On Ancient Wings

by Cynamin


Part Four

Doctor Hasna, working the night shift as usual, looked up when the front desk nurse ducked into the room where she was treating a patient. The nurse spoke before Hasna could ask anything.

“You’ve got repeat customers,” she said.

Hasna looked at her in surprise. “Who is it?”

The nurse gave a nervous grin. “The odd couple.”

Hasna took a moment to interpret the unusual description. Then she realized the date and that exactly a week had passed. Nearly to the minute, actually. “I’ll be with them in a moment,” she replied. “Uh...give them a private room, hmm?”

“Already done. E 110,” the nurse replied easily, leaving her with the patient once again.

Hasna finished with her one patient quickly, cleaning him up and sending him on his way, then made her way to room E 110. It was a corridor that wasn’t under heavy use, giving the room even more privacy than expected. As evidenced by the desk nurse, the staff was more comfortable with the clinic’s unusual visitors than a week ago. The same could not be said about the average patient, unfortunately.

The doctor entered the room quietly and couldn’t help but smile at the interaction between the two occupants. The patient was seated on the bed, her back to the door, speaking quickly and happily, apparently about absent friends. Her companion – amazingly pleasant master vampire – noticed Hasna’s entrance but other than that smiled and nodded and listened to the girl’s story.

“Hello again,” Miss Summers,” Doctor Hasna said when the girl paused.

Buffy swiveled around on the bed and grinned. “Doctor,” she said pleasantly. “Angel and I were just reminiscing.”

“I noticed,” Hasna replied. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Buffy said quickly.

“Let me take a look,” Hasna insisted.

Buffy sat back on the bed and lifted her shirt. Hasna could not help but gape at her. Instead of the angry red new scars she expected, the gashes had faded until they were almost indistinguishable from the uninjured skin surrounding them. Buffy smiled. “I heal fast,” she said.

“No kidding,” Hasna muttered, flicking her hair over her shoulder in what might be considered a nervous gesture. “Miss Summers,” she said seriously, “are you fully human?”

“Well, yeah!” the girl said quickly. “I’m stronger and faster and I heal quick, but I’m still human.”

Doctor Hasna looked at her in blatant disbelief.

“Buffy,” her vampire companion said gently.

Buffy sighed. “Not that it makes any difference to you, but I’m a Vampire Slayer,” she said.

Hasna’s thoughts raced. That fit all available facts except...several, actually. “Last I heard the Slayer was a wealthy Asian girl. So unless she died in the last...five days, you’re not her.”

Buffy looked more than a bit surprised that Hasna knew what she was talking about. “I died once,” she said.

Hasna glanced at Angel, who nodded. Problem number two.... “You’re a vampire slayer, and yet the two of you...?”

“That’s a long story and really none of your business,” Buffy said defensively. “And how do you know about the Slayer, anyway?”

“A lot of weird things come through here,” Hasna supplied. “I’ve made a point of learning all that I can.”

Buffy pulled her shirt back down. “Not that this isn’t fascinating, but can I go?” she asked.

“I have no way to hold you.”

Buffy nodded and hopped up from the bed. She looked at Hasna with a thoughtful expression. “So, you see a lot of weird things here, hmm?”

“Yes,” Hasna replied, wondering where she was going with this.

“Those weird things wouldn’t happen to include someone who knows a little something of soul magik, would it?”

Behind her, Angel gasped. Hasna suddenly found the full weight of both of their attentions upon her. This was important.

“Why?” she asked suspiciously.

“We have this problem with a curse....”


After walking up two flights of stairs decorated heavily with astrological symbols and other, less recognizable designs, then passing through layers of beaded curtains, Buffy and Angel stood in a small, tacky office. Buffy almost burst out laughing, except the office’s proprietor – in equally ridiculous robes – stood there waiting for them.

“Good evening to both of you,” the woman said solemnly. She was quite old, and her completely white hair was tied back in a bun.

Buffy just blinked at her for a second. “Um, are you Regina Osgold? Doctor Hasna, from the clinic, said you might be able to help us?”

