Author's Note: Once every couple of months sounds like the most feasible update schedule to me. I'm working on several stories at once, including one that won't be posted until it's mostly finished. If you review and beg me for more, however, I tend to work faster.

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's in charge of supervising the spy. Jamie and Pilgrim hooked up by playing a sexy trust game. In this chapter, Pilgrim finally works up the nerve to call Lexington, his former lover who's actually in love with Brooklyn. Jamie delivers some disturbing news about the Quarrymen.

Fandom: Disney's Gargoyles

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

Special Notes: AU with OCs. Not Gary-Stus, just people who I think would make a good story. 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 in Chapter 2. 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.


9. First Signs of a Dastardly Plan


The next night Jamie's text read, There's trouble. Call a meeting.

Pilgrim told Brooklyn, who gave him permission to call the I.R.C. It was the first unplanned, emergency meeting since the clan had joined forces with their human supporters. Maureen, although still unhappy about working with Jamie and Pilgrim, for her part listened with respect. The others followed her lead. There were not many people there, just the several people who were in it from the beginning. Maureen's inner circle.

Jamie faced the group and told them the news. "I was at a rally today." Which was news to Pilgrim. Jamie looked at him apologetically. "It wasn't scheduled. I got the call at five in the morning. I could've called you, I guess, but sun-up was close anyway." That explained the dark circles under Jamie's eyes. Pilgrim wondered whether he should ask Jamie to consider staying home from work after late nights, but then he thought better of it. Such a suggestion would be intrusive and presumptuous. Pilgrim had no claim over how Jamie spent his days. He also let the obvious you should have called me remain unspoken.

"There are a couple things, actually. One's probably a big problem, the other's just weird. First, they know Lex is gone."

Pilgrim narrowed his eyes, and Jamie fidgeted. "I thought they already knew everything about that." Jamie had said he had told them everything, after all, and Pilgrim had assumed he meant Lex's disappearance too. He did not want to have that conversation in front of the I.R.C., but judging by the pained expression Jamie was wearing, he wouldn't have to.

"Not really. I mean, I only told them that he wasn't around, that I never saw him. They kept asking, and that's all I would say. But now they think he's dead, actually. That was the purpose of the rally."

"Dead?"

"Their analysts have been working nonstop lately. They noticed that the clan's tactics for electronic surveillance have changed. Also the Quarrymen's attempts at hacking into your systems are still failing, but for different reasons. So they brought in this hacking expert, right? And he says it's because it's a different person, actually lots of different people. He couldn't find a trace of Lex's usual style. They've dated the disappearance to the night of Goliath's death, so the official story is that Lex was in the explosion, too."

"They think we are more vulnerable than we seem."

"That's because you are," Jamie replied. He glanced nervously at Maureen, who was biting her lip but refrained from comment. Pilgrim gave her a weak smile, grateful that she was keeping her promise to support the trust he put in Jamie. "I mean, they're wrong about Lex being dead, but they've found out your best defense is gone."

Pilgrim considered the news. "They would notice. What do they think of his replacements?" Xanatos had hired a team of what he claimed were the best human computer experts that money could buy, but Lex's peculiar brand of genius was irreplaceable. No one knew that better than Pilgrim.

Jamie shrugged. "It's weird. They know he's good, and they're even willing to admit it. I think Castaway plays down your species' intelligence for the troops, but he obviously thinks Lex is someone to be worried about. He thinks his team has a better chance to beat whoever Xanatos has hired."

Maureen leaned forward. "So what does that mean, exactly? Is he going to attack?"

"He mentioned a new offensive but didn't give any details that made sense. That's the second thing. I'm not sure if he was serious or if he was just trying to get people excited."

"What is it?" Cecil asked.

"He said he found a way to get rid of the clan. That the best way to kill a bunch of supernatural monsters—he thinks you're a heathen witch-doctor, by the way, Pilgrim, it's kind of funny—is to fight fire with fire. He's going to rid the 'New World' of 'Old-World witchcraft' with 'a relic all our own.' He seemed a little . . . off. Normally he makes more sense. A lot of the guys were talking about it later, and no one really knows what he meant."

"That's all he told ye?"

"Yeah, sorry. I was just part of the audience. That's all he said."

"What does this relic have to do with Lex missing?"

"Maybe nothing. Maybe coincidence."

"Doesn't sound like it," Maureen said. "It seems like they've probably suspected Lex of being dead for a while now. There's got to be a reason they waited."

"You might be right. I just don't know. But I've got a suggestion. What if I told them Lex is still around? He's talking to the clan now, right? I could be pretty convincing if I said Angela was talking to him just last night, since I wouldn't really have to lie. I think I could pull it off."

"And ye think this would give them pause? That Lexington is still around?"

"Right. If it's related to their next attack—if they're banking on Lex not being around to do some fancy computer work, say—then maybe they'll delay it or call it off completely."

"Or you'd ruin the surprise advantage that the gargoyles have right now," Maureen countered. "Right now the Quarrymen are underestimating the clan."

