Fiction DA43- For Love Of Max

Chapter Forty-three

For Love of Max

The employees of Wolfram and Hart were startled to say the least when Max appeared among them. Many were able to discern that they needed to get the hell out of her way immediately. Unfortunately, Sarah, Angel’s assigned secretary for the rare occasions he made an appearance at the office, was the one elected to approach her. Everyone held her in a strange awe. Max, of course, not Sarah. This woman appeared out of nowhere in their white chamber. She overpowered a master Vampire and slayer together. She’d jumped five floors and had survived. She’d then disappeared, and even with their vast resources, they could not find her. She was a stronger fighter than any they’d ever encountered before. She’d carried and delivered a Vampire’s child, an unheard of feat. She was the daughter of a certain Watcher, which their files stated was not a possibility. A rumor that a demon was hunting her had started, but they kept their ears to the ground and were only able to discern the fact that most demons seemed to be scared of her and her Vampire lover as a team. She was a force to be reckoned with.

And they still knew that their file on her was incomplete. There was even rumblings about creating a new section devoted to discovering exactly who and what she was. If only they could sneak it past their employer. There’d be many researchers thrilled to step into that job. In short, they were itching to get their hands on her. But she never was an easy enough target. So the more crafty employees that had not yet been ferreted out were constantly waiting for their chance. And even they could see that they dared not mess with her as yet. A few wondered where Angel might be, as the pair was never apart in recent history.

So Sarah approached, her heart in her throat, sweat leaking from near every pore in her body. "Um, Miss Gueverra?" she had to half-trot to keep up with Max’s brisk pace. Max ignored her at first. "Miss Gueverra," Sarah persisted, "there’s something I wanted to talk to you about."

"It’s okay," Max grunted. "I already know."

"You do?" the surprise in the secretary’s voice was evident. Max nodded. It had finally come together when Spike had made mention of Angel’s soul. And seeing him before her, how he’d once been a Vampire and she’d been dead. They had both reappeared in the white chamber of Wolfram and Hart. She’d searched the baby’s room with a practiced soldier’s eye. There had been no wood furniture broken. And it didn’t make sense that Angel would search out a stake, only to return to the nursery to dust himself. He would have done it the moment he’d had weapon in hand if that had been his intent. It only made sense that somehow; he’d come here. To the white chamber.

*****

Spike and Buffy had raced after Max once their surprise had worn off. They’d seen her, speeding into downtown LA on her motorcycle. Somehow though, Buffy wasn’t surprised that she’d stopped before the law office of Wolfram and Hart.

"That bitch," she’d fumed as Spike pulled in behind the woman’s bike. "I bet this was the plan all along. Wes told me that these lawyers have been trying to kill Angel for years. What do you want to bet that they brought her here for just that purpose?"

Spike said nothing, knowing it was useless to try and reason with her when she was like this. He was a little hesitant himself about the facts. It was possible that the lawyers were behind this. But if they were, then Max was an unwitting pawn, he believed. Her grief had been too real for her to do this deliberately. But he knew Buffy wouldn’t want to see it that way. She was grieving an old love and needed someone to blame. Who better than the woman that had replaced her in Angel’s affection? Once again, he had to tamp down the fears and frustrations that came with their relationship. Time enough to fall apart once they had their answers.

So they entered the offices, trailing after Max. He had an inkling of where she’d gone, thinking much along the same lines Max had. Some things just hadn’t added up. So he followed his instinct, uncharacteristically letting Buffy ramble without responding to her.

The murmuring he caught as they moved past the dumbfounded employees supported his instinct. Without word to anyone, he led his lover to the elevators and pressed the button for the fifth floor. She followed, still mumbling under her breath, pausing every few minutes to wipe tears from her face. Spike simply stared straight-ahead, face not betraying emotions. When the elevator doors slid open, the same sight as below greeted them. Max had cut a wide swathe through the crowd. As one, they seemed to glance toward the newcomers in relief. They had no idea what was going on and hoped that Spike and Buffy would provide answers. Spike ignored them, centering his focus on Max. She was standing at the chamber door, her hands pressed against the cool material, shaking visibly.

