Disclaimer: Still not mine. Still wish they were…
PREVIOUSLY ON GARGOYLES…
He held up a small flier. "I've already made contact with leaders of small committees such as this one. I know you're already familiar with the P.I.T. Crew. I've been able to get a hold of leaders in four other small groups such as these around the globe - including a few residents of a town in Japan called Ishimura. I believe you've met them before as well." She nodded. "I intend to help fund their organizations. They might be small now, but given time they can become the arms and legs of this project."
The police woman raised an eyebrow. "You're really serious about this," she stated quietly.
Xanatos regarded her with a strangely calm expression. "Up until this point," he said lowly, "I don't think I've ever been more serious about anything. I owe them so much, Detective. I owe YOU as much."
-----
"Just a minute!" he called, once again redirecting his chair. Reaching the door, he opened it to find, not his sister, but three figures in trenchcoats. He recognized none of them. "Yes?" he asked skeptically. "What can I do for you?"
The man closest peered out from under his hat with a sort of half smirk. "You are Jason Canmore?" he asked.
Looking wary, the man in the wheelchair nodded his head.
"Then the question is," the other grinned, "what can WE do for YOU?"
--
"I. Am. Not. Interested. Good bye." That said, he lashed out with an umbrella that leaned on the wall near the entrance and caught the figure supporting the door across the face. There was a cry of pain and the person pulled back, leaving Jason free to shut and lock it.
He had to wheel away almost immediately as the door was thrown off its hinges.
Sevarius stepped forward with a malicious smile. "I'm afraid," he hissed, "that you're not being given the option of refusal."
-----
"Where. Are. You. From?" she asked dangerously.
"A-Avalon…" the frightened gargoyle replied, truthfully enough.
Demona's whole demeanor changed instantly. At first she seemed surprised, and she lowered the rifle from its position at his neck. "Avalon…?" she whispered. "You are one of the clan's children? Like Angela?"
The white gargoyle raised an eyebrow. "You know of Angela?"
"Yes, she… visits me occasionally," she grabbed his arm, leading him over to the sofa. "But come, you must think rather terribly of me. I apologize. I've become rather… paranoid… as of late." She sat him down and he watched her with nervous eyes. "I don't think I quite caught your name," she added to his great disappointment.
He thought quickly. He couldn't tell her he was the Magus, but that was the only name he had used since Prince Malcolm had given him his position. He knew if he mentioned the name he'd had as a boy she'd probably recognize that too. She'd been near the Archmage enough. Names ran through his head at an alarming rate. What could he possibly...
"A-Alfred," he said suddenly. "My name is Alfred."
-PROPOSITIONS-
CHAPTER 3: SUBMISSION
They pulled to a stop in front of an old abandoned warehouse. It obviously hadn't seen use in ages, and was not even marked as property of Xanatos Enterprises. Robyn felt mildly disappointed. As far as secret operations bases went, this was terribly cliché.
She mentioned as much to Owen, who merely chuckled lightly. "Really, Miss Canmore. A secret base of operations? We're not a Russian spy unit."
"That's not what we're here for?" she asked, feeling a bit let down but relieved at the same time. "That was the idea I'd received from your message earlier."
Owen's smirk widened. "When I said I'd be taking you out to a place where we store everything you'd need for your new career? What about that registered as 'Super Secret Hidden Spy Base?'"
Robyn stepped out of the car, ignoring his humored expression. "Har har." She was soon joined by Xanatos' still smiling right-hand man, who led both of them into the partially demolished building.
"Actually," the man continued, "This particular building is a rather recent acquisition of Mr. Xanatos'. Its previous owner had left it abandoned for a couple years and didn't seem to have any need for it. I believe Mr. Xanatos was rather fond of its view of the harbor."
Robyn took a quick glance back at the seedy district behind her and found the beauty in it to be somewhat lacking.
After a few flips of the light switch it soon became apparent that the lights were no longer functioning. With a slight frown, Owen pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and continued to lead her further back. Apparently, the idea that they'd be traveling in darkness had crossed his mind before he came here.
"I'll make sure to get those fixed," he muttered, even though Robyn had made no complaint.
From what she could see of the place by the surprisingly strong glow of Owen's flashlight, she figured it had to have at one point been the scene of some sort of gun fight. It hadn't been fought with any normal handguns either. The scorch marks running up and across several of the support pillars had obviously been made by laser rifles. Many of the crates that remained, even, had been burnt mostly to cinders. And then there were those claw marks on the beams…
"Mr. Burnett," she asked in a hushed voice, "There were gargoyles in here fighting someone at one point, weren't there."
The blonde man didn't turn around to face her, but continued walking. "Yes. A few years ago. Not long after they first awoke here, actually. It was a particularly nasty affair involving the mob boss Tony Dracon and a few stolen bits of particle beam weaponry."
She took another careful look at the destruction. "None of them were… killed… in this incident?" she asked.
This time Owen did turn around, and gave her a curious glance. "No, Miss Canmore. None of them were killed."
They continued the walk in silence until Owen came to a stop in front of two large objects covered in thick black sheets. Here he raised the light to the ceiling, illuminating a thin chain hanging above his head. "Ah," he said. "These should work."
Pulling the chain caused that small area to be lit by the few functioning lights above. Robyn squinted her eyes, allowing them to readjust to the now brighter room. Besides the two covered objects, there was nothing else of interest here – just several more empty crates.
"Here you are," Owen was saying. "These here were designed by Professor MacDuff himself. They should be relatively simple to operate."
Before she had the opportunity to ask what he meant by that, the blonde man had removed the covering from one of them, and her question was answered. The covered items were in fact vehicles – hover vehicles to be exact. At least that's what they appeared to be. They bore little resemblance to the ones she and her brother had used as Hunters, but she recognized the design nonetheless.
These were apparently ridden while standing. It was a rather dangerous method of riding, but she supposed it allowed for much more maneuverability on the part of the driver. She approached them slowly, inspecting the operating mechanism at the front. It again was nothing like she was used to, but Owen was right in saying the design would be easy to follow.
"Professor MacDuff designed these?" she asked after a few more moments of intense scrutiny.
Owen adjusted his glasses a bit. "Yes, madam," he replied. "Designed and built, I believe. Mr. MacDuff is somewhat of a wizard when it comes to modern machinery."
Robyn raised an eyebrow and muttered a low "I'll bet" as she looked for the ignition. "Do these work at the moment?"
"They require a key."
Looking up, she found Owen holding up his stone hand – where a small key dangled from a cord around his wrist. "I suggest first, however," he lowered his arm, "That you take a look at something else." He approached one of the crates that she'd assumed was empty earlier, and brought out something wrapped in the same dark cloth as the hover vehicles. He then unwrapped it and held it out for her to take.
He watched as she turned the device over in her hands. "It's a highly concentrated energy gun – more commonly referred to by Mr. MacDuff as his 'lightning weapon.'"
"An energy gun?" asked Robyn.
"Yes." The man carefully refolded the black material into a square. "It's a particular favorite of the Professor's. I believe he was hoping you could take a look at it – help him with an upgrade, if you will."
Robyn was still in awe of the gun's mechanics, so it was in a hushed voice that she replied "Yeah… Sure. I'd be happy to check it over."
Focused as she was on the weapon in front of her, she missed the small satisfied smirk on Owen's face. With his good hand, he removed the small key from his wrist and held it out to her. After a pause, she exchanged the key for the gun.
"Guess I'll have to check this baby out then," she said with a smile, and stepped gently up onto the small hovercraft.
Owen's eyes widened all of a sudden, as if he had remembered something (or had stepped in something rather unpleasant – with Owen you never could tell) and he held out his hand as an indication that she should stop. "Wait," he said. "There was one other thing the Professor wanted you to take a look at."
Robyn raised an eyebrow, unwilling at the moment to step down off her new perch. The bespectacled man searched around for a moment before he pulled a larger crate out from the bottom of a stack of three. Opening it up, he then pulled out what appeared to be an outfit of some sort. He unfolded it, and held it up for her inspection.
"Mr. MacDuff though you might find this comfortable," he said with something of a smug expression.
The former Hunter gawked. "You've GOT to be kidding me."
+ + + + + + + + + +
Demona watched with interest as the white gargoyle's original fear of her slowly melted into curiosity at his new surroundings. She watched as his eyes slowly strayed around the room, though it was obvious he was trying to be polite and make it look like they weren't. The numerous items she had collected over the millennia were enough to catch anyone's eye, much less those of someone who'd never seen anything outside of the tenth century.