The old woman smiled, wrinkles crinkling around her eyes. “Ah yes, that sweet girl,” she said. “She told me you were coming.” She closed and locked the door the two of them had just entered through, then gestured for them to follow.

Buffy and Angel glanced at each other, and Buffy shrugged. This was not at all what they were expecting.

The aging fortuneteller opened another door, hidden at the back of the office. Abruptly they went from a tacky, carnival atmosphere to a warm and homey living area. A step ahead of them, the old woman removed her robe to reveal a basic gray jumpsuit underneath. She flung the robe carelessly over the back of a kitchen chair. “Would either of you like some tea?” she asked.

Buffy just looked at her in confusion. “Umm, no, thank you.”

Mrs. Osgold turned her attention to Angel. “And you? Surely you’ll join me in a cup of tea. I hate to drink alone.”

“Alright,” Angel acquiesced.

The old woman grinned, placing two large mugs on the table. They both bore chips at the rim and fine cracks along their sides, but neither leaked at all when she filled them. “Now, don’t you mind all those trappings,” she said to both of them, gesturing at the outer office. “Most people come here, I show them flash, wish them money and love, and send them on their way. It keeps those that prey on true psychics and witches away from my door.”

“But you can help us?” Buffy asked.

“I’ll try,” she replied. “If I can’t help you, I’ll find someone who can.” She smiled at both of them reassuringly. “We mages stick together.” She took a slow sip of her tea, and Angel raised his own mug to drink.

The woman watched both of them over her mug for a moment. “You’re an interesting pair,” she said.

Buffy couldn’t help but fidget under her gaze.

“You are displaced in time,” she said to Buffy, “and yet not. There is nothing in you that rejects being here. It is most confusing. But you are tied to each other more than you realize. I can not tell you how it will turn out, but I wish you well in that.”

Buffy placed her hand on Angel’s leg under the table, in desperate need of reassurance.

“But you’re the one who’s really here to see me, yes?” she asked Angel.

“Yes, Mrs. Osgold.”

The fortuneteller chuckled. “Just Regina, dear. No need for formalities.” She took another slow sip of her tea. “You’re a fascinating one. I’ve never seen one like you in all my years.”

Buffy chuckled. “Yeah, he’s one of a kind.”

The woman went on regardless. “You belong in this time,” she said, “and yet you seem more displaced in it than she is.”

Angel shifted uncomfortably.

“You’ve spent a long time hiding,” she said. “You think you’ve been hiding from others, but you’ve truly been hiding from yourself. You’re at a turning point, now. You can either go back into hiding, or you can become someone new. Someone whole, and part of the world around them. Personally, I’d recommend the latter.”

She took another sip of tea before she continued. “You have a destiny,” she said. “You already know this. I’m not telling you anything you don’t know. But you can not just sit and wait for destiny to come to you. You must seek it out, and embrace it when you find it.”

She smiled then. “But you already knew all that.”

They drank their tea in unison.

Buffy fidgeted again. “Fascinating, really,” she said, “but not why we’re here.”

“Really, child?”

Buffy bristled at her tone. “Yes, remember? A matter of the soul?”

“These are matters of the soul.”

Buffy had to fight not to roll her eyes. “And a curse?”

“Curse?” The old woman seemed genuinely confused.

Angel was more patient with her than Buffy. “My soul is only here because of a Gypsy curse,” he explained. “But the curse...has broken before.”

The woman looked at him intently. “I do not know what you are talking about,” she said.

“Then you can’t help us?”

“You don’t need helping,” Regina clarified.

“But my soul....”

“Is yours by right.” She was looking at him intently. “What you describe would involve a dissonance between soul and body. There is none. Your demon is more at odds with you than your soul.”

Angel just blinked at her.

Buffy gaped. “Then...he can be happy?”

“Is that what broke the curse before?”

Angel nodded.

“Your soul is yours,” the woman said, “until the eventual true death of your flesh.” She smiled then, the serious psychic replaced once again by the congenial grandmother. “I guess you’ll be leaving then?” she asked.

