Memory
by Amy K. Cyrway
blkblade@mailexcite.com

DISCLAIMER: Here we go again.  Another fic that I, Amy K. Cyrway, 
middle name withheld by request, have to say that Gargoyles are not mine. 
Rather, they are the property of Disney and Beuna Vista.  Arin MacDuff was 
created by me, and the song "Memory" is by the talented Andrew Lloyd 
Webber from Cats. This is a  NORMAL FIC!!!  (Well, as  normal as any 
Gargoyle fic can get.)  No time travelling *shouts "Pull!" as Sombrero throws 
the Phoenix Gate in the air and Eddie shoots it down.*, no magic *does the 
same thing to the  Eye of Odin*, or no clones *same thing, with Thailog.*. 
This just a day in the life of two lovers.  *Smacks her boyfriend across the 
face just after he starts making swooning noises.*  Now, without further ado 
(and before this disclaimer becomes any longer), my fic!

***
Macbeth Manor

     Her hand gracefully skimmed over the collection of tapes and CDs. 
As she picked out the accompany of  "Memory", her emerald eyes slowly 
focused on a  photograph on her dresser, one of her when she preformed as 
Grissella the Glamour Cat at St. Agatha's performance of Cats.
     "'I was beautiful then,'" she whispered to herself, staring at her 
reflection in the full-length mirror.  Her new form was still alien to her.  
Quietly, she  placed the cassette in the tape deck and, with a  burst of energy, 
she began to work her chords, unaware she was going to preform to an 
audience of one.

     He was just about to tap on her window as she started her wordless 
warmup.  Enthralled, he lifted the window just enough to minimise distortion 
from the glass.  He did not want to disturb her now; she rarely sang anymore.

     The  soft first  chords began, slow, simple, and haunting.

          "Midnight, not a sound from the pavement
          Has  the moon lost her mem'ry?
          She  is smiling alone.
          In the lamplight
          the withered leaves collect at my feet
          and the wind, begins to moan."
     
     Her  audience stared in wonderment at her graceful moves as she 
drifted around her room, staring out the window, through him.  She didn't see 
him, though, as she too became a prisoner of her own song.

          "Mem'ry.  All alone in the moonlight.
          I can smile at the old days.
          I was beautiful then.
          I remember the time 
          I knew what happiness was,
          let the mem'ry live again."

     He  wanted so much to tell she was still beautiful, and that he would 
do anything to make her happy, but her sirenic power mesmerised him 
silent.

          "Ev'ry street lamp seems to beat
          a fatalistic warning.
          Someone mutters and a streetlamp gutters
          and soon it will be morning."

     Her voice rose, in tone and in volume.

          "Daylight.  I must wait for the sunrise,
          I must  think of a new life,
          And I mustn't give in.
          When the dawn comes 
          tonight will be a memory, too.
          And a new day will begin."

     He dared not speak.  He dared not even blink.  Only her words were 
relevant; only she existed in the universe.
     As she turned her back to him, he dared to slip through the window, 
his eyes never leaving her graceful movements.

          "Burnt out ends of smokey days
          The stale cold smell of morning.  
          The streetlamp dies, another night is over
          Another day is dawning!"

     She pivoted again, her eyes closed, her soul lost in the music.  He 
flinched, afraid to have broken the spell with his presence.  However, she 
showed no indication of noticing.
     He perched in the corner, next to the mirror, still overpowered by her 
voice.  Her tone rose still, forcing every bit of her soul into the  words, 
powerful and yet beautiful.  He wasn't even aware of the Webber 
instrumental, supposably accompanying her.  Her voice drew him further into 
her magic.

          "Touch me, it's so easy to leave me
          All alone with the mem'ry
          Of my days in the sun--"

     He reached out, but drew back as she moved past him, back to the 
window.  Why did he feel she was directing her song toward him?  Toward 
the world?

          "If you touch me, you'll understand what happiness is--"

     Her eyes flew open, a brilliant smile slowly growing on her face.

          "Look, a new day has begun."

     She held the last note almost indefinitely, then faded with the music. 
Her dancer's posture dropped, returning to her normal, grunge-chick guise, 
staring longingly out her bedroom window.
     He stood, slouching somewhat, his hazel eyes still in a daze.  He 
reached out once more, this time making contact with her arm.
     She surprisingly did not jump, or start, or any  of the sorts, just placed 
her hand on top of his and sighed.
     "That was beautiful," he whispered, finally wrapping his arms around 
her lovingly.
     She said nothing, only leaned onto him, as they gazed out the  
window together.
     "I love you, Arin," he breathed into her ear.
     "I love you too, Brook," she replied.

***
*Looks at what she had just wrote and gags.*  I can't believe I wrote 
something that sappy!  *Gets whacked in the head by her loving boyfriend.* 
Okay, maybe I was in a mushy mood.  Sue me.  Okay, next on the 
agenda...*shuffles through her notes*...I have a FT fic with everyone's 
favourite whiner, Luc, and introducing Ereinee and her best friend 
Tellemacus, and goes for a rivalry that makes the Trio's for Angela pale in 
comparison when BOTH are madly in love with her...sure, Tellemacus may 
have almost a foot and a hundred pounds on Luc, but does can he do this? 
*Does neat little hand trick.*  Sorry, too much Darkwing Duck...also, my 
little version of "Equality", when Alex tries to do a good deed for Auntie that 
backfires on the Trio, Angela, and Chimura.  And Macbeth decides to have 
"The Talk" with Brooklyn!  *All you guys know what "The Talk" is, right? 
>=)*  Stay tuned!

--Black Blade "My Cosmic Song Goes On For Eternity"