Disclaimer: I don't own Gargoyles.... seems silly we have to keep repeating that every chapter, but I do it anyway, because it is the fanfiction way.

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"There she is!" an excited Lex bursts out, running over to perch himself behind my head.

I grin while the other two gather around me in my living room.

"Hey! We thought you gave up," Brooklyn mentions, sitting next to me on the floor, my fingers still flying over the keyboard of my laptop.

"I know. Just a lot of things going on," I mumbled, thoroughly engrossed in his and Aine's next adventure.

"We're real sorry to hear about your Dad," Broadways consoles, sitting across from him, putting blue talons on my arm.

My fingers stop. Looking at these fun fellas, I'm glad they're here. Glad for a change of pace.

"Well," I start slowly, "he was sick a long time. He's in a better place now, and I'm ready to get moving again."

"Rock and Roll," Brooklyn grins, shouldering me in a friendly way.

We all laugh and I keep typing.

I'm sorry to keep my readers hanging, and thank you for your patience. Dad passed away 12/23/08 from colon cancer – it was awhile before and after that I felt like writing again, but seriously, time waits for no one.

Rock and Roll.

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Chapter 4 – Compromised!

Daytime moved without a sound in the cave, shadows moving across the opening with the passing of the sun. Outside coyotes picked up the songs birds left behind, announcing the beginning of a new night.

Inside the forms of Aine and Brooklyn began to break apart, shattering with the flexing of their muscles. Brooklyn's yawn roared in the cave, echoing against the rocky hallways. Aine blinked at his open announcement of their awakening – something no gargoyle that had spent a lifetime running would ever do.

Noticing her discomfort, he grinned his most engaging smile.

"So friend, what's for breakfast?"

She stared at him for a minute more before giving in to laughter.

"Guess the lycanthrope don't worry you, huh?" she finally gasped, snickering more at his incredulous look.

Brooklyn let embarrassment play across his features at her implied reprimand before his brain caught up to the conversation.

"Well, I'm not saying they don't creep me out, but a gargoyle can only go so long on an empty stomach," he reproached her with a wink. "After all, we skipped sleeping in the sun, so we can use all the energy we can get. Breakfast, then we worry about getting you home."

Aine couldn't help but admire his decisiveness. Not many of the males she knew had that characteristic.

"Hmmm... I have a friend nearby. Maybe she can whip something up."

Brooklyn beamed approvingly.

"Let's go!"

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Xanatos met Sabine at McCormick's, a high class bar set against the Manhattan skyline. Live music crooned from the mouth of a beautiful black woman, dressed in a deep blue gown, setting a mood of warmth and romance. He smiled at his conquest as he sat down, waving for the waiter. Knowing Xanatos on sight, the waiter quickly grabbed the rich man's favorite bottle of wine and hurried over. Sabine continued to twirl her cocktail around with the little umbrella.

"Thanks Antoine. I'll call you if I need anything else."

"Of course, Mr. Xanatos."

The waiter quickly walked away, taking the hint Xanatos threw at him. He had been around long enough to know that swiftness always brought about a larger tip – especially swiftness in leaving.

David Xanatos looked Sabine over carefully, before pulling papers out of his leather jacket, placing them in front of her.

"Report of Brooklyn's landing. He's there and he's with some female named 'Aine', that this Maia is going nuts over."

She smiled coyly and look a long sip from her drink.

"Any trouble?" she innocently asked when she finished.

Xanatos leaned forward. "Cut the act, Sadie. I know the difference between the two of you. You never could pull off Sabine's class, and you know it."

Sadie's sly grin made David uncomfortable as she licked her upper teeth, but he held his ground, knowing to back down would be a fatal mistake with her.

"It worked once, and that was enough."

David leaned back and coolly observed her. If he could cut Sadie out of the picture and deal only with Sabine, he would do it. He wasn't surprised at the twin's switch - Sabine still kept him at arms length, allowing the two who were least likely to be trusted to deal with each other. If there was a redeeming quality about Sabine's naive trust, it was that once bitten, she was quite shrewd. The switch was something he could appreciate.

