Author: Restive Nature
Disclaimer: Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is the product of Cameron/Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.
Rating: PG-13- NC-17
Genre: Crossover
Type: Romance
Pairing: Max Gueverra/ Sam Winchester
Summary: What if... Max had been having a different dream?
Spoilers/ Timeline: This starts when Max is thirteen and going into heat for the very first time.
Feedback: Always welcome!
Distribution: Ask first please.
A/N: This story, while being in the same universe as When It Changes, does not actually occur within that storyline. This fiction is just an off-shoot of what might have happened.
Chapter Eighteen
A Viper In The Mist
"Jess?" Max asked as soon as the other woman picked up.
"Hey Max," Jess greeted cheerfully. "What's up?"
"It's horrible!" Max launched immediately into a rant. "It's terrible. Everything's a mess and I don't know what to do!"
"Do about what?" Jess wondered. "And where's Sam?"
"He left!" Max snorted derisively. "He said we didn't have enough cheese and he left."
"Okay," Jess took a deep breath, rather surprised. Max just didn't seem like the kind of girl given to panic attacks, especially as Hess had gotten to know her, and not just what Sam had related about her. "Why don't you tell me specifically, what the problem is," she suggested.
"I... I don't know what to wear," Max admitted in a tiny voice. Jess smiled, relieved. No, it wasn't a disaster, but she knew perfectly Max's dilemma.
"I'll be right over," she announced and heard Max's sigh of relief as they hung up. She took a few minutes to grab the housewarming gift that she'd gotten for the couple and was on her way.
Jess knocked on their door and entered when Max called her in. She followed the sounds of Max's voice to the bedroom. But instead of a mass of clothes everywhere, like she had expected, there were only two drawers open with one shirt laid out. Max stood at the closet, randomly pulling out clothes to peruse. "Hey," Jess greeted. "Let me put this down somewhere," she gestured with the gift she was carrying, "and then I'll be back to help."
"Oh Jess," Max smiled as she caught sight of what Jess was referring to. "You didn't have to."
"I know," Jess grinned impishly. "I did it 'cause I wanted to. It's traditional for a housewarming."
"Well thank you then," Max tilted her head to the side. "I suppose I better wait for Sam to get back then, before I open it."
"Ha!" Jess' voice floated back to her from the kitchen. "I say let the coward hang. There's plenty of cheese."
"That's what I said," Max groaned. Jess returned and stood by Max at the closet.
"So what have you decided on, if anything?" she asked, fingering the bright red blouse that Max had pulled out.
"I haven't decided anything," Max snorted. "I mean, its friends. Do I go casual? But my 'casual' is sloppy. I'm hosting the party, so do I go classy and elegant and make everyone think I'm a snob? It's just... argh!"
Jess hid a smiled. She knew what Max's problem was, having experienced it herself a time or two before. She asked carefully, "what's Sam going to wear?"
"Jeans and a button down shirt," Max snorted derisively. Men had it so easy. "I miss the good old days," she sighed.
"How so?" Jess grinned.
"The days when all I needed were a hot shower, clean undies and I was good to go. Now though... uh!"
"Well," Jess murmured thoughtfully, "since you're hosting a party for your friends, why don't you split the difference and go classy casual?"
Max chewed on her lip for a moment, mulling over the possibilities and then finally reached back into the closet. She withdrew a pair of dark brown slacks and handed the hanger to Jess. She moved over to the dresser and nudged one drawer shut with her knee, while reaching into the other and withdrawing a cream colored, knit sweater. Holding that, she shoved the other shirt that had been hanging out back into the drawer and closed it. Holding onto the sweater, she opened a top drawer on the left. She pulled out slinky number and pushed the drawer shut with her hip and motioned Jess over to the bed. Jess obligingly pulled the slacks from the hanger and laid them out on the bed while Max fiddled with the sweater. They heard the front door open and Sam calling out that he was finally back.
He stuck his head into the bedroom and the girls could see a very full grocery bag in his arms. "Hey Jess," he greeted with a relieved smile.
"Hey," Jess grinned back. "You must really like your cheese," she chuckled. Sam ducked his head for a moment, totally aware that both women were completely onto him.
"I did get a little more," he defended himself. "And I got some ginger ale for Trish, if she doesn't want wine."
"Who's Trish?" Jess asked.
"Next door neighbor, that way," Max explained, pointing over her head to the outer bedroom wall.
"I'm gonna go put this stuff away," Sam informed them.
"Okay," Max nodded in acknowledgment. "I'll be out in a minutes, sweetie." Sam pulled the door shut and headed to the kitchen.
"Smart move, inviting the neighbors," Jess commented and Max smiled.
"Actually, they're the only ones coming. I invited the Brouwer's on the other side and the Herman's from across the street. They didn't' want to intrude and so the Herman's are having a block party on Sunday so we can meet everybody else."
"Oh, that's nice of them," Jess nodded. "That's perfect Max," she added with a sigh at the ensemble Max had put together. Max nodded as well and bent over to start toweling her hair completely dry.
