No, that wasn't right. Everything around him had been like this all along. He just couldn't hide from it as before. Buffy's very presence effected him just like it had the first time he'd seen her – drawing him suddenly and irrevocably from the shadows, literal and metaphorical. Once again she surrounded him with the essence of the humanity he lacked. He was drawn back into public identity by her just as he might be drawn to sunlight – beautiful, longed for, but deadly.
It terrified him.
He wasn't human. He hadn't even appeared human in a long time. Even more terrifying, though, he didn't know if he knew how to be human anymore. How to pretend. He couldn't remember what it felt like to live, to interact, to just be. It had been so long, perhaps too long for him to ever return.
But Buffy…she was different. Beautiful and vibrant, even when gravely injured, she carried on with the strength and heart he remembered from that too brief time ages ago. She was the antithesis of change.
Change; unchanged. Darkness and light. Monster and human. Death and life.
Yeah, Angel was confused.
Buffy seemed to continue on regardless. Well, no, not regardless. She was very aware of him at all times, smiling and speaking to him even when he was too befuddled to answer. Which felt odd in and of itself – she never hesitated, there were no uncomfortable silences, just the warm glow of acceptance and companionship. Unintentionally, they were both grasping on to old shreds of familiarity from before the world went dark.
"So," Buffy had asked soon after they returned from the hospital together, "what kind of demons were those?"
Angel just shrugged.
Buffy looked at him with raised eyebrows. "If you don't know what they are, how do you plan to kill them?"
"I…." Angel couldn't think of what to say. He didn't plan to kill demons anymore. He just did. He no longer had a seer to direct him to people in trouble, no drawn out hunts. He killed what he happened to find as he wandered and that was that.
"What?" Buffy asked with a chuckle. "You just cut off their heads and figure they'll die?"
"It works," Angel muttered.
"Sure, if the things have necks," Buffy retorted.
Angel couldn't help but smile ever so slightly.
"Well then," she said, moving slowly across the room. She cleaned off his second chair, long covered by books, and carefully lowered herself onto it due to her injuries and its rickety nature. "I'm not usually research girl," she declared. "You tell me where to look."
"Uh…."
Buffy just looked at him patiently. "There are three angry demons out there," she said. "If you think they're going to stand by with us half blinding them…."
"Strasman's Compendium," Angel interrupted her.
Buffy grinned broadly. "There, that wasn't so hard." Her smile slipped and she gestured to the pile of books. "Uh…which one?"
So research mode commenced, and Angel found himself looking back with
nostalgia on other times. The early times pouring over prophecies with
Giles, and the years of Angel Investigations with Wesley…this was a sort
of camaraderie he used to be familiar with, where talking was unnecessary
and he could bury himself in someone else's written words. As long as it
had been
since he opened one of these books, it had been even longer before
that since he'd had someone else to look at them with him.
It turned out to be both good and bad this time to have someone with him. On the one hand there was that silent companionship. The more time went on, the less Angel could imagine being alone again. He knew he would be eventually – simple fact – but if he could put that off forever he would. On the other hand, Angel had been alone for so long. He'd become intensely private, for one. Breaking that habit and adjusting his existence to accommodate for someone else's presence did not come easily. And this was Buffy, which raised other issues. Like things he had kept from her for so long he'd forgotten she'd never known….
Angel was reading yet another obscure demon reference when one of those later issues practically smacked him in the face. He had the large tome open on his lap and was scanning the text with one nail running across the page. It looked like this might hold the information they were looking for, but the archaic German was difficult to puzzle out even without the faded ink. Buffy sat across from him, still sorting through the massive piles of books.
"What's this?" she asked abruptly.
Angel finished the sentence he was reading and glanced up, expecting to see another old book with a battered cover. Instead there was an old notebook in her hand, rebound several times, with pages torn and slipping from their rings. If Angel could have, he would have paled.
He's forgotten he still had that.
"Uh…it is…was Wesley's," he managed.
"Oh," Buffy said softly as she began to very carefully open it.
"Buffy!" he said quickly.
