Title: All Through the Night
Please send all comments to missy@darklair.com or mrwilson@umr.edu.

Here for your approval: the first (to my knowledge) crossover among
the "X-Files," "Gargoyles," "Beauty and the Beast" (the series) and
"Batman: The Animated Series."  The only excuse I can come up for
this one is that somebody had to do it.  Note: it all started with
an observation made by my roommate and myself that Owen is Alfred
on Prozac.  You have been warned.

This takes place in the middle of the second season of "Gargoyles"
(most definitely pre-"Revelations"), the third season of the "X-
Files," approximately three years after the last episode of
"Batman: TAS," and almost precisely six years after the last
episode of "Beauty and the Beast."

Thanks go out to Julia Kosatka and Kellie Matthew-Simmons for
writing "In the Dark," the best crossover yet.  This story is
fondly dedicated to Morag Fulton, Sandra Guzdek, Nicole Mason and
Matthew Coleman, with a specific dedication of the B&B parts to
Cheryl and Daz, for their own "happily ever after."

Disclaimer:  The characters of Mulder, Scully, and Skinner belong
to Chris Carter/1013 Productions, the "Gargoyles" belong to Buena
Vista/Disney, "Batman" and his gang belong to DC Comics, and the
characters from "Beauty and the Beast" belong to Ron Koslow/
Republic pictures.  No infringement on anyone's copyright is
intended or should be inferred.  If by chance there is actually
something in this story not covered by someone else's copyright, it
belongs to my own personal neurosis.

Whew!  Now, on with the show.

***
All Through the Night
a Gargoyles/X-Files/Batman:TAS/Beauty & the Beast/etc crossover
by Melissa "Merlin Missy" Wilson
missy@darklair.com
mrwilson@umr.edu
copyright 1995
***
Chapter 1: Arrivals
***

     *click*  The slide changed.
     "Notice the parallel patterns of the wounds."
     "They look like claw marks.  Are you *certain* this wasn't
done by an animal?"
     "That was my first thought."  *click*  "Then I saw this one." 
*click*  "And this one." *click*  *click*  The dates scribbled at
the bottom of the police photographs changed years, then decades.
     "How many cases are there?"
     "Fifty-three, a few as early as the late 70's.  The majority
of the killings have taken place in the past eight years."  *click* 
"This is the most recent.  It happened last week."
     The photograph showed the body in a crisp black and white
starkness that belied the gruesome death.  The victim, a Caucasian
man in his mid-twenties, lay staring at a congealed pool of his own
blood.  Four parallel wounds lay his face open, more similar
slashes had rid him of half his abdomen.
     Scully swallowed twice.  She'd seen worse, much worse, but
this was not the sight she wanted first thing after lunch.
     Bluestone continued: "The victim was part of a drug ring. 
Officially, his death has been filed as another gang-related
incident.  He would probably have been forgotten by this point."
     "But ... " prodded Mulder.
     "But I was on the scene when the yellow tape went up.  I saw
the body, and I *knew* no knife had made those marks.  I thought I
remembered something about similar murders from the back files, so
I went digging."  He pulled out a thick manila folder.  "These are
the reports I've found so far."  He set it on the table, just out
of reach.  "I've asked private collectors, zoos, anyone I could
think of, to see if something big, hairy, and mean had escaped. 
Nothing.  Besides, no single escaped lion could have done this for
twenty years and never been seen.
     "Someone else has to be involved, someone intelligent."
     "Let me guess: you think the Illuminati are in on it."
     Scully looked confused.  "Illuminati?"
     "Think the Freemasons with attitude, and toss in the Mafia for
kicks."
     "That's not exactly how I'd describe them," said Bluestone,
"but it's pretty accurate.  And no, I don't think they have
anything to do with this particular case."
     "Then who?"
     Bluestone dropped his eyes and shifted uncomfortably in his
chair.  "This may be hard to believe."  He looked at Mulder.  "But
then again ... "  He sighed.  "Would you think I was crazy if I
told you there may be gargoyles living in New York?"
     Scully glanced at Mulder, who actually seemed to be giving the
idea some consideration.  She would let herself follow his lead for
now.  After all, Matt Bluestone was his friend.  Maybe life as a
cop in the Big Apple had just been too difficult on him.
     "Gargoyles?  Why would you say that?"
     Bluestone's eyes began to light up with an expression Scully
knew all too well.  "Strange things have been appearing in the sky
lately.  On the night shift, you see a lot of weird people, but
now, some of those people have claws and wings.  I've seen them."
     "Matt."
     "I'm serious.  There have been things that I can't explain any
other way, and believe me, I've tried."  *click*  The latest slide
showed a large pile of rubble on a sidewalk.  "See?"
     Now Scully was the one getting uncomfortable.  He was showing
them rocks.  She'd occasionally suspected her partner of taking one
step too many into the deep end, but this guy owned the diving
board.
     "There were dozens of these piles found along one street at
daybreak on November 17.  They weren't there the night before. 
Some of the piles looked like smashed statues."
     "Somebody didn't like street art?"
     "Let me finish.  The statues that we could partially
reconstruct resemble actual people.  People who've been missing
since that night.  Finally," he looked directly at Mulder, "no one,
*no one* in New York City can remember where they were from sunset
to sunrise the night before."
     Mulder's eyes lit up like a young boy's on his birthday. 
Bluestone smiled like an angler who'd just felt a trout snap at his
line.
     "However, I do have a few witnesses who say they can remember
what happened, and I have several on tape.  They all corroborate on
three details.  First, ninety-nine and a half percent of the
population of New York was turned to stone at sunset on November
18.  Second, there were demons in the air.  And third, the sky
turned to fire that night.
     "So are you interested?"
     "And if we are?"
     "If you are, I have names and numbers of people to contact."
     "Since when did you start working for M.C.I.?"
     Bluestone snorted.  "Cute.  You sound like my partner.  She's
the first one you need to talk to; I can't get a thing out of her. 
She knows more than she's telling me."
     "How do you know?" asked Scully.
     "Because the night that I saw them, she called one by name. 
I have some of it on tape."  He turned on the tv/vcr setup sitting
in the corner.  The screen showed several large objects flying by
the camera's sight and away.  Bluestone rewound the tape and paused
it on a large, dark blot with wings against the evening sky.

