A Good Beginning

by Pic

Disclaimer: Character is not mine, but the ideas about temptation are.

Rated: T or M for mature content

Spoilers: Very significant for Earth Angels pilot

Pairing: Maximillian, Earth Angels

Summary: What Maximillian was thinking during the final scene

Dedication: For Susan for being there and encouraging me (and for the videotape)

Summary: Thanks to Sue and Missy for letting me know if I was even close re Maximillian and to Missy for fixing all those damn dashes. Especially thanks to Susan who posed the question - What was Max thinking as he sat there with his rose petals?

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What is evil? I mean, really?

A slight smile formed on Maximillian's lips as he methodically removed the petals from a red rose. He appreciated the irony of someone such as himself-the personification of the word, according to some-contemplating the nature of evil. Chuckling, Maximillian considered his counterpart in this melodrama.

Gregory would say that evil is the antithesis of good.

Fine. A little pedantic, but we can work with that. So, define good then.

Gregory would say that it's the antithesis of evil.

And we'd get nowhere. As usual. He thinks it'll take what's left of eternity to declare a winner. With circular arguments like that, how can we end it any sooner?

Maximillian had aspirations for spending serious time in the winner's circle, basking in the warm glow of victory.

If both sides got real, we could call it a day within this century. Easily.

Unfortunately, Gregory didn't do pragmatic. He was too idealistic. Maximillian, on the other hand, prided himself on his grasp of the practical. After all, he'd won New York City hands down over a century ago. Sure, the fight raged on, but there wasn't any doubt about the eventual outcome. As he'd told Rachel, humans made the wrong choice-if given one-nine times out of ten. Actually, truth be known, it was more like ninety-nine out of a hundred, but he hadn't wanted to add unbridled arrogance to her list of things to hate about him.

And why is that, Max?

Why indeed? One reason was that he didn't want to clue anyone-the lovely Rachel included-in to the other truths he'd discovered during his tenure. With all due respect to Rachel and her "Every Soul is Sacred" contingent, Maximillian had realized early on that the one soul out of ten-or a hundred-that got away wasn't generally worth considering. Ninety to ninety-nine percent was good enough. He didn't need perfection to be satisfied, happy and victorious. Gregory did. And he'd passed that misconception along to his people.

A slowly shaken head and a small mysterious smile accompanied the memory of Rachel's insistence on the importance of his soul. It had been a long time since anyone had worried over Maximillian's spiritual well being. He chuckled over her naivet despite the pensiveness of his mood.

Where was I? Oh, yes, Gregory.

Mr. Don't You Wish You Were Me was missing the boat so badly that he couldn't even find the lake. If they were worth the trouble, and only very, very few humans were, there was always another opportunity to tempt any who resisted. There had yet to be a human whose soul he coveted who'd pitched Maximillian a second strike, much less a third.

Picking up a fourth rose and methodically adding to his pile of petals, Maximillian returned to his abstract musings.

Is it "evil" to test humans? Why have free will, if not to choose? To commit murder. To pervert lust into rape. To crush a friend under the weight of emotional baggage. To take advantage of someone less fortunate. To dominate the weak. To strike the strong while their backs are turned. To stand by and watch injustices, large and small, be perpetrated on others.

And it wasn't as if Maximillian presented the fateful decision without first offering a myriad of other, lesser choices. The humans he tempted squandered numerous chances for what Gregory would call salvation before they earned their soul eternal damnation.

The road to hell is paved with bad choices, not good intentions.

A moment's reflection on that statement left Maximillian pleased by its profundity.

Maybe I should have t-shirts made and send a bunch of them over to Gregory.

Imagining Gregory's reaction to his "twisted" view of free will and Rachel wearing a t-shirt proclaiming it-preferably one that was a size too small-brought a broad grin to Maximillian's lips. War could be fun, if you let it. Maximillian typically adhered to that creed in the face of every trite thing that Gregory tossed in his path but tonight he was waxing philosophical.

Is it "good" to protect humans from the choices that I give them? Is what Gregory does to combat the "evil" that is moi an insult to free will? A dehumanization?

Self-determination requires choices.

Can't have free will in a land of foregone conclusions, Gregory, my man. So I give them choices. Sue me. Bet you won't find a lawyer to take your case on a contingency basis.

