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Brood of a New Age
42.
Elisa loved her Ford Fairlane. The car was older than she was and one of the most bulky vehicles to drive on the often packed streets of New York. But since Elisa drove almost exclusively late at night and in the evening, somewhat helped, and the police siren she could pop on the roof helped much more. Oberon had "cleared" the streets with his Fay magic at the time. She could do that just as quickly without snapping her fingers, wrinkling her nose, or waving her wand. Her Ford was old but reliable and robust. Robustness that was simply no longer present in vehicles of the nineties for reasons of price or arrogance on the part of the car companies. It was also elegant and streamlined - something that the later Fairlane models had already lacked. Elisa grinned at the realization that her taste in cars AND men was absolutely the same. Robust, elegant, streamlined and special. She had joined the endlessly tired and frustrated column of the after-work traffic.
After three night shifts, she had slept until noon and then put in a half day shift, which Captain Chavez regularly scheduled for the night shifts so that the "night owls" could see their day-dwelling colleagues, attend team meetings and training programs, and do paperwork that was generally neglected at night. Now she was fairly chipper after these not really exhausting four hours and probably the most content driver in the crawling traffic in all of New York because she still had two hours to get home, to be picked up by her secret chauffeur service, to get to the castle and to be able to fall into the arms of her beloved in time for the awakening of the clan. Just the way she liked it best.
Goliath had not visited her home since the Quarrymen attack that led to the battle in the destroyed clock tower. That was months ago now but the danger from the Quarrymen was undiminished. They knew she was in contact with Gargoyles and Elisa felt miserable at the thought that her home might be watched by Castaway's henchmen to catch the leader of the clan or some of its less defensible members should they show their faces again. Drawn curtains were only the smallest evil she had to accept to feel safe in her apartment again. That Xanatos had had her apartment security upgraded (without being asked!) had been necessary and that Lexington (suicidal hungry for knowledge) had checked the system on doors and windows and generally the whole apartment for weak points, bugging or cameras really gave her more security. But just because Xanatos had mimicked the benefactor for almost a year now didn't mean that Elisa trusted him completely. He had too much on his plate for that, and even with his gratitude for saving his son, he still had this ... attitude that just made Elisa cringe. The leopard cannot change his spots.
She grumbled a bit because her thoughts had caused her to turn unnoticed onto 57th Street and now she was heading for Fifth Avenue. One of the many ways to the Eyrie Building. Happened to her often when she switched to autopilot. Now she would have to sneak around the block of the bigwig district, packed with tourists and other nuisances for real New Yorkers to get back on course to her apartment. Since there wasn't much to do in the creeping traffic anyway, she scanned the expensive stores. Dior, Saint Lauren, Chanel but especially jewelry stores. She had never been that fond of jewelry, considered most of it a waste of money because she couldn't wear anything expensive like pretty necklaces or earrings at work or with the clan. Still ... the thought of wearing a tasteful ring on the ring finger of her left hand someday made her heart flutter like that of any American girl no matter how modern and strong-minded raised. Even though Goliath was a representative of the Gargoyle Way of Live and a traditionalist in that regard, she knew that he had given Demona some kind of bridal gift many years ago (a thousand years ago when she had not been Demona but his Angel of the Night).
It was not impossible that he might also give her someday - languishingly her gaze went to the most famous and glorified but also most high-priced jewelry store in New York at the latest since the movie that need not be mentioned. And in front of the shop windows at Tiffany & Co. loitered a coarse but uncertain-looking figure. One she knew. One who just a few days ago at dinner, she'd rubed his nose in the fact that he was blind AND dim-witted about this very specific thing. Elisa instantly pulled to the side and parked even though it wasn't even allowed to park here. Immediately there was an indignant honking behind her and she boldly grinned and showed her police ID to the driver, who then circled around her car with his head down, just like the following cars. She clipped her police I'm-allowed-to-do-anything-because-I'm-protecting-your-ungrateful-asses parking permit behind the windshield, locked the car and made her way across the street towards Luca De Santis.