***

     It wasn't until Bluestone had left that Scully realized the
glow hadn't left her partner's eyes.  Great.  He picked up his
cellular.
     "Mulder, you're not seriously considering this."
     Mulder began dialing.  "If nothing else, the missing persons
aspect warrants some kind of investigation.  Couple that with the
mass amnesia, the mutilations, the burning sky, and the gargoyles,
and we have a classic abduction scenario on the biggest scale I've
ever heard of."  He paused, then spoke into the phone.  "Book two
on the next flight to JFK Airport.  Thanks."  He hung up.
     "Reality check.  You're actually considering the idea that
there are gargoyles in New York City?"
     "Where else could they walk down the street and not be
noticed?  Other than Los Angeles," he added quickly.  Scully rolled
her eyes.  "The gargoyles may just be a manifestation of someone's
psyche after encountering an extraterrestrial."
     "Or a bat.  This whole thing feels like a setup.  How well can
you trust Bluestone?"
     "Enough.  We went through the Academy together."
     "And then he was drummed out."
     "He got obsessed with the Illuminati, and it cost him.  He's
clean.  Besides," he smiled, "I thought *I* was the one who was
supposed to see conspiracies behind everything."
     "You are.  That's what worries me."  She returned his smile. 
Not all of his friends were crazy; she'd met a pal of his at the
Phoenix Foundation who'd seemed almost normal.  Maybe Bluestone
would turn out to be all right, so long as he didn't have a thing
for duct tape.  "But if you want to go chasing gargoyles in New
York, *you're* going to be the one to explain it to Skinner."

***

     "Gargoyles, Mulder?" asked A.D. Skinner, a weary but patient
tone to his voice.
     "I know how it sounds."
     "Good, because it sounds ridiculous.  Aliens, werewolves,
vampires, and now gargoyles.  You're up for some vacation time. 
I'd really suggest taking it."
     "I trust my source on this.  He's a good man."
     "I don't care if he's Santa Claus.  I need a better reason to
let the two of you go off than the word of a man obsessed with
secret societies."
     "How about this?"  Mulder set down the first file from the
manila envelope Bluestone had lent them.  Skinner looked at the
picture, glancing at the accompanying report.  "I have fifty more
cases just like it.  No witnesses."
     Scully held the other files.  She'd had a chance to read some
of the reports.  She was still convinced that some sort of animal
was responsible, but ...
     "Sir,' she said.  "It's at least worth a look.  There's a
serial killer loose in New York that the police haven't even
noticed."
     Skinner sighed with the air of someone who had heard all this
far too many times before.  "When does your flight leave?"
     "In about an hour."
     "I want you both back here Monday morning and a report on this
on my desk.  Is that understood?"
     "Perfectly."
     "Good.  I also have some reading material for you, concerning
a place you may be interested in: a little town in Nebraska called
There."
     Having driven many times through little Pennsylvania towns
named Intercourse, Paradise, and Unamit, Scully just shrugged. 
People came up with strange names for towns sometimes.
     "What about it?" asked Mulder.
     "Read the file.  On Monday, you can tell me if the two of you
would be interested in going there."
     "To There?"
     "Of course."

