence in each other’s space. But Angel was determined to make it work, just like Max was, he suspected.
"Giles said that they finally cracked this prophecy," he finally answered. Max groaned and he risked another glance at her as he pulled into the hotel parking lot. She wasn’t in pain that he could see.
"You know," she sighed, "I’m really getting tired of everyone knowing my business."
"I know, sweetie," he smiled. It was a familiar rant to him by now, one that he shared. "But they mean well."
"Oh by all means," Max growled. "Let’s tell them every little detail about our lives, just because they mean well."
"Uh, let’s not," Angel smirked. He let the car roll to a stop in the visitor’s section of the lot and killed the engine. "Once this prophecy stuff is taken care of, I fully intend to go back to having some privacy."
"Amen to that," Max giggled, her mood shifting rapidly, as it was wont to do these days. "I don’t think Giles needs the details of our little session on the couch last night." Angel returned her smile, even as his body tightened painfully at the reminder. It was difficult to remember their rules, especially with her so near all the time. He wanted her badly. But on the off chance that the one night was a fluke, they refrained from going that far again. He swung out of the car and moved around to help her out. She stifled a groan as her hand went to her stomach, but managed to stay upright.
Angel knew better than to try and take over with her. At first she blew off all his attempts to help her when she was in pain. But slowly, she’d learned to ask for his help when she needed it. This time, it was just a twinge. So they made their way up to Giles’ room, where the gang was awaiting them. Angel knocked on the door and Willow answered it. She smiled brightly when she saw the pair. By the look on her face, she obviously had good news for them.
"Hey Angel," she grinned. She moved forward to give him a small hug before turning to Max. "Max, how are you?"
"I’m sore, cranky, tired and I need to pee," she answered honestly. Willow’s face fell for a moment, before she pasted the smile back on and moved out of the pregnant woman’s way. Max made a beeline for the bathroom, shutting the rest of them out.
"Willow?" Angel asked gently. "Are you okay?" She waved a dismissive hand.
"I’m sorry," she shrugged. "She just reminded me of Anya, all outspoken like that." Angel nodded slowly. He didn’t know the ex-demon all that well. "I never thought I’d miss her this much." Willow’s girlfriend, Kennedy, moved to her side and whispered in her ear. Willow nodded and followed her girlfriend back to the sofa. Angel followed and acknowledged the rest of the group. Wes and Giles, seated with their heads together, briefly glanced up and nodded at him. It still amused the others to see how alike the two men could be, for all their differences. Cordy was chatting with Fred as Gunn stood, looking out the window at the city below.
"Buffy and Spike couldn’t make it?" Angel asked easily. This last week had done another thing. It had greatly eased his feelings about that pair.
"They’ll be back in town at the end of the week," Cordy answered. Angel nodded. It didn’t really matter if they were here. They had their own happily ever after to deal with. Max finally emerged and took a seat beside Angel.
"So what’s the dealio?" she demanded, looking about the room.
"W-well," Giles answered first. "We seem to finally have some answers. Thanks to Willow’s research." The redhead gave the room a cute wave as everyone looked to her.
"Well then, let’s hear it."
"First of all," Giles naturally took the lead, as he usually did in these matters, "Buffy was correct. It was Angel’s curse. The reason it took so long for us to decipher was because it wasn’t in the form we were familiar with."
"What does that mean?" Angel was confused. Buffy had recognized it easily enough.
"Well you see," Wes broke in, "language evolves. And magical terms and usage are no different. The gypsies that cursed you originally appeared to have taken the curse from a much earlier time in their culture."
"And this is important how?" Cordelia demanded.
"Well, you see," Willow took up the thread now, "words that we say now, would have a much different meaning from a hundred years ago. The most obvious thing I always think of is the word stoned. To us it means someone who’s been using drugs. But in the olden days, it meant someone who’d been outcast and had stones thrown at him or her."
"And there were discrepancies in the curse?" Angel asked, wondering which they had been.
"Some," Willow allowed. "The most glaring one was the happiness clause."
"What do you mean?"
"True happiness," Willow frowned. "In the Romany language one hundred years ago, that was what that phrase meant. But going back to when the curse originated, it meant something different." The room seemed to hold a collective breath. "The nearest meaning we can come up with is happiness of a selfish nature. Which makes a lot more sense when you consider the consequences."
"Yeah, it does," Angel mumbled. He clearly remembered the moment on Buffy’s seventeenth birthday. He’d been reflecting on the precious gift he’d been given by her love and the utter contentment that had filled him. A precursor to the burning pain of the loss of his soul.
"But we don’t have to worry about that anymore," Willow chuckled. Angel’s head snapped up.
"What?"
"It seems Angel," Wes had a huge grin on his face, as did the others, except for Max, "that your soul is now bound."
"It is?" he whispered, stunned. "Are you sure?"
"As sure as we can be?" Giles laughed. "And again, the reason it took so long for us to tell you was because we wanted to be sure."
"No it’s not," Cordy sighed. "We just all had to get together and brainstorm before we realized what was going on."
