...Of Things to Come
By Niamhgold at niamhgold@hotmail.com
Well, the good thing about wiping out my old page and reposting everything
is the fact that I get to put all of my stories in order, and do some editing.
I even changed the title of one story. Anyways, thanks to those of you
who've been reading and writing, because it's really appreciated, and I love
E-mail.
For those of you who haven't read this story already, this my first
foray into fanfic, my first installment of my series, and just an opener.
Its main purpose is to "set the stage," if you will. In the future, the
stories will get more nitty-gritty into the characters' personal lives. (And
for you E & G fanatics, that plot thread will be coming along shortly!) It's
set to occur perhaps a few weeks since the incident at Saint Damien's Cathedral,
and in my universe, well, it would have come out sometime in Decemeber of
'98.
DISCLAIMER: Gargoyles and all gargoyles characters herein belong
to Disney and Buena Vista, and their shows like Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The
Goliath Chronicles, they do not belong to me and I am not making one
cent off this fanfic--the mentioning of the Disney company and Donald duck
herein are also property of Disney, and are in no way being exploited for my
personal benefit. I just loved the show and wanted to show it! All other
characters unaffiliated with Disney or Buena Vista are mine. Let the show
begin!
=========================
PREVIOUSLY, ON _GARGOYLES_:
Goliath: "This island--Manhattan--is our castle. From this day forward,
we will protect all who live here, human and gargoyle alike."
___*** REAWAKENING ***___
Angela: (Looks skeptically towards Raven). "If they mean you harm, why do
you protect the humans?"
Goliath: "Gargoyles protect with honor, Angela. It is our heritage,
regardless of how we are treated."
**
Goliath: "What humans do not understand, they fear. And what they fear,
they often seek to destroy."
___*** HERITAGE ***___
Jon Carter: "Urban myths no longer, these creatrures launched a completely
unprovoked attack upon our city's finest."
Owen: "Obviously, the Gargoyles did not destroy their own
clocktower."
Fox: "Maybe not, but everyone is going to think they did. The
whole _city_ will be hunting them now."
Hudson: "We cannot abandon ouir home."
Goliath: "Our home is no more, Hudson. This time in our lives is over..."
Brooklyn: "And so it begins--Gargoyles, chapter two. Or is it three? I've
lost count."
___*** HUNTER'S MOON, PART III ***___
And, Finally...
* * * * * * * * * *
--- ...OF THINGS TO COME ---
The cold, early-November wind swept across the city, dancing in a
whistling rhythm from rooftop to rooftop. The commuters, who had decided to
trek the city by foot, nervously glanced skyward from time to time, save the
tourists. They had not been in New York City during the week of the bombing,
and had not yet read the insinuating newspapers or listened to the insistent
bantering of the News and television broadcasts associated with the peculiar
events of that October's Hunter's Moon. And those visitors that had, merely
brushed thme off with a chuckle, thinking the reports just another
extravagance of the Big Apple. But, if these tourists would stay around
long enough, they would know the truth. And, like the permanent residents,
cower in fear of it.
These locals take extra precautions now against the
threat of an invasion by winged monsters. The number of guns being sold
on the street increased nearly three-fold, and the merchants of Brink's
Security Systems had never seen so many orders flow in. Children and
teenagers who had grown quite fond of roaming their mother city during
the later hours were plagued by persistently enforced curfews. And when
it became a necessity for some people to venture out to the stores after
dark, they traveled in tighlty packed groups, happily embracing the notion
that there is safety in numbers.
There were rumors going around that the District Attorney was
trying to get the gargoyles ranked as one of the top twenty menaces in
Manhattan. Many supported this propostion, and even those that didn't,
hadn't yet tried to oppose it. Other rumors, unconnected to Proposal 587,
were racing through the city like wildfire since the incident at Saint
Damien's Cathedral. This gossip stated that gargoyles had been responsible
for many previous incidents--stealing house pets, breaking into apartments
via the rooftops to search for food and humans, unprovoked destruction of
cars, personal property, and other such exaggerations. Charges that had
been filed in the police stations up to two months earlier were retracted,
then resubmitted, but this time the blame shifted to the Winged Scourge.
And, indeed, the Gargoyle issue became a one sided, highly political issue.
All who had been exposed to the fear and panic provoked by the appearances
of these "urban myths" were, on some level or another, turned against the
gargoyles. There were a minute percentage that had decided to be supporters
of these creatures, and another percent was undecided.
*****************************************************************************
In an apartment complex opposite the Eyrie Building, a young aunt
was tucking in her two nieces for bed. They were reluctant, and one blond,
pig-tailed runt did not want to lay down.
"It's too early," she whined, puffing out her cheeks in a
five-year-old pout. "I want to watch cartoons."
Their twenty-something babysitter sighed. "No more cartoons, Nina.
Now go to bed, unless you want those evil gargoyles to get you..." she
taunted with a waving finger.
The two girls looked at each other with pure shock and horror, and then
buried themselves in their covers.
The aunt closed the door and collapsed on the couch in the living room.
She had just started to nod off when the window, pushed by the wind, creaked.
The burnette jumped up and shrieked, then settled back down in
embarrassment as she realized that no demon had flown into her room.
"Just the wind," she assured herself, but, with a second thought, walked up
to the window and latched it tightly.
*****************************************************************************
...However, in a place far separated from the city, high above the clouds in
a fairy-tale like fashion, eleven inhabitants knew the truth. One was a
megalomaniac multibillionaire, who was known for accepting the most
unbelievable stories in life. The second was pure trickster in a rigid
mortal's guise, whose human features betrayed no inner emotion, but whose
Fey soul was dancing in delight at the curious turn Fate had taken. Two
others, mother and son, were part human and part fey, the son more able in
magical ability than the mother, thanks to the aid of Puck.
There was another, one who didn't reside here. This female detective
had known the truth from the beginning, and had accepted it with an open heart.
She was not but a normal human, or as normal as humans could come, with
the company she kept. But, her life is yet another story.
The remaining seven were the ones accused of the recent tension
bubbling up throughout the city. In the day, for those that made a visit to
the topmost floor of the Eyrie Building, they were not but seven intricately
carved statues perched in the most varying of poses. Harmless, really,
but many a human would give their right arm to smash them in their sleeping
state. But then those murderers would never hear the desperate pleas of
these creatures, who, if one listened to open-mindedly enough, could convince
one that they're innocent of their charges.
And, if one would pay attention to the details, they would see that
these beings did not have eight eyes, that they did not have six rows of
fangs, that they did not survive soley on the instinct to kill and the
gift of intelligence, as the ground-dwellers would have you believe.
People would discover that these were sentient creatures, who were a
great deal more noble than our own race.
****************************************************************************
Xanatos had his arms crossed behind his back and was looking out an
arched window when Owen walked in with a tray of coffee.
"Mrs. Xanatos will be joining you shortly, sir," the servant stated
blandly. Xanatos remained staring out into the night, with that same old
smirk on his face. "Is there something the matter, sir?"
The Greek multibillionaire turned on his heels and sat down at the
comfortable sofa-table, steepling his fingers. Through the window
backgrounding Xanatos, Owen could make out the silhouttes of six gargoyles
gliding off, supposedly on patrol. "Sir?" Burnett repeated.
Xanatos finally spoke. "It's just odd to see how much has changed,
since last year's standing." Something twinkled in the entrepreneur's eyes.
"To think, after all that feuding, they're living in the same building as me!"
"Indeed, sir," Owen commented. "There even seems to be a trust
formimg between some clan members and yourself..."
Xanatos chuckled deeply at that remark. "Some of them I predicted
would, like Angela, Hudson, and Bronx. Broadway and Brooklyn are, as you know,
too busy settling their 'undefined' dispute, and Lexington is a little
hesistant. Goliath is a bit more agreeable to this alliance than I figured,
but Detective Maza, on the other hand...is not going to come around for a
while yet."
Both paused in their conversation as the door to the living room opened,
and a smoldering Fox walked in.
Owen smiled at her (as well as a Burnett could smile). "Good evening,
Mrs. Xanatos."
"Don't you 'good evening' me," Fox harumphed, then turned to her
husband. "David, do you have any idea what that man's been teaching our
son?!"
Xanatos, despite his wife's seriousness, grinned as Owen tried to
escort her to a seat. "No, I don't, but I'd be glad to listen." He winked
in his manservant's general direction.
In response, Owen stiffened and spoke before Fox had a chance to.
"Apparently, Mrs. Xanatos was trying to bathe young Alexander and he..."
he paused, looking at Mrs. Xanatos warily. "...transformed himself into
a goldfish. Thankfully, I was there to help the child reverse the spell."
"Thankfully...!" Fox started, but Xanatos held up his hand.
"The reversion is much appreciated, Owen," David said through a
chuckle, as his wife crossed her arms. He shook his head and then asked,
"Speaking of Alex, where is he?"
Fox smiled, her anger from earlier fading as he brought up one of her
favorite subjects. "He's playing with Lex up in the living room." she
paused. "I hope their not watching the news again. I think it depresses
Alex, on some level."
"Exactly what is on about our live-ins _this_ time?"
"Well, you know Goliath...he still insists that they patrol during the
night to 'protect the city.' So now there are hundreds of reports of
gargoyle sightings, and they're being manifested into attacks and robberies."
*****************************************************************************
Broadway secretly glared at Brooklyn from the rear of the patrol V.
The beaked creep was in the lead with Angela, and was doing his best to "put
the moves on her." Things between the two rookery brothers had been tense
like this, and despite Angela's persistence at saying she liked both of them,
he and Brooklyn still hadn't stopped their courtship antics.
And the recent attitude that had developed ominously throughout the
humans of the city was not helping the terseness of the situation.
Broadway looked concentrated on the buildings passing below him, as
not to see his brother's smugness at being able to fly with the eligible
female of the clan. By doing so, he noticed three little figures in black
breaking through the side window of a small shop.