She looked at him again, startled no doubt by the abruptness of his tone.
"It's not…it has nothing to do with…." he struggled.
"What is it?"
Angel swallowed the lump in his throat. "Prophecy. Translations."
Buffy looked at him oddly. "You're sure there's nothing…?"
"No!" Angel snapped, standing.
Buffy jerked back in surprise.
"There's nothing," he said more gently. Nothing but empty promises and battled still to be fought. It was the iron grip of the Powers That Be, keeping him alive for some supposed battle that never came. So God damn important…. "It doesn't matter," he said, gesturing at the book he'd been reading. "I know what I need to know."
He turned away from her, grabbing the broadsword standing against the wall.
"I'm coming with you," she said from behind him.
"No," Angel said, not even looking at her. "You're not."
He left at a speed he knew she could not follow.
Well, some wry part of her noted, at least she got a reaction out of him. Less than a week ago she wouldn't have gotten that much.
So Buffy frowned, and she worried, and eventually she read. She read about a vampire with a soul, written about ages before his own birth. She read about battles, fiends, and plagues he was meant to face, and she read about his reward. Multiple translation and reinterpretations, but it all led to one conclusion.
Some day, Angel would be human.
There was no hint of when or how, but there it was. Angel would one day be a vampire no longer, but rather a living, breathing member of the human race. Buffy read the notes over more than once, her thoughts a turmoil of possibilities. She couldn't find the answer to one question, though.
Why had her finding this upset Angel so much?
She was jolted out of her thoughts suddenly. Just as abruptly as he'd left, Angel returned. Buffy was startled and shocked by his appearance. Only his sword was free of gore – cleaned before he left the battle site as always. His shirt was practically shred to ribbons, and the red blood mixing with blue demon ooze testified to the wounds beneath.
"Angel!" Buffy could not help but cry, springing from her chair, heedless of her half healed injuries.
He looked at her, saying nothing. Buffy could see him wincing with every step he took. Sitting heavily in his chair, Buffy could see lines of pain on his face.
She rushed to action, grabbing the first aid supplies and going quickly to his side.
"Don't," he said oddly, flinching away from her first attempt to check his wounds.
He couldn't exactly go far, and Buffy would not be dissuaded. "Stop it," she said sternly. "Take off your shirt so that I can look at your wounds."
Angel looked at her stubbornly. "You need those," he insisted, gesturing at the bandages and antiseptic wash she carried.
"I'm almost healed," she retorted. "Slayer, remember?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "Take off your shirt."
After one more stubborn look that Buffy easily matched, Angel complied. Once the wounds were laid bare, Buffy sat next to him on the chair's armrest and began to carefully wipe blood and gore away. Angel trembled under the first couple of touched and Buffy couldn't help but be reminded of an animal yearning to escape. He relaxed only after a couple of minutes and let Buffy bandage his wounds. He was silent.
"So," Buffy said after a long while, taping one bandage on his back into place, "did clobbering some demons make you feel better?"
"No," Angel replied simply.
Buffy knew what that felt like. "Did you get them?"
"They're dead."
Buffy nodded and they fell into silence once again. It was awkward this time, an to her surprise it was Angel who broke it.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper. He sounded absolutely miserable.
"Because I don't like seeing you in pain," Buffy replied honestly.
"I would have healed," Angel began to reply.
Buffy finished securing the last bandage – low across the ribs – and then moved so that she could face him. She crouched in front of his chair, her hands resting lightly on his knees. "I didn't mean just this," she said very gently. "I think you've been in pain longer than the oldest person alive ever lived. I could feel it from the moment I found you again. I want to make it go away, or at least lessen it."
Angel looked away from her without comment.
"I read the prophecy while you were gone," Buffy continued. "I read about how some day you're supposed to become human. What in that – in me finding it, whatever – upset you so much?"
Angel faced her abruptly with a snarl, his eyes flashing yellow with emotion before returning to brown. "How can you ask me that?" he hissed around his fangs.
"I asked because I was worried about you!" Buffy explained. "When you ran out of here like that I was afraid you wouldn't be back!"