Luca sighed at the sinfully expensive displays in the jewelry store. In the months between the discovery of the Manhattan clan and their departure, he had been busy not only with learning English, physiotherapy and the search for an Italian clan. Sometimes - and those were his favorite nights - he had spent with Grace. Like children, they had sat over the English books and "homework" that Luca had brought back from his English classes, but when English-language movies were on cable, they had watched them, too. And at "Breakfast at Tiffany's" one evening he had looked sideways at his Queen of Hearts sitting next to him and noticed her longing gaze. His heart - how often when he sat next to her - had throbbed painfully in his throat when he'd asked her what she thought of jewelry. She had touched the simple earring she wore in her left ear and had said without looking at him that she had no need for such worldly things. But ... that she would never refuse a not too expensive, simple gift of this kind. Luca hadn't been able to say it then because of the glow of the TV, but he had imagined that her cheeks had turned a darker shade of red at the subject. Simple and not too expensive. And now he was loitering in front of Tiffany's for ten minutes, and the two doormen in well-fitting suits befitting the prestige of the store were already eyeing him suspiciously. Resigned and convinced that he was making a fool of himself, he was about to turn away when he saw Elisa Maza standing next to him, smiling, and stumbled back a step in shock.
"For God's sake, you scared me!" he said with his hand on his chest.
"One tends to become a pussyfooter oneself when one deals with people like our friends long enough," she said matter-of-factly, and stood beside him, eyeing the displays unsuspiciously. Some of the less ostentatious necklaces and rings.
"I'm glad you finally decided to do this, Luca," she remarked, and indeed she was pleased even if her motives were, of course, anything but altruistic. But the sooner De Santis remembered that he had balls in his pants the less she had to be annoyed when her Big Guy came as close to the pretty red female again as he did during his pep talk before her fight. Not that she didn't have complete faith in Goliath. But what woman liked it when her man got along excessively well with other women? That she had these feelings she found uncomfortable and weak and self-centered - but she couldn't turn them off completely. Perhaps a certain amount of jealousy was a form of love. Gargoyles were like swans and usually bonded forever, and that's why she knew her relationship with her favorite giant was on solid inhuman footing. But De Santis and Grace were supposed to get on with their relationship more quickly - only that everything was also fixed from this side. She saw in the reflection of the shop window the bewildered look of the Italian, off-duty detective.
"What have I decided?" he asked, and Elisa straightened up, arms folded behind her back and feeling almost as shifty as Xanatos, and smiled broadly at him.
"The engagement ring for Grace. Tiffany's is a fantastic choice for it. The box alone will make her say yes."
Luca's angular lower jaw dropped and instantly the seemingly solid European turned as red as a tomato.
It took him a few seconds to find his voice again and even then he sounded like a drowning man.
"No - I - we've ... had this before."
"'We had'? Buddy, the way she's so familiar with you. The way she seeks your closeness. Gargoyles are not usually so touchy-feely. I do know. Even the slightest caresses are very meaningful to them. I'm sure she'd be open to it."
"B-b-but she will surely be accepted into the family here."
"So will you, Luca. Or did you think only Dante and Grace were up for evaluation? What's wrong with you and her being together - as mates?"
Luca gripped his elbows as if to hug himself while turning back to the shop window.
"She should choose someone of her own kind. What about Lexington?"
Elisa (cop AND gargoyle quirk) mimicked his pose and stood beside him with neither of them having eyes for the pretty trifles in front of them.
"If Lexington was interested in Grace, we all would have noticed by now. He can be pretty dogged when something catches his interest. And seriously- Lex is too tech-obsessed and geeky for Grace, and Grace is too religious for him." She laughed softly, careful not to draw the attention of anyone around her. "He's got more in common with Dante there than he does with her. Or are you concerned about her species? Do you think she shouldn't follow her heart so she can lay an egg next breeding season?"
"An egg?" Luca turned pale. A sign that maybe he hadn't thought about that at all. Elisa shrugged her shoulders.
"2008 is a long time away. But most of our friends are very pragmatic about it, I've been told. Females in heat can also find a partner for the days of ovulation without being bonded as mates. Was apparently very often practiced in the past when a mate died in a battle. So such "sperm donations" are not out of question. How would you feel about Grace having a hatchling at some point? Or ... with her human upbringing, more likely a child."
"A child," Luca repeated in a murmur, and briefly his gaze went into a distance that couldn't possibly be real because he was standing not thirty centimeters from the display. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. And then smiled in a way that only a truly loving man could.
"It would be so wonderful if Grace had a child someday. She would be a great mother."
"And you a good father. Even without blood ties," Elisa spurred him on, and Luca lifted his head and looked at her. He took a deep, calm breath, again doubtful, again wavering but on the verge of falling, like a professionally sawed-off tree, in the right direction. "I don't even know her ring size. It would have to be custom made. And wouldn't the salesmen get suspicious if I ordered a ring three times the size of a normal woman's finger?"