"Huh?" That from Max.
"Well, we certainly all had our own theories about that night," Wes offered, shifting uneasily in his seat. "But we had to put those theories together, along with Willow’s explanation about magical laws and principles."
"Still on the huh," Max sighed.
"I think she means simple English, English," Gunn grunted, amused at his small joke about Wesley’s heritage.
"Yes quite," Wes nodded, used to Gunn’s way of speaking. "There was indeed more to the curse than we originally thought." He flipped through some notes until he found what he was looking for. "There was the curse, which we thought was entire. But it wasn’t. Willow discovered the entire curse, predating the gypsies that cursed you. And it matched up with what appeared on Max’s skin. The rest read ‘By the blood of the purest innocent, freely offered, Shall his soul be his own, forever bound Neither shattered nor lost, only his shall it be By the blood of the purest innocent, who shall came unbidden’." There was silence, until Willow finally broke it.
"You see, in magic, there has to be balance,’ she explained, her voice rising in her excitement. "In the curse, you could either lose it permanently, or keep it permanently. It all depended on your actions. If you fulfilled the requirements of selfish happiness, you lost your soul. If you were given blood freely, you kept your soul." She glanced at Giles sheepishly. "I’m still researching on precisely why it was those restrictions. You’d think it would be the other way around. They wanted Angel to suffer, yet they made it easy for him to lose the soul."
"Ah, yes," Giles interrupted her musings. "That’s a valid point, but not relevant to the precise moment. Enough to say that it has occurred and move on."
"The blood of the purest innocent," Max said softly. Angel noticed that she was absentmindedly rubbing her stomach. His hand itched to follow hers, but he managed to contain himself.
"That would be you," Cordy grinned as she leaned towards her friend. Max glanced up, slightly puzzled.
"Yes," Wes continued the explanation. "We realized, thanks to Cordy’s revelation that you offered your blood to Angel, that you were fulfilling that part of the curse. And when we brainstormed enough, we finally came to realize that your blood is purely innocent."
"How do you figure that?" Angel asked.
"Well, we concentrated on the words ‘pure’ and ‘innocent’," Fred explained. "The first thing that came to mind was a baby. That was the purest thing we could think of. But at first we were thinking of terms of a more spiritual manner. When that didn’t seemed likely, Willow suggested that maybe it was physical. In this world, as soon as a baby draws breath, it becomes contaminated. It begins the road to its ultimate destination, which is death," she shuddered delicately. It was not a light topic. "So that led us to thinking of a child that was still enwombed. But that was too horrible an act to contemplate." Angel nodded. He didn’t want to think along those lines at all.
"And then we remembered about that night in Mr. Giles hospital room," Kennedy broke in finally. "Max carries the blood of an enwombed child all through her body."
"The stem cells?" Max whispered. The group nodded. Max grew contemplative for a moment. "Is that everything then?"
"It seems to be," Giles nodded. "Angel’s soul is bound. According to the curse, it can’t be lost or broken in any way. So you have nothing to fear there." Max carefully stood up, ever mindful of her stomach. Giles stood as well, so she wouldn’t have to lean over him. She slid her arms around his waist in a rare gesture and squeezed quickly.
"Thank you," she smiled into his chest. He returned the squeeze, the pleasure at the contact visible on his face. They moved back from one another.
"Anything for you Max," he smiled.
"You keep saying that," she mentioned, her brow furrowed. Giles whipped his glasses from his face as the ever-present handkerchief made its presence known.
"Yes, I suppose I do," he agreed mildly, making no effort to enlighten her as to why. She poked him lightly in the shoulder, before turning back to where she’d been seated.
"Angel, can we go home now?" she asked in a small voice. Angel looked up at her, immensely pleased when she said home. It was a good step for them, that she considered his apartment her home now. He realized then that he was trying to focus on something other than the information just imparted to them. His soul was his. The curse gone. One specific activity was now his to enjoy freely. But there were those damn restrictions they’d imposed on themselves.
"Yeah, of course baby," he answered easily, standing as well. She smiled then turned to the room at large.
"Thanks everyone," her voice was still small. "We’d stay and celebrate with you, but I’m a little tired." She waited as Angel expressed his gratitude as well. It did not escape either of their attention that everyone was watching them in a decidedly sappy manner. They left the hotel room as the inner occupants burst into excited chatter, speculating about what the couple was really going to do.
‘Fat lot they know,’ Angel thought to himself. As they waited for the elevator, he allowed his glance to drift down tot he woman t his side. She seemed almost to glow. He couldn’t help but grin at the look on her face. "What are you thinking?"
"I am thinking," she peeked up impishly at him, "that you’d better drive fast. I’m suddenly in the mood to be made love to." She slipped into the now open elevator and turned to face him. She giggled at the stunned look on his face.
"Are you sure?" he finally managed to gasp. She nodded. ‘Okay, maybe they do know something.’ He hurried into the elevator and before his lips descended on hers, whispered, "anything for you, Max."
Bonding
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