October 13, 1997
7:55 p.m.
Hell's Kitchen
After realizing they were back to square one, Elisa and Matt sat in his nondescript sedan and watched one of the other warehouses. CCTV from another building had shown that there had been a fourth van the night they arrested Brod's men, but it had waited a full twenty minutes after the second and third vans had departed before it pulled out onto the street. The first three vans had all been decoys, but they'd already guessed that before getting solid confirmation of the fourth one's existence.
The clan had continued to keep an eye on a few of the warehouses, to see if they could spot any unusual activity, and they'd caught another lucky break the night before when Angela and Broadway had spotted activity at this particular warehouse, specifically a delivery van coming and going. When they had reported it to her, she asked them reflexively about how the clan was doing. They had both acted cagey with brisk answers that everything was "fine." She knew to observe the unspoken answers, and the way they shifted uncomfortably from that one simple question was a huge tell. She hadn't been by the castle recently, and she wondered if the odd happenings had gotten worse. She made a mental note to ask Goliath about it.
But for now, Elisa had a more pressing responsibility, and she and her partner were staked out watching the warehouse for any further activity. They'd been waiting for hours, and though there were lights on inside, which was promising, no one came or went.
"I'm thinking of bringing Dev to the Hallowen party at the castle," Matt said to Elisa as they sat in silence, a pair of binoculars pressed up against his eyes. Elisa had seemed to grow more and more agitated as they waited, and he thought he'd engage her with something a little more interesting than shallow smalltalk to distract her.
"You are?" she said in surprise, looking directly at him.
"It seems like a low-stakes way for him to meet the clan without fully realizing he's meeting them… plus I'm testing the waters a little. About coming out to the whole clan," Matt explained.
"Wow, Matt, that's huge," Elisa said. "For a number of reasons."
"I'm tired of living a double life," Matt lamented.
"I can sympathize," Elisa replied quietly.
Matt gave her an empathetic look and wondered if this was the source of her recent stress. Was the secrecy of her relationship with Goliath weighing more heavily on her? He wanted to pry, but Elisa could be a hard one to get to talk openly about her problems.
"You're pretty serious about him," she said after a silent minute or two.
"I really am," Matt said quietly.
Elisa was a little surprised by that considering Matt and Dev had only been seeing each other for three months, but… sometimes when you knew, you knew. Elisa felt her life was forever linked to Goliath's from the moment she met him, in one way or another. It just took her a while to accept it, and to understand the depth of that feeling. She thought it was too soon for Matt to introduce his boyfriend to the clan, but she had a tendency to be mistrustful. She had waited too long to tell Matt about the gargoyles, and then someone had done it for her, causing them both a lot of grief. Seeing Dev's interactions with the gargoyles at the Halloween party could be a good way to gauge his level of acceptance toward the clan and the unpredictable lifestyle they brought along with them.
"I can understand what you see in him, Matt," she finally said warmly. "He helped us with the case back in July when he didn't have to, and I think that says a lot about his character. So, yeah. Bring him. I'm sure Goliath and the others would love to meet him."
"Do you really think they'll all be okay with it?" Matt asked with uncertainty.
"Yeah, I do," Elisa reassured him. "But I'll run it past Goliath first, just to be sure."
Soon the talk died down, and they sat again in silence, continuing to watch the warehouse. The conversation had seemed to distract Elisa for a little bit, but Matt noticed that she was once again bouncing one leg up and down, anxiously.
"Alright, Elisa. What's up?" he asked, concerned. "You're shaking the car."
Elisa stopped bouncing her leg, but her agitated feelings didn't ease up. The jittery, anxious buzzing sensation that had been plaguing her a lot lately was only getting worse, to an overwhelming level that was nearly impossible to tolerate any longer. She felt so helpless against it. She couldn't control it or do much to ease it, and her feelings of powerlessness to get Dane and the rest of Brod's cronies off the street were only exacerbating it.
She had to do something to stop them, but their last attempt had failed spectacularly, and she couldn't even get a warrant to investigate further. They needed solid evidence, not just a hunch, and the longer it took for them to get it, the deeper Brod's operation entrenched itself in Manhattan, and possibly even further out. She couldn't think of all the lives a drug operation like that would ruin without growing more distraught and angry, and the frustration and helplessness she felt for not being able to do anything about it, made her so desperate that she finally snapped.