If he stacked the deck, as Gregory so cavalierly and repeatedly claimed, Maximillian didn't do it alone. Couldn't really. The humans at issue, asserting their much-heralded free will, allowed him to deal them what might look to the casual observer like a bum hand. Tumbles from grace were personal and couldn't be forced. Coerced, perhaps, but not forced. Humans had to cooperate or the whole house of cards collapsed.

And so did angels.

Maximillian could feel Antonio's approach. Tossing the flower stems aside, he collected the petals in his hand, closed his fist and extended his arm before him. The petals had lost the power of the roses-beauty. Perfume extracted from the petals, however, had a power of its own. A metaphor for Antonio, perhaps-a petal, no longer a rose, but not yet perfume.

Gregory would step up to his own personal lectern and sermonize that what Antonio could become in Maximillian's hands was not akin to perfume in any positive way.

Does he ever tire of narrow-minded, judgmental rigidity? Is that any way to live?

Sanctimonious leanings aside, Maximillian knew how shocked Gregory would be that he could, without an inkling of apprehension, permit the former "good" angel to close in from behind. Antonio was no longer a threat to Maximillian, his minions or his cause. Whether he might be one to his former colleagues was an interesting question, but one for another day.

"Lucas is dead."

He didn't overtly acknowledge Antonio's words, already aware of Lucas' success. By dying at her hand, Lucas had dragged Sarah further along the path that Antonio had walked. A trail that everyone who was anyone, both above and below, had assumed would never be blazed. In orchestrating Antonio's defection, Maximillian had proven them wrong.

Antonio was symbolic of Maximillian's career, another instance where he'd gone against conventional wisdom, accepted long odds and prevailed. There were those who had scoffed at his initial immersion in all things human, unable to see that with understanding came the ability to offer appropriate choices.

That's manipulation to you, Gregory. To me, it's a living and I'm doing quite nicely with it, thank you very much.

His success rate convinced others to abandon the tired Devil and Mr. Jones-style soul acquisition. If humans were tempted only after they had primed themselves for damnation, the uncertainty in the process was dramatically reduced.

You'd think that Gregory would see how fundamentally I changed the game. Acknowledge it somehow. A worthy opponent nod in a memo to Him, if nothing else. Is that too much to ask? A little credit where credit is due. That fits with the "Love thy neighbor" rhetoric, doesn't it?

When Maximillian had introduced the element of efficiency to the temptation schema, there had been even more resistance. A direct, soul-by-soul hands on process was the norm when Maximillian dared to ask the question-why struggle to tempt thirty people when you could tempt one who would kill twenty-nine shooting up a subway car full of hostages and dying in a gunfight with police. Most of the "innocent" victims were not in a state of grace, so Maximillian got twenty plus souls for the price of one solid temptation. Again, results spoke quite a bit louder than the dictates of tradition.

And the "good" guys haven't even noticed the difference. It's maddening.

After that, Maximillian was recognized as an innovator by his peers. Continued successes had brought him as high on the Satanic ladder as he could ascend. He was comfortable, respected and feared. What's more, Lucifer liked him. A lot. Some would say too much.

Jealousy is so ugly. We understand each other, Lucifer and I. That's all there is to it, notwithstanding intriguing rumors to the contrary. But I wonder. What do you make of those whispers, Gregory? Do they keep you up at night, too?

Not permitting himself the distraction of his internally posed questions, Maximillian noted that job security was a good thing. He'd been secure enough to try something completely different-applying the tenets of his refined human temptation system to a different target. Quietly and carefully.

Lucifer's absolutely predictable and admirably consistent about certain things. Fools burn, if they're lucky. If they aren't

Maximillian suppressed a shudder. He intended to keep his success with Antonio to himself for a time. Maximillian needed neither kudos nor rewards from his superiors. He wanted to maintain the advantage of surprise while he widened the breach in Gregory's armor. All of the angels who directly opposed Maximillian-with the exception of the new girl, for now-were in crsis and none of them recognized it. Not even Gregory.

Doing the impossible should be enough. Even for me.

Maximillian acknowledged that it wasn't. Not any longer. Because now she was here-Rachel who had wanted so very much for her human form to be beautiful. Who had barged into his home with no protection and little knowledge of what it meant to be human. Maximillian didn't comprehend why someone so strong would make herself so vulnerable. All he could gather was that she hadn't appreciated the consequences of coming to him.