"And that would bother you?"
"Yes, it would bother me!" she said, aghast that he would think otherwise. "You're my friend, Angel. You're the only one left."
"So better the monster you know than the humans you don't," Angel muttered sarcastically.
He obviously did not mean for her to hear that. "You're not a monster," she said vehemently.
"Then what am I?" Angel retorted. "I'm sure as hell not human!"
"But you could be!" Buffy cried, remembering the prophecy.
Angel nearly glared at her. "With this face?" he growled. "With these hands? There's no place for me among humans anymore."
The finality in his voice infuriated her. "Fine!" she declared, standing up. "You think you're a monster, do you? Well then, I guess you are what you think you are! I mean, look at Faith. She killed a man and thought she was evil, so guess what? She became evil!"
"Buffy…."
Buffy kept right on going. "So go ahead and be a monster," she said. "I mean, you think you are one and that you look like one. How far from there to being one? I mean, all you have to do is start killing people again and you'd definitely fit the part!"
Angel flinched.
Buffy crouched at his feet again, calmly meeting his pained gaze. "But you know what I see instead?" she asked gently. "I see a friend in pain. I see someone who has tried to suppress parts of himself for so long that it hurts just to be. You are one of the most human beings I have ever met.
"No monster would have rescued me from those demons," she went on. "No monster would care like you do. They wouldn't go on fighting, even when it seems senseless and the possibility of reward seems gone. You're not a monster. When I asked about you that first night at The Underground, the bar tender made a point of telling me you're a good man. I see that. He sees that and he doesn't even know you. Why can't you see the same thing?"
Angel was silent.
Buffy took a deep breath and ran a gentle hand across his brow. He closed his eyes at her touch. "You may not look human here," she said, "but you'll always be human here." She placed her hand over his heart with that last phrase, then stood again and withdrew from him slightly. She swallowed. "You lost a lot of blood," she said, changing the subject. "You should eat something."
Angel blinked at her oddly and hesitated.
"What?"
"There isn't any. The blood…."
Memory image: cold box of blood spilled in the midst of battle. "You haven't fed in four days?!"
Angel shrugged. "I don't need much."
Buffy shot him a 'don't be ridiculous' look. "Clean up, get a new shirt on, and let's go."
"Where…?"
Buffy smiled reassuringly. "To ask your supplier for an advance," she
explained. She had more plans than that, though. Angel was finally talking
to her. He needed convincing as to his own potential for humanity? Then
it was about time he started talking with some other members of the human
race.
"Front door," Buffy had said. No problem, right?
Yeah, right.
Next to him, Buffy was as strong and confident as ever. She was trying to be confident enough for both of them. When his footsteps would slow, she would smile at him and lightly touch his arm, moving him inexorably forward.
The reaction when they entered the seedy bar wasn't what Angel expected. More specifically, there wasn't a reaction. Buffy and Angel were noticed, but that was it. No one looked at them twice.
Angel's confusion must have shown on his face, because Buffy suddenly chuckled.
"You should have seen the blue slimy guy that was here on my first visit," she said just loud enough to be heard. "I'm sorry for the janitor." Then, a bit more seriously, "I've learned one major thing since I arrived here. There aren't many – at least, down here – that don't know about the existence of demons."
She drew him then over to the bar and grabbed a stool for each of them. "Hey!" she called to get the bar tender's attention.
He smiled when he saw her. "Hey, Slayer! Back again so soon?"
Buffy smiled back. "I'm here, aren't I? You know, I never did get your name."
"Richard," the bar tender replied. "You going to introduce me to your friend?"
"You know my friend," she said, placing a hand on Angel's shoulder.
Angel glanced at the bar tender. He'd been watching the mass of people around them pretty much since they got there, both fascinated and overwhelmed. Now he met the bar tender's shocked gaze and dropped his eyes almost immediately. Buffy's second directive – "speak" – was suddenly an impossibility.
Buffy squeezed his shoulder slightly before releasing it. "I got him to come in through the front door this time," she teased.
Richard swallowed audibly. "Well," he said, "what can I get you then?"