"So anyways, I was kind of expecting the same answer from the Miles'. But I went over anyway. Dennis was having trouble with his car. So I helped him with it and found out in the five minutes that it took to fix, that Dennis and his wife Trish moved in last year. Trish found out she was pregnant the day after they finished moving on. Trish had Natasha, though they call her Tasha, last November. They're glad not to be the new people anymore. Trish has been pretty housebound since Tasha was born and she's extremely frazzled and worn out. Especially since both sets of grandparents descended on them for the holidays and Trish was just getting over the flu at the time."
"All that?" Jess goggled. "I get the impression that Dennis doesn't get out much," she joked.
"Aside from going to work and errands? I don't think so either," Max agreed. "Anyway, I suggested to Dennis that our party would be great for Trish. They're bringing Tasha with them. She's such a cutie and if it gets to be too much for her, Dennis'll take her home so that Trish can relax and enjoy herself."
"That sounds really good," Jess muttered. "Babies are excellent. Except for one thing. All the guys will avoid her like the plague."
"Not all of them," Max chuckled. "We had coffee over there yesterday, and Tasha went nuts when Sam held her. I think it might be something about being so high up. Dennis is only like, five ten, five eleven?"
"Oh," Jess sighed. "That must have been so cute. Sam with a baby. Ah!"
"I think the towel's inhibiting my sarcasm detector, but it actually was cute," Max laughed. She straightened up and used the towel to rub at the ends of her hair. "Actually, we've run into a couple of the kids on this block. There aren't too many yet, Trish said. But Sam was great with the,. Really patient with all of their questions."
"He'll make a good dad."
"I think he will too. When we're ready, of course."
"Of course," Jess nodded and then straightened up herself. "Well, I'll let you get changed. See if Sam needs my help with anything."
"Okay," Max nodded as Jess slipped out the door. She found Sam in the kitchen, pouring chips into a large plastic bowl.
"Everything figured out," he asked as she stepped over to wash her hands at the sink.
"All under control," Jess assured him.
"Now," Sam chuckled, "I know I'm just a guy and don't understand, but I don't see what the big deal is. Max looks gorgeous in anything she wears."
"You ought to teach a seminar," Jess giggled as she dried her hands.
"What?"
"Teach guys how to make statements like that so their girlfriends, wives, etcetera, don't take offense so much."
"But it's true," Sam shook his head. "And I don't get why she was so upset."
"Well," Jess tried to explain as she refolded the towel to hang back on the rack. "Max is trying to set the right tone with all of your friends tonight."
"What do you mean? She's met everyone and they all love her."
"On a one to one basis, yes," Jess agreed. "But it's different with group situations. Everybody's going to be watching her."
"Why?" Sam grunted.
"To see how well matched she is with you and to figure out how she's going to fit in with the rest of us. Don't worry," she hastened to assure him, "it's nothing bad. Guys just have a different way of figuring out their pecking order."
Sam blinked a few times. "And here I was, thinking we were just having some friends over for a party."
"Try repeating your earlier statement a few more times," Jess teased. Sam shook his head and turned his attention back to setting out food. He was just a guy and didn't understand. He was just a guy...
"You look beautiful," he sighed as Max stepped into the well lit kitchen. She beamed up at him.
"Thank you," she replied calmly, not hint of her earlier upset present. "You look pretty good yourself." She tugged gently at the front of his shirt and he bent his head to meet her for a short kiss. Jess took a moment to admire them. Sam looked like he always did, in his slightly faded jeans and blue chambray shirt. But the smile that had always been on his face when he talked of Max was about ten times the brilliance it had been before she had arrived. He seemed to be lit from within whenever she was around. And Max... Jess just couldn't find a flaw in her physical beauty. She was sure that Max's overall package might not run to every single males taste, but no one could deny that she was gorgeous. And she had a personality that matched the outside. Witty, sassy, helpful and loyal. Jess just couldn't help the friendly type of jealousy that rose within her.
"So what else needs to be done?" she asked, calling the couple's attention back to her.
There wasn't much left to be done and pretty soon, their guests began arriving. Some, like Jessica, had brought gifts. Others, more bottles of wine to celebrate. Everyone commented on how nicely the house had 'come together' with a 'woman's touch'. Max was quick to point out that Sam had a great eye for furniture and good deals, which earned him more ribbing from his closer male friends. But it was all in good fun. It all evened out when Max announced that it was a good thing Sam was that way, because it enabled her to save enough of her birthday money, that she was able to enroll in two classes for the coming spring semester.
Talk turned to upcoming courses and twenty minutes later, perhaps, give or take some time, the doorbell rang again. Sam answered and enthusiastically invited in the Miles family. He took their coats and led them back to the master bedroom so that Dennis could set up the portable bassinet that they had brought with them. Baby Tasha, who seemed apprehensive at the noise and multitude of people, gurgled happily when Sam held out his arms to take her. He led the couple back to the living room and announced to everyone, "hey guys! These are some of our neighbors, Trish and Dennis. And this little sweetie is Tasha, who looks like she's all ready for bed. But that can't be so. The party is just starting, right?" There were a chorus of agreements and greetings to the couple.
Max nudged Jess and they watched the baby kicking and cooing at Sam as she happily enjoyed looking around from her vantage point at his shoulder. He held her securely against him as he bent his head to speak to Trish who was shorter than Max was. She replied to whatever he'd asked and Sam nodded and chuckled. "Here we go Tash. Let's go get your mom some ginger ale." He moved through the slight crows as the baby tried to grab at his slightly shaggy hair.
