A/N: Eventually I will write an NC-17 version of this chapter and post it to a different website, but for now ffnet's M rating description doesn't include graphic sex scenes. In the meantime, here is some awesome cuddling. Thank you to my anonymous reviewer, FirstUp!

Previously on Gargoyles: The IRC (the Interspecies Relations Council) is cooperating with the clan to hinder the Quarrymen's plans. Jamie is a Quarryman who was spying on the IRC, but then the clan found out and now he's a double agent spying on the Quarrymen. Pilgrim is the clan's priest, and he' sin charge of supervising the spy. Jamie and Pilgrim hooked up by playing a sexy trust game. In this chapter, Jamie and Pilgrim learn important things about each other.

Fandom: Disney's Gargoyles

Time: Takes place after Brooklyn returns from his time-dancing.

Special Notes: AU with OCs. No Gary-Stus, I promise. The story focuses on two author-created characters, but the all of the cannon clan are there too.

Warnings: Caveat lector (reader beware). M/M interspecies SLASH. That means a sexual relationship between a male human and a male gargoyle. Major character death. The rating is high for later chapters.

Genre: Action/Plot; Romance; Angst.

Disclaimer: Most of the content is owned by Disney. Original characters are owned by me.


Chapter 7: No More Games


Sated, Pilgrim caressed Jamie's chest as he rested his head on the human's shoulder. Jamie's arm was underneath him and held his waist loosely to Jamie's side. Jamie had been dozing for several minutes, which Pilgrim could only assume was a common occurrence for humans after sex. It was late into the night, after all, and Jamie had given Pilgrim no indication that the experience was disappointing. Quite the contrary, actually.

Pilgrim took the opportunity to watch Jamie sleep and observe the bedroom. The bed was an interesting piece of human furniture, softer than Pilgrim had expected. The only kind of bed he had to compare it to was the occasional hospital mattress in Xanatos's clinic used when the gargoyles were injured. That bed had crinkled in an unpleasant, antiseptic way, and Doctor Sevarius had never been quite so accommodating to his guests.

Amused by his comparison, Pilgrim lazily kissed Jamie's shoulder and neck. This roused Jamie from his light slumber. The human smiled and whispered a "hello" before he bothered to open his eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you," Jamie whispered.

Pilgrim kissed Jamie's lips. In response, Jamie tightened his grip on Pilgrim's waist. "If ye're tired, ye should rest."

"Mm. Cold." The sheets were tangled at their feet, so Pilgrim pulled them up and covered both of them up to their waists.

"Better?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Pilgrim lay his head on Jamie's shoulder again. They stayed like that until Pilgrim thought that his companion had fallen asleep again. Finally, though, Jamie sighed—not his previous sighs of pleasure or contentment, but a worried, heavy one. Pilgrim waited for the beautiful spell to be broken; it had to happen eventually.

"It was my father," Jamie said, his voice clinical but somehow full of regret at the same time. Pilgrim imagined that would be how a doctor would deliver terrible news to a grieving family. The words did not make sense, however, so he lifted himself onto his elbows and raised his eyebrows. "The man on the roof. It was my father. He was checking to see if I was okay." Well, that was curious information. The halting way Jamie delivered it confirmed the worst of Pilgrim's fears, and his stomach twisted into a tight knot. "He's a lieutenant. I report directly to him. I didn't—don't—want him arrested."

Pilgrim could not bring himself to respond, so he merely nodded. Family changed the equation quite a bit.

"That's it?" Jamie asked. "You've got nothing to say to that?"

"Ye've been lying," Pilgrim replied after a moment's thought. "Blood is important to us, and ye must have known that. All ye had to do when we caught ye was beg us to let ye go, lest we ask ye to betray yer kin. It would have worked—we would never have asked ye to spy under such circumstances." The Quarryman would not meet his gaze, so Pilgrim knew his surmise was correct. "Ye knew that, so ye must have wanted to be caught." Jamie did not deny it. "What have ye told them?"

Jamie closed his eyes. "Everything."

Well. So be it, then. He laid his head back on Jamie's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Jamie whispered. He tangled his fingers in the hair at the base of Pilgrim's neck. It was still a gentle, loving touch, and somehow that made it right. Pilgrim relaxed into the human's arm. Despite the terrible information they were exchanging, each continued to soften the blows with small touches, a kiss here and there, as they spoke.

