Wings

New Acquaintances – The First Chapter

Brooklyn stretched and shook the last bits of stone from his body as the last rays of the sun winked out one by one behind the spires and towers that made up the horizon of lower Manhattan Island. His bat-like wings spread to their full extent, reaching out as if to gather the whole of the world in his grasp, then caped about his shoulders while he drew himself out of the lassitude of sun forced sleep.

As was his custom, he made a quick visual sweep of the aerie Building in order to assure himself that all was as it should be. The familiarity of the stone walls and parapets was comforting as his eyes sought out each of the members of the clan in turn. Goliath, having just dropped the short distance from his roost on the highest tower, was also in the process of surveying their ancestral home and reassuring himself that naught had gone wrong during the day. He grinned as Bronx tackled Hudson, the old-timer wobbling under the unexpected assault, then watched as they headed once again to the TV room. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Lexington's tail disappearing down the stairwell that led to the computer room. Humph. Prob'ly wants to check his mail before we go on patrol. The white headed gargoyle chuckled softly to himself at his rookery brother's obsession with modern technology, but the laughter died in his throat as his gazed touched upon the spot where Broadway and Angela stood in the midst of a tender embrace, and he quickly averted his eyes.

His eyes clenched tight as pain blossomed in his chest. Taloned feet shuffled the many fragments of stone that lay scattered in various piles across the stone battlements. He heaved a great sigh and hung his head in defeat. It wasn't that he was angry at Angela or upset with her in any way for choosing Broadway over him, he'd long ago reconciled himself to the fact that it was her choice and her right to choose. In fact, when he wasn't feeling sorry for himself, he was happy for his rookery brother. But it still hurt. Just as it had hurt when Maggie had turned away from him in fear and rejection so long ago. He purposely kept himself from thinking about Demona. That was one place in his memory he'd rather keep locked up for good. If this kept up he figured he wouldn't have much left of his heart but tattered shreds. The sounds of their city, their home, filtered up through the clouds in a dull roar much like the one in the back of his head. He had often wondered about exactly why it hurt so much–

"Brooklyn!" Goliath's voice cut into his reverie, effectively severing the line of thought his wayward mind was following. "You take the south side. Tonight we'll test and see if we can properly keep in contact with each other using the new communication devices Xanatos provided for us. The others already have their assignments for the night. As soon as Elisa arrives–"

"As soon as I arrive what?"

Goliath too was cut off as the raven headed detective sauntered out of a shadowed doorway.

The ramparts echoed with the glad greeting of the gargoyles, as Elisa was enveloped in the winged embrace of their leader. The clan quieted as the pair drew apart, and the particular significance of this night's patrol once again surfaced in the minds of all gathered.

Elisa's brow knit in an expression of concern as she gave voice to the thought lingering in the back of everyone's mind.

"I don't mean to be a worry wart or anything, but are you really sure about this? I know it's been a while, but are you really and truly ready to trust Xanatos with something of this nature?"

"Elisa," Goliath replied in an almost reproachful, yet characteristically tender voice, "Although I fully understand your concern, you must admit that in the nearly two and a half years since Xanatos returned our home to us, he has given us absolutely no reason to distrust him or his motives. In fact he has been nothing short of a good friend. And you know as well as I do that for my kind to survive in this world we will need all the friends we can get. And—"

"And a friend you can't let yourself trust little better than an enemy. I know." The clans oldest friend from their new home shook her head lightly in a gesture of resigned acceptance. "And you're right Goliath. I guess I just have a little trouble with trust at times. Comes from being a cop I suppose."

Brooklyn didn't think that Elisa's hesitancy to trust Xanatos stemmed entirely from her career. Especially considering the fact that he shared much of her doubt. For although the clan had certainly accepted help from Xanatos on previous occasions, it was usually involve something that was of such extreme importance.

Tonight would mark the first time they had accepted something Xanatos had given them that wasn't visibly within his best interests.

However, with the Quarrymen growing almost unchecked, they were up against a wall. Even the nightly patrol getting risky, but Goliath insisted that they continue. Just because they weren't always wanted, didn't mean that they weren't needed still. That was why they needed a better com-system. Only two nights ago they had been ambushed when the Quarrymen had tapped into their com signals. Xanatos offered to provide a newer state of the art system with all kinds of scramblers and shieldings.

Brooklyn wasn't too sure of the specifics himself, but Lexington had rambled on about the new features for almost an hour before he had realized that no one was really listening. One of the few things that the redskin had understood, however, had given him cause for concern. Apparently each unit of the communications system was directly linked to a main console, that would remain here in the castle. From this Master Console, a person could control how contact was established and maintained between units as well as utilizing pinpoint tracking capabilities for each and every linked device. Brooklyn worried about Xanatos' ability to resist the obvious manipulative possibilities.

In any case, the moon was rising and it was time to get going.

——

One after another, great shadows detached themselves from the roof of the skyscraper and soared off into the winter night. Detective Matt Bluestone watched from the street below as they wheeled off to different parts of the city. He grinned wistfully as he waited for his partner to return so that they too could begin their patrol of the city.

As a warm updraft caught his wings and buoyed him closer to the moon, Brooklyn closed his eyes and allowed the sounds and even the smells floating up from the city below to sink into his consciousness.

Presently, one noise distinguished itself from the others and drew his attention. A faint, but insistent cry for help, born on the relatively warm gusts of air rising from the bustling city streets below him sent him spiraling out of the sky and sweeping into an alleyway where his eyes met with an all too familiar sight.