"Oh man," Jess sighed. "You're right. That is absolutely adorable." The pair continued to watch Sam as he ignored teasing about the new mystery girl in his life. Max excused herself from Jess and went to greet Trish, who had sunk down into the corner of the new sofa.
"Hey," she seated herself just as Alli approached from the hallway. "I'm so glad you guys came."
"I'm glad too," Trish sighed happily as she dropped a diaper bag next to her feet. "It's tough to go out. Tasha's refusing still to take a bottle."
"Have you tried having someone else give it to her?" Max asked earnestly.
"Dennis' mother tried, but Tasha was worn out and cranky," Trish sighed.
"Maybe Dennis could try while you're busy in another room," Max replied thoughtfully. In truth, she'd never given thought to the difficulties in raising recalcitrant children. At least as it didn't apply to her. Trish nodded and then Max gestured to Alli. "Trish, this is a friend of ours, Allison Michaels," Max began to introduce them.
"Yes," Alli grinned, interrupting before Max could complete the polite amenity. "We've actually met before," she prompted. Trish stared at her for a moment and then laughed as recognition dawned.
"From the diner! Right."
"Trish used to come in every Thursday for Joe's clam chowder," Alli explained to Max.
"I couldn't get enough of the stuff when I was pregnant," Trish laughed.
"You know, I'd always wondered if you had had a boy or a girl," Alli chuckled. "No I know. How old is she?"
"She'll be two months next week," Trish informed her. Max stood up as Sam returned with a small bottle of chilled beverage. She gestured for Alli to sit in her place.
"I can't believe she holds her head up so well,": Alli commented as she sat.
"She has for a while now," Trish commented as she accepted the ginger ale. "She's now trying to work on rolling over." Max grinned as the two women continued to talk baby. Sam returned Tasha to her mother, who in turn passed her to a delighted Alli. Sam and Max moved out of the way as a few more ladies carried dining room chairs over to join in the conversation.
"Go get the camera," Max whispered to Sam, who nodded. It was a fun sight, all these women gathered around Tasha, who was oblivious to them as she played with a toy dangling from her mother's fingers. Sam tugged on her hand and Max let him lead her into the kitchen. They passed Chuck and Dennis, who were talking animatedly about football. Max felt relieved that their neighbors were fitting in easily.
"We're running low on chips," Sam informed her, his obvious excuse for bringing her with him. But as she started to reach into the cupboard to grab more, she found herself trapped by his familiar, lean body. She giggled and turned in his arms. Their lingering kiss was broken as Dale pounce on them.
"Haven't you two had enough yet?" he called. "She's been here almost a week now!"
"Never!" Sam replied gruffly, smiling down at her. Max kissed his cheek and turned back to retrieve the chips. Sam grinned and turned to retrieve the digital camera from the other counter. He held it up. "What d'ya say Dale?"
"Screw you!"
But the other man grinned as Sam took his picture. Then they moved together to find more subjects. Max took a moment to fill up several empty platters. Then she took one of said platters, a bowl of chips and one of the fuller bottles of wine and carried it through to the living room. She set everything on the coffee table near the women gathered about Trish and Tasha. "Here you go ladies. Oh, excuse me," she murmured as the doorbell rang again. She glanced back at the rest of the crowd and frowned. Everyone that they were expecting were already here. But then Max brightened. Perhaps some of the other neighbors had decided to drop in after all. But she was surprised when she opened the front door to find a slim and elegantly done up brunette. "Hello?" she greeted.
"Bonjour," the visitor's voice was low and cultured and Max had instant suspicions about who this woman was. "You must be Max," the woman continued. Max nodded and stepped back to let the other woman in.
"And you must be Monique. Come in please."
The woman's face registered her surprise as she stepped into the house. She was holding a gaily wrapped box with a card on top. "I see you've heard about me?" she asked archly.
"A little bit," Max smiled as she took Monique's coat. "But I try not to judge people before I've met them."
"That's very kind of you," Monique seemed quite relieved.
"Well what can I say," Max chuckled as she led Monique to the bedroom to put the coat with the others on the bed. "I really can't blame you for liking Sam. He's one in a million."
"Mm, I can see that you are very secure about your position in Sam's life," Monique smiled. "And here i thought I would have to work hard to convince you that I meant no harm." Max simply smiled. "I came here tonight to, well, to tell you that and to give you this." She offered the gift to Max, but before Max could take it, the cars on top, not secure, slipped to the floor. Max bent over and scooped it up. Her eyes flickered over the simple statement of welcome and back up to Monique's face. The woman's eyes were sparkling. Her smile didn't seem as brittle and Max had the strangest sensation that the woman had gotten some sort of perverse enjoyment out of what had just occurred. "My grandmama always said that every lady should have at least one piece of this in their home." She offered the box again and Max took it. The wrapping paper came off easily. Max was surprised to find a crystal bowl with a pinwheel design to it. She'd seen these before and knew that they could be expensive.
"This is lovely. Thank you Monique."
The woman shook her head delicately. "I'm so very glad you like it. I saw a rose pattern that was lovely, but not every woman likes roses."