"Both could be true," Pilgrim said, trying to avert their disagreement. "I will take the matter to Brooklyn. I will ask Hudson if he knows anything about a relic."

Cecil cleared his throat. "About Lexington. If you're talking to him now, do you have any idea if he'll come back?"

"I do nae know. I am sorry. I am afraid that his absence will cause an attack against your group. If this is true, Brooklyn may feel deception is necessary."


When Pilgrim returned to the eyrie a short time later, most of the clan was away. Hudson was watching television with Bronx at his feet. Pilgrim hovered near the door, debating whether to disturb the elder gargoyle.

"Ye'd best come in lad. Ye're doing no one any good over there."

Pilgrim smirked and joined Hudson. He watched the news ticker on CNN for a while before Hudson broke the silence. "Brooklyn told me about yer Quarryman's news about Lexington. It would be easier, ye know. With Lexington back."

"Aye, probably."

Hudson flipped from a report on terrorist activity to a cooking show. A cheerful, plump human female was making omelettes.

"Would ye call him? If ye were in my place?" Pilgrim asked.

Hudson muted the television and turned his undivided attention toward Pilgrim. "Me? No. I have a stubborn streak a mile wide. Goliath was the same way. As Brooklyn is. Ye're different. I always liked ye because ye're so damned reasonable. Listen, lad. I cannae tell ye what to do. But ye like fairness and justice. So does Lexington. Ye're both so worried about offending the other that neither of ye will make the next move. So I guess I am saying that if I were ye, I would do what is best for the clan. And for the human we're protecting. And nay, before ye ask, I don't know a damned thing about a relic. That's more yer thing, isn't it? Religion and magic and all that?"

"Aye. Thank ye for thinking about it, anyway."

"Good. Now ye can either stay here and pretend to enjoy this 'Paula Deen,' or ye can call the lad already. I have a guess at what ye think is the right thing to do."

Pilgrim hated that Hudson was right. But so it was. That was why, shortly before midnight, he was hiding in Lex's old office staring at the "call" button on his phone.

If he begged Lexington to come back, then Lex would come. Lex was accommodating like that. Accommodation was what had caused all their problems in the first place, and Pilgrim did not want that. Lexington was polite and permissive. Pilgrim could not remember a single argument they'd had. Lexington and Brooklyn fought all the time.

Pilgrim threw the phone across the room. After a few minutes of well-deserved brooding, he retrieved the phone and left the castle. He glided toward Jamie's apartment building, feeling slightly foolish.

The window, as usual, was not locked. He slipped inside and knocked on the bedroom door. That Jamie always kept the door closed, even when alone in his one-bedroom flat, had puzzled him at first. Jamie explained that it was a habit he'd formed during college when he had shared a house with dozens of men. Frat boys, he'd explained, and then told stories about his brothers with delight. It was almost like a clan, Pilgrim had decided.

"Jamie?" he called to let the human know it was him. Of course, no one else would be knocking on his bedroom door in the middle of the night. Pilgrim supposed so, anyway.

After a few moments, he heard a groggy voice say, "Pilgrim? What's wrong? Come in."

Pilgrim opened the door to find Jamie sitting up in bed, shirtless and rubbing his eyes. "Nothing is wrong," he said, taking a moment to enjoy the view of Jamie's bare chest. "Well, no emergency. May I join ye?"

Jamie beckoned him to the bedside, and Pilgrim climbed in to lay beside him. "What happened?"

Pilgrim was not sure what to say. He wanted to tell the truth; they he had felt lonely, unwanted, and bitter, and the only person capable of making him feel better was Jamie. He also wanted to say "I missed you" and possibly "I cannot stop thinking about you." But Jamie had never said anything like that to him, and here Pilgrim was on shaky ground. He had never said such words to anyone. He had known all along that Lexington would never return those sentiments; this uncertainty about Jamie's feelings was new.

Jamie was an unknown. He did not know whether tender words would bring him closer or push him apart.

Jamie must have felt his hesitation because he encircled Pilgrim's waist in his arms. "It's all right. You don't have to explain."

"Jamie, will it be more dangerous for the I.R.C. now that the Quarrymen think Lexington is dead? I want yer opinion. Away from the others. Just between us."

Jamie kissed his cheek tenderly. "Yes. I think so."

Pilgrim sighed. "Then I must call him."

Jamie squeezed his hand. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

Yes, Pilgrim realized. He wanted Jamie beside him, even for this, even if it meant explaining their awkward history to his lover. But perhaps it would not come to that.

Jamie reached into Pilgrim's belt pocket and took the phone. Before Pilgrim could protest, Jamie pulled up the short contacts list and called Lexington.

Pilgrim pulled out of Jamie's loose embrace and panicked. Jamie was holding the phone to his ear, but Pilgrim could hear Lex's distinct voice say, "Hello?"

Memories of long nights spent on patrol with his kinsman rushed unexpectedly at him. Pilgrim tried to speak, but his voice caught on a vision of Lexington turning in the moonlight to smile at him. This is what he did not want to face, and suddenly Pilgrim hoped Lexington would never come back.

Jamie handed the phone to Pilgrim without saying a word. Pilgrim reluctantly took it.