***

     The plane touched down at precisely 7:35pm.  Bluestone met
them at the airport, his own flight having come in an hour
beforehand.  They managed to check into the Paramount Hotel on 47th
by 8:30.  By nine, the three of them were at the police station.
     Bluestone led the way through the crowded building, filled
with the early evening's catch of slime from the city.  His partner
was waiting for him when they reached his desk.
     "Elisa, I want you to meet an old friend of mine.  Fox
Mulder."  Mulder held out his hand.  After a fraction of a second,
she took it.  "His associate, Dana Scully."  Again the handshake,
and Scully was almost surprised by the strength of the slim woman's
grip.
     "Detective Elisa Maza.  So what's the occasion?"
     Scully flashed her i.d.  "We're here to investigate a murder."
     Maza's eyes widened, but all she said was, "Which one?  This
is Manhattan."
     "We were kind of hoping you could help us with that," said
Mulder.  "What do you know about gargoyles?"
     A muscle in the other woman's face twitched, then she smiled
sardonically at her partner.  "Matt, please say you didn't bring
them here for that."  She turned back towards the pair.  "Has he
mentioned the secret society in charge of the President yet?"
     "The Illuminati?" asked Scully.
     "We've heard of them," said Mulder.
     Maza looked at Bluestone again and crossed her arms.  Within
the space of a few seconds, he dropped his glance to the floor,
then finally to Mulder.  "I had to get you here somehow."
     Mulder sighed.  "Tell me."
     Bluestone became animated again.  "I have a lead that several
members of the Illuminati are going to be together tomorrow night
at a party."  He began digging through the piles of photographs on
his desk, eventually tugging out one and placing it in Mulder's
hands.
     "This is David Xanatos, one of the names in that file I gave
you.  He's one of those self-made billionaire types, who owns at
least a quarter of the city.  He's hosting a party tomorrow night,
officially to announce that he's going to be a father.  According
to my source, the real reason behind the festivities is an
induction of a new member into the Illuminati.  But I don't know
who or how."
     Maza looked over at Scully.  "See what I go through every
night?"
     Scully glanced at her own partner, who was absorbed in
Bluestone's explanation.  "If it makes you feel better, I can
sympathize."  She turned to Bluestone.  "So the gargoyles were just
a ploy to bring us here?  What about the murders?"
     "No, everything I told you was true.  If I'd told you just
about the birth announcement, you would have laughed at me."
     Scully bit back her 'Probably.'  Something about Maza worried
her, though.  Her stress level had shot up when the conversation
had shifted back to the gargoyles.  There was nothing obvious, but
she could tell that Bluestone had been right on at least one point:
the woman was not telling everything.
     "Could we have a moment alone, please?"  Bluestone indicated
a semi-quiet corner, and the agents moved quickly to it.  "So what
do you think now?" she asked him.
     "I'm sorry.  I thought he was on the up and up."
     "*He* still thinks he's on the up and up.  What do you want to
do about it?"
     "We have until Monday.  It wouldn't hurt to look around for
evidence of these 'gargoyles,' whatever they really are."
     "For once, I agree with you.  I'd like to ask Maza a few
questions about it, see if I can get anything out of her."
     "That sounds like a plan.  I'd like to also look into the
Illuminati angle."
     "Mulder."
     "There's a possibility that he's right.  Scully, this could be
the group that Cancer Man and his pals are trying to protect.  The
least I can do is take a look."
     Scully had an odd feeling in her head, as if she had hit it
against a brick wall one too many times.  A wall named Mulder. 
"All right, you look for Illuminati, I'll look for gargoyles."  She
smiled.  "Skinner's just going to love us for this."
     "He shouldn't argue: we'll have two X-Files for the price of
one."
     They moved back towards the detectives.  Maza was on the
phone, taking something down.
     "We'll look into it, Matt," said Mulder.  "Now how do you plan
to get into a party hosted by a billionaire?"
     Bluestone pulled open his desk drawer as Maza hung up the
phone.  He handed Mulder a piece of embossed stationery, stating
that one Matthew Bluestone and guest were officially invited to "A
Celebration Announcing the Impending Arrival of the Newest Member
of the Xanatos Family."
     "Elisa has one, too."  He smiled meaningfully at her.
     "Forget it, Matt.  I'm not going to the party.  We *are* going
downtown to 53rd and 4th."  She grabbed her jacket.
     Bluestone turned to the agents.  "Sorry about this.  Duty
calls.  Can you get back to the hotel okay?"
     "No problem," said Mulder.
     "Good.  I'll try to talk Elisa into changing her mind."
     "It won't work," said Maza, already on her way out.  And they
were gone.
     Mulder rested against Bluestone's desk.  "Interesting pair."
     "Mmhm."  Scully felt someone behind her just before Mulder's
eyes went to her shoulder.  She turned quickly to see a large,
somewhat Neanderthal-looking man.  "Can I help you?"
     "Excuse me for listenin' but I think I can help you."
     Mulder moved from the desk to beside her, unconsciously
adopting a protective stance which Scully registered then ignored.
     "Help us how?"
     "About these 'gargoyles.'  You're barking up the wrong fire
hydrant."
     "And you would be," prompted Scully.
     "Oh.  Sorry.  Forgot my manners.  Detective Harvey Bullock." 
He held out a meaty hand, which Scully shook as firmly as possible. 
He didn't offer it to Mulder.  "I've been on the force since these
kids were in kindergarten.  Bluestone will follow any fairy tale
you tell him, but he's got this one wrong."
     "So we should be reading Snow White instead?" asked Mulder.
     "Cute.  You've got a sense of humor.  I can appreciate that. 
Have you ever heard of Batman?"
     Mulder nodded.  "I've heard rumors.  The masked vigilante who
fights criminals the law can't touch.  I've never seen any proof of
him."  Scully tried not to smile.  That particular problem had
never actually phased Mulder.
     "I don't need proof.  I've met him.  He's a freak, and he's as
crazy as most of those psychos he locked up in Arkham.  If you want
to know who's been flying around causing trouble, it's him."
     "But the Batman is supposed to be on the side of the law.  He
doesn't kill people.  We're looking for a murderer."
     The mass of human shrugged.  "Maybe he went loony.  I wouldn't
put it past him.  Since Gordon retired last year, he's been awful
quiet.  I ain't sayin' it's him, but I ain't saying it isn't,
either."
     Scully shot a glance to Mulder before saying, "Well, thanks
for the tip.  We'll keep it in mind."
     "You think I'm crazy, don't you?  Let me tell you something. 
In my career I've seen a guy dressed up as a clown hold an
automatic while his ex-shrink girlfriend was about to blow up the
mayor.  I've seen a woman who thinks she's a plant turn people into
trees, and a guy with a Lewis Carroll kick talk all the rich people
in town into giving him a fortune.  I'm not crazy.  This town makes
people crazy.  You want to believe in gargoyles?  In this city,
that's nothing."
     He shambled away, muttering about winged freaks.
     "Mulder, can we ... "
     "Yeah.  I think now would be a really good time."  They left.

***

Please send all comments to missy@darklair.com or mrwilson@umr.edu.

Merlin Missy:)

From missy@ibm530.chem.umr.eduFri Oct 27 08:47:57 1995
Date: Fri, 27 Oct 1995 08:42:33 -0500
From: Melissa Wilson <missy@ibm530.chem.umr.edu>
To: missy@ibm530.chem.umr.edu

Disclaimer:  The characters of Mulder, Scully, and Skinner belong
to Chris Carter/1013 Productions, the "Gargoyles" belong to Buena
Vista/Disney, "Batman" and his gang belong to DC Comics, and the
characters from "Beauty and the Beast" belong to Ron Koslow/
Republic pictures.  No infringement on anyone's copyright is
intended or should be inferred.  If by chance there is actually
something in this story not covered by someone else's copyright, it
belongs to my own personal neurosis.