Max had finally shaken Sarah off and was before the chamber door that she vaguely remembered. Escape had been more important then. Who knew that she’d ever willingly come back to this place? But here she was now. She was trembling, felt sick to her stomach with the anticipation running through her. But she knew she couldn’t wait. She pushed the handles down and the door clicked open.

Spike watched Max slip inside and smiled, just a little. Now he knew how the others must have felt when he’d miraculously reappeared in the chamber. Nothing had been left of him, but memory and soul. But through his sacrifice, he’d been remade, reborn. And now it was Angel’s turn. He pulled Buffy forward, hating to intrude, but needing to see the reunion. If only to reinforce his belief that good things could happen to people like him, like Angel. But when he reached the monitor, he could only gape.

Max stepped into the room, letting the chamber door carry itself shut from its weight. She shivered, remembering the fear she’d felt when she’d first awoken. She could only hope that Angel hadn’t felt the same way. Confusion maybe, that they could deal with. Her eyes swept over the room, trying to pinpoint exactly where she’d awakened. It was all eerily the same, the cavernous ceiling, and the evenly spaced columns. "Angel?" she called hesitantly. The sound echoed around her. There was no answer. She didn’t panic yet. It was possible that he wasn’t awake yet. So she moved forward. She searched every inch of the room, kept expecting to find him huddling behind the next pillar, or the next. But he wasn’t there. When she reached the other side of the room, only to encounter solid wall, did she stop her search. He simply wasn’t there.

Spike and Buffy stared at the screens that were linked to the twenty-four hour feed from the chamber. Many showed only the brilliant white reflecting back the emptiness, but a few showed Max, searching. Moving from camera angle to camera angle. When she finally reached the end, they watched, their hearts breaking as she slumped against the wall, sliding as if in slow motion to the floor. They could hear the tinny reproduction of her mourning call over the electronic wiring. It spoke to them and for them. They watched helplessly as Max crumpled in on herself, wailing for the love she had lost.

Two hours passed after Max had cried herself dry. Spike finally gathered the courage to face the reality. Angel wasn’t coming back. He’d related in quiet tones what had happened to Giles over the phone. The Watcher in turn told the others. They all waited, but no miracle was forthcoming. It seemed that they had used up their quota. Spike had allowed that it was okay for them to return to the hotel, as in Max was in no shape to care for her daughter at the moment. Cordelia had mentioned that Max had made preparations for this and believed that she had left what thy needed at the apartment. So they had returned there to feed and care for the baby. They didn’t want to, but they understood. This sacrifice Angel made was for his daughter. They needed to keep their focus on her and grieve later.

Spike hung up from his last phone call and turned to Buffy. She was sitting numbly, Sarah’s comforting arm around her. "Luv," he spoke, his throat thick with unshed emotion. "We need to get her out of here." Buffy, seeing Max clearly for the first time in her desperation, had finally admitted the truth. This woman loved Angel, there was no use denying it. She wouldn’t degrade his memory by belittling the things he held dear. So she nodded her agreement and together, they entered the chamber.

They crouched before Max, but she stared through them, her eyes unfocused and uncaring. Spike reached out to gently shake her shoulder. She didn’t respond. With a hearty sigh, he reached for her hands. She didn’t resist as he pulled her to her feet, but didn’t help either. Once he’d made sure that her knees locked underneath her and she wouldn’t fall back down, did he let go. She wavered slightly, but continued to stand. Spike took one arm, Buffy the other and they tried to pull her forward, out of the chamber. She did resist then. She came to enough to realize that they were trying to take her away from Angel.

"No," she moaned, shaking her head. They stopped pulling.