A young woman was backed up against a wall as three of the city's upstanding thugs advanced, brandishing chains and switchblades. Without hesitation, Brooklyn threw himself into the thug nearest the girl, slamming him forcefully into the brick wall just above a convenient dumpster. The young gargoyle had always harbored a certain fondness for putting trash where it belonged. He then landed and advanced on the would-be muggers that remained. True to form they did not remain long. Faced with a superior force the punks turned tail ran, looking like ghosts that had had an unfortunate accident in an electrical supply store.

As the goons disappeared around the corner, Brooklyn eased out of his offensive stance and wearily turned to face their intended victim. Here it comes. He braced himself for the inevitable reaction. Ya' know, I think I'm getting tired of being called a monster by people I just helped. But as his eyes met those of the girl still leaning up against the far wall of the ally, he was surprised to see that though her eyes were widened, it was not in fear or hatred as expected, but in wonder, amazement and even what seemed to be excitement. Nonplussed, he could do no more than stand and blink as she peeled herself off the brick and took a hesitant step in his direction.

"You're a gargoyle."

There was no hint of condemnation or accusation in the softly spoken statement, instead a note of wonder could be detected. A wary reply was given.

"Yeah. I'm a gargoyle."

"And your not a monster."

That one set him back a moment. Hearing the familiar, hated word in a negating statement from a total stranger was something he was so unaccustomed to that it took a moment to really sink in. Also slightly confusing was the strange, full quality of her voice, as though something was about to overflow. . .

"No, I'm not a monster."

Her whole face lit up and a wide grin flashed over white teeth for a split second before an ecstatic shout rang through the alley.

"I knew it!!!"

Brooklyn stumbled and froze in shock, his wings half spread, for with her exultant cry, the girl had literally launched herself at the completely unprepared gargoyle, latching her arms around his neck in a quintessential glomp*.

She continued to babble excitedly, all the while still holding him in a near choke hold. Despite his dazed stupor, Brooklyn managed to make out bits and pieces of her strange ramblings. "I knew it!" was decidedly repetitive, but he also caught bits like ". . .not crazy. . ." and ". . .sooo incredible. . ."

After a few minutes the mania seemed to wear off, and her slight form dropped lightly to the ground. As she backed off slightly Brooklyn's knees finally gave way beneath him, unceremoniously dumping him into a seated position.

It was her turn to blink in surprise at her companion. Concerned, she knelt down so that she was just below eye level.

"Are you alright? Did you get hurt by those jerks?"

Brooklyn snapped back to reality with the query.

"What, them? No way punks like those could get me. I'm fine. You just kind of startled me. I'm not exactly used to that kind of reaction."

"Oh." Even in the dark alley he could see the blush darkening her cheeks.

"It's just that… I've always loved the idea of gargoyles. I've wanted to meet one for as long as I can remember. I'm sorry if I offended you."

"Don't be. It's kind of a nice change now that I think about it. What's–"

He stopped short as the sound of approaching footsteps intruded.

"Over here Officer! One of them monsters attacked us, I swear!"

"Shit. The punks squealed." His voice dripped with disgust at the hypocrisy even as he leapt to his feet and prepared to climb the walls so he could reach a takeoff point.

"Wait!!"

The girl had also stood and was now clutching his arm. "Please. I know you can't stay here but at least tell me how I can see you again!"

Pausing for only a moment to see the look of near desperation in her eyes, he swung her up onto his back.

"Hold on." Remembering her surprising strength from earlier he wryly added, ". . .just. . . not too tight."

As the red gargoyle found(made) his first clawhold in the wall, he noticed her arms carefully tighten around his neck and felt a pair of legs rise to grip his waist. Her face was buried in his shoulder.

Once her was high enough on the building he spread his wings and launched himself into the night. The grip on his waist and neck tightened, but not uncomfortably so. He did wonder how the girl could breathe though, the way her nose was jammed into his shoulder.

After soaring about twenty-five blocks distance from the mugging incident, he lit on one of the taller buildings and crouched down so his passenger could disembark. When she continued to maintain her grip on him for several minutes he decided to venture a suggestion.

"Um. . . you can get down now."

Her head shot up at his words. After a bit of a scramble he found himself once again facing her, though this time she had a slightly sheepish look on her face.

"Sorry."

"Are you afraid of hights?"

"No."

". . .then. . .what was that about?"

"I'm not afraid of hights. I'm afraid of falling. From high places that do not have railings and/or glass walls or some other type of protective barrier."

". . .That makes sense."

"I think so."

Conversation petered out at this point, leaving one of those annoyingly uncomfortable silences, until Brooklyn remember the question he had been about to ask when he was interrupted by the return of the punks.

"What is your name, anyway? I was going to ask earlier but there were a couple of distractions. My name's Brooklyn by the way."

"I'm glad I have something to call you besides just Gargoyle." She grinned and her nose crinkled. "My name is Alida Gabrielle Sinead McCullough."

". . ."

She laughed softly at the slightly perplexed look on his face. "But you can call me Gaby."

__________________________

Don't Kill Me!!!!

Yes I am leaving the first chapter there. I swear on my soul that If I do indeed continue, I will have the next chapter up within a couple of weeks. (Sorry I can't promise any sooner, but I have other things that I do with my life and a case of almost perpetual writers block.(actually it's more like perfectionists constipation…^_^;))

I will need positive reviews to persuade me to continue. I'm not going to spend waaaay to much time eeking this out if it's no good.

Also…*^_^*…did anyone notice the Peter Pan-ish scene?

Also If anyone wants me to give the meaning of some of the words I use, just tell me.(I know full well that I talk like I swallowed a Dictionary. *sigh* o.o;)

Tanks.

Whyndancer.

January, 03, 2003.

Hiiiii!!! *waves madly*

I have made a few editorial changes with this update, a bit more explanation, clarification, some grammatical correction, etc.

Brownie points if you can figure out what's different!

Whyndancer.