Author's Notes: Hi again. Yes, I'm still alive and hey! I managed to update in less than two months this time. Just a quick reminder that this story is rated T (PG-13) for alluded to relationships. Sorry, but we don't get to see more than some making out. Maybe someday my muse will be feeling frisky and I'll write a companion piece to this story.
Goliath gently lands on Elisa's balcony, carefully sets her on her feet and then capes his wings before following her inside. He quietly watches her as she shrugs her new jacket off, hangs it up on the coat rack, puts away her gun and then picks up Cagney for a scratch behind the ears. He can't take his eyes off of the myriad of thin red lines on her arms as she feeds her cat and it's all he can do to contain the growl building within him.
"Are you ok?" she finally asks as she steps up to him.
"Must they have scratched you to conduct their 'tests'?" he nearly growls.
"Unfortunately, yeah, they did," she sighs as she walks up to him and then smiles. "Though, that last one might not have been so bad if you hadn't growled at that poor technician when she was trying to administer the test."
"She was scratching you with a needle," he snarls.
"That's why it's called a 'scratch test'," she chuckles as she reaches up and caresses his face, fascinated by the texture of his skin. "At least we know that I'm not allergic to your saliva."
He makes a non-committal grunt as he runs his hands up and down her arms, wishing he could make the little red marks just disappear.
"You know, when I was little, my mother used to kiss my scratches and bruises to make them better," she softly tells him.
"And this helped them heal?" he asks, a brow ridge arched in surprise.
"No, but it did make me feel better," she replies as she looks up at him with hopeful eyes.
Taking the hint, he carefully takes a hold of the hand caressing his face and begins to kiss his way up her arm, starting at the wrist and ending at the edge of her short shirt sleeve. Her breath catches in her throat the instant his lips touch her skin and she can feel her heart starting to pound against her ribs. By the time he's done kissing her second arm, he's not in much better condition than she is.
As soon as he releases her other arm, she steps away from him and turns her back to him. He briefly wonders what he's done wrong until he sees her lift her shirt up and his gaze falls on her back which is covered with even more of these scratches. He softly traces one particularly swollen mark with his talon tip as she drops her shirt to the floor.
"Why is this one different than the others?" he asks quietly.
"That's whatever I'm allergic to," she replies just as softly. "I'll find out in a day or two what it is."
Instead of replying, he drops to his knees and gives that red, swollen spot an extra gentle and loving kiss. She gasps as his lips come in contact with the tender flesh and his hands come up, wrapping themselves around her ribs as he holds her still. With him behind her, the only part she can reach is his hands and lower arms and she begins to caress them as he kisses the other scratches on her back.
By the time he's done, her skin is completely flushed, she's nearly panting and all she wants to do is touch more of him. He gently turns her around and her arms snake around his neck as their lips meet. He pulls her towards him and when skin meets skin, it's all he can do to not to rip the rest of her clothes off and take her right on the floor. Even in his most passionate days with Demona, never has he had such an overwhelming desire to please and claim his mate.
"Bedroom," she gasps when they finally come up for air.
Without question, he stands up with her still in his arms as she wraps her legs around his torso and heads for that sacred place.
"So, Switzerland, huh?" Matt says as he takes a sip of his wine.
"Yeah," Gwen replies, blushing slightly.
"So, how'd you end up in The Big Apple?" he asks, his head tilting to the side.
"That's a long story," she automatically answers.
"I've got nothing but time," he points out.
"Oh, yeah, right," she says, her cheeks reddening even more. "Well, I'm from a tiny little town in the Swiss Alps in a tiny little valley and unless you know where it is, it's not likely you'll find it. I'm the youngest of four kids and the only girl. Needless to say, Mama was thrilled to finally have a daughter to whom she could teach all of the things a young lady should know to run and maintain a household. To bad that from the moment I learned to read, I always had my nose in a book."
"That must have driven her crazy," he chuckles.
"It drove her nuts," she confirms with a smile. "Since we lived on a farm there weren't a lot of books in the house and the nearest library was over an hour's drive away. It was always a treat for me when I got to go into town with dad about once a month."
"That must have been some library to let you have a book for a month," he muses.
"Well, I didn't get to keep them that long," she explains. "Dad always took them back on his return trip a week or so later."
"But you said that he went into town once a month," he observes.
"No, I said we went into town about once a month," she points out. "I went if I did all of my chores and since my nose was usually in a book…"
"The chores didn't always get done," he chuckles.
"Yeah," she responds as her cheeks turn pink again. "As it was, I read almost every book we owned so many times that the pages started to fall out."
"Almost every book?" he questions.
"Yeah, there was one book I wasn't ever allowed to touch," she replies.
"Must have been some book," he muses with a raised brow.
"It was," she confirms. "Remember how I told you I was descended from refugees from the British Isles?"
"Yeah and I was thinking how far away Switzerland is from the British Isles," he states, a look of suspicion on his face.
"Their leader was a lady of nobility, but with the political upheaval at the time a price was put on her head," she explains. "She and a group of others escaped with barely their lives and that book."