"True," Max smiled politely. "I actually prefer snapdragons. But this is the company's classic design, isn't it?" Monique nodded. "So, would you care for a glass of wine?"
*****
"Uh oh," Chuck murmured in a heavy voice from beside Sam. "Possible cat fight at ten o'clock." Sam glanced in the direction that Chuck was looking and swore softly under his breath. Max was leading Monique Fournier through the hallway. "Does she know who that is?"
"Doubt it," Sam replied tersely to his friends worried question. "This is the first I've seen of her since last semester. Excuse me." He made it into the kitchen just in time to see the women disappear into the bedroom.
"Let Max handle it," Jess warned softly, coming up right behind him, as she had also seen the new arrival. Sam grunted and fiddled with a package on the counter. It was hard to wait, especially as he wasn't sure as to what was going on. But he managed to hold himself back. The pair reappeared after a few minutes and Max smiled broadly as she approached Sam, carrying a bowl.
"Hey Sam," she greeted. "Look what Monique gave me." His eyes flickered down to the glass bowl and then back up.
"It's nice," he offered tersely. "Hello Monique."
"Bonjour Sammy, Jessica."
Max suppressed an urge to laugh as a small vein in Sam's jaw pulsed visibly. It was no wonder he didn't like the woman if she persisted in calling him by the nickname he hated. She placed the bowl on the table with the other gifts that had been given to them that evening and turned to pour Monique some wine. Ignoring the tension pervading the room, she asked Monique if she had her courses in place for the upcoming semester. The other woman proclaimed that she had, but was thinking already of dropping one. She'd had a course with that particular professor before and didn't like his style of teaching. Sam watched in amazement as Max effortlessly managed the subtle hostility of his friends against Monique. She openly addressed Monique's previous infatuation with Sam. Monique simply agreed with her, commented that she hoped she would one day find such a wonderful man and wisely left it at that. Surprisingly, she didn't try and dominate the conversation as she usually did. She simply listened and occasionally offered witty comments. When Max felt that the hostility had eased enough, she made the rounds again, ensuring that everyone had enough drinks and snacks.
It was noticed that baby Tasha was getting cranky and Max offered the sanctity of their bedroom so that Trish could get her settled. Aside from those little hiccups, everything went well. Sam watched his girlfriend constantly, smiling as she spoke to everyone that she could. Every time she passed by him, she'd squeeze his hand or tickle his ribs and always gave him a reassuring smile. When she joined the conversation he was holding with Mark, he wrapped an arm comfortably around her shoulder, enjoying how she leaned into him.
Things eventually began to wind down. Dennis had already taken the baby home and Trish was about ready to go as well. Sam went to retrieve her coat from the bedroom, but noticed that the back door was ajar, letting in a cool breeze. Puzzled, Sam moved to shut the door, but heard a hushed feminine voice speaking through the cool night air. He was amused until he realized that the woman was speaking rapidly in French. Sam couldn't make heads nor tails of Monique's conversation though.
"... oui. C'est comment j'ai confirmé qu'il était elle. Non, elle n'a pas remarqué. Avez-vous décidé que ma couverture sera pour la Phase Deux ?She chuckled. "Elle ne l'aimera pas. Je doute qu'elle soit disposée à me parler après cela. Mm-hm. D'accord. Le mois suivant, alors ?" Her voice softened quite a bit. "Envoyez mon amour à ma tante s'il vous plaît. Je m'inquiète d'elle. Oui. Au revoir."
Sam was extremely surprised to hear her sniffle and as much as he didn't like the woman, like most men, he didn't like to see a woman cry. He stepped outside. "Monique?" he asked softly and he could see her outline in the shadows give a visible start.
"Oh Sam," she exclaimed lowly. "I didn't see you there. I'm sorry, I had to take a call."
"Yes, I heard," Sam acknowledged. "Is everything okay?"
"I didn't know you spoke French!" she sounded surprised and guarded.
"I don't," he half-smiled. "But you seemed upset."
"Ah," she sighed. "It is my aunt, the one I visited over my vacation. We're very close and... she is not doing well."
"I'm sorry," Sam offered and Monique nodded as she stepped out of the shadows created by the back wall.
"She insisted that I come back to school. But that was her friend, calling to let me know that she is not getting better. I may be returning to her side sooner than we expected."
"Well," Sam shrugged, "all you can do is hope for the best and prepare for everything else."
"Exactement," Monique murmured and then seemed to steel herself. "I think I will take my leave. I do not think I would be very good company right now."
"All right," Sam agreed softly, pushing open the back door. "I'll get your coat."
"Thank you," Monique smiled. "And please, pass my thanks to Max. For her graciousness to me. She is a very... classy lady."
"That she is," Sam agreed whole-heartedly as he moved back inside. He met Max and Trish at the bedroom door.
"I'd wondered where you got to," Max teased.