"Hey!" he called up to the front, not too disappointed at having to
interrupt Brooklyn's cozy conversation with Goliath's daughter. "We've got
some action down there!" He pointed a claw towards the little shoop, which
was without the benefit of a burglar alarm.
Brooklyn raised his browridge for a moment, then pinned up his wings
and dove towards the crime scene. "Let's go!" he called up to his still
air-borne compatriots as he landed on the victim edifice.
"Ladies first," Broadway offered Angela humbly. She smiled at him and then
followed Brooklyn's descent, and was tagged closely by Broadway. When the
two landed, they found Brooklyn had already discovered the ceiling vent,
and was yanking it wide open. Without a cautious thought, the red-beaked
gargoyle jumped down into the shop, urging Angela with him.
Seeing Broadway's more cautious entrance, Brooklyn whispered, "Come
on, we've got to do this before they have a chance to escape!"
Before Broadway could make a rebbutal, there was a sharp inhalation of
breath from behind all three gargoyles. Brooklyn and Angela shot around to
see that one of the probable felons had discovered them. Thankfully, the man
in black was momentarily stunned by the sight of these garogyles, giving
Broadway a chance to lunge.
But the criminal was also very fast, and he whipped out a small
pistol. Seeing the weapon (and with Braodway's _great_ affintiy for guns),
the aquamarine gargoyle's eyes burst into blazing sockets seconds before his
tail shot out and knocked the firearm from the man's hand. However, when it
hit the floor, the trigger snapped and a bullet shattered one of the ceiling
lights, making enough noise to signal the other two intruders. Both rounded
the corner of the aisle just as Broadway was lifting the first prowler up by
his shirt collar.
"Holy shit!! A gargoyle's got Andy!" one swore loudly. He snapped
open a switchblade and tried unsuccessfully to brandish it with a steady hand.
"Well, at least we're being _advertised_," Brooklyn snarled, as he
launched himself at the human.
But the kid rolled out of the way at the last minute, much to the
beaked creature's dismay. Brooklyn hit the shelf behind the perpetrator with
a crunch, and all the contents, which included finely crafted jewelry, came
crashing down on top of him.
Angela heard the crash and quickly caught up to the human who had
escaped Brooklyn's attempt. She hefted the kid to eye level as she growled
menacingly, and he pleaded for her not to hurt him.
"Pathetic," was how she responded, and then handed the kid to Broadway,
who had devised a clever pair of handcuffs from the store's merchandise.
"Brooklyn," she said as she kneeled down beside him. "Are you okay?"
Seeing Broadway scowl, Brooklyn started to make a response for Angela's
sympathy--up until the point that he heard the sound of footfalls moving
farther from them. "Oh, damn," he said instead.
"What?" Angela inquired, helping him up.
"Weren't there _three_ of those twerps?" he growled, pointing to the
mere _two_ bound on the floor, and struggling.
Angela turned and exchanged a look with Broadway, and then all three
were running after the third intruder.
* * * * * * * * *
Stupid, stupid, stupid!!!!
Reuben quickened his pace towards the small jewelry shop, shivering
more from the notion of how he was going to be punished than from the cold.
Father had entrusted him with the honor of the family business, and he had
messed up on the first day! How stupid of him, to leave the money still in
the cash register! He was a shame to the family, to their time-honored
tradition.
At least he'd be home quickly enough, as soon as he fixed his
mistakes, and then he could just skip the part about forgetting the money
and say he got held up in the subway station. Maybe...
As he approached the little shop, the sixteen year-old heard a
loud crash and an inhuman howl resound from within.
"What..." he started, and then quickly hurried to find his key. If
there were robbers, he'd much rather deal with them himself than have to
deal with his father's lecture on the un-ideal attetntion the police might
bring to their already-suffering boutique.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Angela!!" Brooklyn and Broadway exclaimed at the same time. "Did
he get you?"
Angela got up from where she had fallen and shook her head. "No, he
just surprised me." Her head swiveled as she searched for the kid who had
drawn the gun on her. "He's gone," she concluded with a sigh.
There was a scuffling noise from the front of the shop. "Shhh!"
Brooklyn demanded, listening. "That might be him!"
The three gargoyles skidded into the front room. Their two captives
were nowhere in sight, and neither was the third. A pile of loose
bindings explianed it all.
"Uh, I guess they got away," Broadway observed, shying back.
"Oh, just great," Brooklyn huffed. He motioned a thumb at Broadway.
"The Boy Scout flunkey over here can't even make his homemade handuffs right."
Angela sighed, and began to lift a fallen shelf. "Come on, you guys.
The least we can do is clean up." Brooklyn nodded, and, pushing ahead of
Broadway, started to help the female.
Right at that moment, the front door swung open and the lights clicked on.
A dark skinned teenager stood at the door, twin curls on either side of
his face swinging as he stopped short. Surprised by this unexpected visitor,
Angela and Brooklyn dropped the shelf, and it splitnered upon hitting the
floor.
"Monsters!" the boy shrieked, then, seeing the trio's hesistation to
attack, picked up a broom from beside the door and came at them with it.
Broadway stepped up and offered, "Look, sir, we'll help you clean
it--"
"Get back!" the kid ordered, swatting Broadway with the handle. "You
devils! Get out of my shop! GET OUT!"
"Well, you heard the man," Brooklyn said simply, and then he, Angela,
and Broadway jumped ou the broken window and fled into the night.
"The devils!" Reuben exclaimed. His shaking hands released the broom
and it clattered to the floor. He took a moment to take stock. The
damage wasn't too bad, he started to think, until he found the cash register
completely empty.
*****************************************************************************
He helped the woman up, who was shaking badly from her recent encounter.
Tears poured down her face as she clutched her newly-torn clothing to her
body. "It was those gargoyles, I'm telling you! They came flying in and
tried to kill that man! If you hadn't shown up, there's no telling what they
might have down to me after they got through with him!"
Morgan looked skeptically towards the woman who had been tagging alongside
him since he had arrived, then to the suspected rapist who was making the
same claims on the other side of the crowd. His eyes narrowed at the
television crews who had set up right beside the crime scene.
"Well, ma'am, if you come with us, you can file a report at the
precinct," he offered kindly, escorting her to his squad car. She started
to protest the point, when a reporter intercepted their path.
Great. Travis Marshall.
"Officer...Morgan," the tabloid employee started, reading the name
off the front of the policeman's uniform. "Can you please tell us what
happened out here? Were the gargoyles to blame? Did they assault this
young woman?"
"Sorry," Morgan said, raising his hand to the camera. "Public
relations isn't my department."
Travis looked mildly peeved. He did not notice the young victim
staring at her suspected rapist, who was arguing with city officials. That
is, until she said, "Why ask him? I'm the one who witnessed it all."
Marshall swept over towards her, drawing a stream of other interested
reporters. "You say you saw what those gargoyles did, did you?"
She took a deep breath. "Yes, I did. And I can set this whole thing
straight..."
Morgan shook his head as the young woman was enclosed in a circle of
news-seekers. His partner came over to him, also leaving behind a group
of non-plussed crewmen. "Ready to leave, partner?" Kincaid asked. "We
just got a call to report to a robbery on 54th and 2nd."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"...Everyone things that the man was trying something, but that
just isn't true. We were just minding our own business when those monsters
flew in and attacked! Thankfully, the police came along, and those sirens
seemed to scare them away."
"What about that other witness...that man? Are you sure he wasn't
trying to hurt you?" One female reporter asked, altough her aim was more
towards Women's Rights than the defense of the gargoyles.
The young woman looked pale for a moment, and then shrugged. "I've
never seen that man in my entire life. Neither of us had any time to even
speak to each other before those creatures came out of nowhere! They're
monsters, I tell you!"
*****************
Lexington furrowed his brow, and, at the aggravated border-of-crying
noises from Alex, changed the channel to Disney. Alex immediately perked up
and he reached his pudgy arms toward the screen.
"Okay, there, kiddo," Lex chuckled as he settled the Xanatos's baby
into the deluxe, no-doubt-cost-a-million-dolalrs playpen. He didn't want
the little tyke to transform himself into a Donald Duck or anything.
Lexington sighed. He was getting _really_ close to the kid of the Leader of
the Pack. Or the old leader, at least.
Things had changed. If he had been in charge of the clan, he would have
never moved back in with Xanatos and his wife. It was Fox, after all, who
had once tricked him into drawing Goliath into a trap.
But, maybe that was why he wasn't in charge. Goliath had a big grudge
against Xanatos, but had agreed to move in with him, despite their falling
out the fateful night that Demona had returned. For the clan's sake,
Goliath had explained.
And, Lexington thought ruefully, he was right. Xanatos's place was probably
the safest to be, especially when he took into account that news broadcast.
_Everyone_ was hunting them now.
"Laddie, 'tis not yuir fault. 'Tis the fact that the whole city is
ready to go up in flame at the sight of ye."
Lex turned, watching as Goliath and Hudson stepped into the television room.
Bronx, who had been napping leaisurely in the corner, sniffed at the scent
of Hudson's arrival and bounced to his feet, then plowed into the old
gargoyle.
"Ach, good te see ye, too, boy," Hudson grunted as he tried to push
three hundred pounds of garg-dog off him. He extended and clenched his
fingers a few times, teeth baring as he did so, then shrugged his head to see
if anyone had noticed.
But Lexington was concentrating on Goliath. "How was patrol?" he asked the
clan leader.
The lavender gargoyle sighed deeply, staring at some crack on the wall. Not
a good sign. "Not as I had hoped, after weeks of serving this city. We aided
a young woman who was being...mugged, and she made us out to be the villains."
Lexignton scratched the back of his head in that nervous little habit he had.
"Then maybe we could stay in...for awhile. Let people cool down..."