She watched this with both satisfaction and dread. On the one hand, the fact that she was the first gargoyle he had met in Manhattan meant that she would be able to tell him the truths of the world before Goliath got his overly sentimental talons on him. The unfortunate side to this was that it made her responsible for catching him up-to-date with the present year, a task she thoroughly dreaded. Explaining the intricacies of every appliance in her household was NOT something she was looking forward to in any way shape or form.
For a moment, she considered just dropping the new gargoyle on Xanatos' doorstep anyway just to save herself the trouble.
The thought didn't last long. No, she wasn't going to give up what might be her last opportunity.
"Am I correct in assuming," she began, "that this is your first time away from Avalon?"
This question seemed to take him by surprise, startling him a bit. He made a lovely effort at stuttering before he could respond. "Uh…no. I mean, yes! – No, I've never been away from Avalon before…"
Demona gave him her most disarming smile as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, trying to retain his dignity. "You seem nervous," she said. "There's no reason for you to be afraid."
This didn't seem to calm the other gargoyle much, but he did try to return her smile. She noticed with some amusement, however, that he had clasped his hands together nervously under the table.
"You'll have to forgive me," he answered. "It's just that the last time I saw you, you were firing a… laser? Wasn't it? …at my, er, brothers and sisters."
The expression on Demona's face shifted immediately into one of genuine pained regret. The Magus found himself somewhat taken aback, realizing that this was the first truthful expression she'd had since she pulled the gun on him when he arrived. Noticing his gaze, she turned her head away slightly.
"In that case, it's me you'll have to forgive." She glanced down at her hands, now curled together on the table in front of her. "Trust me when I say I was not myself when that happened. I would never fire unprovoked at any gargoyle I'd never seen. Not with our numbers being so few."
"The Weird Sisters had you under a spell," he said quietly. "I know. Still… you have to admit it's a bit awkward."
What was more awkward than that, in all reality, was the silence that followed. Both of them averted their eyes from each other, and the Magus glanced almost longingly towards the glass doorway he had entered from. For a few moments they merely sat and said nothing.
It was Demona who eventually decided to break through the barricade. She rose to her feet so fast that the Magus nearly fell backwards out of his chair in his surprise.
"I could take you on a tour of the city," she said, "…get you in tune with the way the world runs nowadays." She hazarded a smile. "Surely you're dying to know all about it."
The white gargoyle did look interested, though the nervousness had not left him in the slightest bit. "That… sounds like something to do," he answered, believing that it would most definitely be in his best interests to agree. Seeing Demona cheerful was a much more likable option then seeing her aiming at him with a particle beam weapon. His expression brightened. "Yes, I think I would like that."
--
There wasn't as much of the night left as she would have preferred. Their venture could last no longer than a couple hours before they would have to head back to her manor.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye as they glided towards the outskirts of the city. It was interesting to note that he seemed to be having some difficulties with the wind currents. She supposed the atmosphere was very different from the one he was used to back on Avalon.
"These…buildings," he began murmuring. "They ARE buildings, aren't they?"
She nodded.
"Do people… live in them?"
"Some of them."
His eyes took in the whole area dazedly. She hoped he was paying enough attention to where he was flying.
"There isn't much farmland around here, is there…" he continued to mutter, and she wasn't sure if he was asking her a question or just talking to himself. "Is this all the…city? Where do the people go? What do they do here? Who's in charge of everything? Do the buildings ever fall over…?"
Demona sighed, trying to remember if she still had aspirin back at her manor.
"Why is everything built so straight and boxed shaped?" he went on.
"Because humans are lazy and that's the easiest to build," Demona muttered irritably. He seemed to not have heard her, and she swooped lower to the ground to try and get his mind back on gliding and away from questions.
So when he gave an ecstatic "What's THAT??" and headed in the opposite direction she felt like ripping her own hair out.
"Stop, Alfred!" she called after him. "Where are you going?"
Her eyes caught sight of where he was heading to all too late. There was a woman standing on the top of a nearby building looking through the lens of a large telescope, and her new gargoyle companion seemed to see no trouble at all with gliding in and taking a better look.
"Alfred, get back here!"
The woman, a short haired brunette in ovular spectacles, gasped and took a step back as the Magus landed on the roof in front of her. "What IS that?" he asked, pointing to the telescope. The woman's nervousness seemed completely lost on him.
She was about to respond when Demona alighted and scowled at her. She took a couple more steps back as the angry gargoyle turned her attention to her elated new acquaintance. "What are you DOING?" she hissed. "I don't know what you've been taught, but you don't just go wandering up and introducing yourself to random humans!"
The Magus' wings drooped. "But..!"
"I-it's all right!" the woman suddenly interrupted. The glare she received from Demona almost kept her from continuing, but she went on. "It's a… a telescope. Y-you can look through it if you want to."
"I don't remember asking you for permission, human..." Demona began.
"Really??" the Magus asked, eyes lighting up in excitement.
The woman nodded, seemingly pleased to make the gargoyle happy.
Demona's eyes went red in anger, but seeing her companion already kneeling before the telescope she sighed and tried to keep herself calm. It wasn't as though a peek through it could hurt much.
She kept a close watch on the human female. She despised gargoyle supporters. She felt as though they were being treated like some cute endangered species that needed protection. Gargoyles needed no such thing – especially not from the same race that had been responsible for them becoming "endangered" in the first place.
A gasp in the direction of the telescope brought her attention back to Alfred. He'd had to get down on one knee to make himself the same height as the woman. She almost snickered as his reaction to the device. He kept pulling his head away from the telescope, then looking back in the lens, then pulling away again.
"Demona," he asked, voice somewhat shaken, "is that… the castle??"
The red-headed gargoyle's eyes widened immediately, and she shoved the Magus away from the telescope. Bending down a bit, she took his place and gazed through the lens. It was not, as she had thought, focused on any array of stars, but to the Eyrie building and what it held atop it. Growling to herself, she realized she should have known this. Her own experience taught her that the New York skyline was too well lit to see many stars at night.
"You! Human!" she spun around, prepared to rip the woman to shreds –
Only to find that she was no longer there.
In the moment she had taken to focus her attention on the telescope, the woman had apparently run off. No doubt she realized Demona wouldn't be pleased with what she'd really been viewing.
"Idiot human," Demona spat. "How dare she spy on – "
"Can we… can we go there?" a hesitant voice asked. The blue gargoyle looked towards her feet. The Magus was still sitting where she had knocked him down. His blue eyes were wide and expectant.
A long sigh was his only reply. Demona's heart sank. Of course he would want to go there. It's not as though she could have hidden the place from him for very long – not when it was the tallest building in the city. She needed to keep him from there somehow…
Luck must have been with her, at least this once. Looking up at the position of the moon, she realized they honestly didn't have the time to visit the castle, unless he wanted to spend the day there.
"Not…tonight," she answered him. She saw his distraught reaction but went on. "It's nearly dawn and you're going – WE'RE going to have to head back to a protected place to rest."
His eyes seemed to widen a bit as that realization struck him. "Oh! That's right…" he answered distractedly.
Despite her urgings to do otherwise, Demona left the telescope in one piece. Leaping off the building, she had to wait a moment as Alfred straightened himself out and followed her. He seemed more subdued than he had been, and she didn't like that.
The whole flight back he said nothing. He was disturbingly silent. Not one question about his new surroundings. He didn't even ask about her confrontation with the human woman they'd left behind. He was completely absorbed in his thoughts.
(He'll be wanting to see the castle, of course,) Demona thought with a sigh. (It's not exactly like I can easily stop him either. Not without making myself out to be worse than I already have.)
They said nothing to each other as they landed on the porch. Demona opened the sliding glass and let them inside, still watching her companion.
(I'll bet anything he's been raised on tales of Goliath's 'greatness') she seethed. (What am I supposed to say? 'Everything you've ever been taught is a lie? Humans are a plague upon the earth?')
She watched as Alfred looked at her uncertainly. He probably wondered where the best place to perch was. She motioned distractedly towards the closest empty room.
"It will be safer inside," she said. "This building doesn't exactly look like the place you would normally see gargoyle statues outside."
The white gargoyle nodded and made his way in the direction she pointed.
(He was raised by humans, for crying out loud!) She wearily flopped down in her favorite chair. (After the way I've acted already, there's not way he'll believe me over them.) She'd tried it with Angela. She was her own daughter and she'd been unsuccessful. There was a point in time when she would have jumped at the opportunity. Now she wasn't sure if it was even worth it.
She put her head in her hands, wondering silently what she'd gotten herself into.
"I'm so tired of this," she muttered, just as the sun peaked over the horizon.
+ + + + + + + + + +
Jason Canmore awoke to one of the most unpleasant sounds it is possible for anyone to wake up to. At first it confused him, because he couldn't make out what it was. He thought perhaps he might be dreaming – and if so he'd better get up soon.