"Oh Luca. You underestimate the craziness that New Yorkers face day after day and night after night. The customer is king and if you pay for it, they'll do anything for you. No one will ask questions. And about the size- I've seen the hands of all my friends including Katanas and Angelas so many times- I have good judgment there. Better let's make it a little too big and you can always make it smaller later." With those words, she clasped his arm and pulled him to the side entrance of the store. The bouncers - now milder where the "wife" of the suspicious guy dragged him into the store as it happened dozens of times a day with couples, let them pass unhindered.
.
Owen Burnett stowed the necklace his illustrious employer had ordered for his wife in a suitcase with a combination lock. They had an upcoming anniversary. Not that of marriage, not that of the birth of their first child. Billionaires were in a class of their own, and David Xanatos was in a class of his own among that class-one of the reasons Owen/Puck had entered his employ at the time. But a hundred thousand dollar piece of jewelry for the one year anniversary in memory of the first DATE after Alexander's birth was ... special. Even Puck in him found that rather outlandish.
The hope of his true self that the Italian gargoyles would bring some action to the castle was not fulfilled after the first wonderfully exhilarating night. He got pretty much everything that happened in the castle, if not through his human eyes and the surveillance cameras then through his fey sense, which worked even after Oberon's spell over him, even if his remaining magic was curtailed except for training and protecting the boy. But no. Both Grace and Dante were well-behaved and almost withdrawn within the castle walls. A sign of their discomfort among the other gargoyles, with whom they had left mixed impressions so far. Not even a bit of jewelry or any of the artwork had gone missing so far at the hands of the would-be miscreants. He had, in a rare burst of puckishness, even left a money clip in one of the hallways that Dante and Grace passed regularly. After Dante had swiped Detectives Bluestone's wallet - either out of fun or habit - he had thought it would be tempting. But Grace had given the money she'd found to Goliath, and he'd given it back to Owen. Everything was currently quite boring in the castle and what Owen Burnett liked well frustrated Puck deeply. After all, the action the clan brought, whether involuntary or deliberate was one of the few pleasures of the magically castrated trickster with the petrified hand.
After coldly waving the sycophantic salesman away, Owen stepped out of the V.I.P area of the store and into the area for the rabble. Ordinary people, or worse, tourists who couldn't afford or didn't want to spend more than five thousand dollars on a piece of jewelry. Of course, there were also much more expensive small items of art in the showcases, but the carat-heavy, gemstone-decorated pieces were mainly there to be marveled at. The majordomo almost passed by the couple brooding over one of the showcases. Normal people, rabble - irrelevant. If it weren't for the woman's raven hair. And her voice that said:
"How's it looking price-wise?"
Owen instantly stepped behind one of the pillars before the two people saw him and did what he was best at as a human being - being inconspicuous and listening.
The accent-laden voice of the Italian gargoyles' confidant, Detective Luca De Santis sounded uncertain.
"I've never bothered with what an engagement ring costs. But I have savings of my own. Not Grace's, which she uhh inherited from her father. Something simple, sturdy would be good."
Owen wrinkled his nose. Simple meant cheap. Had he assumed anything else from the Italian? The lilting voice of the saleswoman who had probably just joined them reached Burnett's ears, and he peered out from behind the pillar as the dapperly dressed employee took out a wide, velvet-lined case from behind the counter and placed it in front of the two detectives. On it were dozens of rings.
"We carry our engagement rings in gold, white gold, rose gold, silver, platinum and titanium with or without a stone. They are all very sturdy and can be customized in any way. What is your profession, that it may be something robust?", she asked Elisa probably less out of curiosity but out of the will to be able to bring something less simple but more expensive to the man (or better the woman).
De Santis and Maza looked at each other briefly, both apparently somewhat embarrassed. Then Elisa said. "Serve and protect. It must be sturdy."
The saleswoman's smile didn't waver for a second. "Platinum would be a good choice. It's the only material in which scratches don't remove material but only displace it and can usually be polished away. But Titanium ist the is the most durable."
"Titanium it is. That would go well with her skin tone, too," the Italian detective murmured, and both people bent over the selection in front of them.
"In fact, titanium goes wonderfully with all skin tones. Our selection of the Tiffany True series of stone-less titanium engagement rings range from $2,000 to fifteen thousand," the saleswoman touted, directing her next words to Elisa Maza, who picked up just such a ring and eyed it with a daydreaming expression. "They are simple and iconic and melt the heart of every woman. It's an investment in the future. Starting at six thousand, we can offer custom engraving and sizing, where the only difference is higher material consumption which-"
Owen Burnett moved away from his pillar and strode past the displays to the exit without catching the rest of the sentence. A rare smile lay across his otherwise stony features. The scene just now offered potential for drama. And Puck craved drama.
Thanks for reading, Q.T.