DISCLAIMER

DISCLAIMER!:

All the characters appearing in Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The Goliath Chronicles are copyright Buena Vista Television/The Walt Disney Company. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder.

All other original characters belong to me and may not be used with my permission.

--

It was raining lightly by the time Jack Kasandy and Monroe Sweet arrived at the red brick building that would serve its part in deciding the fate of two soldiers. It was a moderate building, stretching just short of half a football field. Round white windows peeked out from the storage rooms, like they did in every brick building. The larger square ones revealed soldiers already as busy as a swarm of ants. Curtains shielded more than a few rooms from the over curious eye. From all appearances it looked like it was just going to be another typical day at Fort Lewis. However, nothing could be further from typical than the reason that had brought them there this morning.

Command Sergeant Major C.C. Jenkins and Captain Gilhoon stood in the doorway of the building. The CSM was a tall, muscular African-American man of about 38 with deep brown eyes and currently a thoughtful expression. Neither of them took notice of the other people moving around them in and out of the building. Deep in discussion, the captain barely glanced at those who remembered to salute him and didn't even bother with those who didn't. There was something much more important going on this morning that made rank seem trivial. It wasn't until Kasandy saluted them with the battalion motto of "Whatever it takes" did they look up and take notice.

"Did you get what we needed," Gilhoon asked.

The first sergeant nodded. "Yes sir we did."

"Good, we've got about twenty minutes before the battalion commander arrives and we need to see what we've got to work with," Jenkins said. "Let's go to the war room."

The conference room or War Room was huge. The best way to describe it was to say it was spacious – a large circular room where one could walk twenty-five paces from one side to the other. A horseshoe shaped table sat at the northern end of the room, framing half the circle with sort of an inner ring look to it – though broken in three places to allow a shorter trip to the center. Fifteen chairs sat between the table and the wall.

Taking four of the seats, the three men sat down and went over the information they had gotten – explaining it to the CSM as thoroughly as possible.

"So, gentlemen," Colonel Caldwell said as he entered, "where do we start?"

Jack Kasandy spoke up first. "Colonel Caldwell, we have under our command in my squad two soldiers who are, by means of some sort of magical spell, no longer human in appearance. They would be here this morning making their own case before you, but circumstances prevent that." His nerves were eating him up, but he continued. "You'll see before you a letter typed and signed by the soldiers in question, not to mention pictures of before, after, and this morning. Smith and Vasquez are what these scrolls describe as Gargoyles. Now, we've all seen the glorified rain spouts on the sides of building, but that's not what these two are." He rubbed his hands together nervously, realizing he was botching up bad. "What I'm trying to say is that Gargoyles are protectors. According to the scrolls, protecting others is a basic instinct in this race. Whether or not we want to accept it, magic exists. On some plane, some level, these two soldiers were able to tap into something that transformed them into their present state. We don't know what it is. These two are Wicca, so they believe that all things have a sort of energy or life force to it. That energy can be used for healing, protection, comfort – any number of things." Kasandy took a deep breath before continuing. "To be honest, I know very little about their faith. I'm a Christian. I'm just shooting from the hip of the information I have, which is what is in front of you all."

Monroe Sweet stood up and joined his NCO in the center of the ring. "What we must take into account is that these two soldiers could have just taken off and gone into hiding. Instead, they went through their chain of command starting with sergeant Kasandy and gave everyone a heads up on the situation. They are more than prepared to accept whatever decision we – their superiors – make for them. They've translated the scrolls for you, given you all the information they know. They've not lost anything in this transformation, except the day time. We spoke with them from the time the sun set until nearly ten. Nearly five hours! They've retained their intelligence, their speech capacity. They're nimble, strong, and they can glide."

"What it comes down to," Captain Gilhoon interrupted as he stood with the others, "is that these two soldiers are prepared to do anything necessary to complete their enlistment. They would gladly stay in and serve their country in whatever way Uncle Sam can use their new skills. This includes, quoting Vasquez, 'night recon assignments, airborne unit, or scare tactics'. They will take a discharge of whatever we feel is appropriate if that winds up the case. They will even leave Fort Lewis if ordered. They only ask that you do not lock them up in a science lab or have them destroyed."

Colonel Caldwell's eyes darted to the three men standing before him. "Why would we deny them the right to live?"

It was the command sergeant major who answered him. "They're afraid, sir."

The others turned to look at him.