After it became apparent that he wasn't dreaming at all, he brought his head up from the floor where he'd been laying, and tried to discern where the horrendous noise was coming from.
He realized after he did so that he was in a cell of some sort. It was an odd sort of holding pen, with walls that couldn't have been made with anything other then a thick plexiglass. An interesting sort of speaker molded into one of the walls allowed him to hear almost everything going on outside. Though at the moment, he wished he'd been rendered deaf.
He soon spotted the source of his irritation. Not more than ten feet in front of him, there was a large sofa. It was a horribly ugly thing in sort of an olive green color with a great deal of wear and tear. One of his captors was sitting in the middle of it with an arm flung over the back.
It was the female cyborg. And the noise that had been bothering him so much was the high pitched sound of her laughter. She was obviously amused by whatever she was watching on the television in front of her. Jason didn't think anyone should even be capable of making such a sound.
He raised himself carefully into a sitting position. He was a bit surprised that he hadn't been bound in any way, but given his confinement and how there were probably two half-robotic beings guarding him, he figured they probably didn't think it necessary.
Thankfully, after a few moments the laughter settled down to a chuckle and became infinitely more bearable. The reason for this was the scientist that had just stepped out of a hallway to his right, clad in a bathrobe and slippers.
"I'm going to bed," he growled at the cybernetic woman. "Try and keep your cackling to a minimum. I find it difficult to even stomach, much less sleep through."
"Sure thing, Doc," she responded with a salute, to which the good doctor rolled his eyes.
The man glanced skeptically at the television screen. "What could possibly be on this early in the morning that you could find that humorous."
The cyborg shrugged. "Some of this paid programming junk," she said. "Who would EVER want to buy a set of knives like that?"
"People whose fingers don't do the job on their own," Sevarius muttered, shaking his head and walking back out of the room.
The cybernetic female threw another mock salute at his retreating back before going back to her program.
Trying to be as indiscreet as possible in his movements, Jason began scooting himself along the floor to the opposite wall of his cell. The last thing he wanted to do was attract her attention. He situated himself so that he had the best viewpoint of both doors leading out of the room. It wasn't as if it would really do him much good since he was confined, but it was nice to have a warning when someone was coming in.
He also warily watched the female cyborg, hoping she remained oblivious to the fact that he was awake. He preferred that she not take interest in him just yet.
Up until the previous night, he'd never heard of anyone that had that amount of cybernetics implanted in them. The man and woman had seemed to be more machine than human. He wondered if they'd been terribly disfigured in some sort of accident, or had lost several limbs. Perhaps making them part machine had been the only way of saving them.
He nearly jumped as the door to his left opened. Almost lazily, the male cyborg walked in, a towel flung over his shoulders. His hair hung in a damp heap. Apparently he'd just come out of the shower.
Their systems must have been advanced indeed if they weren't harmed under running water.
To his annoyance, the male cyborg looked over his way as he entered. "Sleeping beauty's awake," he commented, absently drying a lock of hair with the towel.
Jason cursed inwardly as the female cyborg spun her head around 180 degrees on her neck to see him. She grinned wickedly. "Well, so he is!"
"Why am I here?" Jason asked, unconsciously edging back from them. "What do you really want from me?"
"Now, now," the male replied, wagging a finger at him, "that's not for us to tell you."
The female flipped herself around so that her elbows were rested on the back of the sofa and leaned her head upon her hands. "What Jackal means is we don't know," she said with a grin. "Our job was just to get you here."
"The Good Doctor hasn't really disclosed anything with his 'lackeys' yet," Jackal smiled at him also, though the smile seemed a bit forced.
(And the scientist is in bed,) Jason thought irritably. He wished now that he'd called out or something when the man had been in the room earlier. He wasn't looking forward to a day in this cell with a set of evil robotic twins without even knowing why he was there.
"Aww…" the female cyborg mocked, hopping over the back of the sofa and peering through the glass at him like a creature at a zoo, "Is the widdle gimpy upset?"
"Hyena, you look horribly obnoxious when you do that," Jackal smirked.
*Jackal! Hyena!*
All three of them looked up at the sound of the voice overhead. Sevarius was yelling at them through an intercom.
*Less talk, more guarding! If I don't get any sleep today, YOU don't get any pay tomorrow!*
The two cyborgs wore twin scowls as both of them flopped themselves back down on the sofa.
Jason watched them for a while before settling back into a more comfortable position. Despite having woken up form a forced nap just minutes ago, he figured a bit more rest wouldn't hurt. It didn't look like he was going to be getting any of his answers that day anyway.
+ + + + + + + + + +
MacBeth looked up from his computer as there was a knocking on the door of his office. "Come in," he said.
Robyn entered. She looked like she was about to ground him for life. There was an outfit slung over one of her arms. He recognized it and did his best to contain a bout of smirking.
"What is this supposed to be?" she asked, holding it up for his inspection.
"You don't like it?" he asked with faint amusement. "I thought you were found of black."
"THAT outfit had style," she argued. "This looks like something Batman would wear."
"Oh, I don't think so. Batwoman, perhaps." MacBeth smiled at her obviously not humored expression. "I don't understand all the fuss. I have one just like it. Have you tried it on?"
Robyn gaped. "You have one just like... What are we, some sort of super crime-fighting duo out to save the masses?"
MacBeth laughed. "Come now, it's not that bad. Have you tried it on? It's state of the art."
Robyn glared.
"Go on," MacBeth continued. "There's a ladies room just down the hall, isn't there?"
"I can't believe you're serious," his partner replied. She then stormed out of the room to do what he asked. He heard the slamming of the ladies' room door. He couldn't help but chuckle. He'd wondered how she'd like the outfit. He'd designed it himself, after all. It wasn't as if it was incredibly revealing or anything.
Minutes later, Robyn walked back in. She was wearing what was, for the most part, a replica of MacBeth's own black attire, complete with trenchcoat, but designed for a woman. She was busy adjusting a pair of fingerless gloves on her hands, and she refused to look at him.
"Well?" he asked. "What do you think?"
"I hate you," she deadpanned.
"You like it, don't you," he stated, grinning madly.
"Don't let it go to your head."
--
"Was that Lady MacBeth I just saw walking down the hallway?" Xanatos asked, sitting down at his desk. Owen came in behind him.
"MacBeth was kind enough to design a uniform for her as well." The blonde looked highly amused.
"The personal business of Miss Canmore aside," Xanatos went on, "how are our reports coming along?"
Owen adjusted his glasses. "We managed to make contact with the clan in Ishimura, as well as their human protectors. They seem unwilling to trust us immediately - not surprising considering the last time they put their trust in a human outside their clan they almost ended up the main attraction in an amusement park. Their leader says he'll consider our request, but he wants to speak personally with both you and Goliath beforehand."
"That can be arranged," Xanatos nodded. "Continue."
"I have been unable to get a hold of the Guatemalan clan," he continued. "Gargoyles sightings in that area have become less frequent as of late. However, I received some interesting news just this morning."
"Oh?"
"Mr. Renard has offered to help us locate them, and has even promised protection for them once they are located. Apparently he feels he did them an injustice before and is willing to make up for it."
Xanatos raised an eyebrow. "I have to admit," he said, "I was somewhat surprised when my father-in-law offered to help fund this little excursion of mine. I believe Goliath has earned his respect - a commendable achievement on our large friend's part." He accepted a few files from Owen as the blonde man handed them to him.
"This is what information I've been able to gather on suspected gargoyle sightings over the last few months. There has been a remarkable increase in the sightings in England. I think the British gargoyles should be next on our list of targets."
Xanatos thumbed through the small stack. "Is this really all there is?" he asked. "There are so few of them. Certainly a race as remarkable as theirs would leave a larger impact. Some of these don't even sound as though an actual gargoyle was involved. 'Gargoyles abducted me and used me for a lab experiment?' What are they now, extra-terrestrials?" He set the files aside and stood up. He began pacing behind his desk while Owen watched stoically. "Yet if we went and searched them out we risk revealing them to people who might not be as understanding of them as we are. Who knows how many clans could be hiding out there? It's mind boggling."
Owen added nothing, merely watched as Xanatos' mind worked itself into a frenzy. The man paced back and forth several times before coming to an abrupt halt.
"I'm sorry, Owen," he said. "I get carried away. How's our little recruiting process coming along?"
"The clan is in full support of our venture," Owen began, not acknowledging Xanatos' unusual behavior. "I believe Detective Maza is also coming around. I understand that Detective Bluestone has been discussing the matter with her."
Xanatos nodded to himself. "Good, good."
Owen paused slightly before continuing. His employer noticed this and gave him his full attention, expecting less than positive news.