"Monique's leaving," Sam informed her quietly. "I'll tell you about it later." Max visibly sobered as Sam retrieved the other woman's coat. He turned back to her and caught her chin with one finger, turning her face up to brush a reassuring kiss over her lips and with a small wink, left the room. Like the gentleman he'd been raised to be, he carried the coat out to Monique. She swung the material over her shoulders, asking at the same time if the path she was on led to the front of the house. Sam told her that it did and whee the latch on the gate at the side of the house was. Monique thanked him again and took her leave. Sam went back inside, vaguely unsettled by the last few minutes, but put it aside as he offered to carry home the bassinet that Dennis and Trish had brought with the,. When he returned from next door, Monique's car was gone. Reentering his home, he found that everyone had taken seats in the living room. Alli scooted over on the couch to make room so that he could sit next to Max. As before, once he'd put his arm around her, she leaned into him and sighed. Sam felt the tension in his body, that had appeared with Monique's arrival, simply fade away at her touch.
*****
Happy birthday Dean!" Max exclaimed into her phone.
"Thanks Maxie," Dean chuckled. "You called at just the right time. Dad finally gave me your gifts. I was just about to open them."
"Well go ahead," she laughed and then lowered the phone to tell Sam that they were in time. They'd just gotten out of the art history course that they were taking together.
"A Kenworth shirt?" Dean asked, bemused.
"Check out their motto," Max instructed him.
"'The World's Best'," he read and then laughed. "You know it baby!"
"Yeah, we thought you'd like that." There was more rustling of paper.
"More socks, excellent."
"I got the ones with the reinforced heels and toes," she commented. "Maybe you won't wear them out so fast."
"Doubtful," Dean chuckled. "Remember Maxie, I'm a workin' man."
"All right redneck," she teased. "Now open the last one," she demanded, not caring that both Sam and Dean were laughing at her impatience. She heard the paper rustle and Dean's hastily sucked in breath. He seemed... speechless. Max gave Sam a wide grin and a thumbs up.
"Oh my God! Max, this is awesome! Where did you find this?" Dean whispered.
"Little record store in Los Angeles," she informed him.
"This is... oh wow! I can't believe you found this."
"Well, I'm glad you like it," Max chuckled. "But you should thank Sam too. He did help pay for that stuff, you know."
"Yeah," Dean still seemed a little breathless. "Put him on." Max passed her cell phone to Sam, who smiled and added his birthday greetings.
"Yeah," Sam smiled at whatever Dean had said. "They did turn out pretty good." He listened for a moment and then his face darkened. "No! I'm not hiding anything from you. She's-!" Sam rolled his eyes. "No, I'm not saying that because she's standing right here. Max knows-!" Sam huffed, exasperated. "Dean? Did you look at all of the pictures I took?" He waited. "Yeah, I suppose. I don't really think of her that way." Max could see him counting to ten silently, striving for patience. "I'm not just saying that!" Sam looked even more cross and Max grabbed his free hand to lace her fingers with his. He smiled down momentarily at her, but then frowned again. "Dean, it was her idea to... oh! You are such a jerk!" He laughed finally and relaxed. "Oh for... why does everyone keep asking that. Uh uh, it's none of your business." He squeezed Max's hand reflexively. "You know what? If you really want to know, then ask Max." Sam thrust the phone back at her, shaking his head.
"Ask me what?" Max asked cheerfully after taking the phone back.
"You know what, never mind," Dean chuckled. "Sam's right, none of my business."
"Okay," Max drawled. "So how many things did you manage to tease him about in that last conversation?"
"Oh several," Dean mused. "Mostly those pictures he sent."
Max figured she knew what their brother had been teasing about, since she'd made sure that Sam had sent along the picture of him playing airplane with the baby. "So how's your day been?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Pretty good," Dean enthused. "Dad and I went to a shooting range, got some Chinese take-out, watched re-runs. The usual. How's your day been?"
"It got better," Max demurred. "I had to work this morning while Sam was in class. Made it just in time for art."
"You were working?" Dean asked, surprised. "What'd you land?"
"The convenience store," Max informed him. "Not the greatest, but it's a paycheck."
"So what other course did you get. I forgot."
"Do you mean the women's lit. or the jewelry making course?" Max tried to clarify.
"Stanford offers jewelry courses?" Dean asked doubtfully.
"No," Max chuckled. "That's through the community center. Jess, Alli, Diane and Trish and I all signed up for it. Which reminds me, I need to go to the mall tomorrow and pick up my supplies."
"Well, it sounds interesting at least," Dean approved. "Oh, I was gonna ask," Max waited expectantly, as perhaps this was the question from earlier. "Who was the smokin' brunette at your party?" Max frowned. Which brunette was he talking about? When she didn't answer immediately, he prompted, "the one in the little black skirt?"
"Oh!" Max gasped. "You mean Monique."
"Wait? Monique? As in the bitch that was causin' Sammy so much trouble?"
"The same," Max confirmed.
"You invited her to your party?"
"No."
"She crashed it?" Dean's voice rose in disbelief. "Man, she's got a lot of nerve. Why'd you let her stay?"
"Well, you know what they say Dean," Max chuckled maliciously even as Sam snorted inelegantly and shook his head, easily able to follow the conversation just from her side alone. "Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer."
"A-ah," Dean chuckled. "Maxie's got a plan."
"Well, unfortunately, the state of California tends to frown on murder and since she's just not worth going to jail over, I seized the opportunity to improvise and redeploy."
"Uh huh."
Max giggled as Sam shook his head again at the pair of them. Max and Dean continued to talk about the recent events in their lives, with occasional remarks thrown in on both ends from Sam and John, until it was finally time to say goodnight.