"There was a little trouble," he continued with the original conversation, ignoring her innuendo. "Apparently they were attacked by some creatures I didn't know were in existence, and now he's missing."

Sabine's fingers tapped against the table, looked slightly disconcerted.

"And I'm wondering," he leaned forward, not without a touch of malice in his voice, "which one of you is going to tell Goliath?"

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Aine and Brooklyn made their way to her friend's home, where she insisted there would be no need for caution. She explained that her human friend was beyond questioning, friendship and loyalty proven time and again. Brooklyn had his reservations towards her arrogance, but followed her lead as he had no other plans of recourse. He was alone with her in a strange area, and with the lycanthrope roaming around, he figured if anyone knew where safety was, she did. Still, for all that, humans were not, as a rule, to be trusted. At least, not until they proved themselves worthy of it. In spite of Aine's insistence of safety, Brooklyn formed his own plans of how best to take care of business.

Aine landed directly on the ground, a bold move showing her familiarity. She glanced up to watch Brooklyn glide to the safety of the rooftop. She shook her head and chuckled at his evident misgivings. Her silver white shoulders shrugged, understanding his uneasiness with the situation. If their roles had been reversed, she might be on the roof watching him completely at ease where she stood. She waved before going to the door and knocking.

He observed silently from above, holding his breath when the human answered. He scanned the woods with a keen eye watching for the shadows to move. He wasn't sure what he would do if the creatures started leaping out, but he was astute enough to realize that both of them stuck in one spot wasn't a good idea. All of his instincts screamed at him this was not a safe haven, but without reason to back them up, all he could do was stay on alert. Aine flashed a questioning look at him as she entered in, but he motioned to her to remain quiet.

She entered the humble domain behind the tall Native American, glancing around at her surroundings. Not noticing anything out of the usual, she sighed in relief.

"Clara, I'm sorta on the run. Got a sandwich and that radio of yours?"

"Of course. I heard about the trouble," she added.

Clara grabbed a small radio out of the kitchen cabinet and handed it to a surprised Aine.

"How?"

"I always listen in to see what you're up too," her friend responded, pulling out two slices of bread and opening the fridge.

Aine laughed. "Must be pretty boring." She looked at the dial, surprised to find it still on the correct frequency.

"Sometimes. Last night was pretty exciting though. A helicopter pilot called in and said the werewolves were attacking."

"Werewolves? Yeah, I guess you could call them that... "

"Isn't that what they are?"

Aine hesitated, watching Clara fix her sandwich and placed it before her. She hated to admit how right Brooklyn was – gargoyles could only go so long without food, and she hadn't taken time to eat the night before. As often as she had eaten here, something tingled a warning in the back of her mind. Deciding it must be her companion's paranoia rubbing off on her, she shoved caution to the wind and put the radio down so she could take a large bite.

"Well," she began to answer the question after she swallowed. "I don't know. They sure don't wait until the full moon to show up. And it doesn't take a silver bullet to kill them either. So if that's what a werewolf is, then that ain't them."

Clara's eyes slit thoughtfully.

"You seem to know a lot about them," she ventured.

Aine took another bite. I must have been hungrier than I thought, she mentally told herself. I'm getting a little woozy.

"I guess," was all she replied to Clara. "Hey, you mind making me another? I'm famished."

Clara nodded and turned to pull out another two slices of bread.

Aine put down the sandwich and grabbed the two way radio. She flipped the button, but no sound greeted her. She looked at her friend expectantly.

"Oh, batteries must be dead. Hang on."

Clara left the front room, mumbling to herself. Aine made a swift move to the window, and opened it. The air had shifted, giving her a chilly blast that made her shiver. It seemed to clear her head somewhat, but not enough to feel stable. She hoped Brooklyn would notice the sound and come to investigate. She wasn't disappointed.

"What's up?" he whispered to her, peering upside down in the window.