"So what's so special about that book?" he asks.
"She wrote her travels in it and it contains our family tree in it," she answers. "I'm a direct descendant of her."
"What do you know?" he smiles. "I'm taking a princess out to dinner."
"She was nobility, not royalty," she corrects with a smile.
"Could have fooled me," he replies as his gaze on her intensifies. "You're prettier than any princess I've ever seen."
"Thank you," she whispers while she quickly takes a sip of her water as her cheeks turn a lovely shade of red.
"So anyways, you've read all the books in the house except for that one…," he prompts.
"I drove my poor mother to her wits end," she continues. "Unlike other little girls, I wasn't interested in learning to cook or mend or can food or anything a proper farmer's wife should know how to do. To make matters even worse, any time the vet would come and visit, I was right there wanting to know what he was doing, why he was doing it and could he teach me to do it. By the time I was twelve, my parents realized there was no way I was going to be happy living a simple life like they do, so they started looking at alternatives for me. When I was fourteen, one of my cousins married an American and moved to Boston. There was a lot of letters and phone calls between her and my parents and the day after my sixteenth birthday, I got on a plane and flew to Boston. My cousin became my legal guardian and I lived with her until I moved to New York. I busted my buns, got my GED and then put myself through college, but it was worth it. I graduated a couple of years ago and by sheer bloody luck, I got an internship at the Bronx Zoo that turned into a regular job."
"That's quite the tale," he replies, his eyes narrowing a bit. "But why do I have the feeling you're not telling me everything?"
"What, you want to hear how I only managed to get through school by putting myself so far into dept that my grandchildren will be paying off my loans?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Is it really that bad?" he questions.
"Not really, but sometimes it feels that way," she sighs.
"So, what are your plans after you're in the black?" he inquires.
"I want to go home," she tells him wistfully.
"I didn't think the date was going that badly," he jokes.
"To Switzerland," she clarifies, quietly chuckling.
"For good?" he inquires.
"That's my plan," she calmly replies.
"Why?" he questions.
"Why do I want to go home?" she counters in disbelief.
"No, why become a doctor for lions and tigers and bears if you're just going to go back to the farm?" he clarifies. "What's the point?"
"Switzerland has zoos too," she points out. "Just because I return to my native country doesn't mean I'm going to live out the middle of nowhere. I like living in the city and my plan is to live in one of the bigger cities and work there."
"Why can't you just do that here?" he asks.
"I could if I never want to see my family again," she replies a bit exasperated by his thick headedness. "I haven't seen my parents or brothers in over a decade. I have nieces and nephews I've never met. How would you feel if you knew that you'd never see your family again?"
"Sorry, I guess I hadn't thought of it that way," he replies remorsefully. "I guess your family can't come out here."
"No, there are a lot of people who depend on them," she replies.
"How so?" he questions.
"They have the largest dairy farm in the valley, they own about half the orchards," she explains. "If they leave, the town might as well leave too. Keep in mind that my family has been living in that valley for about a thousand years, I can't just ask them to give it all up."
"A thousand years?" he repeats in surprise. "Impressive."
"We think so," she says with a proud look on her face. "How many people in the United States can boast that they can trace their family line back a thousand years?"
"Not many, I imagine," he replies as the server arrives with their food. "So does this mean you won't go out with me again?"
"Let's see how tonight goes, shall we?" she replies with a kind smile. "But don't hope for any long term commitments."
"Fair enough," he responds as he picks up his fork.
"So, now that I've told you about my life, I think it's only fair you tell me about yours," she states as she picks up her utensils.
"You asked for it," he smirks as he takes his first bite.
"So what do you think?" Brooklyn asks.
"Well, it seems to be going good so far," Lex answers. "She hasn't thrown her water in his face."
"Yeah, but she's been doing most of the talking," Brooklyn points out.
"That's because he probably asked her about her life," Lex replies.
"Think she'll ask him about his life?" Brooklyn questions as he shifts into a more comfortable position.
"Probably, but I feel sorry for her when she does," Lex responds as watches the couple on the other side of the glass. "Especially if he brings up the Illuminati."
"Hey, look," Brooklyn points at them. "Their food's arrived. Looks like he got a steak and she ordered fish."
"I can't tell from here," Lex says as he cranes his neck to try and get a better look. "It could be chicken."
"Let's move closer," Brooklyn suggests as he puts action to words.
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Lex cautions as he carefully follows his friend.
"I just want to see what they're having for dinner," Brooklyn assures Lex as he cranes his neck into a funny position to try and see.
"Careful," Lex warns as Brooklyn leans out even farther over the edge of the roof. "Or you might…"
"WOAH!" Brooklyn yells as he loses his grip on the roof and plummets towards the street below.
"…fall," Lex grumbles as the sound of Brooklyn's wings snapping open reaches him.
"There's this secrete society called the Illuminati that runs…," he starts to tell her as she picks up a bite of her fish on her fork and then stops dead with the utensil hanging in front of her open mouth, a look of shock on her face. "What is it? What's the matter?"
