Searching
The couple sat quietly for a long time. Neither knew what to say. They’d just been informed that somehow, Max’s past was coming back to haunt her. The man who, if DNA would be believed, if there were no more curveballs, was her father, was coming for her. And on top of that, he was supposed to be dead. Max felt helpless against the onslaught of things she didn’t know. And Angel was right there with her. He could feel the fear emanating from her. This man had never been more than a distant mentor to her. Someone who’d been in the peripheral of her life. Why was he coming now? And more so, how?
Finally Max had enough of the chaotic thoughts spinning her mind out of control. She disengaged herself from Angel and stole from the bed. He watched her go, understanding her need to be alone. But he was mistaken. She wanted nothing more than to push everything that was threatening her life far from not only herself, but also both of them. She made a quick trip to the bathroom and after donning her nightshirt, returned to their bed. She shut off the lamp on the bedside stand and snuggled down into her lover’s arms. He cradled her gently, giving and receiving comfort.
When Max awoke the next morning, Angel was gone. At least from the bed. She heard him moving about the apartment. She glanced at the alarm clock, surprised to see that she’d slept so late. It was evident that her body was dealing with the pregnancy in a time-honored tradition of more sleep. But for her, eleven hours was ridiculous. Perhaps she’d been more susceptible to the emotional wear that last night provided. She’d been worried about dinner with Connor and Alyssa, no matter the calm front she provided for Angel. And then, seeing Buffy again, since their last meeting had been fraught with tension. And lastly Whistler’s news. She was almost tempted to disregard what the demon had said. From the moment she’d seen him, her predatory senses were in overload. And that had lasted until he’d left.
It was a strange thing. She’d never had a problem with demons before, except those that attacked her. She actually remembered growling at the vampire that had attacked her so many months before. And that in itself was not odd. It was a tactic she’d employed before with some success. Some animals, particularly guard dogs, would generally back off from her once she’d physically proven herself the greater threat. Usually a growl and quick release of pheromones did it. So maybe it was natural to her to warn others off. But she’d never done so in a precipitous manner like last night. Maybe this was another weird pregnancy syndrome for her. Other women nested. She growled. It was enough to make her smile for a moment.
Angel heard Max finally wake up. He was surprised that she’d slept so long. But he was determined to pamper her a little bit. He was going to prepare breakfast for her, but was unsure if she’d be up to eating. So he kept some water warm in the kettle, so he could prepare some tea that Giles had thoughtfully sent over It was supposed to be good for settling upset stomachs. When he first heard her, he prepared that and threw a package of crackers on a tray.
It was little, but what she could handle right now. And he was at a loss what else to do for her. Whistler had been unable to provide any details. Just that Sandeman was somehow going to make his way to this dimension. They didn’t know how, why or even when. But it would be accomplished. They didn’t even know what his intentions were. At least for Angel and Max. Angel had a large suspicion that Whistler knew a lot more than he was letting on. But the damn rules in the game that the Powers played prevented him from enlarging on them. Some vague thoughts of finding the balance demon and pounding the information out of him flitted through Angel’s subconscious.
He let the thoughts go as he carried the tray to the bedroom. It was more important right now for him to support Max. In whatever she needed, he would be there for her. They needed to decide now how to proceed. Decide how they were going to react to this threat. It was strange that neither one of them dismissed the threat factor of this news. Why would Whistler have warned them if that were not true? So they gave it the attention it deserved. Angel nudged the door open and carried the tray to the bed. Max was awake, but still lying there, seemingly lost in thought.
"Hey baby," he greeted softly. She looked up at him, then at the tray he carried. He set it next to her and she eyed it dubiously.
"What’s this?"
"Tea and crackers," he shrugged. "Giles sent the tea. Chamomile something or other."
She grimaced. "Breakfast of champions," she scoffed. But it didn’t stop her from taking and nibbling on a saltine.
"If you want me to make you something else, just say so," Angel offered. Max sighed and scooted herself carefully up the bed, trying not to disturb the tea. She held her hand out to Angel. He dutifully sat as close as he could.
"Not right now, but thank you," she shook her head, twining her fingers through his. She continued to eat the proffered crackers, finding that it actually was calming her riotous stomach. She sighed heavily.
"What is it?"
"I don’t know," she shrugged. "You ever get the feeling that you’ve been thrown back in time to another dimension, forced to make a new life where things exist that only ever did before in books? And then top it off with being impregnated and then informed that someone’s after you but you don’t know which way they’re coming from?" He couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled forth.
"No," he finally answered. "I can’t say that I have."
"Well I have," Max declared irritably. "And it’s really throwing me off."
"How?" His hand was now lazily playing with her hair. She reached for the tea, which hadn’t spilled yet. She blew on it before taking a cautious sip. It was actually good. Of course, Giles would never steer her wrong. Max mused on that before panic set in. She sat up, the tea finally splashing across her hand. "Oh damn it!" she exclaimed. Angel took the tea from her, setting it swiftly on the nightstand, then grabbing the edge of the comforter to clean her off. He checked her momentarily, but she didn’t seem to have burned herself.
"It’s okay Max," he soothed. "No burn. Are you okay?" She turned calculating eyes to him.