"_NO_," Golaith shot, then, more calmly, "No. We cannot deny our nature. I
know we can make this city understand, after time." Hudson nodded his
agreement. Goliath looked around, eager to change the subject. "Have
Angela, Brooklyn, or Broadway returned yet?"
"Nope. They should be back anytime, though," Lex answered, trying to hide a
smile. He was trying to supress a rather amusing memory from earlier that
night, when Broadway and Brooklyn had tried to decide which one was better
than the toher when it came to landing--just to impress Angela. Neither of
them had gotten past the first round before an argument had erupted.
Lexignton silently thanked himself for not taking part in that foolish event.
Before Golaith could reply, the doors opened to reveal Fox and David Xanatos,
and Lex immediately put himself on guard. The two walked side by side, as
cool as could be, and Fox left her husband's side to move over to the crib.
Goliath and Xanatos moved out into the Great Hall.
Lexington beat Fox to the crib and retrieved her sleeping baby. Fox watched
in interest as the web-winged gargoyle runt scooped up Alex and handed him
over to his mother.
"When he's sleeping, he looks too innocent to be the same kid who transformed
himself into a fish," she mumbled dryly, gathering the bundle of blankets
and baby into her arms. Lexington cringed when she twirled a golden curl
of Alex's hair around her forefinger.
In his efforts to hide his discomfort, he said, "Well, he might look innocent
now, but I wouldn't suggest giving him a bath without Owen around for
awhile."
Fox peeked over her son to look at him, and smiled--he wasn't sure if it
was sincere, because she was just as tricky as her snake-of-a-husband.
"Trust me, Lex." He cringed again when she used his nickname. "If he's
going to turn into anyhting, it's going to be dignified."
"Yeah, dignified, just like his parents," he snorted, on reflex.
She heard him, and, although her lip curled, she kept her cool. Fox suavely
began to exit the room, motionieng for him to follow, and Lexington, who felt
as though he had some sort of obligation, did.
"Well, you two seem to be getting along--does that have anything to do with
how Owen solved the Coldstone dilemma?" She finally said, after a pause.
Lexington only stroked Alex's hair, not meeting her eyes. "Maybe. But it's
all up to his parents, though, how close we get," he repliled with an
insinuating glance towards Xanatos, who was speaking with Goliath.
The red-haired ex-pa just raised an eyebrow. "I don't have anything
against gargoyles, Lexington. After all, we _are_ living in the same
household now, so that should settle any...doubts. So why don't we just
be pals, okay?"
Lexington almost laughed at how similar her offer was to the offer at their
first meeting--and that hadn't turned out so well. "You tricked me, not too
long ago..." he started, the memories vivid. "But for Alex, I'll try. He
deserves that chance...and you might, too."
That seemed to be enough for her taste, and she began to leave to put Alex
to bed. The baby gurgled something to Lex before Fox could disappear, and
the olive-green gargoyle smiled and waved a talon at the kid. "Goodnight,
Alex."
Fox carried the child away, and, seeing that her husband was still talking
with Goliath, she went to the elevator. "Goodnight, Lexington," she said
almost earneslty enough for his liking, and with a sharp smile. The
elevator doors shut quickly, but the image still lingered in Lex's mind.
He turned back to his laptop and shook his head.
Too weird.
******************
Goliath crossed his arms as he and Xanatos watched Fox exit. She had been
quite determined to talk with Lexington, despote how unfruitful the
conversation had turned out to be.
"It looks like Fox is making some progress," Xanatos commented, raising an
eyebrow at the towering gargoyle.
Goliath took a deep breath. "Perhaps, and perhaps not. Old wounds do not
heal that easily." He looked down intently at the once-evil billionaire.
"But they can be forgiven. I'm not here to trick you, Goliath, though the
old times were a bit...diverting. There are alternatives to harrassing your
clan, and I assure you that I'll turn to those instead," he stated as he
held out his hand, smiling daringly. "And the future is not written yet."
Goliath looked down at that hand, like he had when they had first met. "If
we had not saved your child, then I would not believe a word you are saying."
Seeing Xanatos draw back a bit, he added, "But we did. And since we are in
danger now, I will accept these terms--for the good of the clan, and for the
good of you family."
"You drive a hard bargian, Goliath," Xanatos said as they shook. "Maybe
trust will come into play later." With that, the Armani-clad human left
him.
Goliath's brow ridges furrowed. "We will see."
****************************************************************************
"Brendan, can't you walk any faster?" Margot harassed as she and her
husband scurried down the sidewalk. She was trying to pin up her short blond
hair and put on her lipstick at the same time.
"Margot, we wouldn't be in such a hurry if you had just let me call a
taxi," he shot back as he ran to keep up with her.
"Oh, of course, Brendan. The _last_ time we took an automobile, we
were attacked by monsters!" She huffed and gave up on her hair.
Brendan didn't argue any further, and instead pocketed his hands and
walked in smoldering frustration behind his wife. She, on the other hand,
continued her bantering.
"And couldn't you have worn something more...formal? I spent half of
last week's paycheck on a new suit for you, and you wear that...brown thing
with the loafers! How am I supposed to appear at this meeting with you dressed
like this? My boss is going to have a fit! And the media..."
"Out of the way!" a dingy man in a jean outfit interrupted as he stumbled
out from an adjacent alley. He skidded and slipped on an area of frozen
gutter runoff, fell, and, as he reached out for a hold, brought down Margot in
the process. Dollar bills, sporting many different denominations, flew from
his jacket.
"Please, miss!" The jeaned man, dirty face pale with fear and something
unidentifiable, grabbed onto the scarf around her neck. "Youse gots to help
me! I didn't do anythin'! It was _Them_!"
"What on Earth are you talking about, man?"
But before there could be a reply, a loud roar burst forth from the
same alley from which the crazed man had appeared. Margot clambered backwards,
in a crablike position, as three masive figures emerged from the darkness.
Brendan, who had been watching the whole scene, slid discreetly behind a street
lamp.
The dingy man choked on a scream and tried to unsheathe a weapon from
the insides of his jacket. "Youse gots nothin' on me!" he yelled at the trio
of beasts, and then, unexpectedly made a run for it.
"He's getting away!" a sickly purple female cried to her followers,
and Brendan could just make out from his position her ruby-flaming eyes.
A big blue male, in repsonse to the female's cry, picked up a huge
trash can and charged from the alley depths, a growl exploding from his throat.
"Margot!" Brendan yelled from his safe haven, as he realized that his
life partner was in the path of this defensive creature. In response, she
jumped to her feet.
Unfortunately, this sudden movement on Margot's part deterred the blue
one from its path, and he stumbled. The huge trash can it was carrying slammed
down on his poor wife, knocking her back several feet and dousing her in last
week's stink. She let out a wail of disgust, and, for all she was worth,
effectively kicked the big oaf in the shins with her three-inch high-heels.
Brendan, even in the midst of all this confusion, managed a chuckle.
The blue one growled again, pushing the blond nuisance out of his way
hard enough to send her rolling straight to Brendan. Her husband quickly kneeled
down to aid her, knowing that if he didn't, he was sure going to hear it
later.
"Nice going, Broadway!" a red male, with his arms crossed, hissed from
behind the others. In the next moment, he spread a pair of brick red wings
and bulleted towards the escaping man, who had not managed to get too far.
The man, being plucked up from the ground, cried out horribly and let loose
some undiscernable babble.
Brendan watched his wife's face morph into an expression of complete
shock as the red one scaled a nearby building, with the now-kicking man slung
over his back. The two others followed suit, spreading their own bat wings.
The jeaned man howled from the grasp of the beaked one's arms as the three
creatures dove off the roof, gliding into the darkness.
After a quiet moment, during which Brendan began to look suspiciously
at the pile of money that had escaped the captive man, he said, "Well, at least
that's over.
Margot looked down on herself and mumbled darkly. "Oh, and like you
were such a great help back here, Brendan! How could you just stand there
gawking while those monsters attacked me? You're so pathetic!"
"Well, darling, they didn't exactly seem to be threatening--" he
started.
"--Don't call me darling," she interrupted. "You don't deserve to.
Just because you're a coward, you think you can leave me for the dogs. Now
I'm going to be late, and I'm hideous! Guild will never approve of this this!"
He tried to help her clean off the remnants of the trash items from
her custom-tailored skirt suit, but she slapped his hands away.
"Maybe I can make something of this, though," she suddenly thought
outloud. "This could be just the thing for 587...and my promotion! Don't just
stand there, Brendan...call a taxi!"
"Yes, dear." He waved his hand. "Have you got another of _your_
college ideas?"
"Of course I do. I didn't graduate from law school for nothing."
*****************************************************************************
A tiny while later...
"Our last fiesta together, huh, partner?" Matt commented as he and
Elisa exited the precinct.
Elisa pulled her keys out of her pocket and sighed. "Looks like it.
Too bad _I_ didn't get put in charge of the Gargoyles Task Force. I'd like
to show some of those rioters who should be annhilated..."
"Taking that into account, I can't _imagine_ why the Captain turned
down your request," Matt joked, but when she gave him a whole-hearted punch in
the ribs, he added, "But if you were on the Force, you probably wouldn't be
allowed to see the guys at all."
The female detective ignored him and fumbled with unlocking the car
door. Matt watched her for a moment, and then smiled a bit.
"Hey, since this _is_ our last time working together for who-knows-how-
long, maybe you could let me--"
"Not on your life, buster," she interrupted, finally opening the door
and starting the ignition. "I'd have to be in a completely different dimension
before I'd let you drive this car."
Matt sighed and jumped in. "Well, it was worth a try," he started,
just before the CB crackled.
*"All units within the vicinity of Main street, please respond. There
is an aggravated riot holding up traffic. We need backup. Repeat, we need
backup."*
"That's us!" Elisa barked. "Tell 'em we're as good as there!"