"Same as last time," she replied.
"The drink or the information?"
Buffy chuckled. "The drink." There was a pause. "Angel?" Buffy prompted.
"Bloody Mary," he muttered sarcastically. He was rethinking a bit too late the idea of coming to a room full of humans when he was hungry. He'd never attack anyone, but he was not comfortable.
The bar tender chuckled, and he could feel Buffy grin. It had been a rather juvenile joke, perhaps, but it was something.
"Actually," Buffy said before Richard could fill their drink orders, "that's why we're here."
He looked at her oddly. "What is?"
Now Buffy seemed a little nervous herself. "We…ran into a little accident after we left here last time," she explained. "The cold box was lost in the process and never made it home. We're having a…food shortage as a result."
Richard looked back and forth between them. "It'll take a couple of days," he began.
"Come on," Buffy pressed. "You don't even have a little something to tide us over?"
"Why would I have that?"
"You do serve demons here," she pointed out.
"I serve neutral demons," he clarified. "Blood drinkers aren't typically neutral." He glanced at Angel. "No offense," he added.
Angel just nodded.
Richard sighed. "Look, I…might have something in the back. It won't be very good quality, and I don't want you spreading the word that I'm doing this."
"Anything you can do would be wonderful," Buffy said sincerely.
Richard just frowned at her and disappeared behind the bar. About a minute later he returned with a drink in each hand; clear alcohol for Buffy, and for Angel…. "Your Bloody Mary," the bar tender said with a smirk.
The blood smell hit Angel hard, but he couldn't…. His hand trembled slightly, a centimeter away from the glass. He glanced at Buffy uncertainly.
She smiled at him and raised her glass. "A toast, perhaps?" she suggested to ward off the awkwardness.
Angel lifted his glass towards hers.
"To humanity," she said.
Angel brought his glass to his lips and drank slowly, trying with all his might just to look like any other patron of the bar. The blood did not bring him any pleasure, but it did sate the hunger some, if not the desire.
He lowered the glass at last, completely drained, and noticed the bar tender watching him. "Thank you," Angel said honestly.
Richard smiled back at him. "Any time," he said and moved on to other customers.
Angel could feel Buffy's happiness next to him and turned to see her
smile. Freshly fed and with the hazy sense of uncaring acceptance around
him, Angel allowed himself for the first time to truly smile back.
Just when Buffy thought she had Angel figured out, when it seemed he
was making his way back to the Angel she once fell in love with, he managed
to baffle her. With the crisis of the one group of demons behind them and
Buffy medically forbidden from joining him in hunting others, Angel's mood
seemed to change abruptly. The evening of their joint excursion to The
Underground he had been relaxed and delightful company. When they awoke
the next day, that was gone.
Instead, Angel spent even more time than usual outside, fighting demons. When he was in the lair he spoke to Buffy only briefly and seemed sullen and withdrawn.
He had re-perfected the art of brooding and Buffy hadn't the faintest idea why.
Buffy watched him as she continued organizing the books. After their joint research session she had some idea of what they were, so she could actually make some progress in putting them in their place. Not that she was actually making any progress. She kept getting distracted by Angel.
He wasn't doing anything distracting, really. In fact, he wasn't doing anything at all. He was just sitting in that chair, staring at his hands. Buffy doubted he was actually seeing anything at all.
He'd always been capable of brooding, but this was ridiculous.
Buffy had finally had enough of it. She put the book she was holding on the shelf and walked purposefully over to his chair. "Okay, what's wrong?"
His head snapped up and his eyes went wide with surprise when he faced her. He didn't reply.
"Something has been bothering you since you woke up yesterday," she said. "Please, tell me what it is?"
"Nothing," Angel said briefly, standing. He walked away from her as if to leave.
"Angel…." Buffy pleaded.
He froze in the act of reaching for a weapon. "When will you leave?" he asked softly.
"What…?"
"When will you…?"
"I heard what you said," Buffy interrupted. "I just…. Do you want me to leave?"
Angel's reply was mostly muddled since his back was to her, but Buffy caught the word "inevitable."