"All yer failed attempts lately—all an act?" The human nodded. "And ye sounded the alarm tonight, didn't ye? They knew we were coming."Jamie shuddered and pulled him closer. "It's all right. Why are ye shaking?"

"I had to, Pilgrim," Jamie hissed. "They know everything, and they know when I'm lying, and they're nothing like you. You defended me, and I . . . ."

"Ye're not such a bad liar after all," Pilgrim said, not unkindly. Jamie held his breath, as if waiting for a blow or insult. "Ye're scared. Ye do nae really believe I would hurt you?"

"Physically? No. But you could walk out the door, and that would hurt just as much."

Pilgrim smiled and wrapped his arms around his human. "I am nae going anywhere. Do ye think I would be shocked to learn that ye are a Quarryman after all? I will nae turn on ye for such a predictable thing."

"You should," Jamie insisted, though he'd relaxed. "You should turn me in to the clan. Get rid of me."

Pilgrim thought about that. He could do something that would allow the Quarrymen to see that their plot had failed. If the clan no longer trusted him . . . . "What would happen to ye? What would they do if ye failed?"

Jamie trembled. "I don't know. It doesn't matter."

Pilgrim smiled weakly. "Ye are a human in my protectorate, Quarryman or no. I have to protect ye."

For some reason, that simple admission horrified Jamie. The human placed his free hand over his face. "I've made a huge mistake," he muttered. "You gave me a way out! You offered me a way out, and I didn't take it."

Pilgrim remembered his offer to disband the I.R.C. "The offer still stands."

"No. No, it doesn't. They know about it. I told them. They'd never believe it now."

"Ah. Well, that is a problem, then."

"I didn't trust you, I didn't believe you. I'm so sorry."

"Jamie," Pilgrim soothed him. "It's all right."

"How is it all right?"

"We'll continue as before. We have a . . . what is that chess term? For when neither side can win?"

"Stalemate."

"Aye. We are at a stalemate, and we shall keep it that way. It is safest for ye. And yer father will be safe. I will do what I can to prevent him from being arrested, for yer sake."

"Thank you. That means so much." Jamie regarded him with desperation. "Pilgrim, I need you to know something."

Pilgrim tensed. What else could there be to confess? "What?"

"They didn't tell me to . . . to do this." He gestured vaguely around the room. This was . . . I wanted to do this."

He couldn't help himself; Pilgrim laughed. "Aye, I believe that."

"Are you sure? Because I need you to believe me. Really believe me, none of that 'I choose to trust you because I don't have a choice' crap." Jamie's words were harsh, but his tone was lighter than it had been for the entire conversation.

Pilgrim grinned. "I believe ye. I cannae believe the Quarrymen would suggest having sex with me. It is entirely unnecessary."

"Plus they'd probably burn me at the stake if they knew about it."

Pilgrim had known as much, but he felt a sudden fear for his . . . companion. He hid his uncertainty with a deep kiss. Jamie did not immediately object to the change of subject; eventually, though, he rolled Pilgrim onto his back and held him down at the wrists.

"Why don't you hate me?" Jamie asked. "I get that your clan has rules about who they have to protect, but you're the only one who actually seems to like me. Why?"

Pilgrim shrugged as well as he could without knocking Jamie over. He rather enjoyed being pinned to the mattress. The question was a fair one, however, and Jamie deserved an answer. "Because I do not like humans," he said carefully.

Jamie let go and sat straddling Pilgrim's hips. "Huh?"

"Everything bad that has ever happened to me was because of humans," he said. He watched as Jamie's expression changed from puzzled to sober. "They killed dozens of my kinsmen. They killed my . . . my mate. The one person I loved more than my own life. It was a human who cursed me, and when I woke up, I was in a world where humans had weapons and machines that made them seem like gods, and I now I am more afraid of them than I'd ever been in Scotland."

"But you're . . . you make all these high-and-mighty speeches about how gargoyles are supposed to value the lives of humans over their own hatchlings' lives because that's the natural order of things, and now you're telling me that you're secretly a . . . racist? Speciesist? Asshole?"