** * * * * * * * **
The dais, a splendid little thing that had been decorated in honor of
the Mayor's gargoyle speech, had been disassembled by a mob of angry citizens
and the pieces deposited in the dead center of Main Street. Now a whole crowd
of anti-gargoylists gathered around to hear the thoughts of their fellow humans.
Only a slight few were there who opposed these opposers.
"They've already tried to attack a woman, and they've stolen from a
harmless jewelery store! If this is _one_ night of their treachery, what will
they do in a week?"
"I've heard them trying to get into my apartment!"
The crowd gasped and incrreased their protest, even as a limo, trailed
by a taxi, pulled up behind the group. The sign brandishing, fist waving swarm
of vehement citizens shouted and booed as none other than Mayor Giuliani,
followed by the head District Attorney Christopher Guild, walked out of the
limo and precariously pushed their way ahead of the crowd. Behind them, a
particularily grubby blond woman exited the taxicab, with a brown haired, lanky
fellow in tow. Two associates of the mayor produced a small podium and placed
it before their employer.
The Mayor, trying to clam down the crowd, waved his hands and shouted
for attention. "AHEM! If you would all just listen..." he started.
The crowd silenced themselves long enough to hear what he had to say,
though their demeanor remained tangibly negative. The blond and the DA both
crossed their arms and put on stern faces.
"Fellow citizens, bear in mind that the past few weeks have been distressing
for us all. We have been dealt several blows, and I realize taht you must all
desire retribution and swift action." Cameras rolled, bulbs flashed. "And I
promise you, the necessary steps will be taken. But you must all remain calm,
for acting without thinking will not help this situation. As we speak, the
police precincts are arranging a special group called the Gargoyles Task Force,
an unbiased organization who will provide a liasion between this city and these
potentially sentient creatures--"
"Sentient creatures my ass!" Someone screamed, and the whole crowd
took a step forward.
Meanwhile, a red Ford Fairlane pulled to a stop behind the mob, and a
female and male stepped out. The crowd did not take heed of them, and merely
continued their rioting. The female in the red bomber jacket paused a moment,
trying to catch a few of the Mayor's words, as the trenchcoated male moved to
the front to aid the other officers.
"--The Task Force will also be concerned with dealing out justice to
both sides of this conflict."
The DA took that moment to push up next to the mayor, and patiently
waited for his turn to speak. The yells did dim for a few moments, and Guild
took advantage of it. "What the Mayor means is that we are taking extra
precautions to set up protection against these beasts, and that we will
ensure your safety through these precautions." Some of the crowd began to
laugh sarcastically at that comment, and the few who had shown up in support
of the gargoyles gave up and walked away.
"Do you think I'm joking?" Guild continued. "After all, I have already
proposed that these creatures be ranked as one of the top twenty menaces in
Manhattan. Just look at my assistant, Margot Yale! Her appearance is the
result of a major confrontation between one of these 'myths'!"
The indicated blond went to Guild's side, straightened her hair, and
began to recount what she had seen, exactly the way _she_ had seen it.
* * * * *
"Detective Maza, it is a bit of a surprise to see ye here," someone
voiced near her. The sound of her name snapped her away from the babbling of
the crowd, which was listening with mixed feelings to Yale's description of
her night out. The familiar Scottish brogue caught her off guard, but supplied
her with a name and a face in no time flat.
"MacBeth?" she asked in bewilderment, pushing her way from the ranting
mess of human beings to get a better look. She emerged on the left, taking a
deep breath as she came upon the man in the black trenchcoat. "What are _you_
doing here?"
MacBeth took her in and smiled. "I could ask ye the same thing, Detective.
I didn't think ye were the type te be at a gargoyle-thrashing event."
Elisa paused, watching as the press began casting out questions to
Margot. She couldn't help but notice how much that woman seemed to relish the
attention--and how much Guild, from the background, seemed to be sharing that
feeling.
"I'm here as part of my job. We don't need five hundred of these
bozos tearing this place apart for cathartic exercise." She crossed her arms.
"What's _your_ excuse?"
"I decided Paris was a fruitless cause, and came back te my old home.
This place is anythin', but boring." He waved a hand towards the display ahead
of them both. "And, contrary to some of ouir past experiences, I mean ye and
youir company no harm. Demona can come find _me_ for a change."
The dark-complexioned police officer adjusted her jacket collar. "They'll
be pleased to hear you say that," she replied, pointing out the small transmitter
tucked there.
MacBeth's eyebrows went up, and then so did his eyes, until he located
three winged shapes silhoutted atop a tall, nearby building. "I see youir
friends didnae want to miss the fun," he commented with a chuckle. Elisa
opened her mouth to say something, but he interrupted. "And as much as they
must be hoping for my help, I must decline. Because when ye get te be my age,
ye learn there's no point in takin' sides, and for a time, I would just like
to relax and...ponder."
Elisa's heart ached a little at MacBeth's tired, I-hate-being-an-immortal
tone. "Well, then, I guess if anything does come up...we know where to find
each other," she said empathetically.
MacBeth nodded, bowed, and turned away. Elisa was momentarily
distracted as the crowd began to disperse, and when she looked back, she found
that the ancient king was gone.
****************************************************************************
"Mr. Mayor, I don't understand why you're so upset," Guild revealed
to his boss as he, the Mayor, and Margot Yale relaxed in the back of the high-
class limo.
Giuliani crossed his arms and looked Guild in the eye. "Your speech
was absolutely unnecessary, Christopher. We had this prearranged, and you
turned it into a circus! Now the whole city is going to be out hunting these
things!"
"Rudolph," Guild continued smoothly. "Those people were threatening
to take the law into their own hands. By promising them action from _us_, I
took away their feeling of obligation of action from _them_."
"I agree with Mr. Guild," the blond woman, who Rudolph knew as Margot
Yale, spoke. She was the one who had sent her sour husband home in a taxi.
"Now that we have control over this situation, we can spend this newfound time
to observe and halt the doings of these awful pests."
Guilianni looked at her skeptically. "And you, miss...you seem so
sure that these beasts are pests...how are you to judge what you saw tonight?
You made it sound like some sort of alien invasion."
Margot assumed a testimonial pose. "If you had seen what those three
did with this poor man, you wouldn't be questioning me!"
Guild jumped to Margot's defense. "Besides, sir, if they didn't do
all that they have been accused of, don't you think that they would have defended
themselves by now?"
Giuliani leaned back in his chair for a second, defeated. "Yes, okay,
Mr. Guild. Your little speech has quieted everyone down for now, and so we'll
just stick to your 'tactic'. But, if for any reason, this backfires or gets
out of control, I will personally withdraw my support for you under this a
dministration."
"Of course, sir. But let me assure you, this is an absolutely fool
proof plan. We keep the people happy, even if we don't give them the bloodshed
they want. What can they do in the meanwhile?"
****************************************************************************
"Tomorrow is another day. I am confident that things will work
themselves out in the future," Owen Burnett heard Goliath say as the gargoyles
entered the Great Hall.
"Aye, lad," Hudson continued. "'Tis no worse than the days of ouir
past."
The lavender clan leader nodded solemnly as Lexington followed the
two older gargoyles to the fireplace. They all stood there a moment, staring
into the fire, until there was a loud yawn from behind them.
"See, I told you they'd be here," Brooklyn chided as he pointed Goliath
out to his companions. He, Angela, and a limping Broadway dragged themselves
down into the grand room.
"Hello, Father," Angela greeted as she caped her wings and took Goliath's
hand. "How was your night?"
He smiled once, though it was troubled. "It was...slightly difficult.
Perhaps yours was better?"
"About as good as it gets," Broadway snorted as he collapsed into a
chair, rubbing his wings. "Just please tell me it's close to dawn! My wings
are killing me!"
"Yeah, like you did _so_ much strenuous work tonight," Brooklyn sneered
from across the room, and was only silenced by a stern look from Angela.
"Don't pay them any attention, Goliath," she assured. "The humans are
just nervous about us, like we are of them. We just need to give them time."
Goliath smiled again, the troubled look fading. "I indeed have faith
in what you say, daughter." He turned to face the entire clan, not phased by
their bedraggled looks. "Be patient, all of you. This is a new step in all
our lives with which we will have to live. And despite the fact that there
may be a few hostilities, this knowledge of our existence can also open up
new doors, for new allies and new friends!"
"Here, here!" Lex toasted, and the rest managed to look enthused.
Hudson, standing in the corner with his arms crossed, turned his head
toward the large windows. "It seems new friends will have te wait for the
moment. Dawn is approaching."
Goliath herded them all toward the stairwell, new hope alive in him.
"Then let us get to our posts."
Angela trailed behind the group in watched in mild amusement as
Brooklyn and Broadway fought over who would perch next to her for the day.
She smiled faintly and scratched Bronx's head.
"I just hope they remember what I said to them when we were fighting
Brode, Bronx. I'll choose my mate in time!"
*****************************************************************************
A black Lexus sat parked by the shabby apartment building, as its
owner, within, watched the turmoil across the street. Seems a group of people
were arguing about the ownership of the only remaining issue of Times, their
hostility no doubt brought on by the presence of the demons. The city was
reacting more ideally than he had hoped, and, thankfully, the speech made by
the DA had not fully quenched it's thirst for action. So now was the time, to
begin again, like all those preceeding him had, and like all those succeeding
him _would_.
"Yes," he whispered darkly. "If you want something done right, you've
got to do it yourself."
With one last look onto the street, he started the ignition and pulled
away from the curb, driving into the retreating darkness of the west, to meet
with a couple friends.
When it came to promoting the Cause, he was the man for the job.
END
So, how did you like it? E-mail me!
(niamhgold@hotmail.com)
Next up; Every dog has his day, so
Bronx decides to take a midnight
stroll...