***
All Through the Night
a Gargoyles/X-Files/Batman:TAS/Beauty & the Beast/etc crossover
by Melissa "Merlin Missy" Wilson
missy@darklair.com
mrwilson@umr.edu
copyright 1995
***
Chapter 2: Warnings
***

     Scully was checking her newsgroups when Mulder knocked on the
door.  She'd just killfiled a moronic crosspost about the sickest
jokes on the net, then made a note on the idiot's address.  She'd
seen this particular name before, passing around dead baby jokes to
some of her pregnant friends.  The postmaster at Hopkins was going
to get a letter about employees wasting university resources. 
Again.
     Mulder sat down without an invitation.  "So what do you think
about Bullock's story?"
     "That's what I was checking.  It seems there are quite a few
rumors out there about this Batman."
     "So I've seen.  Do you think that's what Matt's gargoyle
really is?"
     She sighed.  "I don't know for sure.  It could be, I suppose. 
The thing on the tape, assuming it wasn't fixed, could be a man in
a cape."
     "Okay, assuming for the moment that we're looking for Batman
rather than gargoyles, what are we looking for?"
     "What do we know about him?"
     "He has a large number of technological devices at his beck
and call, state of the art stuff.  He disappears when the police
arrive.  He has a partner called Robin who is sometimes with him
and sometimes not.  He's an expert in martial arts and has been
spotted all over the world, but mainly in the Gotham section of New
York.  And he has a really cool car."
     Scully smiled.  "Okay, that's a start.  To own all these
gadgets, he has to be getting money from somewhere.  Have you heard
anything about suspected theft?"
     "There was something about a bribe a few years ago, but
nothing came from it.  I'd say he has backers with a lot of cash."
     "Do you think there could be a Mafia or mob connection?"
     "Only in that he keeps thwarting them both."
     "In that case, his boss or bosses are either legit or hide it
well enough to look it.  And they have money to burn."  Scully
scrolled down the newsgroup list to alt.current.affairs.newyork and
opened it.  "Here's a post about the party tomorrow night.  Would
you be surprised to know that the richest people in the city are
all invited?"  She looked at him.
     "People with money to burn.  Give me some names."  Mulder took
out his notebook.
     "Burch, Reynard, Vreeland ... " she read off the list given in
the post, mentally marking off those she'd heard mention of before. 
When she'd finished, she quit her newsreader and logged off.
     "There are probably more.  These are some of the bigger names
in this town.  I'd say they own ninety percent of it, and that's
what they'll admit to."  Mulder looked thoughtful for a moment.
     "What?"
     "Here's a thought for you: what if the Illuminati are the ones
backing the Batman?"
     "We don't even know if the Illuminati exist.  Or the Batman,
for that matter."
     "But if they all do, then it would make sense in a way.  Think
about it.  They can control only so much by money.  The streets are
still dangerous.  What better way to keep the crime rate down than
to support a super-cop who doesn't have to follow the rules? 
Either way, we have to find out."
     "I don't know if you noticed or not, but we don't have
invitations."
     "Matt does."
     "Then you two go have fun.  I'll be looking for gargoyles.  Or
bats.  Or something.  Good night."
     He nodded.  "Good night, Scully."  He left for the adjoining
room.
     Neither of them heard the silent rustle of wings outside
Scully's window, but if they had, they would have thought it a bird
roused from sleep and thought nothing of it anyway.  They may even
have been correct.

***

     "What is the Eff Bee Eye?" asked Hudson, scratching an itchy
place on his left wing.
     Lexington cut in, "It's like the police, only bigger.  Is that
right, Elisa?"
     "Basically.  They're national instead of local, and they have
a lot more power."
     "But we've kept ourselves hidden from the police before," said
Broadway.
     "Really well," said Brooklyn.  "That was a great picture of us
on the news after Coldstone woke up for the first time.  Not to
mention Demona's broadcast.  I'm sure there have to be at least two
or three people left in the city who don't know what we look like."
     "That's why you have to stay out of sight.  They'll only be
snooping around for a few days and then they'll go back to
Washington."  She looked towards the ledge, where the leader of the
group was watching the moonrise silently.  "I don't like it either,
but if you don't hide, they'll find you."
     "Why are they here?" came the deep voice from the ledge.
     "They're looking for a killer.  Someone with wings and claws
who kills people that the law can't or won't touch.  Matt thinks
it's you guys."
     "We have killed no one in a thousand years," said Hudson, "and
those deaths were in battle."
     Goliath remained looking at the moon.  Elisa suddenly knew
what he was thinking before he said, "We have not, but we are not
the only ones who haunt the night.  There is Steel Clan, and the
Pack, and Derek's clan.  And there is Demona."
     "Xanatos' gargoyles are too new.  Some of these took place in
the 70's."  Besides, I refuse to believe Derek would be involved in
this, she added silently, not touching the pain that had built
around thoughts of him.  "The same argument applies to the Steel
Clan.  And it's not the Pack's style."  She wouldn't finish.
     He finished for her.  "But Demona would have no objection to
killing humans, especially those she saw as having forfeit their
lives."  Something in his bearing suggested that he would say more,
but that he could not in front of her.  Yet.
     Then he asked something utterly out of the blue: "Are you
going to Xanatos' party?"
     "I wasn't planning on it.  I really don't want to spend all
night dodging questions."
     "Could I request a favor of you?"
     "Anything."
     "Would you please go?  I would feel more ... secure if someone
were there to watch the people from the F.B.I."
     She half-smiled.  "You want me to babysit them?"
     "Baby sit?"
     "Never mind.  All right.  If it will you make you feel better,
I'll go."
     "Thank you.  It means a great deal to me."  He placed a hand
on her shoulder, and her stomach felt warm despite the crisp night
air.
     "Well, since it's you."  She smiled up at him, then became
aware that the others were behind her and sighed inwardly.  Who had
it been who'd talked about having world enough and time?  "I have
to get back to work, guys.  Someone's going to wonder why I have
coffee breaks on the roof."  She pulled away from his touch and
moved towards the stairway.  "Promise me that you'll stay out of
trouble?"
     "We promise," said Lex and Brooklyn in unison.  She waved and
went down the stairs to her world below.