"Why do you think it's inevitable?" Buffy asked in surprise. "I mean, I know we haven't always been on the best of terms…."
Angel turned to look at her, and it was his turn to be confused.
Buffy sighed. "Please come back over here. We need to talk. Or, if you don't want to talk, just listen to me for a moment, okay?"
Angel paused only briefly before returning to the chair.
"This is weird for me," Buffy said once he was seated. "It feels like only months since we last saw each other in Sunnydale. I sometimes forget how much longer it has been for you. So while time has dulled those memories for you – hell, it's been long enough I wouldn't be surprised if you've forgotten all together – I can still vividly recall after my mother's funeral, the way we kissed…." Buffy blushed. "Not quite the moment I was going for, here," she said, slightly embarrassed.
Angel smiled sadly.
"The point I meant to make," Buffy continued, "is that I know we don't have the best track record on anything that involves an 'us.' But that's still no reason for you to expect me to leave you…unless you want me to."
Angel shook his head.
"Then what is it?"
"You don't want…" he made a vague, all encompassing gesture, "this."
Buffy looked at him in confusion. "How do you know what I want?" she pointed out. "Or is this like you assuming that someday I wouldn't want you in Sunnydale?"
"You want this?" Angel retorted. "Do you want to wake up every day and have this face be the first thing you see?"
"Yes."
She couldn't tell who was more surprised: him for hearing that or her for saying it.
"Someday, Angel, when I'm old and gray and wrinkly…will you turn away from me?" she asked.
"No!"
"Then why would you expect that of me?"
Angel was silent for a moment. "It's not the same," he tried.
"Isn't it? It's called aging, Angel, either way," Buffy argued. "I'll be an old woman. I never expected to see you as an old vampire, but I'm not going to leave because of it."
Taking a risk and surprising both of them, Buffy abruptly sat on his lap. For a moment neither of them did anything, then Angel placed one of his arms loosely about her waist.
"Is that what this was about?" she asked at last. "Or are you so eager to get rid of my company?"
"I like having you here," Angel admitted.
"Then what is it?"
Angel scowled and stared at his free hand. He flexed it into a fist for a moment. "Before I…changed the first time…. Before the first permanent change I was sore for weeks," he explained haltingly. "I didn't know why at the time. But every time, weeks before…." His voice trailed off.
"What hurts?" Buffy asked in understanding.
"My hands," Angel replied, making a fist once again.
Buffy grasped his fist lightly, then kissed his knuckle.
Angel took a deep, unnecessary breath as if to calm himself. "Can you do this?" he asked slowly. "Can you…not be repulsed when I look less human than I do now? Can you stay even then? Because if your answer is no, you'd better leave now, before…."
"Before what?"
"Before I can't stand living without you again."
Buffy smiled at him. "I'm staying," she said gently.
He looked at her in delighted shock. Buffy found the expression so adorable she just had to do something.
She had to kiss him.
He didn't respond immediately, and Buffy almost pulled away, but then Angel's other arm wrapped around her to hold her closer. Neither of them pulled away for a long moment, not even when Buffy ran her tongue lightly over Angel's fangs. It was hard to believe at that moment that they technically hadn't seen each other in centuries up until three weeks ago.
When Buffy pulled away to look at Angel again, he was grinning. "Thank you," he said sincerely.
Buffy grinned back at him. "No, thank you." She chuckled slightly. "If you keep smiling like that, the curse is going to be an issue well before either of our appearances are."
Angel blanched. "I didn't…. It's been…."
"Hasn't been much of an issue lately, has it?"
Angel shook his head. "I don't want to hurt you," he said earnestly.
"And you won't," Buffy replied. "We'll figure out something."
Angel just nodded, then held her a little tighter. Buffy smiled and leaned into his shoulder. She fit there as comfortably as she always had.
"Buffy?" Angel said a little while later.
"Hmm?"
"Time hasn't dulled the memories that are worth keeping," he said softly.
Buffy just smiled to herself and remembered the best times.
"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…."
"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 later."
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."
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.
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."
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.