By Niamhgold at niamhgold@hotmail.com
Well, the good thing about wiping out my old page and reposting everything
is the fact that I get to put all of my stories in order, and do some editing.
I even changed the title of one story. Anyways, thanks to those of you
who've been reading and writing, because it's really appreciated, and I love
E-mail.
For those of you who haven't read this story already, this my first
foray into fanfic, my first installment of my series, and just an opener.
Its main purpose is to "set the stage," if you will. In the future, the
stories will get more nitty-gritty into the characters' personal lives. (And
for you E & G fanatics, that plot thread will be coming along shortly!) It's
set to occur perhaps a few weeks since the incident at Saint Damien's Cathedral,
and in my universe, well, it would have come out sometime in Decemeber of
'98.
DISCLAIMER: Gargoyles and all gargoyles characters herein belong
to Disney and Buena Vista, and their shows like Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The
Goliath Chronicles, they do not belong to me and I am not making one
cent off this fanfic--the mentioning of the Disney company and Donald duck
herein are also property of Disney, and are in no way being exploited for my
personal benefit. I just loved the show and wanted to show it! All other
characters unaffiliated with Disney or Buena Vista are mine. Let the show
begin!
=========================
PREVIOUSLY, ON _GARGOYLES_:
Goliath: "This island--Manhattan--is our castle. From this day forward,
we will protect all who live here, human and gargoyle alike."
___*** REAWAKENING ***___
Angela: (Looks skeptically towards Raven). "If they mean you harm, why do
you protect the humans?"
Goliath: "Gargoyles protect with honor, Angela. It is our heritage,
regardless of how we are treated."
**
Goliath: "What humans do not understand, they fear. And what they fear,
they often seek to destroy."
___*** HERITAGE ***___
Jon Carter: "Urban myths no longer, these creatrures launched a completely
unprovoked attack upon our city's finest."
Owen: "Obviously, the Gargoyles did not destroy their own
clocktower."
Fox: "Maybe not, but everyone is going to think they did. The
whole _city_ will be hunting them now."
Hudson: "We cannot abandon ouir home."
Goliath: "Our home is no more, Hudson. This time in our lives is over..."
Brooklyn: "And so it begins--Gargoyles, chapter two. Or is it three? I've
lost count."
___*** HUNTER'S MOON, PART III ***___
And, Finally...
* * * * * * * * * *
--- ...OF THINGS TO COME ---
The cold, early-November wind swept across the city, dancing in a
whistling rhythm from rooftop to rooftop. The commuters, who had decided to
trek the city by foot, nervously glanced skyward from time to time, save the
tourists. They had not been in New York City during the week of the bombing,
and had not yet read the insinuating newspapers or listened to the insistent
bantering of the News and television broadcasts associated with the peculiar
events of that October's Hunter's Moon. And those visitors that had, merely
brushed thme off with a chuckle, thinking the reports just another
extravagance of the Big Apple. But, if these tourists would stay around
long enough, they would know the truth. And, like the permanent residents,
cower in fear of it.
These locals take extra precautions now against the
threat of an invasion by winged monsters. The number of guns being sold
on the street increased nearly three-fold, and the merchants of Brink's
Security Systems had never seen so many orders flow in. Children and
teenagers who had grown quite fond of roaming their mother city during
the later hours were plagued by persistently enforced curfews. And when
it became a necessity for some people to venture out to the stores after
dark, they traveled in tighlty packed groups, happily embracing the notion
that there is safety in numbers.
There were rumors going around that the District Attorney was
trying to get the gargoyles ranked as one of the top twenty menaces in
Manhattan. Many supported this propostion, and even those that didn't,
hadn't yet tried to oppose it. Other rumors, unconnected to Proposal 587,
were racing through the city like wildfire since the incident at Saint
Damien's Cathedral. This gossip stated that gargoyles had been responsible
for many previous incidents--stealing house pets, breaking into apartments
via the rooftops to search for food and humans, unprovoked destruction of
cars, personal property, and other such exaggerations. Charges that had
been filed in the police stations up to two months earlier were retracted,
then resubmitted, but this time the blame shifted to the Winged Scourge.
And, indeed, the Gargoyle issue became a one sided, highly political issue.
All who had been exposed to the fear and panic provoked by the appearances
of these "urban myths" were, on some level or another, turned against the
gargoyles. There were a minute percentage that had decided to be supporters
of these creatures, and another percent was undecided.
*****************************************************************************
In an apartment complex opposite the Eyrie Building, a young aunt
was tucking in her two nieces for bed. They were reluctant, and one blond,
pig-tailed runt did not want to lay down.
"It's too early," she whined, puffing out her cheeks in a
five-year-old pout. "I want to watch cartoons."
Their twenty-something babysitter sighed. "No more cartoons, Nina.
Now go to bed, unless you want those evil gargoyles to get you..." she
taunted with a waving finger.
The two girls looked at each other with pure shock and horror, and then
buried themselves in their covers.
The aunt closed the door and collapsed on the couch in the living room.
She had just started to nod off when the window, pushed by the wind, creaked.
The burnette jumped up and shrieked, then settled back down in
embarrassment as she realized that no demon had flown into her room.
"Just the wind," she assured herself, but, with a second thought, walked up
to the window and latched it tightly.
*****************************************************************************
...However, in a place far separated from the city, high above the clouds in
a fairy-tale like fashion, eleven inhabitants knew the truth. One was a
megalomaniac multibillionaire, who was known for accepting the most
unbelievable stories in life. The second was pure trickster in a rigid
mortal's guise, whose human features betrayed no inner emotion, but whose
Fey soul was dancing in delight at the curious turn Fate had taken. Two
others, mother and son, were part human and part fey, the son more able in
magical ability than the mother, thanks to the aid of Puck.
There was another, one who didn't reside here. This female detective
had known the truth from the beginning, and had accepted it with an open heart.
She was not but a normal human, or as normal as humans could come, with
the company she kept. But, her life is yet another story.
The remaining seven were the ones accused of the recent tension
bubbling up throughout the city. In the day, for those that made a visit to
the topmost floor of the Eyrie Building, they were not but seven intricately
carved statues perched in the most varying of poses. Harmless, really,
but many a human would give their right arm to smash them in their sleeping
state. But then those murderers would never hear the desperate pleas of
these creatures, who, if one listened to open-mindedly enough, could convince
one that they're innocent of their charges.
And, if one would pay attention to the details, they would see that
these beings did not have eight eyes, that they did not have six rows of
fangs, that they did not survive soley on the instinct to kill and the
gift of intelligence, as the ground-dwellers would have you believe.
People would discover that these were sentient creatures, who were a
great deal more noble than our own race.
****************************************************************************
Xanatos had his arms crossed behind his back and was looking out an
arched window when Owen walked in with a tray of coffee.
"Mrs. Xanatos will be joining you shortly, sir," the servant stated
blandly. Xanatos remained staring out into the night, with that same old
smirk on his face. "Is there something the matter, sir?"
The Greek multibillionaire turned on his heels and sat down at the
comfortable sofa-table, steepling his fingers. Through the window
backgrounding Xanatos, Owen could make out the silhouttes of six gargoyles
gliding off, supposedly on patrol. "Sir?" Burnett repeated.
Xanatos finally spoke. "It's just odd to see how much has changed,
since last year's standing." Something twinkled in the entrepreneur's eyes.
"To think, after all that feuding, they're living in the same building as me!"
"Indeed, sir," Owen commented. "There even seems to be a trust
formimg between some clan members and yourself..."
Xanatos chuckled deeply at that remark. "Some of them I predicted
would, like Angela, Hudson, and Bronx. Broadway and Brooklyn are, as you know,
too busy settling their 'undefined' dispute, and Lexington is a little
hesistant. Goliath is a bit more agreeable to this alliance than I figured,
but Detective Maza, on the other hand...is not going to come around for a
while yet."
Both paused in their conversation as the door to the living room opened,
and a smoldering Fox walked in.
Owen smiled at her (as well as a Burnett could smile). "Good evening,
Mrs. Xanatos."
"Don't you 'good evening' me," Fox harumphed, then turned to her
husband. "David, do you have any idea what that man's been teaching our
son?!"
Xanatos, despite his wife's seriousness, grinned as Owen tried to
escort her to a seat. "No, I don't, but I'd be glad to listen." He winked
in his manservant's general direction.
In response, Owen stiffened and spoke before Fox had a chance to.
"Apparently, Mrs. Xanatos was trying to bathe young Alexander and he..."
he paused, looking at Mrs. Xanatos warily. "...transformed himself into
a goldfish. Thankfully, I was there to help the child reverse the spell."
"Thankfully...!" Fox started, but Xanatos held up his hand.
"The reversion is much appreciated, Owen," David said through a
chuckle, as his wife crossed her arms. He shook his head and then asked,
"Speaking of Alex, where is he?"
Fox smiled, her anger from earlier fading as he brought up one of her
favorite subjects. "He's playing with Lex up in the living room." she
paused. "I hope their not watching the news again. I think it depresses
Alex, on some level."
"Exactly what is on about our live-ins _this_ time?"
"Well, you know Goliath...he still insists that they patrol during the
night to 'protect the city.' So now there are hundreds of reports of
gargoyle sightings, and they're being manifested into attacks and robberies."
*****************************************************************************
Broadway secretly glared at Brooklyn from the rear of the patrol V.
The beaked creep was in the lead with Angela, and was doing his best to "put
the moves on her." Things between the two rookery brothers had been tense
like this, and despite Angela's persistence at saying she liked both of them,
he and Brooklyn still hadn't stopped their courtship antics.
And the recent attitude that had developed ominously throughout the
humans of the city was not helping the terseness of the situation.
Broadway looked concentrated on the buildings passing below him, as
not to see his brother's smugness at being able to fly with the eligible
female of the clan. By doing so, he noticed three little figures in black
breaking through the side window of a small shop.