Pilgrim grinned despite himself. Only Jamie could make him smile at a time like this. "Don't tell anyone. It's a secret. Being reasonable and high-minded is just my job."

"So you're trying to say you like me because you understand me? Because we're both terrible people?" Jamie was on the defensive.

Pilgrim reached for Jamie's hand. "I am saying that my kinsmen genuinely like humans and make exceptions for the ones who try to hurt them. But I make exceptions for the humans I find I do like. Like you—I like you and Elisa and Matt, but I do nae trust anyone else. I think that is what you do, too."

"So we're really going to have this conversation?"

"Aye. Yes."

"Fine. I don't like gargoyles. Your clan scares the hell out of me."

"And me?"

Jamie swallowed. "I think you're perfect."

Pilgrim's heart fluttered. "I know I do not understand you. But I understand myself, and I can see some of the same thoughts in you, and I respect that knowledge enough to realize that there's more to either of us than one emotion."

"What emotion? Hate?"

"Fear. Most hate is really fear."

Jamie climbed off Pilgrim and returned to lay at his side. "Yeah, I guess it is. You're a smart man," he said in Pilgrim's ear.

"Nay," Pilgrim replied. "Goliath taught me that." His voice quivered, not just because Jamie had resumed nibbling on his neck.

"I wish I could have met him."

"He would have liked you."

"You think?"

"Aye. He was very wise."

Pilgrim tugged on the hair at the base of Jamie's neck and kissed him thoroughly. The human moaned and reluctantly pulled away.

"Pilgrim?"

"Hm?"

"What the hell are we doing?"

"Kissing."

"Is this going to be a regular thing?"

Pilgrim smirked. "It had better be." Jamie looked worried, though, so he added, "Why? Would ye prefer that it not?"

"No, I, I mean, I do want to. We should definitely . . . I just . . . ." Jamie was blushing, and Pilgrim thought it was adorable.

"Jamie." Pilgrim tightened his grip on the human's hair. "Focus." Normally he found Jamie's stumbling over his words adorable, but he needed to understand what was going on with the human. "What is wrong?"

"Sorry. What are we going to tell them?"

"Ye mean my clan? And the I.R.C.?"

"Yeah."

Pilgrim thought about it. Technically, they needed approval from Brooklyn for any relationships outside of the clan. If this was a relationship, anyway. He did not want to lie to his clan, even by omission, but Jamie's sexuality was a secret from everyone, including the I.R.C. Pilgrim didn't understand that, but as Jamie had said, humans could be weird about sex. "I want it to be your decision."

Jamie regarded him for a few moments, during which Pilgrim debated whether he had ever seen eyes as beautiful as Jamie's. By the time he'd decided that no, he hadn't, Jamie leaned down and kissed him briefly on the lips. "Are you sure?"

"Aye. I want to tell my clan, but I will wait if you prefer it."

Jamie nodded, looking relieved. "I don't want to tell them anything. Not yet. I'm not . . . I don't think I'm ready for that. They don't trust me as it is. And . . . I just . . . need to process."

Pilgrim nodded. "I understand."

"Thanks. Again."

"I do have to go, though."

Jamie pouted. "Why?"

"It will be dawn soon."

Jamie glanced at the digital clock and groaned. "Damn."

Although it was the last thing he wanted to do in the world, Pilgrim gently nudged Jamie to the side and climbed out of the bed. He gathered his pants from the floor and his armor and kilt from the living room while Jamie did the same. They dressed in a comfortable silence.

When he paused before the window, he pulled Jamie to him gently and folded his wings around the human. They exchanged one more kiss before whispering "good morning," and soon Pilgrim was in the air heading back toward the castle.

The flight was brief, but the chilly pre-dawn air reminded him of the night's battle and the argument he'd had with Maureen. He scowled when he realized that Brooklyn would probably be waiting for him to come home so they could talk about his outburst. He almost regretted telling Jamie that he would not reveal their . . . whatever it was they had . . . to Brooklyn. He was pretty sure that their deal also included, by tacit agreement, Jamie's revelation that he had been sabotaging the clan's schemes and that his father was one of the Quarrymen. As a priest, Pilgrim was used to keeping secrets, but he'd never before kept the secrets of someone who was not a kinsman. But he had no desire to give his clan more reasons to distrust Jamie; he would simply have to stick to his story that Jamie was trying his best.