The Labyrinth clan is... less willing to join your endeavor. It's not as thought they don't believe in the cause, they just -"
"Don't trust me." Xanatos sighed deeply. "I didn't expect anything otherwise. Gaining back Talon's - Derek's trust is something that might take some time to accomplish."
Owen noticed that he didn't claim the task was impossible.
"Has there been any further news on a cure yet?" Xanatos asked.
The blonde man shook his head. "No, not as of yet. There are no scientists available anywhere in the world at this time, it seems, that can match Dr. Sevarius' intellect when it comes to genetic engineering."
"Yes, I was afraid that was the case," Xanatos scowled slightly. "That was why I hired him to begin with.
Owen nodded. "The man is far ahead of his time."
"The man is a freak job," his employer said simply. "He's so good at what he does because he feels no guilt. Any normal human being would cringe at even the prospect of some of his endeavors. He probably chopped the tails off squirrels as a child and surgically implanted them on pigeons, just to be able to point and laugh at them."
Owen raised an eyebrow, but didn't disagree. "Are you certain that at this point they are even interested in a cure?"
"Even if they aren't, I should at least be able to offer it to them." Xanatos examined the files on his desk again. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration and his whole demeanor suddenly shifted. "But that is a matter for a different time. I think you were right about sending something out to the English clan. Is MacBeth still in the building?" he asked without looking up.
"I believe so."
"Send him in here."
--
It was not only MacBeth that entered his room a few moments later, but Miss Canmore as well. The poor woman had not even had the opportunity to change out of her new uniform – which in all respects was a female version of MacBeth's own. She noticed his humored expression and didn't seem amused.
"You wanted to see us, Xanatos?" MacBeth asked before Robyn could say anything.
"Yes, Mr. MacDuff," he answered. He produced one of the files that Owen had given him and came around to the front of his desk. "As it turns out, I have your first assignment."
"Do you now?" MacBeth replied. "And what would that be?"
Xanatos placed the file in the man's outstretched hand. MacBeth sifted through it's contents while his employer went on.
"There have been several sightings of gargoyles in England over the past few months. According to Goliath, there is a small clan living there – maybe not more than two – older gargoyles that might respond well to a diplomatic meeting of sorts."
Robyn looked skeptical. "Only two? That hardly seems worth our time."
"Two or two-hundred, they're still gargoyles," Xanatos replied. "And they have to have gotten there somehow. Perhaps there's more to their clan than we know about." He smiled, leaning back against his desk. "And I'm only sending one of you. The other has to attend the P.I.T rally this weekend – make a few enlistments, so to speak."
Robyn was about to open her mouth to respond when MacBeth beat her to it. "Perhaps this would be a good time to test Miss Canmore's resourcefulness," he said.
The former hunter kept her face straight. Test her resourcefulness indeed. He wanted to put her on a trial run, then, to see how well she could really handle this situation. This was meant to be her chance to prove herself to him – prove that she could really work on the gargoyles' behalf instead of against them.
"Perhaps." Xanatos looked thoughtful.
"You mean to send me there by myself?" she asked.
The multi-billionaire gave her a rather vulpine smirk. "Like you said – there's only two of them." When she gave a resigned nod he went on. "I'll send an escort with you, so don't worry about being unprotected. I don't think the Quarrymen have learned of our organization yet, but it never hurts to be prepared."
At the name of the anti-gargoyle group the sides of Robyn's mouth twitched somewhat, but she said nothing. That was not something she needed to dwell on at this time.
"About this rally," MacBeth said, interrupting her thoughts, "Mrs. Yale did say that there would be film crews?"
"WVRN is going to have one of its reporters running a live scoop on the whole event," Xanatos nodded. "Hopefully this will keep any actions of the Quarrymen to a minimum."
"One would hope," MacBeth agreed.
The phone on Xanatos' desk gave a beep, and he looked at it over his shoulder. Whatever it said on the I.D. seemed to irritate him. He didn't answer it. "Well, everything you need to know should be in that file," he said. "Good luck to the both of you. I hope you don't mind me shooing you out at this time. There seems to be an… important phone call waiting for me."
MacBeth smiled. "Good luck with that too, Mr. Xanatos." Then he turned and exited. Robyn followed after only a slight moment's pause.
When they were out the door, Robyn turned her irritation to her partner. "So you're testing me out, are you?"
The older man grinned. "So to speak. I thought it would be a good start for you. That, and the fact that I have no intention of missing the P.I.T. rally."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I met the WVRN reporter that's covering that story during the debate myself and Mrs. Yale had at the studio not too long ago. I promised her a small history lesson the next time we met."
Robyn raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I see. A history lesson, eh?"
It took a moment for MacBeth to catch the added meaning in her tone of voice and he stopped walking, startled. "Surely you don't think I have something else in mind?"
"Whyever not? You seem pretty well taken care of for a man your age. I didn't think you were married." She smiled wryly.
"That is not what I had in mind," he said as if that ended the matter, and continued walking. She was a bit stunned by his lack of comeback and followed.
--
Xanatos slammed down the receiver with a scoff. "If I never hear from that man again," he muttered, "I swear it will be too soon."
He set about organizing the files on his desk and moving into a drawer on the side. Once having finished that, he did something he hadn't done for a long time – he crossed his arms and laid them and his head upon the desk, like a child at school.
Owen appeared at his side not long afterwards. "Sir," he said, "if you don't mind me asking… Are you all right?"
Xanatos looked up at him. Owen looked as unshakable as ever, but he could have sworn there was an aura of awkwardness around him. The blonde never had been very good at asking those types of questions.
"I'm fine, Owen. Really. Thanks for your concern." He sat up, rubbing at his eyes.
"Is there anything I can get you? Coffee, perhaps?"
He thought about that. "Yes, Owen," he replied. "Coffee would be good right about now. I'm just a bit weary, is all."
Owen nodded and went about doing as his employer asked. He looked back one more time before leaving the room. Xanatos had his head down once again.
The man hadn't been acting right all day. He didn't know what was going on with him, and he hated when he didn't know Xanatos' plans. If anything this was a poor time for him to get sick. He'd make sure to bring the matter up with Fox when he saw her.
But right now he had to get Xanatos his coffee.
+ + + + + + + + + +
The telescope was just barely big enough to fit through the door into her apartment. She had to angle it just right or else risk knocking the eyepiece – even when it was folded up properly. She managed to eventually maneuver it into her bedroom, where she placed it back inside its case against the wall. Adjusting her glasses, which had been somewhat dislodged during the move, she went about getting ready for work.
She figured she was pretty lucky to still have the telescope. As much as the white gargoyle had seemed interested in the view, the female hadn't seemed very enthused at all. She'd feared for a moment that the angry creature would destroy it – perhaps even her, which is why she ran off. But apparently this hadn't been the case. She was glad for that. The telescope was old, and not the best of quality, but she wouldn't be able to afford a new one any time soon.
She had just finished buttoning up her blouse when there was a knock on her door. She paused, looking up questioningly. Who could possibly be at her apartment at this time of day? She rarely had visitors.
Peeping through the keyhole revealed a young man holding a bouquet of flowers. She was startled by this, and opened the door. Certainly they had the wrong address.
"Special delivery for a Miss Allison Black," he said curtly.
Nope. That was her name all right.
"Oh…" she said, not knowing what else to do. She accepted the flowers, after which he nodded to her and left. She didn't remember until after he was gone that she should have asked him who they were from.
Allison brought them inside and set them on her counter. There was an envelope attached to them with a long red ribbon. It took her a moment of struggling with the large and intricate bow that it had been tied in, but she finally managed to undo it and pull the letter off. The envelope was also red.
Looking from the letter to the flowers and wondering still who had sent them, she opened up the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. It was short, with only a couple of lines written in dark red ink.
Dear Miss Black,
You chose wrong.
She didn't understand. She was about to set the letter down when it burst into flames. She cried out in fear as the bouquet suddenly began to shrivel and die, and a noxious gas began to spill from the remains.
Allison backed away and covered her mouth with both hands as the gas steadily filled the room. She ran for her door only to find it locked. She panicked and banged desperately upon the door, screaming in between coughs. But there was no response.
The gas was so thick now that she could hardly see. Her throat was on fire and she found herself unable to breathe. She could feel herself growing faint, and her knees buckled, sending her to the floor.
Not understanding, and wondering why this was happening to her, she passed out on the floor.
Unbeknownst to anyone, the window to her apartment opened gently from the outside, and the vapors were swept up in the early afternoon breeze, to be lost in the atmosphere.
+ + + + + + + + + +
SEVARIUS: (dramatically) "Yes! I betrayed you. You robbed me of my greatest creation – my ultimate achievement! I only took back what was mine…!" (whispered) "There. How was that?"