"Hey!" he called up to the front, not too disappointed at having to
interrupt Brooklyn's cozy conversation with Goliath's daughter. "We've got
some action down there!" He pointed a claw towards the little shoop, which
was without the benefit of a burglar alarm.
Brooklyn raised his browridge for a moment, then pinned up his wings
and dove towards the crime scene. "Let's go!" he called up to his still
air-borne compatriots as he landed on the victim edifice.
"Ladies first," Broadway offered Angela humbly. She smiled at him and then
followed Brooklyn's descent, and was tagged closely by Broadway. When the
two landed, they found Brooklyn had already discovered the ceiling vent,
and was yanking it wide open. Without a cautious thought, the red-beaked
gargoyle jumped down into the shop, urging Angela with him.
Seeing Broadway's more cautious entrance, Brooklyn whispered, "Come
on, we've got to do this before they have a chance to escape!"
Before Broadway could make a rebbutal, there was a sharp inhalation of
breath from behind all three gargoyles. Brooklyn and Angela shot around to
see that one of the probable felons had discovered them. Thankfully, the man
in black was momentarily stunned by the sight of these garogyles, giving
Broadway a chance to lunge.
But the criminal was also very fast, and he whipped out a small
pistol. Seeing the weapon (and with Braodway's _great_ affintiy for guns),
the aquamarine gargoyle's eyes burst into blazing sockets seconds before his
tail shot out and knocked the firearm from the man's hand. However, when it
hit the floor, the trigger snapped and a bullet shattered one of the ceiling
lights, making enough noise to signal the other two intruders. Both rounded
the corner of the aisle just as Broadway was lifting the first prowler up by
his shirt collar.
"Holy shit!! A gargoyle's got Andy!" one swore loudly. He snapped
open a switchblade and tried unsuccessfully to brandish it with a steady hand.
"Well, at least we're being _advertised_," Brooklyn snarled, as he
launched himself at the human.
But the kid rolled out of the way at the last minute, much to the
beaked creature's dismay. Brooklyn hit the shelf behind the perpetrator with
a crunch, and all the contents, which included finely crafted jewelry, came
crashing down on top of him.
Angela heard the crash and quickly caught up to the human who had
escaped Brooklyn's attempt. She hefted the kid to eye level as she growled
menacingly, and he pleaded for her not to hurt him.
"Pathetic," was how she responded, and then handed the kid to Broadway,
who had devised a clever pair of handcuffs from the store's merchandise.
"Brooklyn," she said as she kneeled down beside him. "Are you okay?"
Seeing Broadway scowl, Brooklyn started to make a response for Angela's
sympathy--up until the point that he heard the sound of footfalls moving
farther from them. "Oh, damn," he said instead.
"What?" Angela inquired, helping him up.
"Weren't there _three_ of those twerps?" he growled, pointing to the
mere _two_ bound on the floor, and struggling.
Angela turned and exchanged a look with Broadway, and then all three
were running after the third intruder.
* * * * * * * * *
Stupid, stupid, stupid!!!!
Reuben quickened his pace towards the small jewelry shop, shivering
more from the notion of how he was going to be punished than from the cold.
Father had entrusted him with the honor of the family business, and he had
messed up on the first day! How stupid of him, to leave the money still in
the cash register! He was a shame to the family, to their time-honored
tradition.
At least he'd be home quickly enough, as soon as he fixed his
mistakes, and then he could just skip the part about forgetting the money
and say he got held up in the subway station. Maybe...
As he approached the little shop, the sixteen year-old heard a
loud crash and an inhuman howl resound from within.
"What..." he started, and then quickly hurried to find his key. If
there were robbers, he'd much rather deal with them himself than have to
deal with his father's lecture on the un-ideal attetntion the police might
bring to their already-suffering boutique.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Angela!!" Brooklyn and Broadway exclaimed at the same time. "Did
he get you?"
Angela got up from where she had fallen and shook her head. "No, he
just surprised me." Her head swiveled as she searched for the kid who had
drawn the gun on her. "He's gone," she concluded with a sigh.
There was a scuffling noise from the front of the shop. "Shhh!"
Brooklyn demanded, listening. "That might be him!"
The three gargoyles skidded into the front room. Their two captives
were nowhere in sight, and neither was the third. A pile of loose
bindings explianed it all.
"Uh, I guess they got away," Broadway observed, shying back.
"Oh, just great," Brooklyn huffed. He motioned a thumb at Broadway.
"The Boy Scout flunkey over here can't even make his homemade handuffs right."
Angela sighed, and began to lift a fallen shelf. "Come on, you guys.
The least we can do is clean up." Brooklyn nodded, and, pushing ahead of
Broadway, started to help the female.
Right at that moment, the front door swung open and the lights clicked on.
A dark skinned teenager stood at the door, twin curls on either side of
his face swinging as he stopped short. Surprised by this unexpected visitor,
Angela and Brooklyn dropped the shelf, and it splitnered upon hitting the
floor.
"Monsters!" the boy shrieked, then, seeing the trio's hesistation to
attack, picked up a broom from beside the door and came at them with it.
Broadway stepped up and offered, "Look, sir, we'll help you clean
it--"
"Get back!" the kid ordered, swatting Broadway with the handle. "You
devils! Get out of my shop! GET OUT!"
"Well, you heard the man," Brooklyn said simply, and then he, Angela,
and Broadway jumped ou the broken window and fled into the night.
"The devils!" Reuben exclaimed. His shaking hands released the broom
and it clattered to the floor. He took a moment to take stock. The
damage wasn't too bad, he started to think, until he found the cash register
completely empty.
*****************************************************************************
He helped the woman up, who was shaking badly from her recent encounter.
Tears poured down her face as she clutched her newly-torn clothing to her
body. "It was those gargoyles, I'm telling you! They came flying in and
tried to kill that man! If you hadn't shown up, there's no telling what they
might have down to me after they got through with him!"
Morgan looked skeptically towards the woman who had been tagging alongside
him since he had arrived, then to the suspected rapist who was making the
same claims on the other side of the crowd. His eyes narrowed at the
television crews who had set up right beside the crime scene.
"Well, ma'am, if you come with us, you can file a report at the
precinct," he offered kindly, escorting her to his squad car. She started
to protest the point, when a reporter intercepted their path.
Great. Travis Marshall.
"Officer...Morgan," the tabloid employee started, reading the name
off the front of the policeman's uniform. "Can you please tell us what
happened out here? Were the gargoyles to blame? Did they assault this
young woman?"
"Sorry," Morgan said, raising his hand to the camera. "Public
relations isn't my department."
Travis looked mildly peeved. He did not notice the young victim
staring at her suspected rapist, who was arguing with city officials. That
is, until she said, "Why ask him? I'm the one who witnessed it all."
Marshall swept over towards her, drawing a stream of other interested
reporters. "You say you saw what those gargoyles did, did you?"
She took a deep breath. "Yes, I did. And I can set this whole thing
straight..."
Morgan shook his head as the young woman was enclosed in a circle of
news-seekers. His partner came over to him, also leaving behind a group
of non-plussed crewmen. "Ready to leave, partner?" Kincaid asked. "We
just got a call to report to a robbery on 54th and 2nd."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"...Everyone things that the man was trying something, but that
just isn't true. We were just minding our own business when those monsters
flew in and attacked! Thankfully, the police came along, and those sirens
seemed to scare them away."
"What about that other witness...that man? Are you sure he wasn't
trying to hurt you?" One female reporter asked, altough her aim was more
towards Women's Rights than the defense of the gargoyles.
The young woman looked pale for a moment, and then shrugged. "I've
never seen that man in my entire life. Neither of us had any time to even
speak to each other before those creatures came out of nowhere! They're
monsters, I tell you!"
*****************
Lexington furrowed his brow, and, at the aggravated border-of-crying
noises from Alex, changed the channel to Disney. Alex immediately perked up
and he reached his pudgy arms toward the screen.
"Okay, there, kiddo," Lex chuckled as he settled the Xanatos's baby
into the deluxe, no-doubt-cost-a-million-dolalrs playpen. He didn't want
the little tyke to transform himself into a Donald Duck or anything.
Lexington sighed. He was getting _really_ close to the kid of the Leader of
the Pack. Or the old leader, at least.
Things had changed. If he had been in charge of the clan, he would have
never moved back in with Xanatos and his wife. It was Fox, after all, who
had once tricked him into drawing Goliath into a trap.
But, maybe that was why he wasn't in charge. Goliath had a big grudge
against Xanatos, but had agreed to move in with him, despite their falling
out the fateful night that Demona had returned. For the clan's sake,
Goliath had explained.
And, Lexington thought ruefully, he was right. Xanatos's place was probably
the safest to be, especially when he took into account that news broadcast.
_Everyone_ was hunting them now.
"Laddie, 'tis not yuir fault. 'Tis the fact that the whole city is
ready to go up in flame at the sight of ye."
Lex turned, watching as Goliath and Hudson stepped into the television room.
Bronx, who had been napping leaisurely in the corner, sniffed at the scent
of Hudson's arrival and bounced to his feet, then plowed into the old
gargoyle.
"Ach, good te see ye, too, boy," Hudson grunted as he tried to push
three hundred pounds of garg-dog off him. He extended and clenched his
fingers a few times, teeth baring as he did so, then shrugged his head to see
if anyone had noticed.
But Lexington was concentrating on Goliath. "How was patrol?" he asked the
clan leader.
The lavender gargoyle sighed deeply, staring at some crack on the wall. Not
a good sign. "Not as I had hoped, after weeks of serving this city. We aided
a young woman who was being...mugged, and she made us out to be the villains."
Lexignton scratched the back of his head in that nervous little habit he had.
"Then maybe we could stay in...for awhile. Let people cool down..."