"Pilgrim?" The voice was hard to read, purposefully guarded.

"Lex."

"Hi."

Pilgrim pinched the bridge of his nose and cursed both Hudson and Jamie. This was not a good idea. "Lex, we . . . I need to talk to ye."

"I know. I'm really glad you called." But Lex did not sound happy; he sounded sad. More accurately, he sounded accommodating.

"I almost did not," he admitted. "Lex, the clan needs your help."

"Wait, what? You're not calling about . . . anything personal?"

"Nay. I am sorry. I . . . I have much to say to ye. But not tonight."

"Okay, first of all, I'm not coming back."

"Lex, it's the Quarrymen. We need ye to help. They know ye are gone."

"You've got replacements. I picked them out myself. They're fine."

"The Quarrymen do nae think so. I have a way to get information about them. We think they may attack humans because ye are not around to coordinate. They think we are vulnerable."

"So you've got them at a disadvantage. The team Xanatos hired is good, I promise, no matter what Castaway thinks."

"That is what Maureen said."

"Who's Maureen?"
"She . . . a human. It does nae matter. Lex, I have respected yer decision to leave. But I think there is danger for people in this. Humans."

Pilgrim listened to Lexington's breath. He tensed, and he could feel Jamie hug him from behind, his chin resting on the gargoyle's shoulder next to his folded wing.

"I didn't know that," Lex said at last. "I'll ask Xanatos to set up a remote link. Trick them into thinking I'm there, okay? But I'm not coming back. I like it here. I fit in here."

It was a struggle not to beg, but Lex had given him enough. "Aye. Yer choice, like I said. Ye are welcome to come home. Always. Or ye are welcome to stay there. It is yer choice, and I will nae stop either."

"Pilgrim, thank you. Thanks for calling. I don't like not being able to talk to you. Can I ask you something?"

"Aye."

"How is Brooklyn?" Pilgrim nearly crushed the phone in his hand. Jamie feathered his shoulder with a few slow, silent kisses, responding to his obvious stress. Lex continued, "Is he mad at me?"

Lex was young. Sometimes Pilgrim forgot that because Lex was smarter than anyone he'd ever met. The childlike worry in the question summoned the barely-forgotten jealousy that Pilgrim had put aside since Lex had gone. "Ask him yerself."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ask that. It's just . . . I can't ask anyone else. You're the only one who knows everything, who gets it. And I can't talk to him. He'll do his 'I'm disappointed in you' routine he picked up from Goliath and Hudson. I couldn't take it."

"If ye've disappointed him, Lexington, ye deserve to hear it. And he deserves to say it."

"I can't believe you just said that."

"Ye can't expect me to be on yer side forever."

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I know it's my fault. I don't know how to fix it. Tell me how, and I'll do it. Anything. Do you want me to come back? Is that what it would take?"

"Nay." It was an immediate response, almost a denial. Pilgrim let it hang in the air. He did want Lexington back, but he didn't want what they'd had before. In fact, he realized, what he wanted had no part in this conversation. "Do nothing for my sake. The clan is struggling without yer help, but if ye can provide it from your Detroit, then we will cope. Ye're happy there. Stay there. I . . . think it is best we do nae talk again. It is nae the same for me as it is for ye. I get no joy from this." It hurt still, but Pilgrim wouldn't know how to say that even if Jamie weren't sitting next to him. "Good luck, Lexington. Talk to Xanatos. Good night."

He hung up before Lexington could respond and leaned back against Jamie's chest. "I caught most of that," Jamie told him, his hand traveling down to unbuckle Pilgrim's armor. "If Lexington will work remotely, I'll make sure they know when to be looking for his handiwork."

"I will ask Brooklyn his opinion, and I will suggest to him the wisdom of deceiving the Quarrymen about Lexington's presence here."

"It's not really deception. Just showing one of your cards."

"Cards?"

"Game metaphor. Poker. Means revealing information."

Pilgrim hummed and digested the new bit of slang. "Is there anything else ye did nae tell the I.R.C.? That ye will tell me?"

"No. Well, there is one thing. You know how I said Castaway seemed off? It's not new; it's just gotten worse. The guys and I were talking about it, and we think he seems crazy. Like he's slowly losing his mind or something. Just little things, the way he talks about the world. Some people are losing confidence in him. Not really in his message, just in him. I think some people want a change in management."

"Some people?"

"Yeah."

"Who?"

Jamie hesitated. "I don't want to tell you that."

Pilgrim shrugged off his chest-piece and pulled Jamie away from the headboard onto his back. Pilgrim lay beside him and kissed the human's soft nipples, running his tongue gently across the pink flesh. Jamie hissed and bucked his hips.

"I don't . . . wow . . . I don't think you're in danger from not knowing," Jamie explained between moans as Pilgrim sucked and nipped at sensitive places on Jamie's torso.

"That's fine," Pilgrim replied. He would not force the human to tell him anything. When Jamie realized that talking was not particularly high on Pilgrim's agenda, he relaxed and let Pilgrim enjoy himself.


To be continued! Comments are always appreciated.