XANATOS: …?
PREVIOUSLY ON GARGOYLES…
He held up a small flier. "I've already made contact with leaders of small committees such as this one. I know you're already familiar with the P.I.T. Crew. I've been able to get a hold of leaders in four other small groups such as these around the globe - including a few residents of a town in Japan called Ishimura. I believe you've met them before as well." She nodded. "I intend to help fund their organizations. They might be small now, but given time they can become the arms and legs of this project."
The police woman raised an eyebrow. "You're really serious about this," she stated quietly.
Xanatos regarded her with a strangely calm expression. "Up until this point," he said lowly, "I don't think I've ever been more serious about anything. I owe them so much, Detective. I owe YOU as much."
-----
"Just a minute!" he called, once again redirecting his chair. Reaching the door, he opened it to find, not his sister, but three figures in trenchcoats. He recognized none of them. "Yes?" he asked skeptically. "What can I do for you?"
The man closest peered out from under his hat with a sort of half smirk. "You are Jason Canmore?" he asked.
Looking wary, the man in the wheelchair nodded his head.
"Then the question is," the other grinned, "what can WE do for YOU?"
--
"I. Am. Not. Interested. Good bye." That said, he lashed out with an umbrella that leaned on the wall near the entrance and caught the figure supporting the door across the face. There was a cry of pain and the person pulled back, leaving Jason free to shut and lock it.
He had to wheel away almost immediately as the door was thrown off its hinges.
Sevarius stepped forward with a malicious smile. "I'm afraid," he hissed, "that you're not being given the option of refusal."
-----
"Where. Are. You. From?" she asked dangerously.
"A-Avalon…" the frightened gargoyle replied, truthfully enough.
Demona's whole demeanor changed instantly. At first she seemed surprised, and she lowered the rifle from its position at his neck. "Avalon…?" she whispered. "You are one of the clan's children? Like Angela?"
The white gargoyle raised an eyebrow. "You know of Angela?"
"Yes, she… visits me occasionally," she grabbed his arm, leading him over to the sofa. "But come, you must think rather terribly of me. I apologize. I've become rather… paranoid… as of late." She sat him down and he watched her with nervous eyes. "I don't think I quite caught your name," she added to his great disappointment.
He thought quickly. He couldn't tell her he was the Magus, but that was the only name he had used since Prince Malcolm had given him his position. He knew if he mentioned the name he'd had as a boy she'd probably recognize that too. She'd been near the Archmage enough. Names ran through his head at an alarming rate. What could he possibly...
"A-Alfred," he said suddenly. "My name is Alfred."
CHAPTER 3: SUBMISSION
They pulled to a stop in front of an old abandoned warehouse. It obviously hadn't seen use in ages, and was not even marked as property of Xanatos Enterprises. Robyn felt mildly disappointed. As far as secret operations bases went, this was terribly cliché.
She mentioned as much to Owen, who merely chuckled lightly. "Really, Miss Canmore. A secret base of operations? We're not a Russian spy unit."
"That's not what we're here for?" she asked, feeling a bit let down but relieved at the same time. "That was the idea I'd received from your message earlier."
Owen's smirk widened. "When I said I'd be taking you out to a place where we store everything you'd need for your new career? What about that registered as 'Super Secret Hidden Spy Base?'"
Robyn stepped out of the car, ignoring his humored expression. "Har har." She was soon joined by Xanatos' still smiling right-hand man, who led both of them into the partially demolished building.
"Actually," the man continued, "This particular building is a rather recent acquisition of Mr. Xanatos'. Its previous owner had left it abandoned for a couple years and didn't seem to have any need for it. I believe Mr. Xanatos was rather fond of its view of the harbor."
Robyn took a quick glance back at the seedy district behind her and found the beauty in it to be somewhat lacking.
After a few flips of the light switch it soon became apparent that the lights were no longer functioning. With a slight frown, Owen pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and continued to lead her further back. Apparently, the idea that they'd be traveling in darkness had crossed his mind before he came here.
"I'll make sure to get those fixed," he muttered, even though Robyn had made no complaint.
From what she could see of the place by the surprisingly strong glow of Owen's flashlight, she figured it had to have at one point been the scene of some sort of gun fight. It hadn't been fought with any normal handguns either. The scorch marks running up and across several of the support pillars had obviously been made by laser rifles. Many of the crates that remained, even, had been burnt mostly to cinders. And then there were those claw marks on the beams…
"Mr. Burnett," she asked in a hushed voice, "There were gargoyles in here fighting someone at one point, weren't there."
The blonde man didn't turn around to face her, but continued walking. "Yes. A few years ago. Not long after they first awoke here, actually. It was a particularly nasty affair involving the mob boss Tony Dracon and a few stolen bits of particle beam weaponry."
She took another careful look at the destruction. "None of them were… killed… in this incident?" she asked.
This time Owen did turn around, and gave her a curious glance. "No, Miss Canmore. None of them were killed."
They continued the walk in silence until Owen came to a stop in front of two large objects covered in thick black sheets. Here he raised the light to the ceiling, illuminating a thin chain hanging above his head. "Ah," he said. "These should work."
Pulling the chain caused that small area to be lit by the few functioning lights above. Robyn squinted her eyes, allowing them to readjust to the now brighter room. Besides the two covered objects, there was nothing else of interest here – just several more empty crates.
"Here you are," Owen was saying. "These here were designed by Professor MacDuff himself. They should be relatively simple to operate."
Before she had the opportunity to ask what he meant by that, the blonde man had removed the covering from one of them, and her question was answered. The covered items were in fact vehicles – hover vehicles to be exact. At least that's what they appeared to be. They bore little resemblance to the ones she and her brother had used as Hunters, but she recognized the design nonetheless.
These were apparently ridden while standing. It was a rather dangerous method of riding, but she supposed it allowed for much more maneuverability on the part of the driver. She approached them slowly, inspecting the operating mechanism at the front. It again was nothing like she was used to, but Owen was right in saying the design would be easy to follow.
"Professor MacDuff designed these?" she asked after a few more moments of intense scrutiny.
Owen adjusted his glasses a bit. "Yes, madam," he replied. "Designed and built, I believe. Mr. MacDuff is somewhat of a wizard when it comes to modern machinery."
Robyn raised an eyebrow and muttered a low "I'll bet" as she looked for the ignition. "Do these work at the moment?"
"They require a key."
Looking up, she found Owen holding up his stone hand – where a small key dangled from a cord around his wrist. "I suggest first, however," he lowered his arm, "That you take a look at something else." He approached one of the crates that she'd assumed was empty earlier, and brought out something wrapped in the same dark cloth as the hover vehicles. He then unwrapped it and held it out for her to take.
He watched as she turned the device over in her hands. "It's a highly concentrated energy gun – more commonly referred to by Mr. MacDuff as his 'lightning weapon.'"
"An energy gun?" asked Robyn.
"Yes." The man carefully refolded the black material into a square. "It's a particular favorite of the Professor's. I believe he was hoping you could take a look at it – help him with an upgrade, if you will."
Robyn was still in awe of the gun's mechanics, so it was in a hushed voice that she replied "Yeah… Sure. I'd be happy to check it over."
Focused as she was on the weapon in front of her, she missed the small satisfied smirk on Owen's face. With his good hand, he removed the small key from his wrist and held it out to her. After a pause, she exchanged the key for the gun.
"Guess I'll have to check this baby out then," she said with a smile, and stepped gently up onto the small hovercraft.
Owen's eyes widened all of a sudden, as if he had remembered something (or had stepped in something rather unpleasant – with Owen you never could tell) and he held out his hand as an indication that she should stop. "Wait," he said. "There was one other thing the Professor wanted you to take a look at."
Robyn raised an eyebrow, unwilling at the moment to step down off her new perch. The bespectacled man searched around for a moment before he pulled a larger crate out from the bottom of a stack of three. Opening it up, he then pulled out what appeared to be an outfit of some sort. He unfolded it, and held it up for her inspection.
"Mr. MacDuff though you might find this comfortable," he said with something of a smug expression.
The former Hunter gawked. "You've GOT to be kidding me."
+ + + + + + + + + +
Demona watched with interest as the white gargoyle's original fear of her slowly melted into curiosity at his new surroundings. She watched as his eyes slowly strayed around the room, though it was obvious he was trying to be polite and make it look like they weren't. The numerous items she had collected over the millennia were enough to catch anyone's eye, much less those of someone who'd never seen anything outside of the tenth century.
She watched this with both satisfaction and dread. On the one hand, the fact that she was the first gargoyle he had met in Manhattan meant that she would be able to tell him the truths of the world before Goliath got his overly sentimental talons on him. The unfortunate side to this was that it made her responsible for catching him up-to-date with the present year, a task she thoroughly dreaded. Explaining the intricacies of every appliance in her household was NOT something she was looking forward to in any way shape or form.