"Nothing. She getting batteries for the radio," she impatiently whispered back, beckoning for him to come inside.

Brooklyn cocked his head.

"Why would you have dead batteries in a radio you use for emergencies?"

"She was listening in on Maia's transmissions."

"I thought only a few people knew that."

"Hmmm. Yeah. I must've left it on sometime."

Brooklyn gave her a look of contempt. "That's careless."

Aine shrugged. It was getting harder to focus. He seemed to be changing colors right before her eyes.

"Hmmmm."

Brooklyn heard noises announcing Clara's return, but was more concerned at Aine's apparent change of demeanor.

"You okay?"

"I dunno. I feel weird."

He grabbed her and pulled her through the window just as Clara returned. He carried her to the rooftop and surveyed her carefully.

"Did she inject you with something?" he hissed, trying to keep their voices down so Clara wouldn't hear them.

"Nooo. Clara is my friend," she insisted. She began to rock back and forth in a hippie fashion. "Ever notice how your skin looks like fire?"

Brooklyn blinked. She was obviously drugged, but not by the means he had come to know thanks to Xanatos and Quarrymen. Whatever it was, it was fast acting. Clara's voice calling Aine's name floated to his ears, bringing him out of his reverie.

"Did you eat something? Drink something?" he insisted, gripping her shoulders tightly.

"Drink? I could use a drink. That sandwich was a little dry...."

He placed her gently down on on the roof.

"Don't move," he commanded, his shoulders squaring.

He stealthily climbed down the side of the house, watching Clara move back inside. The window had been closed and he noticed that now she had the radio working, speaking rapidly into it. Thinking about the best course of action, he decided on how to best advance upon her. He didn't want to give up his vantage point in the air, but they needed the radio, and he needed to know what Clara had slipped Aine.

Clara heard tuned just as Brooklyn showered her in glass. Her eyes glowed red as her nails began to grow, her face beginning to distort at his advance. Thinking quickly, he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her hard into the wall, her claws digging into his arm.

"Man, you freaks are everywhere!" Brooklyn yelled, frustrated by his discovery. He slammed her again, this time stunning her somewhat.

Saliva dripped from Clara's fangs that spoke chilling words in a deep throaty voice, the tongue rolling lazily in her mouth just enough to slur her words.

"You can't save her. She must die."

Brooklyn's eyes glowed white with the rush of adrenaline. He threw the distorted form of Clara across the room with a force he rarely felt, sending her crashing into the table, unconscious.

"Yeah, well, I guess that's why I'm still alive," he told the still form. "I don't know how to listen. Just ask Goliath."

He picked up the radio and checked the volume. He could hear voices coming from the transmitter, affirming that whatever Clara had done to the radio before, was fixed now. He glanced at her lying there, now transforming back into the human form, her clothing somewhat torn from the immediate transformation.

"That's spooky," he told the unconscious form.

He quickly checked out the kitchen for anything she might have given his new companion. He found a bag with a white substance in it, next to the toaster hidden from the doorway. Doing like he had seen Matt Bluestone do on the force anytime they found a suspicious substance in New York, he put a little in his hand to put on his tongue, careful to spit it out quickly.

"Yeah, that ain't sugar," he asserted. Noting the newly made sandwich, he grimaced at the twinge he felt in his stomach. Deciding it would be better to go without than risk both of them being drugged, he ignored the pangs of hunger and kicked open the back door, scaling the wall with his talons to greet a stumbling Aine at the top, twirling around.

"What're you doing?" he forcefully asked her grabbing her arm.

"Dancing with the butterflies," she told him, a touch of innocence in her rounded eyes.

Brooklyn frowned. "Uh-huh. There's no butterflies around here, and we gotta move."

Aine smiled lazily and grabbed his face, pointing to the floating gray clouds against the midnight sky.

"See them? The sky is FULL of butterflies. So pretty...."

