STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The Prophecy belongs to Gregory Widen and I'm not making any money from this.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Despite repeatedly e mailing The Powers That Be here on FFN, there is no category for the The Prophecy series of movies. So, I guess I'll post them here.

I'd originally thought to include this scene in Birds of Prey, my fic in progress… but it seems to work better as a stand alone. Hope you enjoy it.

"I need you to fill out this form and then go stand in that line over there," Delores told the sullen young woman who stood before her. "They can help you."

The young woman snatched the form from Delores's fingers, cracked her gum loudly, and skulked off.

"You have a nice day, Ma'am," Delores said under her breath. She turned her attention to her computer, entered some information, and looked up.

A man was standing at the end of the velvet rope maze that kept the citizens of Los Angeles moving through this branch of the Department of Motor Vehicles in a neat, orderly fashion. He was thin and pale, with shiny black hair combed straight back from his forehead and the most piercing blue eyes that Delores had ever seen in her life. He was staring at her expectantly, and she frowned; she was almost certain that he hadn't been there before… but of course, he must have been. After all, people don't just appear out of thin air.

"Next," she called, and he came forward to stand at her window.

"Hi," he said brightly. He pulled something from the pocket of his long black coat and put his hand on the counter, sliding it at her under the glass window. "I need to renew this."

She glanced briefly at the driver's license, then turned to her computer and began typing. "Do you have your renewal notice, sir?"

"No." She stopped typing and looked up at him disapprovingly. "See, here's the thing," he said apologetically. "You folks never sent me one."

"Of course we sent you one," she said, but in the back of her mind she knew he was probably right. The DMV screwed up with remarkable regularity. "All right, look. Is this address – " she picked up his license and read from it. "2634 North Beachwood Drive – is this address still current?"

"Fortunately, no."

She stared at the picture on the license. "This almost doesn't even look like you," she remarked, noting the long graying hair and the disheveled appearance of the man in the photograph.

"Yeah," he agreed, smiling. "I've moved up in the world since then."

"Do you want to get a new picture taken?"

"That would be great."

"All right. You have to fill this out for the change of address," she said, handing him a form and pointing to a table where he could sit. "And be sure to put down a date of birth," she instructed, sliding his license under the glass. "I don't know how they let you go last time without one."

He shrugged. "That other woman… you know, here at the Department of Motor Vehicles… she told me not to bother her on her coffee break," he said, taking his license and putting it back in his coat pocket.

She snorted. "Typical."

"I bring this back to you when I'm done?" he asked, holding up the form.


"OK, thanks."

He was back less than five minutes later, sliding his form under the glass.

"All right, let me see that," she said, picking it up. She read it, frowning. "What's this you wrote for date of birth? March 24… in where?"

"In Eternity," he replied with a little shrug, as though it were the most normal thing in the world.

She read further, her frown deepening. "And you live where?"

"In the Seventh Heaven," he said in the same tone.

She looked up at him. "Are you on drugs?"

He looked surprised. "No, Ma'am."

"I can't put this kind of information on a driver's license," she told him, and handed him another form. "Write something sensible. Then you'll need to pass a vision test and give us a thumbprint."

"I don't have one," he told her seriously.

"You don't have one what?"

"A thumbprint," he said, holding up his hands. "Or fingerprints." He shrugged apologetically. "Sorry."

"Sir, they don't pay me enough to deal with this. Now go fill out that form and bring it back to me."

He pointed at the form he had already filled out. "That form," he said, his tone becoming slightly heated, " is perfectly correct… Delores."

"Oh, really?" she asked snidely. "So where's the Seventh Heaven, exactly? Is it downtown, or – "

"Listen," he said in a low voice, resting his hands on the counter and leaning forward so that his lips almost touched the glass that separated them. "I'm an angel… and I'm not just any angel, either. I'm Gabriel. I sit at the left hand of God. I've turned rivers into blood, cities into ash, women into pillars of salt. One day – maybe one day real soon – I'll blow my trumpet to announce the second coming of Christ on Earth. And all I want from you, Delores, is for you to renew my driver's license!"

She met his gaze for a few seconds, staring up into those inscrutable blue eyes.

"OK," she said, nodding. "You're the angel Gabriel. I get it." She put her hand on her phone, preparing to call for security to escort this obviously crazy guy to an appropriate mental health facility. "You just wait right over there," she said, pointing with her other hand at a row of chairs, "and some nice men will be in to get you your new – "

"Delores," he whispered. "Look at me."

It was impossible to disobey. The air around the man – Gabriel – seemed to change, becoming suffused with a milky white light. Delores could see the suggestion of enormous white wings rising up behind him.

"Dear God," she whispered. Without even thinking about it, she crossed herself. She glanced around and saw that no one else in the room – neither her coworkers nor the people waiting to do business with the DMV – seemed to notice anything amiss. Was she hallucinating?

"It's no hallucination," he assured her quietly. "This is what I am." The light faded and the wings vanished… but Delores knew they were still there; she just couldn't see them now.

She leaned forward in her seat. "Let me get this straight. You're Gabriel… the Gabriel… the one from the Bible," she said quietly.


"But… I don't… why in the world do you need a driver's license?"

"Aaaah, I went to so much trouble to get it… I figured I might as well keep renewing it."

Delores was still trying to figure this out. "But… can't you fly?" she asked, realizing as she spoke how insane the question sounded.

"Yeah," he said, and shrugged. "It's overrated. Driving's a lot more fun." He smiled proudly. "I'm the only angel who knows how."

"Well… good for you," she said numbly. She picked up his form. "I guess… all right, I'll take care of this. You go stand in that line over there to get your eyes tested." Let them deal with you, she thought but did not say.

"Thank you, Delores," he said, beaming happily.

"OK," Fred said tiredly. "Cover your right eye and read the smallest line you can see."

"XMLQFP," the man with the pale skin and shiny black hair read.

Fred frowned. "What line are you reading, sir?"

"The bottom one," he said, uncovering his eye. "Did I pass?"

Fred squinted at the eye chart. "Well, I'll be damned."

"Not yet," the man said. "But if you keep cheating on your taxes and running around on your wife…" He shrugged.


"Never mind. What line do I go stand in now?"

"Here you go… um… sir," Delores said, sliding his new license under the glass. "That's a much nicer picture."

"I think so too," Gabriel said, scrutinizing it. "Much more flattering."

"Listen, next time you need your license renewed… come on Tuesday. That's my day off!"

He nodded, smiling. "OK. And Delores… thanks."

"Don't mention it… to anyone!"

"Hey Delores," her supervisor called.

"What, Bob?" she asked. She turned in her seat to see him walking towards her, a piece of paper in his hand.

"What's with this Gabriel person's renewal? I can't believe you approved – "

"He's right here," she said. "If you have any questions, you can ask – " But when she turned back to face the window, he was gone as if he'd never existed at all. "Perfect. That's just perfect."

"And you didn't get his thumbprint – "

"Listen, Bob… it's been a really long morning," she told him wearily. She opened her bottom desk drawer and took out her purse. "I'm going to lunch," she said, standing and looking at her watch "And then I'm going to Mass. So I might be a little bit late."

"You're going to Mass?" he asked, perplexed. "I didn't know you were that religious!"

"Today I am!"

"But about this Gabriel guy – "

"I can't hear you!" Delores said, sticking her fingers in her ears. "La la la la, I can't hear you!"

"Delores – "

"If he comes back, Bob, you can deal with him!" She grinned wickedly. "I'll save a spot for you in church!"