"_NO_," Golaith shot, then, more calmly, "No. We cannot deny our nature. I
know we can make this city understand, after time." Hudson nodded his
agreement. Goliath looked around, eager to change the subject. "Have
Angela, Brooklyn, or Broadway returned yet?"
"Nope. They should be back anytime, though," Lex answered, trying to hide a
smile. He was trying to supress a rather amusing memory from earlier that
night, when Broadway and Brooklyn had tried to decide which one was better
than the toher when it came to landing--just to impress Angela. Neither of
them had gotten past the first round before an argument had erupted.
Lexignton silently thanked himself for not taking part in that foolish event.
Before Golaith could reply, the doors opened to reveal Fox and David Xanatos,
and Lex immediately put himself on guard. The two walked side by side, as
cool as could be, and Fox left her husband's side to move over to the crib.
Goliath and Xanatos moved out into the Great Hall.
Lexington beat Fox to the crib and retrieved her sleeping baby. Fox watched
in interest as the web-winged gargoyle runt scooped up Alex and handed him
over to his mother.
"When he's sleeping, he looks too innocent to be the same kid who transformed
himself into a fish," she mumbled dryly, gathering the bundle of blankets
and baby into her arms. Lexington cringed when she twirled a golden curl
of Alex's hair around her forefinger.
In his efforts to hide his discomfort, he said, "Well, he might look innocent
now, but I wouldn't suggest giving him a bath without Owen around for
awhile."
Fox peeked over her son to look at him, and smiled--he wasn't sure if it
was sincere, because she was just as tricky as her snake-of-a-husband.
"Trust me, Lex." He cringed again when she used his nickname. "If he's
going to turn into anyhting, it's going to be dignified."
"Yeah, dignified, just like his parents," he snorted, on reflex.
She heard him, and, although her lip curled, she kept her cool. Fox suavely
began to exit the room, motionieng for him to follow, and Lexington, who felt
as though he had some sort of obligation, did.
"Well, you two seem to be getting along--does that have anything to do with
how Owen solved the Coldstone dilemma?" She finally said, after a pause.
Lexington only stroked Alex's hair, not meeting her eyes. "Maybe. But it's
all up to his parents, though, how close we get," he repliled with an
insinuating glance towards Xanatos, who was speaking with Goliath.
The red-haired ex-pa just raised an eyebrow. "I don't have anything
against gargoyles, Lexington. After all, we _are_ living in the same
household now, so that should settle any...doubts. So why don't we just
be pals, okay?"
Lexington almost laughed at how similar her offer was to the offer at their
first meeting--and that hadn't turned out so well. "You tricked me, not too
long ago..." he started, the memories vivid. "But for Alex, I'll try. He
deserves that chance...and you might, too."
That seemed to be enough for her taste, and she began to leave to put Alex
to bed. The baby gurgled something to Lex before Fox could disappear, and
the olive-green gargoyle smiled and waved a talon at the kid. "Goodnight,
Alex."
Fox carried the child away, and, seeing that her husband was still talking
with Goliath, she went to the elevator. "Goodnight, Lexington," she said
almost earneslty enough for his liking, and with a sharp smile. The
elevator doors shut quickly, but the image still lingered in Lex's mind.
He turned back to his laptop and shook his head.
Too weird.
******************
Goliath crossed his arms as he and Xanatos watched Fox exit. She had been
quite determined to talk with Lexington, despote how unfruitful the
conversation had turned out to be.
"It looks like Fox is making some progress," Xanatos commented, raising an
eyebrow at the towering gargoyle.
Goliath took a deep breath. "Perhaps, and perhaps not. Old wounds do not
heal that easily." He looked down intently at the once-evil billionaire.
"But they can be forgiven. I'm not here to trick you, Goliath, though the
old times were a bit...diverting. There are alternatives to harrassing your
clan, and I assure you that I'll turn to those instead," he stated as he
held out his hand, smiling daringly. "And the future is not written yet."
Goliath looked down at that hand, like he had when they had first met. "If
we had not saved your child, then I would not believe a word you are saying."
Seeing Xanatos draw back a bit, he added, "But we did. And since we are in
danger now, I will accept these terms--for the good of the clan, and for the
good of you family."
"You drive a hard bargian, Goliath," Xanatos said as they shook. "Maybe
trust will come into play later." With that, the Armani-clad human left
him.
Goliath's brow ridges furrowed. "We will see."
****************************************************************************
"Brendan, can't you walk any faster?" Margot harassed as she and her
husband scurried down the sidewalk. She was trying to pin up her short blond
hair and put on her lipstick at the same time.
"Margot, we wouldn't be in such a hurry if you had just let me call a
taxi," he shot back as he ran to keep up with her.
"Oh, of course, Brendan. The _last_ time we took an automobile, we
were attacked by monsters!" She huffed and gave up on her hair.
Brendan didn't argue any further, and instead pocketed his hands and
walked in smoldering frustration behind his wife. She, on the other hand,
continued her bantering.
"And couldn't you have worn something more...formal? I spent half of
last week's paycheck on a new suit for you, and you wear that...brown thing
with the loafers! How am I supposed to appear at this meeting with you dressed
like this? My boss is going to have a fit! And the media..."
"Out of the way!" a dingy man in a jean outfit interrupted as he stumbled
out from an adjacent alley. He skidded and slipped on an area of frozen
gutter runoff, fell, and, as he reached out for a hold, brought down Margot in
the process. Dollar bills, sporting many different denominations, flew from
his jacket.
"Please, miss!" The jeaned man, dirty face pale with fear and something
unidentifiable, grabbed onto the scarf around her neck. "Youse gots to help
me! I didn't do anythin'! It was _Them_!"
"What on Earth are you talking about, man?"
But before there could be a reply, a loud roar burst forth from the
same alley from which the crazed man had appeared. Margot clambered backwards,
in a crablike position, as three masive figures emerged from the darkness.
Brendan, who had been watching the whole scene, slid discreetly behind a street
lamp.
The dingy man choked on a scream and tried to unsheathe a weapon from
the insides of his jacket. "Youse gots nothin' on me!" he yelled at the trio
of beasts, and then, unexpectedly made a run for it.
"He's getting away!" a sickly purple female cried to her followers,
and Brendan could just make out from his position her ruby-flaming eyes.
A big blue male, in repsonse to the female's cry, picked up a huge
trash can and charged from the alley depths, a growl exploding from his throat.
"Margot!" Brendan yelled from his safe haven, as he realized that his
life partner was in the path of this defensive creature. In response, she
jumped to her feet.
Unfortunately, this sudden movement on Margot's part deterred the blue
one from its path, and he stumbled. The huge trash can it was carrying slammed
down on his poor wife, knocking her back several feet and dousing her in last
week's stink. She let out a wail of disgust, and, for all she was worth,
effectively kicked the big oaf in the shins with her three-inch high-heels.
Brendan, even in the midst of all this confusion, managed a chuckle.
The blue one growled again, pushing the blond nuisance out of his way
hard enough to send her rolling straight to Brendan. Her husband quickly kneeled
down to aid her, knowing that if he didn't, he was sure going to hear it
later.
"Nice going, Broadway!" a red male, with his arms crossed, hissed from
behind the others. In the next moment, he spread a pair of brick red wings
and bulleted towards the escaping man, who had not managed to get too far.
The man, being plucked up from the ground, cried out horribly and let loose
some undiscernable babble.
Brendan watched his wife's face morph into an expression of complete
shock as the red one scaled a nearby building, with the now-kicking man slung
over his back. The two others followed suit, spreading their own bat wings.
The jeaned man howled from the grasp of the beaked one's arms as the three
creatures dove off the roof, gliding into the darkness.
After a quiet moment, during which Brendan began to look suspiciously
at the pile of money that had escaped the captive man, he said, "Well, at least
that's over.
Margot looked down on herself and mumbled darkly. "Oh, and like you
were such a great help back here, Brendan! How could you just stand there
gawking while those monsters attacked me? You're so pathetic!"
"Well, darling, they didn't exactly seem to be threatening--" he
started.
"--Don't call me darling," she interrupted. "You don't deserve to.
Just because you're a coward, you think you can leave me for the dogs. Now
I'm going to be late, and I'm hideous! Guild will never approve of this this!"
He tried to help her clean off the remnants of the trash items from
her custom-tailored skirt suit, but she slapped his hands away.
"Maybe I can make something of this, though," she suddenly thought
outloud. "This could be just the thing for 587...and my promotion! Don't just
stand there, Brendan...call a taxi!"
"Yes, dear." He waved his hand. "Have you got another of _your_
college ideas?"
"Of course I do. I didn't graduate from law school for nothing."
*****************************************************************************
A tiny while later...
"Our last fiesta together, huh, partner?" Matt commented as he and
Elisa exited the precinct.
Elisa pulled her keys out of her pocket and sighed. "Looks like it.
Too bad _I_ didn't get put in charge of the Gargoyles Task Force. I'd like
to show some of those rioters who should be annhilated..."
"Taking that into account, I can't _imagine_ why the Captain turned
down your request," Matt joked, but when she gave him a whole-hearted punch in
the ribs, he added, "But if you were on the Force, you probably wouldn't be
allowed to see the guys at all."
The female detective ignored him and fumbled with unlocking the car
door. Matt watched her for a moment, and then smiled a bit.
"Hey, since this _is_ our last time working together for who-knows-how-
long, maybe you could let me--"
"Not on your life, buster," she interrupted, finally opening the door
and starting the ignition. "I'd have to be in a completely different dimension
before I'd let you drive this car."
Matt sighed and jumped in. "Well, it was worth a try," he started,
just before the CB crackled.
*"All units within the vicinity of Main street, please respond. There
is an aggravated riot holding up traffic. We need backup. Repeat, we need
backup."*
"That's us!" Elisa barked. "Tell 'em we're as good as there!"