*****
Sam was happy to get home, until he remembered at the door, that Max was probably still shopping with Jess. His afternoon class had been canceled and his first thought was of going home to her and their spending some quality time together. That time had decreased a little since she had started working. He knew that she and Jess had planned to meet for lunch and then head to the mall to pick up some raw materials for the course they were taking together. Sighing, Sam headed into the study to stow his backpack and maybe do a little work. Who knew how long the two of them would be shopping.
But when he heard the front door slam shut, he glanced at his watch and realized that he'd only been home for twenty minutes or so. He stood up from the desk and exited the study, just as the bathroom door latched shut. His eyes nearly crossed as he caught a whiff of a stench lingering in the hall. Holding his breath, he moved to knock on the bathroom door and called out Max's name.
"Sam?" she called back. "I thought you were in class."
"It got canceled," he called back. "Can I come in?"
"You might not want to." He could hear the shower start up.
"Is it bad?"
"Disgusting!"
"I'll take my chances," he chuckled. But the moment he opened the door, he wished that he'd heeded her warning. He could feel his stomach churning as the need to vomit whispered through his stomach. "Oh God," he groaned, breathing as shallowly as he could. "What kind of super-powered skunk did you run into?"
"Just a bitch of a one, named Monique," Max growled from inside the tub. Sam's eyes widened and he frowned.
"Anything I can do?"
"Yeah," Max snorted. "Take my clothes out back and burn them!" Sam smiled and began to gather them up.
"I'll try washing them first," he told her as he exited the bathroom. He hurried through the house, with the clothing held before him. He threw them into the washer and added a generous dosing of detergent. He wondered if that would do the trick. He waited for the washer to fill with water and then shut it off. It wouldn't hurt to let them soak for a while. And if that didn't work, he'd read somewhere that tomato juice worked on removing skunk pheromones from dogs. He didn't think tomato juice would work on Max's clothes, they'd probably stain. But maybe they could think up a suitable alternate. As he returned to the hall, he decided to throw open some windows. He opened both doors and lifted the windows on the screen doors, hoping that a breeze would push through the house and clear the scent out. He didn't think air freshener would help, if anything, it might make it worse. Finally Max emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in her robe with a towel around her hair.
"Careful," she warned. "I can still smell that gunk. Although that might be because it went up my nose." Sam grimaced in sympathy. That really couldn't be anywhere near pleasant. Max bent over to remove the towel from her hair. She dried it just a little more, to make sure she wasn't dripping everywhere and then held a strand up to her nose. She stuck her tongue out and then bit her lower lip. "I can't really tell," she whimpered. Sam gingerly sniffed at the proffered strand and then relaxed.
"I can still smell it a little. But I'm not sure if it's you or if its lingering in the house."
"Mm, I opened the window in the bathroom," Max told him. "But I think I'll have to scour the floor and the tub and maybe the walls."
"Tomato juice," Sam grinned. "It's supposed to work wonders on skunk spray."
"Yeah, the acidic property of it," Max agreed. "Although white vinegar would probably be better. No chance of staining."
Sam snapped his fingers. "I should probably put some in the rinse cycle."
"That'd probably be a good idea," Max sighed.
"So you said Monique did this? What happened?" Sam asked as he followed her to the couch. Max sighed again.
"Jess and I went to pick up our supples at the mall, like we planned. We went in through the department store, because I wanted to show her the fountain that we liked. And you know how you go by the perfume counter to get to the mall entrance?" Sam nodded. "Well Monique was there, working. She asked if we wanted to try and new perfume and before I could say no, she sprayed me full in the face. Jess caught a little too, but not so bad."
"That was a really low thing to do," Sam fumed. "And here I thought she was done pulling stunts like this."
"Mm," Max agreed, rubbing at a spot between her eyes.
"You okay babe?" Sam asked with concern as he rubbed her shoulder gently.
"Headache," she murmured tersely.
"Do you want some aspirin?"
"I already took some," Max told him. Sam frowned. It must be serious if Max had already resorted to pain relief. Usually she preferred to tough it out.
"Why don't you go lay down, see if you can catch a nap?" he suggested softly. Max nodded and stood. She dropped an absent kiss on his lips and headed for the bedroom. Sam sighed as he watched her go. So much for spending a relaxing afternoon with his girlfriend.
*****
It was nearly seven thirty that evening before Max woke up again. Sam had busied himself with chores around the house. He'd added vinegar to Max's clothes and was happy to find that it worked. He'd cleaned the bathroom and it had helped minorly. He tried some air freshener, as the hoped for breeze had never materialized. He spent the rest of his time on his schoolwork and reading. When he heard Max moving around, Sam headed for the kitchen, his stomach rumbling. She made her way slowly to the kitchen after him.
"Hey sweetie," he greeted softly. He wouldn't talk any louder until he knew for sure that her headache was gone. She still looked grumpy enough that she might still have it. "Feeling any better?" She shook her head gingerly in the negative. She moved past him and reached into the cupboard to withdraw a glass. "Maybe something to eat would help?" he offered.
"Maybe," she grunted.