For a moment, she considered just dropping the new gargoyle on Xanatos' doorstep anyway just to save herself the trouble.
The thought didn't last long. No, she wasn't going to give up what might be her last opportunity.
"Am I correct in assuming," she began, "that this is your first time away from Avalon?"
This question seemed to take him by surprise, startling him a bit. He made a lovely effort at stuttering before he could respond. "Uh…no. I mean, yes! – No, I've never been away from Avalon before…"
Demona gave him her most disarming smile as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, trying to retain his dignity. "You seem nervous," she said. "There's no reason for you to be afraid."
This didn't seem to calm the other gargoyle much, but he did try to return her smile. She noticed with some amusement, however, that he had clasped his hands together nervously under the table.
"You'll have to forgive me," he answered. "It's just that the last time I saw you, you were firing a… laser? Wasn't it? …at my, er, brothers and sisters."
The expression on Demona's face shifted immediately into one of genuine pained regret. The Magus found himself somewhat taken aback, realizing that this was the first truthful expression she'd had since she pulled the gun on him when he arrived. Noticing his gaze, she turned her head away slightly.
"In that case, it's me you'll have to forgive." She glanced down at her hands, now curled together on the table in front of her. "Trust me when I say I was not myself when that happened. I would never fire unprovoked at any gargoyle I'd never seen. Not with our numbers being so few."
"The Weird Sisters had you under a spell," he said quietly. "I know. Still… you have to admit it's a bit awkward."
What was more awkward than that, in all reality, was the silence that followed. Both of them averted their eyes from each other, and the Magus glanced almost longingly towards the glass doorway he had entered from. For a few moments they merely sat and said nothing.
It was Demona who eventually decided to break through the barricade. She rose to her feet so fast that the Magus nearly fell backwards out of his chair in his surprise.
"I could take you on a tour of the city," she said, "…get you in tune with the way the world runs nowadays." She hazarded a smile. "Surely you're dying to know all about it."
The white gargoyle did look interested, though the nervousness had not left him in the slightest bit. "That… sounds like something to do," he answered, believing that it would most definitely be in his best interests to agree. Seeing Demona cheerful was a much more likable option then seeing her aiming at him with a particle beam weapon. His expression brightened. "Yes, I think I would like that."
--
There wasn't as much of the night left as she would have preferred. Their venture could last no longer than a couple hours before they would have to head back to her manor.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye as they glided towards the outskirts of the city. It was interesting to note that he seemed to be having some difficulties with the wind currents. She supposed the atmosphere was very different from the one he was used to back on Avalon.
"These…buildings," he began murmuring. "They ARE buildings, aren't they?"
She nodded.
"Do people… live in them?"
"Some of them."
His eyes took in the whole area dazedly. She hoped he was paying enough attention to where he was flying.
"There isn't much farmland around here, is there…" he continued to mutter, and she wasn't sure if he was asking her a question or just talking to himself. "Is this all the…city? Where do the people go? What do they do here? Who's in charge of everything? Do the buildings ever fall over…?"
Demona sighed, trying to remember if she still had aspirin back at her manor.
"Why is everything built so straight and boxed shaped?" he went on.
"Because humans are lazy and that's the easiest to build," Demona muttered irritably. He seemed to not have heard her, and she swooped lower to the ground to try and get his mind back on gliding and away from questions.
So when he gave an ecstatic "What's THAT??" and headed in the opposite direction she felt like ripping her own hair out.
"Stop, Alfred!" she called after him. "Where are you going?"
Her eyes caught sight of where he was heading to all too late. There was a woman standing on the top of a nearby building looking through the lens of a large telescope, and her new gargoyle companion seemed to see no trouble at all with gliding in and taking a better look.
"Alfred, get back here!"
The woman, a short haired brunette in ovular spectacles, gasped and took a step back as the Magus landed on the roof in front of her. "What IS that?" he asked, pointing to the telescope. The woman's nervousness seemed completely lost on him.
She was about to respond when Demona alighted and scowled at her. She took a couple more steps back as the angry gargoyle turned her attention to her elated new acquaintance. "What are you DOING?" she hissed. "I don't know what you've been taught, but you don't just go wandering up and introducing yourself to random humans!"
The Magus' wings drooped. "But..!"
"I-it's all right!" the woman suddenly interrupted. The glare she received from Demona almost kept her from continuing, but she went on. "It's a… a telescope. Y-you can look through it if you want to."
"I don't remember asking you for permission, human..." Demona began.
"Really??" the Magus asked, eyes lighting up in excitement.
The woman nodded, seemingly pleased to make the gargoyle happy.
Demona's eyes went red in anger, but seeing her companion already kneeling before the telescope she sighed and tried to keep herself calm. It wasn't as though a peek through it could hurt much.
She kept a close watch on the human female. She despised gargoyle supporters. She felt as though they were being treated like some cute endangered species that needed protection. Gargoyles needed no such thing – especially not from the same race that had been responsible for them becoming "endangered" in the first place.
A gasp in the direction of the telescope brought her attention back to Alfred. He'd had to get down on one knee to make himself the same height as the woman. She almost snickered as his reaction to the device. He kept pulling his head away from the telescope, then looking back in the lens, then pulling away again.
"Demona," he asked, voice somewhat shaken, "is that… the castle??"
The red-headed gargoyle's eyes widened immediately, and she shoved the Magus away from the telescope. Bending down a bit, she took his place and gazed through the lens. It was not, as she had thought, focused on any array of stars, but to the Eyrie building and what it held atop it. Growling to herself, she realized she should have known this. Her own experience taught her that the New York skyline was too well lit to see many stars at night.
"You! Human!" she spun around, prepared to rip the woman to shreds –
Only to find that she was no longer there.
In the moment she had taken to focus her attention on the telescope, the woman had apparently run off. No doubt she realized Demona wouldn't be pleased with what she'd really been viewing.
"Idiot human," Demona spat. "How dare she spy on – "
"Can we… can we go there?" a hesitant voice asked. The blue gargoyle looked towards her feet. The Magus was still sitting where she had knocked him down. His blue eyes were wide and expectant.
A long sigh was his only reply. Demona's heart sank. Of course he would want to go there. It's not as though she could have hidden the place from him for very long – not when it was the tallest building in the city. She needed to keep him from there somehow…
Luck must have been with her, at least this once. Looking up at the position of the moon, she realized they honestly didn't have the time to visit the castle, unless he wanted to spend the day there.
"Not…tonight," she answered him. She saw his distraught reaction but went on. "It's nearly dawn and you're going – WE'RE going to have to head back to a protected place to rest."
His eyes seemed to widen a bit as that realization struck him. "Oh! That's right…" he answered distractedly.
Despite her urgings to do otherwise, Demona left the telescope in one piece. Leaping off the building, she had to wait a moment as Alfred straightened himself out and followed her. He seemed more subdued than he had been, and she didn't like that.
The whole flight back he said nothing. He was disturbingly silent. Not one question about his new surroundings. He didn't even ask about her confrontation with the human woman they'd left behind. He was completely absorbed in his thoughts.
(He'll be wanting to see the castle, of course,) Demona thought with a sigh. (It's not exactly like I can easily stop him either. Not without making myself out to be worse than I already have.)
They said nothing to each other as they landed on the porch. Demona opened the sliding glass and let them inside, still watching her companion.
(I'll bet anything he's been raised on tales of Goliath's 'greatness') she seethed. (What am I supposed to say? 'Everything you've ever been taught is a lie? Humans are a plague upon the earth?')
She watched as Alfred looked at her uncertainly. He probably wondered where the best place to perch was. She motioned distractedly towards the closest empty room.
"It will be safer inside," she said. "This building doesn't exactly look like the place you would normally see gargoyle statues outside."
The white gargoyle nodded and made his way in the direction she pointed.
(He was raised by humans, for crying out loud!) She wearily flopped down in her favorite chair. (After the way I've acted already, there's not way he'll believe me over them.) She'd tried it with Angela. She was her own daughter and she'd been unsuccessful. There was a point in time when she would have jumped at the opportunity. Now she wasn't sure if it was even worth it.
She put her head in her hands, wondering silently what she'd gotten herself into.
"I'm so tired of this," she muttered, just as the sun peaked over the horizon.
+ + + + + + + + + +
Jason Canmore awoke to one of the most unpleasant sounds it is possible for anyone to wake up to. At first it confused him, because he couldn't make out what it was. He thought perhaps he might be dreaming – and if so he'd better get up soon.