"I'm sick of sitting here doing nothing," she said as she opened the car door and got out.
"Elisa, wait! Where are you going? We can't do anything without probable cause or a warrant," Matt hollered as he fumbled to unfasten his seatbelt and then belatedly scrambled out after her.
But Elisa ignored him and darted down the sidewalk, across the parking lot, and toward the warehouse.
"This is not a good idea," Matt mumbled, mostly to himself as his partner was already several yards ahead of him.
Elisa snuck around to the back of the warehouse and tried to peer inside, but the windows were high up off the ground. She couldn't get a good look, even when standing on her toes. She needed a boost. Glancing around, she found a small crate, dragged it over, and was just clambering on top of it to get some extra height when a door right next to her swung open.
Matt jogged up and came to a grinding halt, just as Jack Dane's large body filled the doorway. His hand went to his service weapon.
This was bad. He had to think his way through this.
"Don't suppose you've got a warrant?" Jack Dane said snidely.
Elisa glared at him, unintimidated, but she stepped down from the crate.
"What kind of business are you guys running here?" Elisa asked as if expecting an honest answer.
"None of your fucking business," he threw back.
Elisa ignored the jab.
"What about extortion, arms dealing, stolen goods, money laundering, drug trafficking? Any of those ring a bell?" Elisa threw at him as she tried to look past him through the door into the warehouse.
"You know, I should file a report that you're harassing me and trespassing on private property," Dane said as he leaned against the doorframe, idly stroking his gray goatee and smirking.
"You're involved in something, I know it," Elisa said angrily.
"Yeah? Prove it," Dane replied, and then several other men in Brod's gang appeared in the doorway behind him.
Matt moved up along Elisa's side and put a hand on her elbow.
"A call came over dispatch, we have to go," he said. "Now."
Elisa glared at Dane who smiled condescendingly at her.
"Whatever it is you're up to, I'm going to find out, and I will take you down," Elisa threw at him as Matt all but dragged her away. Mean-spirited, mocking laughter followed after them, echoing off the brick buildings as they trudged up the street and out of sight.
"What was the call?" she asked Matt as she got back into the car.
"There was no call," Matt said angrily as he got behind the steering wheel.
"What?" Elisa asked, confused.
"That's my question," Matt said sternly. "What the hell was that about, huh? What was that?"
Elisa scowled at her partner, and she ground her jaw angrily.
"That is not how we do things," he said sternly. "You're better than this. Now they're probably going to move their operations, and we'll be back to zero again!"
The truth of Matt's words were like a punch to the gut, and her defensive expression immediately softened into a look of regret.
"Matt, I—"
"Just save it, Elisa. I need to cool off."
Dejected, Elisa stared down at the bits of detritus on the floor of the passenger seat—a crumpled-up napkin, the slip of paper from a fortune cookie, crumbs from previous meals of takeout; the typical remnants of a stakeout. She focused on them and her thoughts reeled as the magnitude of her fuck-up started to sink in.
What on earth had she been thinking?
She'd just been so tired of waiting. Waiting and waiting and waiting… for nothing. No matter what she did, Brod's gang had always managed to stay one step ahead of her, and she'd desperately needed to get out in front of them somehow. But this? Her actions, her behavior? This was all wrong. The methods mattered, and she knew that. Plus, she hadn't just screwed this up for herself, she'd tanked it for Matt, too.
The ride back to the precinct was a silent, miserable one. Matt kept his eyes glued on the road, and Elisa couldn't bring herself to say anything, not even the apology she knew she owed him. As she mentally berated herself, and cursed Jack Dane and his gang, her knee started bouncing in agitation once more as the tightness in her chest returned.
…
…
Hudson padded into the TV room with Bronx at his heels, looking forward to watching the hockey game that evening. He settled his aching joints into the recliner with a heavy sigh, and Bronx spun around a few times before flopping onto the ground with a grunt as he curled up by the old gargoyle's feet. Hudson scratched Bronx's head behind his ears before settling in to watch the game.