Her voice trailed as she resumed her trance-like stumbling across the rooftop. Brooklyn watched her a minute, not knowing whether to laugh or sigh. Remembering the vision of what lay below them quickly dispelled the former, realizing it wouldn't be long before Clara awoke and went to report the loss of the two-way radio. They needed to move fast.

"Look what I found," he said aloud, holding out the two-way radio.

"Wheee!" she squealed like a young hatching. "You got it! I hope you were nice to Clara," she warned, wagging her finger while she stumbled back towards him. Her wings had abandoned their usual place of being tucked neatly on her arms in a mock stole, left instead to float behind her forgotten in the trip she was currently on.

He took her into his arms when she reached, him, scooping her up just as he would a hatchling, letting her hold the precious radio. He lifted them into the air with a leap, rising into the clouds just as a jeep roared into the front yard, releasing two men in tattered clothes. Brooklyn kept moving, not interested in what happened to Clara. Instead, he moved them back to the only secure place he knew - the place he and Aine had spent the night before.

Then the radio squawked again, this time a clear, deep female voice coming through.

"Hey, that's Maia!" Aine told him.

Brooklyn smiled without looking at her. Keeping his concerns to himself, he answered back nonchalantly, "Why don't you tell her you're at Clara's?"

Aine giggled. "But we aren't."

"Well, we were, and you don't want to waste the surprise do you?"

"The surprise?"

"Yeah - think of how surprised Maia's going to be when we show up."

"Ooooh - that will be fun!"

"Ye-ah," was Brooklyn's dry reply, his eyes never leaving the terrain beneath him.

She wiggled a little in his arms, making him very aware that she was not a hatchling, but instead a full adult female. He stiffened his arms in an effort not to notice while she settled, speaking into the mike sluggishly, "Maia?"

Maia's voice came through loudly, tinged with excitement and panic.

"Aine?! Where are you?"

"Mmmm at Clara's," she giggled. "Gettin' a sandwich."

"A what? You went all the way over there for a sandwich? Were you followed? Is that Brooklyn with you? Aine? Aine! AINE?!"

Aine had broken into a fit of giggles, unable to speak. Brooklyn groaned in exasperation at her inability to focus. He found a clear patch of rock below to land. Landing, he set the giggling Aine on the ground, grabbed the radio in spite of giggled protests, and cleared his throat.

"This is Brooklyn."

"Brooklyn. Is she alright?"

"Uh, no. Looks like she's been drugged."

"How? Who? Are you still at Clara's?"

"No. Clara has... gone to the other side."

He heard minor swearing going on the end, while a flurry of voices made it impossible to discern any messages being given on the other side. Sighing, he patiently waited for the voices to calm down, enjoying the sight of Aine swatting at the "butterflies" that seemed to be increasing in number.

"Where are you now?" came the next barked question.

Brooklyn looked around. "I don't know. There aren't any landmarks."

"Where's Aine? What's wrong with her?"

"She's with me. She's unable to focus because her friend drugged her," he answered, unable to keep the disdain from his voice.

The radio was silent for a long pause. When Maia spoke again, it was thick with emotion.

"Brooklyn, I want you to take her East. Clara's place is almost a full night's glide, and it's already several hours past sunset. But I can get you to a safe place. Can you glide for a few hours?"

Brooklyn sighed. Knowing he was going to have to carry Aine the whole way made him hesitate. Maybe it would be better to wait, he hoped.

"I can, but I haven't eaten in two days and I have to carry her," he replied. "Wouldn't it be better to hole up here until she can glide herself?"

Another long pause from the radio.

"Brooklyn, I promise you a meal fit for kings when you get here. It's not safe to stay still – they'll be looking for you, even in the daytime. If they compromised Clara, then chances are they've been watching Aine for sometime, and they'll know all her old haunts. It would be best if you kept moving, to a place I've kept safe for her."

His eyes never left the white female's dance of leisure while Maia spoke. Knowing he had a long glide ahead of them both, he let his eyes feast on the performance in front of him. He highly doubted she was like this when she wasn't drugged, and she was beautiful. A smile formed on his lips, the radio waiting for him to affirm.