“Um...yeah,” Buffy replied, standing.

Angel hesitated a moment, then stood as well.

“Will you have a cookie before you go?”

Buffy couldn’t help but grin. “No, thank you.”

“Well,” Regina said, seeing them to the door, “it was nice meeting you two. If you ever need anything....”

“We’ll visit,” Buffy assured her.

“Angel?”

Angel turned to look at her with one hand on the door.

“Every living being is both good and evil,” she said. “Monster and human. Those parts of a being can create a harmony of action or a cacophony you will be drowned in.” She smiled at him slightly. “Don’t ignore the human – in yourself and others – when it is the monster that shows its face.”


Angel was filled with conflicting emotions as Buffy and he returned to his...their home. Mostly he was confused, mixed with a heavy dose of anger. How long had the curse not been an issue? Was this a recent thing, or did it go all the way back to the last time his soul was restored? How come he never knew? Was him laboring under the false assumption that the simple act of being perfectly happy would release his demon upon the world amusing to someone?

Yet beneath that conflict something unaccustomed was growing. Getting stronger by the moment, a sense of relief and hope was swelling in him. Not that he planned to immediately test the old psychic’s revelation, but it was...nice to know happiness wasn’t forbidden.

“Do you trust her?” Buffy asked suddenly. She had been silent the entire way to the lair.

“Yes,” Angel replied without hesitating.

“And...you’re okay?”

Angel nodded, but he couldn’t meet Buffy’s gaze yet. “I just...”

“Just what?”

Angel sighed. “I want to know when my soul became...mine,” he said. “Even if there wasn’t potential for perfect happiness, there’s still a difference between unhappiness and enforced despair.”

“But...you’re glad?”

“Yes, I’m glad,” Angel replied quickly. “I mean, not that I’m going to...test it immediately. It’s not like...”

Buffy chuckled.

“What?” Angel asked in surprise, looking to see her grinning at him.

“You have serious self-confidence issues, you know that?” she said with a laugh. “I mean, I nearly jumped you yesterday, and don’t tell me you weren’t returning the attention. That’s why we looked into the curse in the first place!”

Angel fought a smile and nodded at her.

She stepped close enough to him that they were nearly touching. “I told you I’m staying,” she said. “I still love you, and have missed you. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“I don’t want to be alone, either,” Angel found himself whispering.

Her face broke into a broad grin, and Angel smiled back.

“Are you waiting for something in particular?” Buffy teased.

Angel grinned at her and closed that last tiny distance between them with a kiss. In that one moment, he put aside thoughts of appearances, of the monster in the man, and in her arms remembered what it was like to just be.


Buffy blinked her way to full wakefulness. She was burrowed into a delightful haven of old blankets, beaten pillows, and familiar cool flesh. She could smell dust and sweat, but that was familiar, too. Her current position wasn’t, though, comfortably nestled against Angel’s chest. That was delightfully new. She smiled and snuggled close.

Angel’s arm wrapped around her shoulder. She looked up at him. “You’re awake,” he said, pleasantly surprised.

“Mmm.” She smiled as she looked up at him. There was a pleasant silence in the lair this evening, a delightful lethargy she didn’t want to disturb. She wanted to sleep right here forever, but she couldn’t. She shifted to look at him closer. “How are you?”

Angel just smiled, his eyes shining with love and a new sense of contentment. If the eyes are the windows to the soul, it was quite obvious that his soul wasn’t going anywhere. He was actually smiling wide enough that Buffy could see a glimpse of his fang over her bottom lip. He held her a little closer.

As much as she wanted the moment to last, she had a reason for asking. “I mean, how are you feeling?”

Angel’s smile slipped. “We were having a moment,” he protested a bit playfully.

“I want to know,” Buffy insisted.

Angel frowned now. “You don’t need to mother me, Buffy.” His lip quirked, fighting a smile at his inadvertent choice of words.

Buffy didn’t even blink at the years separating them anymore. She just smiled at him. “I like taking care of you,” she said. “Now, how are you feeling?”

Angel sighed.

“Well?” Buffy persisted.