"Max," Spike whispered. "I know, pet. But he’s not coming back." She cringed at his words.

"It hurts," Buffy admitted. "I know how you feel, I do, but it’s true. And you need to come with us now. You need to get Eva." She tried to play on her motherly instincts, but it wasn’t working. Deep inside, Max knew that her father was caring for her child. She would be okay, never knowing this awful crushing grief threatening to push her into an abyss of monumental proportion. She shook her head again.

"Max," Spike tried again. "Angel died for Eva, because he loved her so much. Don’t turn away from her now." Max stared up at him, cocking her head at an angle, as if trying to understand an alien language. Spike shuddered a little at his own harsh seeming tone. He didn’t want to push the truth in her face like this, but knew it was better in the long run. It would hurt like hell, but she needed to accept the truth before she could heal. He saw her eyes glaze over and swore softly. They were already losing her.

Max turned away from them; her mind focused on the words that she’d heard. Spike knew how much Angel loved them. The words echoed in her mind. Her mind expanded, similar to a few times before. She reached out with the sense that others did not seem to possess. Her simple knowing. Other words overlaid Spike’s ringing words. She honed in on them, gasping at the intensity of the feeling carried with them.

‘He has loved them well and by doing so has fulfilled his destiny. It has been a long and painful road. I suggest you rest now warrior of light. The time will be soon when your new destiny awaits. Be at peace for now. Know that you have earned this second chance.’

Her eyes filled with tears, overwhelming joy this time. "Angel!" she cried again. Spike and Buffy sighed, worried that she was slipping into an unhealthy state of denial already. But before they could move to forcibly take her from the chamber, a blinding light caught them unaware. Max’s eyes lit up as she heard the breathy sigh of the preternatural voice, ‘Shanshu.’

And before them lay Angel, naked as the day he’d born, and now reborn. He moaned slightly, jolting them out of their stillness. Max shrieked as she threw herself at him. Spike and Buffy gasped, but Spike was quick to restrain her. This was Angel and Max’s moment. Their greeting and declarations could come later.

"Angel, oh God, Angel," Max cried into his chest. His arms came up automatically around her.

"Max, baby?" he croaked. "Wha’sa matter?"

"Oh God," she cried, "you left me. Don’t ever leave me."

"Never baby," he affirmed. They held each other, as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. "Max?" he finally grunted. She lifted her head, then scrambled to her knees, one hand still on his chest. "I need to breathe," he whispered. The joy that shone out of them both was radiating and multiplying.

"Yeah," she agreed breathlessly, "you do!"

"I need to breath!" he shouted, giddiness consuming him. Max’s laughter gurgled out as his hand covered hers, both of them feeling the strong sure heartbeat, pulsing through his skin. Suddenly, something fell on his lower body and he glanced up, shock still written on his face.

"Just thought I’d return the favor mate," Spike grinned idiotically, gesturing to the sweat pants that he’d quickly retrieved. He turned his back, engulfing Buffy in a strong embrace, sharing his pleasure with hers. Max helped Angel stumble to his feet as he shakily pulled on the clothing. He stared down at her, mesmerized by everything he saw in her. "So mate," Spike continued, unable to contain the joy and relief coursing through the room, "you’re alive now. What are you going to do then?"

Angel continued to stare down at his chosen mate, the woman who’d borne his child. The woman he knew he loved beyond all time and reason. His hand reached for her and she moved forward. His head dipped down, searching for the connection that would feed his soul. He found it the moment before their lips met the spark that echoed back and forth between them. His lips met hers as his hands wrapped themselves around her body, pulling her in so hard he thought he might absorb her.

Max held on just as tightly, her arms around his neck. She melted into him, reveling in his love. And in her love. After a few minutes, he pulled back and brushed the hair back from her face. His finger traced the track where her tears had dried, then leaned forward to press a simple kiss to her forehead. "I’m gonna marry you," was his answer.

The Sandeman Returneth