***

     Diana yawned again.  Normally, she didn't mind late nights. 
In fact, she tended to get her best work done while the rest of the
city slept.  Things were quiet then, or at least, quiet compared to
New York days.  She could take her latest case up to the rooftop
and try to sort out the mind of someone who'd been driven to the
brink by the pressure of the city, and Vincent would sit beside her
in silence, reading or listening.
     She'd have given much to be sitting there now with him, but
this was her job.  This was the *reason* she could stay home to
work on cases; most of the time, she came through.  This case had
been a bear.  She'd chosen it because it had looked simple: find
out who'd stolen a rare museum piece, a mirror.  It would be
different from her typical load of murders, rapes, and kidnappings. 
She needed a break from getting into the minds of deranged people,
and she'd thought that this would be it.  It hadn't been.  She'd
found the thieves, but when she did, they were in the middle of a
drug transaction.  If Vincent hadn't come for her, she would have
died, a situation happening more and more to her.  He'd killed the
dealer after the man had pulled a gun on her, and they'd escaped
into the night.  She'd been more careful the next time, and had
collared the thieves, minus mirror, a few hours ago.  She'd just
finished giving her statement, and now she wanted to go home.
     "All right, Bennett," said Off. Morgan.  "We can handle this
from here."  He offered her a restrained smile.
     "Thanks, Morgan.  I hope the shift ends soon."
     "Not soon enough."  She felt his eyes on her until she was
well out of the room.  She should be used to it.  Hell, if their
positions were reversed, *she'd* be the one leery of getting too
close to the pet psychic on the squad.  Probably.  It no longer
bothered her as much as it had at the beginning, when she'd simply
*known* the location of suspects, when she'd been able to finger
the perps in lineups before the victims could.  She'd been teased
back then mercilessly.  At least they'd stopped the Rod Serling
imitations after the MacLeod case.  And after the incident with
Rupert Thorne, no one had been laughing anymore.
     Now they just watched her, wondering.
     The sun was rising when she stepped outside.  Most of the view
was blocked by the tall buildings surrounding them, but she could
see enough to make her smile.  It had been a long time since she'd
been awake for a sunrise.  The light touched her, warming her
through the chilly December air and she closed her eyes to feel it
against her eyelids.
     She felt eyes on her again and groaned inwardly.  This was why
she liked night better: nobody cared if you were different in the
dark.  She said simply, "Yes?" as she turned around.
     The man watching her wasn't familiar to her.  He had the same
weary look she associated with other cops, but she knew she'd never
seen him before.
     "Sorry," he said.  "For a minute, you looked like someone I
knew."
     She saw the woman beyond him, who had just noticed that her
companion had stopped, and said neutrally, "That's okay.  Happens
all the time."  She turned towards home, planning a quick snack
before she hit her bed.  Her stomach muttered at her.
     Suddenly, she remembered something that she had to do before
she got some sleep.  "Promises to keep," she muttered, and headed
towards the building where the D.A. of Manhattan kept his office. 
She had to see how formal this thing was going to be tonight.

***

     "Mulder, are you okay?" Scully asked, worried.
     "I'm not sure.  I think I'm going crazy."
     "You're not.  She looked like Samantha."  She saw the pain
flash quickly over his face and vanish again to wherever he kept
it.  She touched his shoulder.  "But she wasn't."
     "I know.  But I can hope."  He gave her a quirky smile and
went inside.  She followed him in, past the same desks they'd seen
the night before.  Bluestone and Maza were sitting at their desks,
he drinking something from a mug and filling out paperwork, she
filling out electronic paperwork sans coffee.
     Matt looked up.  "We're just about to get out of here for the
day.  Care for some breakfast?"  He shot a glance to his partner. 
"Maybe you can even convince Elisa to go to the shindig tonight."
     Maza rolled her eyes.  "All right.  I'll go if you stop
bugging me about it."  Bluestone grinned.  "But I still say double-
dating is for the birds."
     "People used to say that about flying, too."
     "You go jumping off any rooftops lately, Matt?"
     Scully smiled.  For perhaps the first time, she wondered if
she and Mulder appeared the same way to outsiders.  Partners, when
they were paired right, shared a special kind of bond that said
without words that they trusted one another with their lives every
day.  In some ways, that kind of partnership was closer than
marriage.  To the people on the outside, though, it looked like a
lot of bickering and arguments as to who had to take out the trash
this time.
     Maza turned off her monitor, while Bluestone tapped his pile
of papers together neatly.  The rest of the night shift was
beginning to clear out in dribs and drabs.  When the bustle of the
changing of the guard was nearly complete, the two detectives were
ready to go.
     Maza begged off breakfast, claiming fatigue, and promised to
meet them at the hotel around four.  The remaining threesome went
to Dean and Deluca's for breakfast.  Scully stuck with coffee and
a croissant.
     "So did you find anything out last night?" asked Bluestone as
soon at they sat down.
     "A little," said Mulder.  "What do you know about Batman?"
     Bluestone whistled.  "Far too much, probably.  Why?"
     "There's a possibility that he's the one you've been looking
for," Scully said.
     Bluestone shook his head, saying, "Uh uh.  I know what I saw. 
You've seen the tape."
     "What we saw," she replied, "was a quick flash of something
with wings.  Think about it.  If the stories are true, he'd have
the means, the motive, and the opportunity for all of them."
     "The stories *are* true.  I've seen him."  Scully glanced at
Mulder.  "He used to be very close to the last police chief."
     "Gordon.  So we've heard."
     "You've been talking to Bullock, haven't you?"  Mulder nodded. 
"He's had it in for Batman for years.  I never could understand
why.  Batman was nothing but good for this city."
     "Was?"
     "I haven't heard anything of him in ages.  Some people think
one of his enemies finally offed him, but none of the street
networks have heard anything about it."
     "What do you think?"
     "I think maybe he got tired.  He wasn't old, but he wasn't
young anymore, either.  Maybe he wanted to settle down and have a
real life like everyone else."
     Scully fingered her briefcase.  "But you said there was
another murder last week."
     "That's one of the reasons I don't think he's involved."
     "But gargoyles may be."
     "I don't know!" he shouted, then lowered his voice to avoid
stares from the people around him.  "If I knew, I wouldn't have had
to bring you here."  He took a long draught from his coffee, then
stared at the cup.  "I'm beginning to think I should lay off this
stuff."
     "For now," said Scully, "we're going to assume that we're
looking for the Batman.  Whoever is sponsoring him has to be
wealthy, possibly a group of wealthy people."  Matt looked up.
     "The Illuminati."
     "That's what I was thinking," Mulder said, and gave Scully his
best See?? look.  "That's why we need you to tell us everyone you
think will be at this party tonight."
     "Considering he's invited half of the city, that may not be as
easy as it sounds."  Scully handed him the list of names.  "This
looks fairly complete for the ones I know.  You'll want to add
Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson and Yibeli Baird to it, though."  He
handed it back and she took down the names quickly as he dug
through his coat pockets for something.  "Here are the people I've
spoken to about what happened on the nights no one can remember."
     "Except these people," said Mulder.
     "Right.  Here's an interesting bit of information for you: of
the people on *that* list, all but three are visually or hearing-
disabled."
     "Where were you, Matt?"
     "On my way to work.  Next thing I knew, it was morning.  And
it happened again the next night."
     "Until there was an explosion in the sky.  Got it."
     "You still don't believe me."  Bluestone looked at Mulder as
if betrayed.
     "Give me something to believe, and I will.  I want to."
     "Talk to those people.  You will."