"I'll see what there is," Sam smiled and turned to look in the refrigerator. He perused the contents, noting that they'd have to go shopping soon when he was startled by a crash and a thump. He whirled around, stunned to see Max, shaking on the floor, one hand grasping the counter and the other, bleeding. As Sam stepped towards her, his mind registered several things. The crunch of glass under his shoes, blood on her face, the immediate need for tryptophan. He reached into the same cupboard she had just moments ago and took out the bottle of pills they kept there for emergencies. Ignoring the glass on the floor, he knelt beside Max and eased her away from the cupboard. She must have hit her head on the counter, judging by the split skin across her temple. He helped her to take the pills, set the bottle on the counter and then reached for a towel hanging from the oven handle. He wrapped it around the cut on her hand and looked for something to wipe the blood from her face. He grabbed several pieces of paper towel and gave the trickle of blood a cursory wipe. Then with a whispered warning, his heart still pounding a mile a minute from the sudden shock, he scooped her up and carried her back to the bedroom. He'd take care of everything else, later.
*****
Dean watched as his opponent lined up a shot on the pool table and missed. Talk about easy money. He was just leaning over the pool table for his shot, when he heard his cell phone ring. He frowned, debating over answering the call. His glance flickered towards the bar, where his father sat. It was getting late, he knew, so who would be calling him. Dean pulled his stick back up and reached for the phone.
"Sorry man," he offered to the other guy when he saw from the screen that it was Sam calling. "Got to take this call." The other guy, Don, waved his hand casually. "Sammy! What's up?" Dean greeted cheerfully as he mentally calculated the time difference. It was probably close to ten, their time.
"Dean?" his brother's voice was soft, trembling and sounded worn out.
"Sam?" Dean repeated, his heart suddenly pounding in his ears. "What's wrong?"
"Dean?" his brother's voice repeated, cracking slightly. "It's Max." Dean's heart surely stopped for a moment. He'd always thought that he could handle something like this, but right at that moment, he literally felt frozen with fear. "She's seizing," his brother continued. "Has been for hours," he added in a scared voice. "It just won't go away Dean. She's... scared she's gonna die." The words and the surety that Sam shared her fear was enough to push Dean into action.
"We're on our way Sammy," he announced, amazed at how steady his voice was as he left the pool table without a second glance, heading straight for his father. "You tell her to hang on Sammy. She's a Winchester! We don't give up!" He could hear his brother still talking as he jerked his father's arm, catching John's immediate attention. "We gotta go! Now!"
"...too far away..."
"What is it?" John demanded, not questioning the need, as he was already grabbing his coat and sliding off the bar stool.
"Max," Dean answered simply as they headed for the exit. "Sam," Dean addressed his brother once more as they climbed into John's truck, everything else forgotten, "just tell her we're on our way. Keep shoving those pills down her throat and anything else you've got!"
"She's already been through two bottles," Sam informed him tiredly and Dean swore under his breath.
"Then take her to the God-damned hospital!"he shouted. "Do something Sam!" He felt John's hand give a squeeze on his shoulder, warning and comforting at the same time.
"What good would it do Dean?" Sam cried out. "It's not like they've got some miracle drug that would alter her basic brain chemistry to..." he trailed off and Dean heard Sam suck in a breath.
"Sam? Sammy!"
"Dean?" his brother's voice was stronger now. "Has Max ever had a seizure after smelling a really strong perfume?"
Dean was thrown for a moment by the abrupt question. "I don't know," he admitted feebly. "Hang on a second." He turned and repeated the question to his father and John's eyebrows furrowed together in concentration.
"Not that I remember. The only thing about perfume that I do remember is that one lady who smelled like she had bathed in it. It gave Max a really bad headache. But that was it. She felt better once we'd left the woman's house," John recalled.
"Did you hear that Sam?"
"I did," Sam confirmed and Dean was relieved to hear the take action, decisive tone. "That's what I needed to know. I'll call you back." Sam hung up quickly and Dean slowly followed after.
"What happened?" John asked quietly and Dean related the details he knew. Never once though did John slow down. No matter what, they weren't about to let Max and Sam suffer through this alone. And if... God forbid... then Sam would need them.
*****
Sam put the phone down and hurried back into the bedroom. Max had kicked the covers off of her body, still trembling, though weaker now from fighting off the seizures. Sam leaned over her, carefully lifting the lapel of her bathrobe up to his nose. He swore softly as he registered that foul scent still lingering. It was the only thing different in the house that he could think of. The only catalyst he could name, especially given John's recollection. But he had said that Max had felt better once she'd gotten away from the perfume. With a clear indication of what he should do, Sam wasted no time at all. Sitting her up, Sam pulled the robe from her body and threw it to the floor. She made a feeble moaning noise.
"I'm sorry baby," Sam muttered as he rushed over to the closet and pulled out his robe as well as a heavy blanket. "I can't think of anything else." He returned to the bed and wrapped the robe around her shoulders and then pulled her to a standing position that she could only managed by leaning heavily against him. He belted and tied the robe and then hastily wrapped the blanket around her as well. Sam scooped her up in his arms and headed for the back door. Once there, he laud her on a chaise lounger. He tucked the blanket as securely around as he could, warding against the chilly night air. He returned to the house to grab his cell phone and another bottle of tryptophan, thankful that they were well stocked.