“My hands still ache,” he admitted very softly. “Nothing new there.”

Buffy looked up at him seriously. Then she shifted, sitting up higher against the headboard. “Give me your hand,” she requested.

She felt Angel tense, his self-consciousness suddenly retuned. “Buffy...” he protested.

“Angel...” she retorted. “You’re being silly. I love you. I’ve seen you naked, for God’s sake!” she said in irritation, drawing attention to their current, unclothed state. “Give me your hand.”

He shifted and held out his hand that was not around her shoulder. She grasped it without hesitation, yet gentle at the same time. She did not even blink at its deformed shape, at the fingers that were permanently curved, or the sharp nails they ended in, enhancing their claw-like appearance. Gently she held his hand in her two smaller ones. “Relax,” she requested.

Angel was tense for a moment more, then his hand seemed to get heavier as he allowed her to support it. She knew his hands had been bothering him for days, signs of an impending change. No matter how much she assured him that any changes he underwent could not turn her away, he doubted. She could only prove it to him when the time came, and try to ease the ache in his hands – and heart – until then.

She brought the hand to her lips and kissed his knuckle. He chuckled and some measure of tension was released. Slowly she began to massage his palm with her thumbs. As she felt his preternaturally cool flesh warm beneath her touch, she moved her attention to his fingers. She rubbed the joints with gentle pressure and Angel sighed again, but in contentment this time as he relaxed still further. He surrendered to her touch.

Buffy smiled slightly. With that small encouragement she continued her work on his fingers. She felt muscles long clenched begin to relax. There was a sudden release in his ring finger and Angel gasped.

“Are you okay? Did that hurt?” Buffy asked quickly, stopping what she was doing.

“I’m okay,” he assured her.

Buffy turned to catch his eye. “You’re sure?”

Angel nodded. “It hurt for a second,” he admitted. “But...it was a good pain. Now...” he curled and uncurled his fingers for a moment in Buffy’s grasp. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” he concluded, pleasantly surprised.

Buffy was surprised as well. Relaxed again in her hand, she looked at his claw-like fingers. His ring finger stood out a little straighter, a little more human than the others. As she held it between her fingers, moving it gently, she discovered its full range of mobility restored. She smiled, and moved on to the next finger, and the next. Slowly she was rewarded with muscles unclenching, releasing from the positions they’d been held in for decades.

One hand done, she removed the arm from around her shoulders and began to work on his other hand. Angel’s eyes were closed, and Buffy sensed that he was just barely awake. She kept up her self-appointed task until both hands were relaxed in a less clawed appearance. They still didn’t look completely human – seeming oddly lengthened along with their sharp nails – but they were better.

“Angel,” Buffy prodded gently.

“Hmm?” Angel blinked at her, drowsy.

She smiled at him. “Wake up sleepy head,” she teased.

He opened his eyes fully. “Thank you,” he said.

“Better?” Buffy asked honestly.

Angel nodded. “The ache is gone,” he said in surprise.

“Mmm,” Buffy murmured noncommittally. She tilted her head up to look at him even closer. He was grinning, then playfully wrapped her in his arms and rolled her onto his chest. He brought her head to his and kissed her eagerly. His hands went behind her head, into her hair...and stopped abruptly as they encountered a knot.

“Ow,” Buffy declared with a chuckle, pulling away from his lips.

“Sorry,” Angel whispered, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He tried to untangle his fingers, but only managed to tug the knot some more.

“Let me help,” Buffy said.

“No, I’ve got it,” Angel assured her, and moments later the pressure on her hair was released. An odd look passed over Angel’s face.

“What is it?” Buffy asked urgently.

Angel pulled his hand out from behind her, looking at it in surprise. He stretched the fingers as straight as they could go until they were fully extended. A slow and delighted smile spread across his face.

“About time you noticed,” Buffy teased.

He said nothing for several moments, curling his hand into a fist and then spreading the fingers once again. “I never expected...” he managed.

“Change?” Buffy supplied, smiling.

Angel nodded. “Not like this,” he explained. “But...the pain is gone. Change.”