Does she now, Max? For that matter, do you? Do you really?

Rachel changed the dynamic between he and Gregory. Maximillian had felt it as Gregory undoubtedly had. Curious, he'd sent Lucas to have a look at her and stoke the rage that seethed just below Nathan's surface. True to form, Gregory had assumed that his intention was to do away with Ms. Rachel. Maximillian intended to feed that assumption until it matured into a certainty.

Protect her from me, Gregory. From all the ways that you imagine I can tempt her. And that she can tempt me. Devote all that pent-up energy to that noble goal and I'll go about my business. You see, my oldest friend and dearest enemy, your Rachel isn't a threat. Unless I miss my guess-and I so rarely do-she's an opportunity. The questions are-for what and for whom?

Her behavior was telling somehow, Maximillian was sure of it. Since she was unlikely to share the details of their encounter, his specific knowledge of it put him at least one step ahead of Gregory.

As usual.

"I love a good beginning."

It's not where you start, but where you finish, Max.

He really had to stop watching old musicals. Having so many channels available via satellite was a truly diabolical development in human history. Idle musings aside, there was work to be done and Maximillian did his best thinking in solitude.

"Good night, Antonio."

Like a good minion, Antonio left Maximillian and the rose petals that flowed from his hand to the table when he unclenched his fist. The small, fragile bits of matter had once been long stemmed red roses, yet they spoke to him more as they now were-broken, torn, falling from and then pressed beneath his hand.

Is that how I'll end up?

Maximillian frowned. Defeatist thinking hadn't gotten him to his present, enviable position. Yet he knew that false or misplaced confidence was just as dangerous, particularly now that a game was afoot. Whatever the rules might be.

It would surprise the recently fallen angel and his former compatriots, Gregory included, that Maximillian talked to himself. The spoken word tested the merit of an idea far better than turning it over in one's mind did. His mental voice posed the tough questions, and he'd never considered answering himself to be pathological. Also, his stellar track record ensured that the cream of the minion talent pool was stationed elsewhere. They figured he could make do with less. And he could, but it was trying at times.

He'd just lucked into Lucas. Well, luck wasn't exactly the right word. He killed his former master. They were afraid to put him anywhere else.

They'd been through a lot together, Lucas and Maximillian. He'd rebelled. Maximillian had punished. He'd tested. Maximillian had punished. He'd pushed. Maximillian had punished. He'd obeyed the spirit of his instructions, ignoring the letter completely. Smiling at Lucas' defiance, Maximillian had given Lucas his pick of concubines. Thereafter, Lucas had done anything and everything for Maximillian.

"It'll take me decades to replace him. Damn."

Pushing the petals into a circle, he murmured, "Gregory will expect me to retaliate for Lucas. I won't disappoint him, because it pays to appear predictable and a two front war will satisfy Gregory."

He stood, leaning upon the hand resting on the rose petals. "Protect the humans. Keep the pretty new angel's virtue safe from Maximillian." When lifted, his hand was smeared with red from the flowers. It looked a little like blood. "Oh, Gregory, you claim to know me so well, but you never look beyond the obvious."

Eyes narrowing, Maximillian whispered, "Though you need to believe differently, I have Antonio and, in comparison, Nathan will be a piece of cake. Angel food cake," he specified with a harsh laugh. "Highly volatile and in love with a junkie. It doesn't get any easier than that. Even when the mark is an angel." Nathan's temper had been lovingly honed to razor sharpness over the last several years. Bit by bit, his fuse had been shortened to a near human length when protection of the quote-unquote innocent was at issue. His feelings for the young, troubled waitress had been an unexpected boon.

"Lucas could've handled Nathan on his own and lived to tempt another day, if only Sarah had a few more human weaknesses to nurture." She was a tougher nut to crack, but Maximillian thought she might be inspired to do something interesting in defense of her erstwhile colleagues or for a young law enforcement officer that she'd befriended. Even so, he suspected he'd need another arrow in his quiver to turn her. Not a problem, since he had a sharp one that would fly true.

What will Miss Sarah do to get her Antonio back?

"And you. Do I know you, Gregory, my poor, dear misguided brother?" Maximillian sighed, expression nearly melancholy, as he paced the floor of his study with measured strides. "Losing Antonio is eating at you, slowly but surely. Has you harkening back to 'losing' me, doesn't it?"