"Giles," she said simply.
"What about him?" Angel puzzled.
"Is he really Giles?" She took a deep breath. "Or is it possible that he’s…"
"Sandeman?" Angel’s eyes widened. He hadn’t even considered this possibility. "Damn! I hadn’t seen him in so long. I wouldn’t know how to tell." He pondered the idea a few minutes.
"We need to find someone who can figure this out," Max decided. Suddenly it seemed imperative to do so. If she was right, the enemy could have been maneuvering her for longer than she wished to remember. "Who’s close to him? Who would know?"
"Buffy," he answered monotonously. He grimaced then. "But I don’t think we should call her. Past experience tells me that she’d be liable to fly off the handle when it comes to something happening to Giles."
"Okay, who else then?"
"Willow," Angel snapped his fingers. "She’s known Giles as long as Buffy, plus she could probably figure out a magic spell to figure this out. Should I call her?"
"Yes please."
*****
"And that’s the whole of it," Angel finished up. Willow had agreed to come over, alone. She was so used to the cloak and dagger routine when dealing with Angel’s world. That was not to say that she was unprepared. He’d warned her to say nothing to the others and she realized that this conversation would have something to do with one of her friends. She’d warned Angel that she couldn’t promise that she would go behind their backs. He understood, but told her that when they explained, she’d see the need. Now, she sat on his sofa, gaping at both of them. "Willow?" He paused as she snapped her mouth shut. "What do you think?"
"Do I think Giles isn’t really Giles and is actually Sandeman?" she pondered the question. "Honestly, given everything that’s happened over the past eight years, I’m not ready to discount anything."
"I feel the same way," Angel grimaced.
"Oh," Willow exclaimed nervously. "But when would it have happened? And- and I mean Giles knows stuff about us. And we know stuff about him. All we have to do is make sure that the information is accurate. That would prove it, wouldn’t it?"
"In most cases I would say yeah," Max interjected softly. "But Sandeman created Manticore. They have techniques designed to pull memories from people. Any information Giles carries in his mind, they’d figure out a way to access."
"Well," Willow continued to ruminate, "what if we were to slip him a truth serum." Even after all this time, she was still hesitant to use her magic overmuch. It would forever be a temptation for her. "We could simply ask him if he’s this Sandeman." Max was already shaking her head.
"Truth serums are a misnomer," she stated. "All they do is relax a person’s inhibitions to the point where they don’t care what they’re saying."
"So people with intensive training can counteract the effects," Angel surmised.
"That or ingest drugs," Max shrugged. She rubbed a hand over her forehead. "I really don’t know how we’re going to handle this. I mean, if he’s really not Giles, then what is he waiting for? Why is he still reeling me in? What does he want?"
"I don’t know baby," Angel sympathetically dropped a kiss on her head. "We’ll figure it out."
"Yes Max," Willow added. "We’ll keep working on a plan. We’ll figure something out."
"Thanks Willow," she smiled tiredly at the redhead. "I’m going to go… I don’t know. I just need to do something."
"Don’t go far," Angel warned. He was already in protection mode. Something was threatening his mate and he would do everything in his power to prevent that. "Maybe Cordy can find something."
"Maybe. I’ll see you later Willow."
"Bye."
The witch waited until she was sure that Max was gone. "Angel, I do have one idea."
"What is it?"
"Do you remember when Buffy could hear our thoughts?" He nodded. It hadn’t worked on him, but the others all had troubles concealing their thoughts from her.
"I don’t know about this Willow," he was hesitant for many reasons. "First of all, I have no idea where those types of demons are. Secondly, it nearly drove Buffy crazy. And then-!"
"That’s not what I’m suggesting," she interrupted quickly. "When she first told us about it, Wesley made a very good point. He said that it was likely that whatever we were trying to keep from Buffy that would be at the forefront of our minds. I’m thinking that maybe there could be a spell that would let me hear Giles’ thoughts."
"Go directly to the source, huh?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "If it’s truly Giles, he’ll have Giles thoughts. If it’s Sandeman, he won’t."
"That’s a good plan," he complimented her. She glowed under the obvious praise, but then recalled the badness that her magic could be. "But I think I should be the one to hear his thoughts."
"Why?" a very indignant protest.
Angel chuckled. "Well, Willow, he’s a man. Do you really think you could handle those thoughts?"
"Uh, hello Angel," Willow rolled her eyes. "Grown up here. Plus, still gay. I don’t think it would bother me."
"Well, there’s also the thing where it is quite an invasion of privacy. Are you ready to handle finding out secrets about Giles that you can never let him know you know?"
"Oh, hadn’t thought about that. You know me and secrets."
"Still can’t keep them?"
"Well, I’m better than I was. But this would be a forever kind of thing. Don’t think I could go that long."
"Okay then, that’s decided."
Willow rose from her perch. She grabbed her bag and walked to the door, Angel following behind. "I’ll get started researching a spell. I’ll let you know as soon as I find anything, okay?"
"Okay, thanks Willow." He opened the door for her.
"You know, I really hope Giles is, well… Giles."
"So do I Willow. So do I."
Invasion Of Privacy
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