After picking up the remote, he expected something innocuous like the news, a late-night talk show, or hopefully the game so he didn't have to fiddle with the channels, however, he was immediately taken aback after turning on the TV—not only because of what was playing out on the screen (which most certainly was not a hockey game), but also because it took him a few seconds to recover from the shock of what he saw.
He momentarily fumbled the remote between his thick talons as he tried to collect himself, cursing into his beard, then he finally managed to change the channel to the game. Relieved, and a bit flustered, he settled back into his chair to watch, trying to put the earlier imagery out of his mind. But just as the referee dropped the puck onto the ice for the faceoff, the channel switched back to the one before. Horrified, he pointed the remote directly at the TV and frantically clicked the buttons to get back to the game, but the TV kept reverting to the other channel… the one showing two fully naked humans graphically and vigorously mating.
"Stop changin' the bloody channel, blast ye!" he cursed at the TV.
Just then, the door to the TV room swung open.
"Hudson, I was—" Goliath started as he walked into the room, and then both his feet and his mouth stopped abruptly as he registered what was displayed on the screen.
His brows knitted together, and he tilted his head a little to the side as if trying to see the picture clearer.
There was an awkwardly long period where neither of them spoke, but the sounds of human mating played obscenely in the background.
"It's not what ye think," Hudson finally said, his face florid and hot with embarrassment.
The gyrating woman on the screen punctuated this statement with an unabashed cry of pleasure.
"Apologies, I did not mean to intrude on your… personal time. I will lock the door behind me and… leave you to it," Goliath said as he took a step back.
"Ach, lad, the damn remote is broken, and I can't get off this gods forsaken channel!" Hudson desperately tried to explain.
Goliath politely waved off his excuse and shut the door in a hurry, leaving a very flustered gargoyle behind as the two people on the screen loudly and enthusiastically continued their escapades.
…
…
"Maza. My office," Maria said sternly as she stood outside her door, hands on her hips.
Elisa and Matt had barely had a chance to sit back at their desks after they'd returned from their stakeout. She glanced at her partner who shook his head—whether in admonishment or warning, she couldn't tell. She got up and trudged past her captain and into the dreaded office as Chavez shut the door behind them.
"I just received a harassment and trespassing complaint about you," Maria said as she sat back at her desk.
"Come on, Captain," Elisa said skeptically. "It's Dane."
"So, you're not even going to attempt to deny it?" Maria scoffed. "Just because it came from a convicted gangster does not decrease the severity of the report. You need to be careful, detective. Reckless behavior jeopardizes yourreputation, not his."
Elisa opened her mouth wanting to say something in her defense… then quickly closed it again, switching tactics. She sighed deeply, then stood and leaned over Maria's desk, placing her palms flat on the cool surface of the cheap laminate.
"I just need a warrant," she said matter-of-factly, keeping her voice level.
"You need evidence," Maria shot back.
"Captain, you know I'll—" but as Elisa leaned in further for emphasis, the ring she kept on a chain around her neck slid out of her shirt and hung down right in front of her captain's face, startling them both with its unexpected appearance.
The flash of silver and sapphire were hard to ignore. Maria eyed the ring speculatively, her mind quickly calculating the possible significance of it. It looked like an antique. Or a family heirloom. She wore a similar ring on a chain. One her husband had given her when he'd proposed.
The thought of what it could mean for Elisa roiled Maria's stomach. But she said nothing as Elisa quickly tucked the bauble back into her shirt.
"You know I'll get the evidence," Elisa finished, glossing over the interruption as though nothing had happened. She straightened herself and walked back toward the door, not even bothering to be dismissed. Hand on the doorknob, she paused, unable to resist getting in one last word. "We both know he's guilty of something, and he can't keep that hidden forever. I'm going to make sure of it."
After Elisa had left, practically slamming the door on her way out, Maria sighed and sank further into her chair, pressing a soothing finger to her temple. Why did she always cut Maza so much fucking slack?
She glanced at the framed photo of her young daughter that was sitting on the corner of her desk and felt a knot tighten inside her stomach. This had gone too far. She was the goddamn captain, and something needed to be done before her detective got entirely out of hand, tanking both of their careers—and lives—in the process.
…
…
As the Manhattan skyline started to glow from the impending dawn, the clan reassembled at the castle, preparing to settle in for the day after a night of various exploits and responsibilities. Tension still hung thick in the air after the string of feuds and strange occurrences around the castle. The resulting strain on their relationships made any attempt at small talk seem rather forced and awkward.