Frowning, he muttered, "You can't lose what you don't have. My choice was my own, but you never once thought of it in those terms. And you call me arrogant?"

Shaking his head, Maximillian turned and regarded the rose petals he'd abandoned. "Imagine how you'll feel when I sway them to my way of thinking. You'll confront me and fall neatly in line. All I'll have to do is stand back out of the way and watch." It was too bad, really. An angel of Gregory's stature should be more of a challenge.

Speaking of challenges

"And what of Rachel? How exactly does she alter the status quo? It isn't just her strength or her bravado that charges the atmosphere. Or the beauty of the human form she chose. Nothing that straightforward."

The memory of her form and how it had reacted to his proximity brought a grin to his face and an answering stir in his body, but Maximillian's sharp mind was working at solving the puzzle she presented. In his experience, if something wasn't amenable to analysis from one angle, there was often benefit in approaching it from another.

"How did they find Keyes so quickly? Lucas reported no witnesses. Our latest pet sociopath wasn't a regular at the bar where he'd picked up the girl and, miracle of miracles, didn't make a habit of calling attention to himself."

Maximillian frowned in concentration. "If He's replaced Antonio with an angel who can make connections that are beyond the ability of most, then He's worried about me."

Aware was one thing - an ego boost for Maximillian. Worried was something else again. Both flattered and nervous, Maximillian laughed, spreading his hands expansively and glancing upward as he spoke. "But why now? I've never operated beneath the radar." The answer was so obvious that he looked quickly around the room to be sure that no one had overheard his latest mutterings. "Antonio. I didn't just take him from Gregory, now did I?"

The stakes had suddenly gotten higher, leaving him with little choice than to consider the possible implications of direct divine interest in his enterprises. Taking a deep breath to release a measure of his tension, Maximillian strode purposefully across his office to lock the door, noting absently the humanness of his coping mechanism and precaution. Things were in motion. Certain projects were at critical stages. He had to decide how to proceed.

"When He rears his um Godly head, it's best to go back to first principles. Manipulation requires understanding. To understand, you must experience. Destruction enhances understanding and construction perfects it."

As philosophies went, it wasn't bad. There was logic to it and, underneath the annoyingly ebullient persona he'd carefully crafted to irritate Gregory, Maximillian was an extremely logical being.

He had also experienced virtually everything human existence had to offer - the good, the bad and the ugly-including all of those things that were forbidden to Gregory and his entourage. Maximillian had also destroyed humans in every way imaginable and lured an angel away from the heavenly fold. Unbeknownst to anyone other than himself, he'd tried his hand at a form of creation.

"Graham was so similar to Keyes." They worshipped women to an unhealthy degree and pursued them relentlessly. Unbridled possessiveness stifled the relationships they tried to form. Any slight or disloyalty, real or perceived, was punished by minor aggression.

"We gave Keyes the opportunity to alienate his only friends, numerous assignments to photograph beautiful women in suggestive poses and a sexual harassment charge to ruin his last day. I gave Graham a supportive therapist, a boss who kept his assignments non-sexual and made sure his best friend introduced him to the nice young woman from purchasing." Keyes committed suicide. Graham married and had a baby on the way.

He'd undertaken the experiment on a lark, thumbing his nose at Gregory in yet another way, doing something he'd have to admire but be unable to emulate.

Free will rears its ugly head again.

Grumbling, he asserted, "Free will is their excuse for not being proactive. It doesn't take any initiative to sit around, wait for me to do something and then run around making save the soul noises. They're lazy." Maximillian giggled as he imagined Gregory's outrage at the characterization, not to mention his own amused reaction to it.

Saving a soul is bad for the heinously evil image.

"Not if no one finds out."

If He's interested

"I may look human, but resemblance isn't enough," Maximillian muttered gratefully. "With respect to me, He's only as good as his agents in the field. They won't ever understand because they don't experience their humanity fully. They get the emotions-anger, lust, maybe even love, but the aggressive and sexual outlets are against the rules. If they don't have a clue what I'm about, which they don't, they won't look for Graham or recognize what he represents if they accidentally trip over him."