"Alright," he finally interjected, snapping back to the task at hand. "We're on our way east."

"Good," came the brisk response. "Tell her you're headed toward the racing area. She might be able to help get you there."

"We're on our way," he assured her.

He moved towards Aine quickly, grabbing her waist and pulling her close., intending to carry her for the trip East. He half expected her to retaliate, but instead he was met with more giggles.

"I wondered when you'd notice me," she slyly flirted, twisting her body around to wrap her arms around his neck.

"I bet you say that to all the males," he declared without expression, willing himself to focus. "Just like you invite them all to your pleasure palace in the cave."

"Bet I don't," she winked back.

"Uh... I just talked to Maia," he asserted, willing himself to forget how much he had fantasized about her before even starting on his adventure. Her being attracted to him through a haze was not what he had in mind. "She wants us to head east, towards the racing area."

"Hmmm.... so that's what Maia wants. What do you want?" she giggled, letting her hand trace his arm up to his shoulder.

Brooklyn gave her a lopsided grin.

"You to be sober enough to glide yourself."

Aine's lips danced with mirth.

"I am sober!"

Brooklyn rolled his eyes, removing her hands from him.

"Sure you are."

In the distance, rolling thunder announced a storm's impending arrival.

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Sabine shook slightly in the wake of Goliath's wrath. The giant gargoyle had displayed a massive amount of power in the rage he felt at his second-in-command's disappearance. Xanatos stood in the doorway, grim, attentive to the exchange between them, Eliza standing by his side. They all held their breath waiting for the great giant to speak, hunched over in the agony of incapacitation, helpless to come to his friend's rescue.

Finally, he rose.

"If anything happens to him, no one, nothing, will stop me from killing you," he flatly informed Sabine.

She nodded her consent to his grief.

"I know they'll both be fine. Aine's got a good head on her shoulders. And Brooklyn... well, you wouldn't have sent him if you hadn't believed he could handle himself, now would you?" she tentatively addressed him.

Goliath grunted, and steadily walked out of the room, Eliza following close behind. Xanatos continued to observe Sabine slowly exhale a long breath.

"Told you it wouldn't be pleasant," he taunted her.

She smiled weakly.

"How about a drink?"

"Of course. Come in my office – I hide some of my best stuff in there."

Sabine rubbed the back of her neck.

"I hope your 'best' means stiff."

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The thunder gave way to a torrential rain. Brooklyn could barely see 10 feet in front of him, and had lost sight of the ground some time ago. Which, he reflected, wasn't all that bad. If he couldn't see the ground, then chances were prying eyes couldn't see them either. However, his sense of direction was getting befuddled. If they were going to make it anywhere near where Maia wanted them, they were going to have to climb higher over the clouds so he could see the stars.

Aine was dead weight though. She had passed out in his arms awhile back, probably an hour or so was his guess. He had tried waking her once or twice, to no avail. He counted himself lucky she was still breathing, and dreaming in a pleasant manner. Watching the druggies of Manhattan come off their trips before retreating to his own world where drugs weren't even spoken of had given him a nasty disposition towards the stuff. Perhaps her friend had been kind in choosing the drug, although the chilling words "she must die" made him highly doubt that reasoning.

Seeing the outline of a tall cliff, he altered his wings just enough to climb higher along the sloping terrain. Finding a safe spot to stash her, he lay Aine down in a small bowl made by the freak natures of Earth. Gently releasing the radio from her sleeping hands, he once again glided into the night, climbing to clear the wet clouds.

Once above, he felt himself breath deeply. Quickly judging his whereabouts from the stars, he concluded they had only deviated a short ways Southeast. Taking stock of his weakening condition, he put the radio to his long mouth.

"Maia."

"Brooklyn? Are you at the racing area?"

"Can't see it. The rain's really thick, and we deviated about 5 degrees Southeast."

"Where's Aine?"

"She passed out. I put her in a safe place."

"Brooklyn, there are few safe places here," the crackling voice admonished. "Are there any landmarks?"