After it became apparent that he wasn't dreaming at all, he brought his head up from the floor where he'd been laying, and tried to discern where the horrendous noise was coming from.
He realized after he did so that he was in a cell of some sort. It was an odd sort of holding pen, with walls that couldn't have been made with anything other then a thick plexiglass. An interesting sort of speaker molded into one of the walls allowed him to hear almost everything going on outside. Though at the moment, he wished he'd been rendered deaf.
He soon spotted the source of his irritation. Not more than ten feet in front of him, there was a large sofa. It was a horribly ugly thing in sort of an olive green color with a great deal of wear and tear. One of his captors was sitting in the middle of it with an arm flung over the back.
It was the female cyborg. And the noise that had been bothering him so much was the high pitched sound of her laughter. She was obviously amused by whatever she was watching on the television in front of her. Jason didn't think anyone should even be capable of making such a sound.
He raised himself carefully into a sitting position. He was a bit surprised that he hadn't been bound in any way, but given his confinement and how there were probably two half-robotic beings guarding him, he figured they probably didn't think it necessary.
Thankfully, after a few moments the laughter settled down to a chuckle and became infinitely more bearable. The reason for this was the scientist that had just stepped out of a hallway to his right, clad in a bathrobe and slippers.
"I'm going to bed," he growled at the cybernetic woman. "Try and keep your cackling to a minimum. I find it difficult to even stomach, much less sleep through."
"Sure thing, Doc," she responded with a salute, to which the good doctor rolled his eyes.
The man glanced skeptically at the television screen. "What could possibly be on this early in the morning that you could find that humorous."
The cyborg shrugged. "Some of this paid programming junk," she said. "Who would EVER want to buy a set of knives like that?"
"People whose fingers don't do the job on their own," Sevarius muttered, shaking his head and walking back out of the room.
The cybernetic female threw another mock salute at his retreating back before going back to her program.
Trying to be as indiscreet as possible in his movements, Jason began scooting himself along the floor to the opposite wall of his cell. The last thing he wanted to do was attract her attention. He situated himself so that he had the best viewpoint of both doors leading out of the room. It wasn't as if it would really do him much good since he was confined, but it was nice to have a warning when someone was coming in.
He also warily watched the female cyborg, hoping she remained oblivious to the fact that he was awake. He preferred that she not take interest in him just yet.
Up until the previous night, he'd never heard of anyone that had that amount of cybernetics implanted in them. The man and woman had seemed to be more machine than human. He wondered if they'd been terribly disfigured in some sort of accident, or had lost several limbs. Perhaps making them part machine had been the only way of saving them.
He nearly jumped as the door to his left opened. Almost lazily, the male cyborg walked in, a towel flung over his shoulders. His hair hung in a damp heap. Apparently he'd just come out of the shower.
Their systems must have been advanced indeed if they weren't harmed under running water.
To his annoyance, the male cyborg looked over his way as he entered. "Sleeping beauty's awake," he commented, absently drying a lock of hair with the towel.
Jason cursed inwardly as the female cyborg spun her head around 180 degrees on her neck to see him. She grinned wickedly. "Well, so he is!"
"Why am I here?" Jason asked, unconsciously edging back from them. "What do you really want from me?"
"Now, now," the male replied, wagging a finger at him, "that's not for us to tell you."
The female flipped herself around so that her elbows were rested on the back of the sofa and leaned her head upon her hands. "What Jackal means is we don't know," she said with a grin. "Our job was just to get you here."
"The Good Doctor hasn't really disclosed anything with his 'lackeys' yet," Jackal smiled at him also, though the smile seemed a bit forced.
(And the scientist is in bed,) Jason thought irritably. He wished now that he'd called out or something when the man had been in the room earlier. He wasn't looking forward to a day in this cell with a set of evil robotic twins without even knowing why he was there.
"Aww…" the female cyborg mocked, hopping over the back of the sofa and peering through the glass at him like a creature at a zoo, "Is the widdle gimpy upset?"
"Hyena, you look horribly obnoxious when you do that," Jackal smirked.
*Jackal! Hyena!*
All three of them looked up at the sound of the voice overhead. Sevarius was yelling at them through an intercom.
*Less talk, more guarding! If I don't get any sleep today, YOU don't get any pay tomorrow!*
The two cyborgs wore twin scowls as both of them flopped themselves back down on the sofa.
Jason watched them for a while before settling back into a more comfortable position. Despite having woken up form a forced nap just minutes ago, he figured a bit more rest wouldn't hurt. It didn't look like he was going to be getting any of his answers that day anyway.
+ + + + + + + + + +
MacBeth looked up from his computer as there was a knocking on the door of his office. "Come in," he said.
Robyn entered. She looked like she was about to ground him for life. There was an outfit slung over one of her arms. He recognized it and did his best to contain a bout of smirking.
"What is this supposed to be?" she asked, holding it up for his inspection.
"You don't like it?" he asked with faint amusement. "I thought you were found of black."
"THAT outfit had style," she argued. "This looks like something Batman would wear."
"Oh, I don't think so. Batwoman, perhaps." MacBeth smiled at her obviously not humored expression. "I don't understand all the fuss. I have one just like it. Have you tried it on?"
Robyn gaped. "You have one just like... What are we, some sort of super crime-fighting duo out to save the masses?"
MacBeth laughed. "Come now, it's not that bad. Have you tried it on? It's state of the art."
Robyn glared.
"Go on," MacBeth continued. "There's a ladies room just down the hall, isn't there?"
"I can't believe you're serious," his partner replied. She then stormed out of the room to do what he asked. He heard the slamming of the ladies' room door. He couldn't help but chuckle. He'd wondered how she'd like the outfit. He'd designed it himself, after all. It wasn't as if it was incredibly revealing or anything.
Minutes later, Robyn walked back in. She was wearing what was, for the most part, a replica of MacBeth's own black attire, complete with trenchcoat, but designed for a woman. She was busy adjusting a pair of fingerless gloves on her hands, and she refused to look at him.
"Well?" he asked. "What do you think?"
"I hate you," she deadpanned.
"You like it, don't you," he stated, grinning madly.
"Don't let it go to your head."
--
"Was that Lady MacBeth I just saw walking down the hallway?" Xanatos asked, sitting down at his desk. Owen came in behind him.
"MacBeth was kind enough to design a uniform for her as well." The blonde looked highly amused.
"The personal business of Miss Canmore aside," Xanatos went on, "how are our reports coming along?"
Owen adjusted his glasses. "We managed to make contact with the clan in Ishimura, as well as their human protectors. They seem unwilling to trust us immediately - not surprising considering the last time they put their trust in a human outside their clan they almost ended up the main attraction in an amusement park. Their leader says he'll consider our request, but he wants to speak personally with both you and Goliath beforehand."
"That can be arranged," Xanatos nodded. "Continue."
"I have been unable to get a hold of the Guatemalan clan," he continued. "Gargoyles sightings in that area have become less frequent as of late. However, I received some interesting news just this morning."
"Oh?"
"Mr. Renard has offered to help us locate them, and has even promised protection for them once they are located. Apparently he feels he did them an injustice before and is willing to make up for it."
Xanatos raised an eyebrow. "I have to admit," he said, "I was somewhat surprised when my father-in-law offered to help fund this little excursion of mine. I believe Goliath has earned his respect - a commendable achievement on our large friend's part." He accepted a few files from Owen as the blonde man handed them to him.
"This is what information I've been able to gather on suspected gargoyle sightings over the last few months. There has been a remarkable increase in the sightings in England. I think the British gargoyles should be next on our list of targets."
Xanatos thumbed through the small stack. "Is this really all there is?" he asked. "There are so few of them. Certainly a race as remarkable as theirs would leave a larger impact. Some of these don't even sound as though an actual gargoyle was involved. 'Gargoyles abducted me and used me for a lab experiment?' What are they now, extra-terrestrials?" He set the files aside and stood up. He began pacing behind his desk while Owen watched stoically. "Yet if we went and searched them out we risk revealing them to people who might not be as understanding of them as we are. Who knows how many clans could be hiding out there? It's mind boggling."
Owen added nothing, merely watched as Xanatos' mind worked itself into a frenzy. The man paced back and forth several times before coming to an abrupt halt.
"I'm sorry, Owen," he said. "I get carried away. How's our little recruiting process coming along?"
"The clan is in full support of our venture," Owen began, not acknowledging Xanatos' unusual behavior. "I believe Detective Maza is also coming around. I understand that Detective Bluestone has been discussing the matter with her."
Xanatos nodded to himself. "Good, good."
Owen paused slightly before continuing. His employer noticed this and gave him his full attention, expecting less than positive news.