He needed help, he knew, but who? His first thought was the neighbors, but they were away for the night. His next was Jessica and he gasped. Max had said that Jess had been hit by the perfume as well. He swiftly dialed her number as he hurried back to Max. He swore when he got no answer. Alli was the closest to Jess and it was her that he tried next. He got a hold of her and after a terse and brief explanation, Alli was on her way to Jess' place. It was a long and tense fifteen minutes until she called him back to say that Jess was fine. She had simply had a headache and must have slept through her telephone ringing. That taken care of, Alli was headed over to Sam and Max's to help as she could.
Sam, who was now cradling Max in his lap, trying to share what little body heat he could with her, watched carefully for any indication of anything. The tremors had seemed to slacken somewhat and he was grateful. But several minutes later, the trembling started again. But before Sam could panic, he heard her mumbling his name. "Hey baby," he whispered, hugging her tightly. "I'm here."
"Cold," she mumbled and waves of relief crashed through him. She was reacting to the cold, not another seizure.
"I'm sorry sweetheart," he returned. "I know you are. But hopefully, it won't be for too long." She simply nodded shakily and burrowed as closely to him as possible. He was able to relax his vigilance just a little, though he kept her pills close at hand. He relaxed even more when he heard a car pull up and Alli calling his name. "We're in the backyard," he called back.
Alli came in through the gate, finding them easily, partially bathed in light pouring out of the house. "How're we doing?" she asked as she knelt beside them on the patio.
"Better," Sam informed her confidently. "Except Max is cold. could you get us another blanket. Not the one from the bed though."
Alli nodded. "Would a hot drink help?"
"It wouldn't hurt to try," Sam decided for Max, since she seemed to be uninterested in anything but hanging onto him. "Just nothing caffeinated. And watch out. There's broken glass all over the floor." Alli nodded and with a reassuring smile, headed into the house. Now that help had arrived, Sam could call Dean back. His brother answered immediately.
"Dude! What the hell's going on?" he growled.
"It's okay Dean," Sam soothed. "I think we've got the problem figured out."
"Is Max...?"
"She's doing better. I got her out of the house and-!"
"Dude, there was something in the house?" Dean's concern seemed to spike again and Sam chuckled weakly. That was always the first thing his family's mind went to.
"No Dean. Let me start from the beginning and explain." He quickly went over the salient points of what had happened and what he'd figured out.
"But why was it still bothering her?" Dean puzzled, after he'd related the events to his father.
"Her bathrobe," Sam answered. "It was in the bathroom and she brushed against it. After her shower, she never changed out of it."
"But you got it figured out?"
"You guys helped," Sam added gratefully. He glanced up as Alli brought out a steaming cup of tea. "Nag on a second Dean." He dropped the phone to his lap. "Thanks Alli."
"It's no problem," she smiled softly. "I put a straw in there just in case she had some trouble."
"That's great."
"Okay," I'm going to start in the bedroom and then hit the bathroom so that we can get her back inside where it's warm as soon as possible."
"As soon as that smell is gone, we will," Sam promised.
"Okay," Alli nodded. "Where do you keep your bleach?"
"Second shelf by the washing machine," Sam answered. "There's also some vinegar if the bleach is too harsh." Alli nodded and headed back to the house. Sam pulled the phone back up to his ear. "Seriously Dean," he told his brother, "I might not have figured this out..."
"Family dude!" Dean snorted, thought Sam thought he could detect a glimmer of deeper emotion in him. "Um, do you still want us to come?" he asked quietly. "I mean, it'll take us a few days, even switching off driving. We just dropped everything. Oh damn it!"
"What?" Sam asked as his lips curved upwards.
"When I say everything, I mean it. I think I just lost two hundred dollars I had riding on a pool game," Dean snorted. Sam chuckled.
"Sorry man."
"Ah, don't worry about it. None of it was mine."
"Of course not," Sam demurred. "Hang on, I'm going to try and get some of this tea into Max." He heard his brother's agreement. He held the tea for Max, but she took it from him. She wrapped her hands around the mug and carefully cradled it, taking occasional sips. Sam kept his hand unobtrusively underneath the cup in case it slipped.
"So what the hell are you going to do to this Monique?" Dean asked seriously after a moment.
"Have her arrested for assault," Sam retorted instantly.
"Could you actually do that?"
"Well that's what it was," Sam sighed. "And there were plenty of witnesses, I'm sure. I know Jess would back us up on it. Maybe even add her own charges since Monique got her too. And don't worry, she's fine," Sam forestalled his brothers inquiries in that direction. "She's just got a headache. I had Allison check on her. "
"That's good," Dean sighed. "I mean that she's okay." Sam understood.
The pair of them, with occasional remarks thrown ion from John on Dean's end, continued to plot revenge until Alli returned to tell Sam that the chemical smell was as gone as she could get it. The boys continued to talk a little more once Max was returned inside. There was some debate about them making the trip all the way out to California and at Max's insistence, Sam asked what they'd been hunting. Upon learning what they were after, Max insisted that she was okay and that they'd catch her next time they were through. John talked to her for a few minutes and made her promise that she'd call at the first sign of trouble. All four knew that they never ever wanted this to happen again.
RTD19- That Plan Out The Window
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