"I don't believe it," she whispers.
"I know, a lot of people don't believe the Illuminati exist, but I know that they do," he insists.
"Not that," she hisses.
"Then what?" he asks, slightly confused and a bit vexed.
"I just saw Brooklyn fall off of the roof," she quietly grumbles. "And I could have sworn that I saw Lexington move out of sight when I looked up."
"How'd they find us?" he demands.
"I had your invitation in my satchel the other night and it fell out," she tells him. "Lex recognized your handwriting. I guess he memorized where you were taking me."
"So that's why you weren't too surprised to see me earlier," he notes as he cuts into his steak.
"Yeah, sorry about that," she admits, a bit embarrassed.
"That's ok," he assures her. "Now where was I?"
"The Illuminati," she reminds him.
"Right, the Illuminati," he says as she settles down and tries to look interested.
Several hours later, he's walking her to her front door and she's sure that at any second her feet are going to fall off. She's holding onto his arm, not because he offered it, but because she's pretty sure she'll break an ankle if she doesn't. If she ever meets the person who invented high heels, there are a series of medical procedures she would love to perform on him or her. When they reach the door, he looks at her hopefully as she fishes her keys out of her purse, something that takes a bit longer than it really should.
"Thank you for this evening," she finally says when she can't put off saying goodnight any longer. "I had a lovely time."
"I'm glad," he replies and they both shift their feet nervously. "So, um, goodnight kiss?"
"On the first date?"
"It was worth a shot," he grins as he opens his arms. "How about a hug then?"
"I can do a hug," she agrees as she steps into his embrace.
He's warm and he smells pleasant enough, but it's a little off to her and then she remembers back to one of her classes talking about how if a potential mate doesn't smell quite right, the female won't accept him. With one final gentle squeeze, she steps back and he reluctantly lets her go.
"Did you enjoy the show?" he asks, hoping to delay the end of the date a little longer.
"It was wonderful," she replies. "It was great to finally see Lars on stage again."
"Again?" he questions with a raised eyebrow.
"He got me tickets for my birthday," she explains.
"Oh," he says.
"But it was great to see it again," she assures him.
"Well, that's good," he replies, trying to cover up the massive hole in his ego. "You sure about that kiss?"
"I'm sure," she responds with a smirk and points up. "Especially with those two hanging around."
Matt looks up just in time to see a yellow and red head disappear back over the top of her apartment building.
"Alright you two, front and center!" he yells.
She nervously glances around the street to make sure no one is watching and a moment later the two young gargoyles land next to them.
"Hi," Lex says, a bit embarrassed.
"Fancy seeing you two here," Brooklyn puts in, trying to play innocent and failing spectacularly.
"That's something one us should be saying," Matt points out as he glares at the two friends.
"Learn anything interesting?" she asks, fighting back a smile.
"You like fish," Brooklyn answers with a smile.
"And you fall off of roofs," Lex grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I slipped," Brooklyn replies defensively.
"You got nosy," Lex shoots back.
"Ok, you two, that's enough," she chuckles. "I hope your curiosity has been satisfied. Not many people would be as understanding as us to have you following them around on a date. You two need to be careful. I've seen the news and there are some pretty mean people out there who wish you harm."
"You sound like Goliath," Brooklyn grumbles.
"That's only because he's your leader and I'm your friend and neither one of us wants to see either one of you get hurt," she tells them. "Just tell me you'll be more careful, ok?"
"Ok," they agree unenthusiastically.
"Good," she says with a kind smile. "Now, if you three will excuse me, my pillow awaits me."
"Would you like any help getting past your landlady?" Lex offers as both gargoyles eyes start to glow white.
"No, I'm good," she smiles at them. "The rent's been paid so she's probably flying higher than a kite right now."
Lex and Brooklyn look up into the sky searching for a human shaped kite as their eyes return to normal.
"It's a figure of speech you two," she laughs as she opens the door. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Matt, Lex and Brooklyn say in unison as she waves one last time before closing the door.
"So, how'd it go?" Lex asks as soon as the door clicks shut.
"Like I'm going to tell you two," Matt scoffs as he heads back towards his car. "We spent the entire night looking over our shoulders for you two."
"Well, if graceful over there hadn't fallen off of the roof, you would have never known that we were there," Lex grumbles pointedly glaring at Brooklyn.
"Fine, see if I help you watch her next date," Brooklyn snaps as he heads for the side of Gwen's apartment building.
"Like I'm going to tell you where we're going on our next date," Matt snorts as the Lex follows his clan mate.
"No, the one she has tomorrow night," Lex tells him making the detective stop dead in his tracks.
"She has a date tomorrow night?" Matt asks, stopping dead in his tracks. "With who?"
"Yeah, she does, but I don't know with who," Lex tells him as he and Brooklyn start to climb up the wall. "The card didn't say."
Matt watches the two scale the side of the building and then glide away, all the while fuming. He's not sure who he's angrier at, her for telling him a tall tale or himself for believing it. With clenched fists, he stomps back to her car and drives home in what is turning into a seething rage.