***

     The sunlight woke her.  She opened her eyes, yawned, and
rolled over.  The other half of the bed was empty.  Damn. 
Stretching, Fox sat up, letting the sheets spill around her.  She
appreciated it when David didn't wake her up in the morning, but it
could get somewhat annoying when she awoke in the mood for more
than just breakfast in bed.
     Breakfast.  The thought set her stomach churning.  She placed
a careful hand on the small bulge of her abdomen, and whispered,
"Stop that."  After a few moments, it settled enough for her to get
out of bed.  She slipped her robe on and padded on bare feet to
David's office.  She knocked on the slightly-ajar door.
     "Come in," said her husband's voice, and she smiled as she
opened the door.  She'd fallen for that voice, although she teased
him regularly that he sounded like he should be giving orders on
the bridge of a ship.  "Good morning, Fox."
     "Morning.  What time did you wake up?"
     "Around six.  I wanted to get an early start.  Everything has
to be perfect for tonight."  He stood and held out his hand over
his desk, and she took it, following his arm around until she was
on the same side as he was.  He kissed her softly, then bent down
to her stomach.  "Good morning, kid."  He patted the bulge.
     "Sometimes I wonder if you love me for my uterus," she said,
not completely kidding.
     "You know that's not true."  He sat back down and tugged her
down into the chair with him.  He was right, of course.  She knew
very well that he didn't love her just for having the baby, but ...
     "Then why can't we have this party just for us?  Why bring the
Illuminati into it?"
     His eyes went shadowed, and she knew that he would not give
her the complete truth.  She was used to this.  She thought.
     "Because this affords me the perfect opportunity to get some
of the primary members together without looking suspicious.  I
would have invited them to the wedding, but for obvious reasons,
that wasn't feasible."
     "What?  Illuminati don't like gargoyles?"
     "It's not that.  Time travel gives them nosebleeds."
     "Of course.  Silly me."  She smirked, then kissed him on
impulse.  He returned it fully, and she began to wonder if the
chair would hold the two of them comfortably for a long period of
time.
     "Pardon me," said a smooth voice from the doorway.  Owen. 
Double damn.
     "Yes, Owen?" said David, just enough out of breath to make her
feel better at having been interrupted.
     "The caterers called.  They are going to have difficulties in
filling the order in time for the party.  Shall I call someone else
or merely convince them that ours is the most important in their
career?"
     "Convince them.  If you can't convince them, go there and
offer the cooks twice their normal salary to come work for me from
now on.  Then fire them next week."
     "Very good, Mr. Xanatos."  He disappeared, and Fox felt a
strange relief.  She liked Owen in the abstract; he was David's
butler, chief aide, occasional alternate personality, and certainly
the closest thing he'd ever had to a best friend.  However, she was
always uncomfortable around him in a way she couldn't explain.  If
pressed to the issue, she would have to say that she felt less ...
*real* around him, as if he were the only true person in the world,
and the rest of them but shadows.
     She hugged David closer to her.  It was better to not think
like that, instead think of the party tonight, and the man in her
arms, and the child dancing beneath her heart.

***

Please send all comments to missy@darklair.com or mrwilson@umr.edu.

Merlin Missy:)

From missy@ibm530.chem.umr.eduFri Oct 27 08:49:38 1995
Date: Fri, 27 Oct 1995 08:42:44 -0500
From: Melissa Wilson <missy@ibm530.chem.umr.edu>
To: missy@ibm530.chem.umr.edu

Disclaimer:  The characters of Mulder, Scully, and Skinner belong
to Chris Carter/1013 Productions, the "Gargoyles" belong to Buena
Vista/Disney, "Batman" and his gang belong to DC Comics, and the
characters from "Beauty and the Beast" belong to Ron Koslow/
Republic pictures.  No infringement on anyone's copyright is
intended or should be inferred.  If by chance there is actually
something in this story not covered by someone else's copyright, it
belongs to my own personal neurosis.

***
All Through the Night
a Gargoyles/X-Files/Batman:TAS/Beauty & the Beast/etc crossover
by Melissa "Merlin Missy" Wilson
missy@darklair.com
mrwilson@umr.edu
copyright 1995
***
Chapter 3: Inquiries
***