"Honestly, I know less than anyone standing here on what happened these past two days, but from what I've heard, I can answer that last question." C.C. stood up and walked over to the commander's chair. "You have Smith, who just recently lost the rest of her family, and her friend Vasquez … how many times have we seen this pair on a task that had to be done in a limited amount – perhaps too short – of time and get it done? On the other hand, how many times have we had them in our offices for not following the rules of our military? Yes, they get the job done, but they didn't do it right or something. All other times, the consequences weren't so… disastrous. This time, the rules didn't really apply here. They found an old box. Nothing that I know of says that old boxes have to be turned in to the chain of command. They found some scrolls. Again, not military related. We'd probably have given them to the museum or something." He took a breath and continued. "They're afraid. They're not human in appearances, from my understanding. Look at how the military; hell, the world even; treats gays, immigrants, even the disabled. 'Good' people sneer in disgust or simply avoid these situations entirely. It would be below them to even acknowledge the differences in other 'normal' beings."

Caldwell nodded. "Yes," he responded, "I know. What are the benefits for the US Government if we keep these two soldiers in our great army? What can they offer Uncle Sam? I've gone through all the cons – several times, I might add. Media field day, mass public hysteria, religious hysteria ta boot. Why should they stay?"

Licking his lips, Chuck interjected. "It's a good question, really, but I think I have a good answer. You have before you the information and request on two hard working, dedicated, motivated, strong Wiccan soldiers, who by some strange coincidence found a box and some scrolls. Their belief in whatever – be it magic, faeries, pixie dust, whatever – gave them the ability to cast this spell and turned them into Gargoyles. Fate, coincidence, whatever. We are supposed to be a fair army, a fair military. Here we are, given that chance to prove it, and you're asking why? The army is the only family Smith has left. I know. I had to deliver the Red Cross message to her. Vasquez's family hasn't wanted anything to do with him since he met Smith. I'm not trying to pull out the sympathy card, but the facts are all in front of you. You say we're a great army. I say prove it. Put their new talents to good use. Let them stay in."

The colonel mulled his thoughts over briefly in front of the men standing before him. "A month is the length of time we have. I want Smith and Vasquez on leave for the next thirty days. Anyone ask; they're on special assignment."

"Sir?" Captain Gilhoon looked perplexed. "Why a month?"

"Because, captain," he replied. "That's how long you have to find me four soldiers who won't run screaming and who are willing to work nights for the rest of their time here. Waivers will be required. Dismissed."

The four men snapped to attention and marched out of the room. A glance at the clock revealed that more time had passed than it had felt.

"Sergeant, I want you to go check on your wife and Mrs. Sweet. Everyone else should get back to work." Captain Gilhoon headed for his office even before his soldiers responded.

Nodding, the four men went their directions.

--

"You did what," Jack asked of his wife when he had heard her out. "Where'd you get this information?" A small green pamphlet lay in his lap and a brown one lay next to him. One labeled "Gargoyles", the other "Wicca."

Rebecca nodded as she brandished a third pamphlet, this one white and labeled "Reaching Out." "We're educating people. We got the information from the computer here."

"How far out of hand do you two see this going," he sighed.

With an almost choreographed movement, both women crossed their arms and sighed. It was Vivian who spoke though. "Well, I don't expect a civil war over it, but I'm afraid religion will play a bigger part in it than rank and military training."

"Look," Jack said, "there are certain rules and decorum…"

"Jack," Vivian said in her smoothest tone, "sometimes decorum is thrown right out the window, along with the rights of other people. Monroe and I have seen it time and time again. I'm sure you and Rebecca have as well, you haven't recognized it." She paced briefly across the floor before stopping and speaking again. "Monroe and I were talking about this. People fear what they don't know. So if we get the information out to them they've no reason to fear gargoyles. If we wait, we could do more harm than good."

"But jumping the gun might not be the smartest way to deal with it either," he interrupted. "People aren't ready."

"Jack!" Rebecca's voice cut through the room. "They never will be ready. People are prejudice as is right now. With their monstrous, almost demonic features Smith and Vasquez don't stand a snowball's chance you know where right now."

"Ok, how do you plan on explaining magic?"

His wife chuckled as she walked over to him and kissed him lightly on the nose. "There are some things, my dear husband, that have no explanations. You just have to believe."

--

Several hours later

Sunset was creeping closer and closer as the shadows stretched across the room. Turning on a light, Rebecca went to check the estimated time for sunset one more time.

"Bec, I doubt it changed any from the last three times you looked at it," yawned Jack. "Why don't you go help Viv in the kitchen, hm?"

Nodding, Rebecca took a look at the assembled people in the room before heading for the kitchen.