Sadly, his prediction proved correct. Brooklyn was perched on their customary balcony; the rest of the clan had moved one terrace over, presumably so that he and Brooklyn could have a private conversation that Pilgrim could not tactfully avoid.

Talking to a fully adult Brooklyn still struck Pilgrim as otherworldly. Pilgrim had grown used to being slightly older than the trio. In fact, their age difference was one reason that Pilgrim had waited so long before making a move for Lexington's affection. The trio had aged out of adolescence during their time in Manhattan, but now Brooklyn was older than Pilgrim was.

Pilgrim blamed the Phoenix Gate for most of his troubles, and he cursed it again now. This older, more mature Brooklyn was more comfortable being in command, and he was more willing to question Pilgrim's behavior. He crossed his arms as Pilgrim alighted on the balcony.

"Good evening, brother," Pilgrim greeted him in Scots Gaelic.

"Hi," Brooklyn replied in English. Pilgrim sighed. Brooklyn was hopelessly humanized in his manners. Pilgrim still liked to use the traditional kinship terms, at least when the clan was among themselves. The custom was for priests to address others as and be addressed as 'brother,' regardless of whether they were in the same rookery or not. Brooklyn, though, did not always return the custom. "Listen, Pilgrim, we've got to talk."

"About Jamie," he stated, hoping to make this conversation go as quickly as possible.

"Well, yeah. About Maureen, too. Broadway and Angela told me what happened at the meeting."

"I am sorry I was rude to her, brother, but she was accusing Jamie of sabotage unjustly."

"Yeah. I know. Pilgrim—brother, sorry—you seem to like that Quarryman a lot."

Pilgrim considered his answer very carefully. Could Brooklyn know? Had someone seen them? "Aye," he said, deciding to give nothing away. But nothing seemed off about Brooklyn's manner.

"That's good. I just want you to know that I trust your judgment. I'm on your side in this."

"Ye are?" Pilgrim had not been expecting that.

"He seems shady to me, I gotta admit, but I you're careful and a good judge of character. Besides, it's not Jamie I'm worried about, it's Maureen."

"I'm sorry, Maureen?"

"You and Maureen, anyway. I think Angela and Broadway should stop attending our meetings with them, and you should start going alone. You're supposed to be the one in charge of introducing them to our culture, and you're letting Angela and Broadway do that instead."

Pilgrim folded his wings and arms defensively. "The humans find them less intimidating. Maureen acts like she hates me and the others are afraid of me."

"I've noticed. So has Angela, to be honest. They like Angela and Broadway because they're good at mimicking human customs and manners, and they also didn't watch them hold a guy at knife-point. Which is totally not your fault, by the way. But they're not getting used to our culture or customs because neither Broadway or Angela ever press the matter. I need them to get to know you because they need to learn about what we're really like. Also, it's just not a good idea for them to be afraid of anyone. They need to be comfortable with all of us."

"I go to their meetings already."

"And hang in the back and talk to Jamie all the time."

"Jamie is my responsibility."

"Well, you can look after him without ignoring Maureen. Or I guess we can have someone else supervise him . . . ."

"Nay!" Pilgrim spoke too quickly and loudly; Brooklyn raised an eyebrow ridge. "I mean, nay, brother. I will do both."

"You're sure? I didn't mean to stick you with spy duty, it just seemed like you worked well with him. Maybe he could benefit from being with other gargoyles, too. Angela said he seems afraid of her and Broadway, and every time I've seen him he looks scared too. I'd like him to get used to us."

"Nay, it's fine. Jamie and I are . . . friends. He trusts me. If ye want him to meet others, I will arrange that. But I would very much like to work with him."

"Okay. That sounds good to me. How about I go with you to the next meeting? We can talk to them about how they can be more polite to you. Why that's important. That sort of thing."

"If you wish, brother."

"Awesome."

Pilgrim's last thought before facing the horizon was that he was pleasantly surprised at how skilled a leader Brooklyn had become.


to be continued!