"Just the cliff I put her on. Had to get above the clouds to get my bearings – too weak to carry her that high."

"I understand. Hang on."

The radio stood silent for a moment. Brooklyn, feeling queezy, started his decent back to Aine's hiding place.

"Are you with her now?"

"No. On my way though," he admitted.

"Give me a place of reference. One that only a gargoyle might be able to discern," the voice instructed.

Brooklyn stared hard through the gray, cursing the skies for working against him.

"Just where I put her," he told her after a long pause. He gently landed beside her with a splash, causing her to roll in her sleep.

"What does it look like?"

"A bowl."

Another pregnant pause.

"One of us is nearly there. I'm calling the others to come and help you. Stay there."

"No problem," Brooklyn acknowledged, the sarcasm in his voice barely hidden.

He stepped across the cratered area to kneel beside Aine's white form. Water had soaked her hair, the bowl beginning to fill faster than Brooklyn was comfortable with. He found himself lifting her head, placing it on his lap to give her more comfort. His hand automatically smoothed her hair back, more to comfort himself than her.

"They'll be here soon," he told the still form. "They'll be here soon."

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"I don't see why we can't go and find him," Lexington declared, his fist clenched in the air. "If it was us..."

"If it was us, Brooklyn would say the same thing," Goliath stated.

"But Goliath, what if they don't find him? Are we supposed to sit by and do nothing?" Broadway interjected, holding Angela's hand tightly. He was more than aware she hadn't spoken a word since news of Brooklyn's disappearance.

"We wait for now. He's too far away and it's too late in the evening for you to do anything. If we don't hear anything by tomorrow..." Eliza started.

"But anything could have happened to him by then," Lex interrupted.

Goliath glowered, his eyes glowing bright white.

"Then pity those that harmed him."

**********************************

The wind whipped Brooklyn's long hair into a frenzy behind him, blowing rain so hard he couldn't see anything but water. Hearing a familiar sound, he lifted Aine in his arms, careful to keep the radio between them. He stepped towards the edge of the bowl, his wings poised for flight in a moment's notice. Again, the snarls close above registered in his ears, sending him over the edge into the air. He took time to glance back, noting the three dark forms roaming the area he had just perched on.

Desperate to find the other gargoyles that Maia promised, and wanting to warn any others from falling prey to the beasts below, Brooklyn let out a roar. The three ghostly figures lifted their heads, howling in unison. Brooklyn grimaced as he climbed higher, when suddenly he heard a return call.

Moving towards the sound through a wall of greyness, he roared again. The answering call came louder. By the deepness of it, Brooklyn judged it to be male. He flapped his wings to gain momentum, calling and listening every few minutes to check himself. Always the return call sounded nearer, until the last call confirmed they had passed each other in the darkness.

"Brooklyn?" he heard a yell.

"HERE!" he affirmed. The whooshing sounds of wings grew closer.

"I still can't see you!" a voice yelled back.

"You're close!" Brooklyn returned. "I can hear your wings!"

A large yellow male appeared like a ghostly apparition at his side.

"Man, Maia doesn't know it's this bad out here," the male addressed him. "How's Aine doing?"

Brooklyn looked down at the sleeping figure.

"Sleeps like the dead."

The male chuckled, lifting his arms in an offering to take the load from Brooklyn's.

"Let me help you out there."

"Thanks," Brooklyn gasped, accepting the help gratefully.

"What made you move? I was almost there," the male asked him, moving back toward the way he had come with Brooklyn following.

"They found us, those wolf things. Didn't want anyone looking for us to stumble on them."

"For that, I thank you," the male agreed. "By the way, I'm Rad."

"Nice to meet you, Rad. Where we going?"

"To our place of refuge. You were closer than we let on – just in case."

"In case of what?"

"The radio had been compromised."

"I think that's been established," came the dry answer.

"You know, Brooklyn, I think you're right."

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End Chapter 4

R&R always welcomed, encouraged, and appreciated!