Broadway looked over at each of his brothers and felt his heart sink at the widening space between all three of them as they picked separate merlons for their stone sleep. He sighed heavily. He always felt ready to sleep after a few kind words and idle chit chat before dawn, but at this rate, only Hudson wasn't giving him the cold shoulder.
"What were you up to tonight, Hudson? Did you catch the game like you wanted?" Broadway asked the clan's old mentor in an attempt to break the ice without talking about anything particularly important.
Hudson, who was lost in thought, paused mid-stroke of his beard, and looked startled by the question.
"No, I did not," he said gruffly.
After the TV debacle earlier, Hudson had given up on the hockey game, and turned the blasted thing off. Unsettled, he'd taken to the library for some quiet solitude, but his mind kept drifting back to what he had seen on the TV. While human mating was not an activity he cared to watch—or dwell on—the events dredged up old thoughts and feelings he'd locked away. He was certainly grateful the clan had grown, with many finding mates of their own, which was something he wanted for all of them—to know love, companionship, and a bond so deep you became like one flesh, one pair of wings, one beating heart. But to be surrounded by his clan's young lovers also made his heart ache something fierce for his own mate, whom he'd lost so long ago. The reminders of physical intimacy, and the absence of it in his own life, left him feeling melancholy and irritable as he longed for her touch. What he would give just to feel the light brush of her talons on his brow once more.
"I think Hudson was a bit too… preoccupied to enjoy a hockey game," Goliath said dryly, stepping out of the shadows to check on his clan before returning to his usual roosting spot.
The jest felt ugly and obtuse, like an unexpected cuff across the jaw that shattered the delicate memories Hudson had momentarily allowed to resurface in his mind. The old gargoyle's eyes narrowed, and his mouth pressed into a thin line, broken only by his two lower teeth which protruded from his lips like glinting daggers.
Based on the look on Hudson's face, Broadway quickly decided it was best not to ask any follow-up questions. He quickly turned and sought out a different perch, giving his current and former leaders the space they clearly needed.
Broadway's quick exit hardly registered for Hudson. He was still smarting from Goliath's quip, and continued to glare angrily at his protégé, all the while Goliath remained straight-faced, though a bemused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Don't think I won't try to take ye over my knee and swat ye like I did when ye were an unruly hatchling, lad," Hudson scolded the herculean gargoyle standing in front of him as the others moved out of earshot to take their positions for the day.
Goliath finally broke, and a deep rolling laugh erupted from his chest as he clapped a hand lovingly on his mentor's shoulder.
Seeing and hearing Goliath chuckle so genuinely busted through the angry gridlock that had formed in Hudson's heart and mind. He felt his irritation quell and, with a slightly cooler head, could even see the humor in all of it. He placed a gruff hand on top of Goliath's, which still rested on his left pauldron.
He sighed and shook his head.
"Ye can be a real arse when ye want to be, lad," he said gruffly, but there was amusement in his tone as well.
"Elisa has made that same observation a time or two, as well," Goliath mused with a smile that touched his eyes.
"I suppose I should be grateful it was ye and not one o' the others who walked in," he grumbled. "I'd never hear the end o' it."
"Just remember to lock the door next time," Goliath added with a deep chuckle.
"Next time… Bah!" Hudson muttered as Goliath turned to leave and take his place for the day.
But Hudson cleared his throat and spoke again, the annoyance gone from his voice and replaced with something more akin to curiosity.
"Ye and the lass don't—ack, nevermind." Hudson stopped talking, startled by his own impertinence.
Goliath paused mid stride and turned back around.
"Don't what, Hudson?" he prodded.
"Ye don't do… that… do ye?" he asked hesitantly, referring to the particular sex act that the human couple had been engaging in at the exact moment Goliath had awkwardly walked into the TV room.
Goliath's brows shot up, surprised by the prying question.
"Well…" he started slowly, which was as good an admission as anything.
Hudson's jaw dropped open in shock.
"Not exactly like that," Goliath finished wryly, and he left for his perch without another word of explanation to his mentor, his tail swishing smugly behind him.
"The cheek," Hudson muttered to himself.