     The meeting seemed to drag for hours.  Elliot enjoyed being in
the thick of things as far as his business was concerned, but he
despised meetings run by pencil-necked paper mongers.  He was
scheduled to go to the current project site this afternoon, and he
couldn't wait.  Instead of listening to budgets, he was already
imagining the dirt getting beneath his fingernails and the sight of
a building's skeleton stretching towards the sky in a shape he'd
carefully designed.  After a period of time no less than the last
Ice Age, the board adjourned.  He sighed with relief.
     On second thought, maybe he'd go there this morning instead. 
He nodded to his bodyguards.  Just as he had almost escaped,
Kirsten, looking far more frazzled than was her usual wont, stopped
him.
     "I'm sorry, Boss, but she said that she had to speak with
you."  She motioned towards a woman waiting a few feet away. 
Cathy! his mind thought immediately, and dropped just as fast.  It
happened sometimes.  He'd see an attractive woman with light hair
and he would think for an instant that everything had been just a
vacant dream from which he was finally awakening.  Funny how things
never quite worked out that way.
     The woman came forward.  "Agent Dana Scully, F.B.I.  I need to
ask you a few questions."  She showed him her credentials, and he
inspected them carefully.  They appeared to be authentic.  If they
weren't, well, it wasn't as if he would be completely surprised.
     "I'd been planning to visit one of my worksites.  Is this
important?"
     "It could be.  If I could just have a few minutes of your
time, Mr. Burch?"  She didn't sound like she was asking.  He
nodded, then indicated to his guards to wait outside.  He had an
odd premonition that he didn't want them eavesdropping.
     "In my office, then, Agent ... "
     "Scully."
     "Yes."  He led the way and moved behind his desk, barely
conscious of the safety and, yes, power that he felt when facing
someone across it.  "Please have a seat."  She sat down in the
chair opposite.  "Now may I ask what the F.B.I. wants with me?"
     "This may sound odd, Mr. Burch, but have you ever heard of a
society called the Illuminati?"
     He had made it his business to never show emotion when it
could betray him, whether in poker, high-stakes finance, or his
marriage.  It had saved his career more than once, by not allowing
a competitor to see his bluff.  Therefore, with a perfectly bland
face, he asked her, "Who?" with just enough hint of disbelief to
push the doubt back on her.
     She looked uncomfortable, but persisted.  "I'm currently
investigating a lead in a murder case.  My partner believes the
Illuminati may have something to do with it."
     "Then why ask me?  I have no idea what you're talking about." 
He gave her a carefully practiced smile, the same smile that had
convinced Joy to marry him, and her sister to trust him with the
most precious secret they both shared.
     "Because your name is linked with one of the murders.  You
were arrested for the murder of District Attorney John Moreno six
years ago."  He went cold.
     "I see you've done some background work.  However, if you'll
go deeper, you will find that the case never went to trial, that
the murder was attributed to Moreno's mob connections."  His voice
barely quavered.  He still had nightmares about that horrible
night, and the hellish days that followed.  Too many times, he'd
woken screaming, certain that his skin was on fire again.
     "Then those connections have a lot to answer for.  I have a
file containing over fifty similar murders, all with the same kind
of wounds as Moreno's.  The latest one occurred last week."  She
waited, watching him.
     His stomach twisted.  He'd seen the mention in the paper the
morning after, and he'd called to make certain Diana was all right. 
But how could the F.B.I. know that?  Then he realized.  They
didn't.
     "Agent Scully, I've been in this chair for six years."  He
moved it out from behind the desk again to let her get a good look. 
"Cyberbiotics' latest model.  I get around pretty well with it, but
not *that* well.  I'm afraid you have the wrong man."
     "I'm not accusing you of anything, Mr. Burch.  I just need
some answers."
     "Any more answers you'd like you can have, but you'll have to
get them from my lawyers.  I'm afraid I've run out of time."  He
moved to the door, giving her no real option but to follow.
     "If you should change your mind, this is where I'll be
staying.  Give me a call.  It might save someone's life."  He took
the piece of paper from her, and pretended to read it as she left. 
When the door had closed behind her, he went back to his desk and
pressed the button for Kirsten.
     She came in moments later.  "Yes, Boss?"
     "Can you take a long lunch break?"
     "Sure.  Where am I going?"
     "Below.  Tell Vincent the F.B.I. is asking questions."  Her
eyes went wide, and he said quickly, "They don't know anything. 
Yet.  Right now, they think Gabriel's pals are behind a few
unsolved killings.  I intend to keep them thinking that."  He was
not even aware that he was smiling as he began planning.

***

     "So how much luck have *you* had?" asked Scully as her partner
took a bite of McSomething.  He chewed quickly and swallowed.
     "Some.  I managed to get chats with Vreeland, Clamp and Stark. 
But I couldn't get anything out of them about the Illuminati."
     "You were expecting a full confession?"
     "I was hoping for a reaction.  Also, they all have perfect
alibis for the night of our murder.  I looked into some of the
witnesses of the missing night, too."
     "And?"
     "Not enough."  He sighed.  "Only two were even home, and
neither one saw or heard anything out of the ordinary.  I'd say we
try again tomorrow; people might be home on a Saturday."
     She nodded.  "I managed to find one of the witnesses on my
list at home, but she didn't notice anything, either.  Then again,
she has a good excuse," she said, remembering her *very* brief
conversation, "she just had a baby.  I couldn't get a meeting with
Reynard.  Burch doesn't have an alibi, but I've checked his
background.  Almost total paralysis below the waist from an
accident six years ago."
     "Almost?"
     "He has one son, Elliot Andrew Junior.  Four years old."
     Mulder nodded.  "I'm pretty sure none of our party guests did
the job him or herself."
     "Probably not, but I did some checking on the names Bluestone
gave us.  Bruce Wayne is the head of Wayne Enterprises, and Dick
Grayson is his right hand man.  Both have perfectly clear records,
but I found a reference to Wayne's fiancee, Selena Kyle.  Would you
believe she used to dress up in a cat suit and rob jewelry stores
for fun?  And something else: according to rumor, she was the only
criminal the Batman wouldn't bring to justice.  Some people think
they were involved."
     "I'd say we need to pay the Waynes a visit."
     As they got out of their seats, Scully noticed two men sitting
in the booth behind theirs.  She'd heard them quietly conversing,
and something had been familiar about one voice that she couldn't
place and hadn't thought much of till just then.  The one facing
her was fairly nondescript: balding, with dark hair growing long in
the back, a little on the pudgy side but not unpleasantly so, and
a shaggy but well-kept moustache.  He wore sunglasses.  The man
with his back to hers wore a blue baseball cap, just showing a
whitish fringe of hair beneath it, and a leather jacket.  His was
the voice she'd recognized, a soft, cultured British accent with
rich, resonant undertones.
     The other man noticed her scrutiny, and his companion turned. 
At the sight of his face, familiar to almost every person in
America, Scully turned crimson and hurried to follow Mulder.  As
she left, she caught only a bit of a phrase about three women named
Jenny, Ariel and Shana.