“For the better.”

Angel was grinning broadly. “How?”

Buffy replied with a question of her own. “How are you feeling today, Angel?”

He looked at her curiously at the seeming repeat of her waking question. Then he grinned in sudden understanding. “Reborn,” he said, his voice delighted and not at all distorted by his constant fangs, “and very, very human.”

Buffy grinned back at him. She hadn’t seen him so happy...ever, that she could remember. Abruptly he sat up, full of energy, tossing aside blankets. “Where are you going?” Buffy asked, both puzzled and amused.

He stood up, stark naked. “I want to draw you,” he declared, making his way across the room.

Buffy laughed out loud. “Draw me?”

He nodded eagerly. He shuffled through the pile of books and papers Buffy had not yet managed to rearrange. “It’s been so long since I’ve drawn you,” he explained. He looked at his right hand again, fingers flat against the tabletop. “It’s been so long since I’ve drawn,” he amended.

“Angel,” Buffy interrupted with a laugh.

He kept right on going heedless. “I know I have some blank paper here somewhere.... I mean, I did....”

Buffy had never seen Angel so...giddy. Manic almost. “Angel!” she said a little louder. His head snapped up at last. Buffy held up a blanket in front of her chest as she reprimanded him, “You are not drawing me like this.”

He looked at her in confusion. “Like what?”

Buffy looked back at him wide eyed. “Well, ignoring the fact that I’m not entirely comfortable posing nude, even for you, look at me! My hair is a mess—“

“You look beautiful,” Angel interrupted.

“You always say that,” Buffy retorted.

Angel stepped around the table to look at her seriously. “You’re beautiful,” he said again.

Buffy looked him up and down appreciatively in turn. “You’re beautiful, too,” she said. “You’re also naked, which means you should be snuggling with your girlfriend and not wandering about the room looking for a pencil and paper!”

Angel chuckled. “Well, since you put it that way....”

“Come here,” Buffy said with a laugh. “You can draw me later.”

He flopped back down on the blankets. “You promise?” he teased.

Buffy grinned back at him. “Sure. We’ve got plenty of time.”


It was hard to get a glimpse of the sky, but standing here, tilting her head all the way back, she could see the palest pink of early dawn in a tiny sliver of open air. It made no difference in the light level this far down, but it made Buffy smile. Even if she couldn’t see it, the sun still rose every day, and so long as that was true everything would be alright.

She could sense Angel moving behind her, and held out her hand to him. His hand was in hers moments later, large and cool.

“I think I know why I’m here, Angel,” she said.

He squeezed her hand. “Why is that?”

“I’m needed here. Now.”

Angel didn’t reply, but his silence was questioning.

“You’re here, for one. You need me,” Buffy added.

“I was here all the years in between,” Angel protested. “I needed you then, too.”

Buffy shrugged. “Maybe so. I think there’s something else too, though.”

He was standing next to her now, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. “What is it?”

Buffy shrugged. “I don’t know. Something’s coming.” She leaned into Angel’s shoulder. “Something big. Maybe the very thing that we were both put on this planet to face.”

“Destiny,” Angel said in understanding.

Buffy nodded. She looked up again, searching above her for that sliver of sky. It was slightly lighter now – it was day already on the rooftops. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Angel followed her gaze and looked up at the light that could never reach him. “It would be more beautiful up there,” he said. “Where you can actually see the sky.”

“Maybe,” Buffy agreed. “But we’re not up there. Even if I could get there, this is where I am. Where we are. Where we’re needed.”

“You don’t ever...?” Angel hesitated. “You should see the sunlight.”

Buffy smiled at him. “I will, someday. And when I do, I’ll see it with you.”

Angel smiled back, encouraged by recent changes – his eyes back to human brown, his hands returning to their unclawed appearance.... He would see the sunlight again someday. He only hoped it wasn’t the last thing he saw, but rather his first sight as a human, his destiny fulfilled.

He kissed her on the forehead and for once found himself looking forward to what the future would bring.

Things were changing for the better.


On to the much requested sequel, One For the Ages

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