The Labyrinth clan is... less willing to join your endeavor. It's not as thought they don't believe in the cause, they just -"
"Don't trust me." Xanatos sighed deeply. "I didn't expect anything otherwise. Gaining back Talon's - Derek's trust is something that might take some time to accomplish."
Owen noticed that he didn't claim the task was impossible.
"Has there been any further news on a cure yet?" Xanatos asked.
The blonde man shook his head. "No, not as of yet. There are no scientists available anywhere in the world at this time, it seems, that can match Dr. Sevarius' intellect when it comes to genetic engineering."
"Yes, I was afraid that was the case," Xanatos scowled slightly. "That was why I hired him to begin with.
Owen nodded. "The man is far ahead of his time."
"The man is a freak job," his employer said simply. "He's so good at what he does because he feels no guilt. Any normal human being would cringe at even the prospect of some of his endeavors. He probably chopped the tails off squirrels as a child and surgically implanted them on pigeons, just to be able to point and laugh at them."
Owen raised an eyebrow, but didn't disagree. "Are you certain that at this point they are even interested in a cure?"
"Even if they aren't, I should at least be able to offer it to them." Xanatos examined the files on his desk again. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration and his whole demeanor suddenly shifted. "But that is a matter for a different time. I think you were right about sending something out to the English clan. Is MacBeth still in the building?" he asked without looking up.
"I believe so."
"Send him in here."
--
It was not only MacBeth that entered his room a few moments later, but Miss Canmore as well. The poor woman had not even had the opportunity to change out of her new uniform – which in all respects was a female version of MacBeth's own. She noticed his humored expression and didn't seem amused.
"You wanted to see us, Xanatos?" MacBeth asked before Robyn could say anything.
"Yes, Mr. MacDuff," he answered. He produced one of the files that Owen had given him and came around to the front of his desk. "As it turns out, I have your first assignment."
"Do you now?" MacBeth replied. "And what would that be?"
Xanatos placed the file in the man's outstretched hand. MacBeth sifted through it's contents while his employer went on.
"There have been several sightings of gargoyles in England over the past few months. According to Goliath, there is a small clan living there – maybe not more than two – older gargoyles that might respond well to a diplomatic meeting of sorts."
Robyn looked skeptical. "Only two? That hardly seems worth our time."
"Two or two-hundred, they're still gargoyles," Xanatos replied. "And they have to have gotten there somehow. Perhaps there's more to their clan than we know about." He smiled, leaning back against his desk. "And I'm only sending one of you. The other has to attend the P.I.T rally this weekend – make a few enlistments, so to speak."
Robyn was about to open her mouth to respond when MacBeth beat her to it. "Perhaps this would be a good time to test Miss Canmore's resourcefulness," he said.
The former hunter kept her face straight. Test her resourcefulness indeed. He wanted to put her on a trial run, then, to see how well she could really handle this situation. This was meant to be her chance to prove herself to him – prove that she could really work on the gargoyles' behalf instead of against them.
"Perhaps." Xanatos looked thoughtful.
"You mean to send me there by myself?" she asked.
The multi-billionaire gave her a rather vulpine smirk. "Like you said – there's only two of them." When she gave a resigned nod he went on. "I'll send an escort with you, so don't worry about being unprotected. I don't think the Quarrymen have learned of our organization yet, but it never hurts to be prepared."
At the name of the anti-gargoyle group the sides of Robyn's mouth twitched somewhat, but she said nothing. That was not something she needed to dwell on at this time.
"About this rally," MacBeth said, interrupting her thoughts, "Mrs. Yale did say that there would be film crews?"
"WVRN is going to have one of its reporters running a live scoop on the whole event," Xanatos nodded. "Hopefully this will keep any actions of the Quarrymen to a minimum."
"One would hope," MacBeth agreed.
The phone on Xanatos' desk gave a beep, and he looked at it over his shoulder. Whatever it said on the I.D. seemed to irritate him. He didn't answer it. "Well, everything you need to know should be in that file," he said. "Good luck to the both of you. I hope you don't mind me shooing you out at this time. There seems to be an… important phone call waiting for me."
MacBeth smiled. "Good luck with that too, Mr. Xanatos." Then he turned and exited. Robyn followed after only a slight moment's pause.
When they were out the door, Robyn turned her irritation to her partner. "So you're testing me out, are you?"
The older man grinned. "So to speak. I thought it would be a good start for you. That, and the fact that I have no intention of missing the P.I.T. rally."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I met the WVRN reporter that's covering that story during the debate myself and Mrs. Yale had at the studio not too long ago. I promised her a small history lesson the next time we met."
Robyn raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I see. A history lesson, eh?"
It took a moment for MacBeth to catch the added meaning in her tone of voice and he stopped walking, startled. "Surely you don't think I have something else in mind?"
"Whyever not? You seem pretty well taken care of for a man your age. I didn't think you were married." She smiled wryly.
"That is not what I had in mind," he said as if that ended the matter, and continued walking. She was a bit stunned by his lack of comeback and followed.
--
Xanatos slammed down the receiver with a scoff. "If I never hear from that man again," he muttered, "I swear it will be too soon."
He set about organizing the files on his desk and moving into a drawer on the side. Once having finished that, he did something he hadn't done for a long time – he crossed his arms and laid them and his head upon the desk, like a child at school.
Owen appeared at his side not long afterwards. "Sir," he said, "if you don't mind me asking… Are you all right?"
Xanatos looked up at him. Owen looked as unshakable as ever, but he could have sworn there was an aura of awkwardness around him. The blonde never had been very good at asking those types of questions.
"I'm fine, Owen. Really. Thanks for your concern." He sat up, rubbing at his eyes.
"Is there anything I can get you? Coffee, perhaps?"
He thought about that. "Yes, Owen," he replied. "Coffee would be good right about now. I'm just a bit weary, is all."
Owen nodded and went about doing as his employer asked. He looked back one more time before leaving the room. Xanatos had his head down once again.
The man hadn't been acting right all day. He didn't know what was going on with him, and he hated when he didn't know Xanatos' plans. If anything this was a poor time for him to get sick. He'd make sure to bring the matter up with Fox when he saw her.
But right now he had to get Xanatos his coffee.
+ + + + + + + + + +
The telescope was just barely big enough to fit through the door into her apartment. She had to angle it just right or else risk knocking the eyepiece – even when it was folded up properly. She managed to eventually maneuver it into her bedroom, where she placed it back inside its case against the wall. Adjusting her glasses, which had been somewhat dislodged during the move, she went about getting ready for work.
She figured she was pretty lucky to still have the telescope. As much as the white gargoyle had seemed interested in the view, the female hadn't seemed very enthused at all. She'd feared for a moment that the angry creature would destroy it – perhaps even her, which is why she ran off. But apparently this hadn't been the case. She was glad for that. The telescope was old, and not the best of quality, but she wouldn't be able to afford a new one any time soon.
She had just finished buttoning up her blouse when there was a knock on her door. She paused, looking up questioningly. Who could possibly be at her apartment at this time of day? She rarely had visitors.
Peeping through the keyhole revealed a young man holding a bouquet of flowers. She was startled by this, and opened the door. Certainly they had the wrong address.
"Special delivery for a Miss Allison Black," he said curtly.
Nope. That was her name all right.
"Oh…" she said, not knowing what else to do. She accepted the flowers, after which he nodded to her and left. She didn't remember until after he was gone that she should have asked him who they were from.
Allison brought them inside and set them on her counter. There was an envelope attached to them with a long red ribbon. It took her a moment of struggling with the large and intricate bow that it had been tied in, but she finally managed to undo it and pull the letter off. The envelope was also red.
Looking from the letter to the flowers and wondering still who had sent them, she opened up the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. It was short, with only a couple of lines written in dark red ink.
Dear Miss Black,
You chose wrong.
She didn't understand. She was about to set the letter down when it burst into flames. She cried out in fear as the bouquet suddenly began to shrivel and die, and a noxious gas began to spill from the remains.
Allison backed away and covered her mouth with both hands as the gas steadily filled the room. She ran for her door only to find it locked. She panicked and banged desperately upon the door, screaming in between coughs. But there was no response.
The gas was so thick now that she could hardly see. Her throat was on fire and she found herself unable to breathe. She could feel herself growing faint, and her knees buckled, sending her to the floor.
Not understanding, and wondering why this was happening to her, she passed out on the floor.
Unbeknownst to anyone, the window to her apartment opened gently from the outside, and the vapors were swept up in the early afternoon breeze, to be lost in the atmosphere.
+ + + + + + + + + +
SEVARIUS: (dramatically) "Yes! I betrayed you. You robbed me of my greatest creation – my ultimate achievement! I only took back what was mine…!" (whispered) "There. How was that?"
XANATOS: …?