For some reason, Gregory's words at their last meeting chose that moment to intrude. "He thinks I want to come back." Pitching his voice lower, Maximillian spoke his mind aloud for the first time. "If I'm jumping to the winning side, maybe." Once spoken, uttering a clarification didn't seem to be untoward or tempting fate. "Never hurts to hedge your bets."

Not a bad idea. How?

Turning slowly on his heel, Maximillian pursed his lips and murmured, "Rachel."

What about Rachel? Let's not make her the answer to all problems to justify wanting to sleep with her.

An idea teased at the back of Maximillian's mind when he forcibly shunted aside his attraction to Gregory's newest. In order to coax it forward, he stated what he knew and hoped for inspiration. "Rachel is different. She sees things the others don't. Can she make the connection I have? Could she see that my methods can be used to help the pathetic humans make the right choice rather than the wrong one?"

Since he didn't know the nature of her power, the only safe assumption was that she eventually could if she didn't already. "Ok," Maximillian allowed, gesturing broadly. "Assume she sees the potential for 'good' in my methods. Could she use them to oppose me?"

The strategy wasn't complex, and computers vastly simplified implementation. Exploitable weaknesses were evaluated and rated. A plan was then developed to maneuver the human to a state of susceptibility to temptation, converting those weaknesses into true spiritual liabilities and creating situations where one or more of those liabilities were spotlighted. Finally, the scenario containing the damnation decision was constructed and the chips fell as they did. Nine times out of ten-ninety-nine times out of a hundred-they landed where Maximillian predicted.

A few moments reflection on the process gave him his answer. "No, I tip my hand too late in the game for that kind of intervention."

If she makes connections that shouldn't be made, could she find Graham?

"Maybe."

What would that mean?

"She'd tell Gregory. If he believed her, and that's a huge if, he'd let Him know. And eventually, Lucifer would hear of it." Returning to his desk, Maximillian swept the rose petals to the floor with a rapid backhand motion. V Are we in trouble?

"No." Frowning, Maximillian growled, "I could sell Graham as part of the Keyes deal. If I was suitably red faced, I'd get away with a slap on the wrist from our side." Voice lowering slightly in uncertainty, he added, "Probably." There was no avoiding a muttered, "But what else would He do?"

Rachel is His instrument.

"Yeah. So what?"

Knowledge is power, Max.

"Not if you don't understand what you profess to know." Chuckling ruefully, he added, "What chance does she have of that? Gregory's known me forever and he's almost completely in the dark."

Power notwithstanding, it would be nice if the opposition understood. He'd spent quality time on some truly cutting edge stuff. Recognition was good. Led to respect and other things. Opportunities. Options. If she understood, Rachel might be able to open the path he wanted to him. But did Rachel have the capacity to understand? Would she even be willing to hear? V She understood Keyes and the danger to the women she'd borrowed features from. And she's new, Max. Curious.

"It might be worth a try." Maximillian grunted softly, brow furrowed in thought. "It would help if I knew how she made the connection between Keyes and the girl."

Invite her to dinner and ask.

"Why would she tell me?"

She's already proven to be manipulable by your hand. Have you grown a conscience when I wasn't looking?

"That'll be the day." Applying himself to the problem, Maximillian muttered, "Let's see. She might assume that I know already and that I'm just playing with her. No reason not to tell if that's the case." Grinning, he stated a more favored alternative. "I might be able to make her nervous in a good way, so that she chatters to cover her tension."

His smug smile faded slightly when he realized he was jumping the gun. Rachel just might be intrigued enough to accept but there were other obstacles. "Gregory wouldn't let her come."

And he let her waltz in here tonight?

Good point. Maximillian imagined explaining himself-his accomplishments, motivations and aspirations-to Rachel and was amazed by how much the idea appealed to him. One could only be enigmatic for so long. The appeal of dark and mysterious had waned without him realizing it.

Stunned, Maximillian factored Rachel's understanding of him into the equation upon which he'd based his success. "If she understands, she can manipulate." Halting in the middle of the room, Maximillian's eyes were drawn to the rose petals scattered on the floor and he grudgingly accepted the imagery. He was willing to accept the risk of ending up scattered to the four winds.

"Maybe my soul is in play after all." To his surprise, the idea excited him. Smiling slyly, he murmured, "I wonder what Rachel would be willing to give me for it."

Finis

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