** * * * * * * * **
The dais, a splendid little thing that had been decorated in honor of
the Mayor's gargoyle speech, had been disassembled by a mob of angry citizens
and the pieces deposited in the dead center of Main Street. Now a whole crowd
of anti-gargoylists gathered around to hear the thoughts of their fellow humans.
Only a slight few were there who opposed these opposers.
"They've already tried to attack a woman, and they've stolen from a
harmless jewelery store! If this is _one_ night of their treachery, what will
they do in a week?"
"I've heard them trying to get into my apartment!"
The crowd gasped and incrreased their protest, even as a limo, trailed
by a taxi, pulled up behind the group. The sign brandishing, fist waving swarm
of vehement citizens shouted and booed as none other than Mayor Giuliani,
followed by the head District Attorney Christopher Guild, walked out of the
limo and precariously pushed their way ahead of the crowd. Behind them, a
particularily grubby blond woman exited the taxicab, with a brown haired, lanky
fellow in tow. Two associates of the mayor produced a small podium and placed
it before their employer.
The Mayor, trying to clam down the crowd, waved his hands and shouted
for attention. "AHEM! If you would all just listen..." he started.
The crowd silenced themselves long enough to hear what he had to say,
though their demeanor remained tangibly negative. The blond and the DA both
crossed their arms and put on stern faces.
"Fellow citizens, bear in mind that the past few weeks have been distressing
for us all. We have been dealt several blows, and I realize taht you must all
desire retribution and swift action." Cameras rolled, bulbs flashed. "And I
promise you, the necessary steps will be taken. But you must all remain calm,
for acting without thinking will not help this situation. As we speak, the
police precincts are arranging a special group called the Gargoyles Task Force,
an unbiased organization who will provide a liasion between this city and these
potentially sentient creatures--"
"Sentient creatures my ass!" Someone screamed, and the whole crowd
took a step forward.
Meanwhile, a red Ford Fairlane pulled to a stop behind the mob, and a
female and male stepped out. The crowd did not take heed of them, and merely
continued their rioting. The female in the red bomber jacket paused a moment,
trying to catch a few of the Mayor's words, as the trenchcoated male moved to
the front to aid the other officers.
"--The Task Force will also be concerned with dealing out justice to
both sides of this conflict."
The DA took that moment to push up next to the mayor, and patiently
waited for his turn to speak. The yells did dim for a few moments, and Guild
took advantage of it. "What the Mayor means is that we are taking extra
precautions to set up protection against these beasts, and that we will
ensure your safety through these precautions." Some of the crowd began to
laugh sarcastically at that comment, and the few who had shown up in support
of the gargoyles gave up and walked away.
"Do you think I'm joking?" Guild continued. "After all, I have already
proposed that these creatures be ranked as one of the top twenty menaces in
Manhattan. Just look at my assistant, Margot Yale! Her appearance is the
result of a major confrontation between one of these 'myths'!"
The indicated blond went to Guild's side, straightened her hair, and
began to recount what she had seen, exactly the way _she_ had seen it.
* * * * *
"Detective Maza, it is a bit of a surprise to see ye here," someone
voiced near her. The sound of her name snapped her away from the babbling of
the crowd, which was listening with mixed feelings to Yale's description of
her night out. The familiar Scottish brogue caught her off guard, but supplied
her with a name and a face in no time flat.
"MacBeth?" she asked in bewilderment, pushing her way from the ranting
mess of human beings to get a better look. She emerged on the left, taking a
deep breath as she came upon the man in the black trenchcoat. "What are _you_
doing here?"
MacBeth took her in and smiled. "I could ask ye the same thing, Detective.
I didn't think ye were the type te be at a gargoyle-thrashing event."
Elisa paused, watching as the press began casting out questions to
Margot. She couldn't help but notice how much that woman seemed to relish the
attention--and how much Guild, from the background, seemed to be sharing that
feeling.
"I'm here as part of my job. We don't need five hundred of these
bozos tearing this place apart for cathartic exercise." She crossed her arms.
"What's _your_ excuse?"
"I decided Paris was a fruitless cause, and came back te my old home.
This place is anythin', but boring." He waved a hand towards the display ahead
of them both. "And, contrary to some of ouir past experiences, I mean ye and
youir company no harm. Demona can come find _me_ for a change."
The dark-complexioned police officer adjusted her jacket collar. "They'll
be pleased to hear you say that," she replied, pointing out the small transmitter
tucked there.
MacBeth's eyebrows went up, and then so did his eyes, until he located
three winged shapes silhoutted atop a tall, nearby building. "I see youir
friends didnae want to miss the fun," he commented with a chuckle. Elisa
opened her mouth to say something, but he interrupted. "And as much as they
must be hoping for my help, I must decline. Because when ye get te be my age,
ye learn there's no point in takin' sides, and for a time, I would just like
to relax and...ponder."
Elisa's heart ached a little at MacBeth's tired, I-hate-being-an-immortal
tone. "Well, then, I guess if anything does come up...we know where to find
each other," she said empathetically.
MacBeth nodded, bowed, and turned away. Elisa was momentarily
distracted as the crowd began to disperse, and when she looked back, she found
that the ancient king was gone.
****************************************************************************
"Mr. Mayor, I don't understand why you're so upset," Guild revealed
to his boss as he, the Mayor, and Margot Yale relaxed in the back of the high-
class limo.
Giuliani crossed his arms and looked Guild in the eye. "Your speech
was absolutely unnecessary, Christopher. We had this prearranged, and you
turned it into a circus! Now the whole city is going to be out hunting these
things!"
"Rudolph," Guild continued smoothly. "Those people were threatening
to take the law into their own hands. By promising them action from _us_, I
took away their feeling of obligation of action from _them_."
"I agree with Mr. Guild," the blond woman, who Rudolph knew as Margot
Yale, spoke. She was the one who had sent her sour husband home in a taxi.
"Now that we have control over this situation, we can spend this newfound time
to observe and halt the doings of these awful pests."
Guilianni looked at her skeptically. "And you, miss...you seem so
sure that these beasts are pests...how are you to judge what you saw tonight?
You made it sound like some sort of alien invasion."
Margot assumed a testimonial pose. "If you had seen what those three
did with this poor man, you wouldn't be questioning me!"
Guild jumped to Margot's defense. "Besides, sir, if they didn't do
all that they have been accused of, don't you think that they would have defended
themselves by now?"
Giuliani leaned back in his chair for a second, defeated. "Yes, okay,
Mr. Guild. Your little speech has quieted everyone down for now, and so we'll
just stick to your 'tactic'. But, if for any reason, this backfires or gets
out of control, I will personally withdraw my support for you under this a
dministration."
"Of course, sir. But let me assure you, this is an absolutely fool
proof plan. We keep the people happy, even if we don't give them the bloodshed
they want. What can they do in the meanwhile?"
****************************************************************************
"Tomorrow is another day. I am confident that things will work
themselves out in the future," Owen Burnett heard Goliath say as the gargoyles
entered the Great Hall.
"Aye, lad," Hudson continued. "'Tis no worse than the days of ouir
past."
The lavender clan leader nodded solemnly as Lexington followed the
two older gargoyles to the fireplace. They all stood there a moment, staring
into the fire, until there was a loud yawn from behind them.
"See, I told you they'd be here," Brooklyn chided as he pointed Goliath
out to his companions. He, Angela, and a limping Broadway dragged themselves
down into the grand room.
"Hello, Father," Angela greeted as she caped her wings and took Goliath's
hand. "How was your night?"
He smiled once, though it was troubled. "It was...slightly difficult.
Perhaps yours was better?"
"About as good as it gets," Broadway snorted as he collapsed into a
chair, rubbing his wings. "Just please tell me it's close to dawn! My wings
are killing me!"
"Yeah, like you did _so_ much strenuous work tonight," Brooklyn sneered
from across the room, and was only silenced by a stern look from Angela.
"Don't pay them any attention, Goliath," she assured. "The humans are
just nervous about us, like we are of them. We just need to give them time."
Goliath smiled again, the troubled look fading. "I indeed have faith
in what you say, daughter." He turned to face the entire clan, not phased by
their bedraggled looks. "Be patient, all of you. This is a new step in all
our lives with which we will have to live. And despite the fact that there
may be a few hostilities, this knowledge of our existence can also open up
new doors, for new allies and new friends!"
"Here, here!" Lex toasted, and the rest managed to look enthused.
Hudson, standing in the corner with his arms crossed, turned his head
toward the large windows. "It seems new friends will have te wait for the
moment. Dawn is approaching."
Goliath herded them all toward the stairwell, new hope alive in him.
"Then let us get to our posts."
Angela trailed behind the group in watched in mild amusement as
Brooklyn and Broadway fought over who would perch next to her for the day.
She smiled faintly and scratched Bronx's head.
"I just hope they remember what I said to them when we were fighting
Brode, Bronx. I'll choose my mate in time!"
*****************************************************************************
A black Lexus sat parked by the shabby apartment building, as its
owner, within, watched the turmoil across the street. Seems a group of people
were arguing about the ownership of the only remaining issue of Times, their
hostility no doubt brought on by the presence of the demons. The city was
reacting more ideally than he had hoped, and, thankfully, the speech made by
the DA had not fully quenched it's thirst for action. So now was the time, to
begin again, like all those preceeding him had, and like all those succeeding
him _would_.
"Yes," he whispered darkly. "If you want something done right, you've
got to do it yourself."
With one last look onto the street, he started the ignition and pulled
away from the curb, driving into the retreating darkness of the west, to meet
with a couple friends.
When it came to promoting the Cause, he was the man for the job.
END
So, how did you like it? E-mail me!
(niamhgold@hotmail.com)
Next up; Every dog has his day, so
Bronx decides to take a midnight
stroll...