--

A tell tale network of cracks could be heard appearing on the surfaces of the two statues, but two screens blocked the sight from being seen. Only the first sergeant stood near the screens, waiting with rapt fascination for the minute explosion that he had witness the last night. He was also there to give commands, but he seriously doubted that watching these two wake up would ever get old. It was only seconds later that two loud roars filled the room – causing most of those assembled to flinch – followed almost immediately by First Sergeant Sweet snapping out, "ATTENTION!"

The result was instantaneous. Smith and Vasquez snapped upright and stood stock still.

Chuckling, Colonel Caldwell moved towards the other. "Relax soldiers. We're only here to fill you in on the details of today's meeting." He would continue talking for a few long minutes before coming to the point. "We are a fair military. We employ all sorts of people from all sorts of places with all sorts of backgrounds. That in mind, you will be allowed to continue your military services until a final decision is reached. All the information you have given us is deemed classified. As of this moment, you both are leave for the next thirty days. Familiarize yourselves with your new bodies, learn to use your wings, and work out any business you can over the internet or phone at night. You will be under the watchful eyes of your superiors. If within this next month we can not find a more permanent position for you in the company, you will be on 'special extended assignment' while we investigate other options. If within a year we can not find a safe position for you in the military, – safe being where you will not be shattered during your sleep - you will be discharged and allowed to leave. Now, if there are no questions, we shall take our leave of you."

A stunned silence filled the room for a half a moment before voices broke out all around the room. The loudest one belonged to Smith herself as she said, "What the hell do you mean "no questions", sir? I for one have about a dozen."

Captain Gilhoon commanded everyone's attention by bellowing, "Attention!"

The two gargoyles locked up.

C.C looked at Smith carefully for a long moment; he even stepped around her to get a complete view of the female. "You forget, specialist, that you are still a part of the US military. Would you care to rephrase that last question?"

Jessica nodded. "Yes, sergeant major, I would. What I meant to say was that I have a few questions, sergeant major."

The colonel nodded. "Permission to speak, Smith."

"Sir," she started. "What's going to happen when people start asking about us, sir? I mean we do have fellow soldiers who will want to know why they haven't seen us, sir."

"Special assignment, classified. Even you understand that, yes?"

"Sir, yes sir," she replied.

Vasquez spoke up. "Sir, who do we report to now?"

Caldwell allowed himself a smirk. "The same men who defended you do diligently this morning and all day. It was they who suggested this meeting this evening. You are to still follow your chain of command, should anything else come up during your leave." He turned to look at Smith, who had found his shoes quite interesting. "Smith?"
"Sir," she questioned. "Do you think they'll make gargoyle sized footwear?"

That broke the tension. The assembled group chuckled at the female, who still looked down at the shoes in confusion.

"No, Smith," he replied. "I don't think they will." He turned to the others. "On that note, I shall depart. Good night ladies, gentlemen."

Nodding that he understood, Vasquez replied, "Yes sir. Thank you, sir." He closed the door as the colonel walked down the sidewalk. Half a breath later, there was silence once again.

Silence. It can be so loud at times. I can feel every beat of my heart pounding like a drum in my ears. I'm forcing out every breath I take. It's really tough to say how I feel right now. I'm sort of numb all over and yet every part of me feels like it's on fire. I've lost. Aaron and I are on our own again – only this time, we're not alone. A smile spread on Jessica's lips as she fell out of attention and let loose with a hearty chuckle. "I hate politics," she said between chuckles.

Aaron stared at her. "Oh great, she snapped."

The rest of the room was inclined to agree, but no one said anything out loud. It wasn't until Vivian and Rebecca stepped out of the kitchen did any one move. It was Vivian who would ask, "Did we miss something?"

Aaron shook his head. "No. Not really." he mumbled. He reached down and pulled Jessica up to a semi standing position.

She clapped him on the back. "We'll do it, babe. One person at a time." With a grin, she turned to the room at large. "My friends, I smell good food and it would be a shame to let it go to waste. Let us eat and be merry, for there is nothing that when given time can not be solved."

That said, the tension in the room evaporated a bit and they did indeed sit down to a good meal – for they shared it among friends.

--

Author's Note: You haven't seen the end of these characters. I mean there's still so much more I want to do with these guys.  Keep an eye out for Smith, Vasquez, Gilhoon, Sweet, Kasandy, and Jenkins in upcoming fics.

Please leave a review. Let me know what you'd like to see them doing outside the military.  Blessed be!