***

     They were allowed into the gates with surprisingly little
trouble.  Scully parked the rental in the spacious driveway behind
a Rolls.  The master of the house appeared to be home.
     They were met at the door by a stiff-looking British butler,
who led them in after a careful examination of their i.d.  He
stopped outside a large door and knocked.
     "Yes, Alfred?" came a voice from the other side.
     "Master Bruce, a lady and a gentleman from the F.B.I. are here
to see you and Miss Selena."
     "Show them in, please."  Alfred opened the door, but did not
enter.  Mulder followed Scully into what appeared to be a study. 
A man in his late forties, possibly early fifties, stood behind a
desk near one side of the room.  Mulder had the weirdest feeling
he'd met him before.
     "Would you like some tea, sir?"
     "That would be wonderful, Alfred.  Thank you."  He offered his
hand to Scully.  "Bruce Wayne."
     "Agent Dana Scully.  My partner, Fox Mulder."  Mulder shook
hands obediently.  This show was Scully's.
     "Nice to meet you."  He smiled broadly as he sat down, but
there was something forced about it.  He showed them the chairs. 
"How may I help you?"
     "We're investigating a murder."  Immediately, his face went
blank.
     "Who?" was all the man said.  With a sudden insight, Mulder
understood the odd familiarity about him.  He had the look of
someone who had seen too many good people die for no reason.
     "The man's name was John Gehrke."  Wayne looked confused for
a moment.
     "I don't recognize the name.  Was he one of my employees?"
     "No.  He was involved in what appears to have been a drug deal
gone bad.  We think it might have something to do with a society
called the Illuminati."  Wayne looked relieved, then confused.  But
like his smile, it was a faked confusion.
     Mulder cut in, "We were hoping you might shed some light on
the subject."
     "Very funny.  So what is this society?"
     Scully's mouth twitched.  Mulder wondered if she were thinking
that she was beginning to sound like him.  "They may be involved in
a number of high-level conspiracies.  We believe they may have some
link with the Batman."  Wayne raised one eyebrow.
     "Batman?"
     "I realize how it sounds.  However, your fiancee was rumored
to have some dealings with him in the past."
     "Was I now?"  A woman came in from another door that he hadn't
noticed previously.  She was tall, slender, blonde, perfect.  She
walked slowly to Wayne's desk, where he immediately stood.
     "Selena, dear, these are Agents Scully and Mulder from the
F.B.I."
     "A pleasure," she said.  "If you know about Batman, you know
that he was the one who finally brought me in.  It was the best
thing he could have done for me.  I got the help I needed.  What
more do you need to know?"
     Scully pulled out her file and opened to the police photograph
of the dealer's body, then placed another photograph, one of Kyle
complete in her Catwoman outfit.  "We need to know where you were
last Thursday evening."  Kyle blanched at the picture, and Wayne
quickly covered it.  He stood, anger in his eyes.
     "I know what you're trying to insinuate.  It won't work. 
Selena and I went out to dinner last Thursday at Tauraso's.  We
were there until ten-thirty, and then we came home."
     "Do you have any other witnesses?"
     "My associate, Dick Grayson.  You can find him at the office,
along with my attorney.  I believe Alfred can show you the way
out."  He looked towards the doorway, where the butler had
magically appeared with four cups of tea.
     Scully said, "I'm sorry if we upset you, Ms. Kyle.  We're only
looking for the truth."
     Kyle handed her the pictures.  "It's not in there.  That was
an old truth.  I promise you that."
     The butler led them back to the front door, but before he
could politely shoo them out, Mulder had an idea.  "May we please
have your name, sir?"  He got out his pen and paper and waited.
     "Alfred Pennyworth."  The man was nonplussed; Mulder had been
right in thinking that visitors probably ignored his existence.
     "Mr. Pennyworth, how long have you been employed by Mr.
Wayne?"
     "All his life.  I was employed by his parents previously."
     "So you know him fairly well."
     "I would dare to say so.  And I know that no matter what you
might think he or Miss Selena might have done, they are not
involved."
     "Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth," said Scully, obviously ready to
leave.  Mulder wasn't about to go just yet, though.
     "One more question, if you would."  The man sighed deeply, as
if put upon.
     "Yes?"
     "What do you know about David Xanatos?"
     "Quite a bit, actually.  He's one of the wealthiest men in the
country.  His wife is expecting their first child sometime in
August.  His favorite midnight snack is an oatmeal-raisin cookie
and milk."  He saw the stares from both of them and explained: "His
assistant and I are friends.  I gave him the cookie recipe in
exchange for his secret tea blend."  He indicated the cooling cups. 
"If you have any further questions ... "
     "We know," said Mulder, "we can ask your lawyer."  Pennyworth
inclined his head.  They took the hint and went through the door
into the thin December sunlight.
     "Well, that was productive," he remarked as they pulled out of
the driveway.
     "Is it just me, or does everyone in this city seem to be
hiding something?"
     "Careful.  You're beginning to sound like me again."
     She smiled.  "Does that mean you're going to start denying the
possibility of gargoyles and batmen in New York?"
     "Not likely."  He watched the houses out his window as they
went by slowly.  "Nice neighborhood."  A limousine went by on
Scully's side.  Oddly, the passenger's window was opened, and he
caught a brief flash of shocking red hair and a face unlike any
he'd ever seen, gone in the space of time it took to draw in a
breath.  Her eyes, he thought.  Her eyes aren't human.
     "Mulder?"
     "Sorry.  Just watching the scenery."  He turned to his window,
and watched the limo in the mirror on his side until it turned down
a driveway and disappeared.

***

     The rented car dropped her off at the front of the house.  The
driver offered to help her with her bags, but she waved him off and
took them herself, waiting until he was gone before she entered the
combination to open the door.
     She dropped the packages in the dark hallway, then kicked off
her painful shoes.  By the time she'd reached the parlour to check
her answering machine, her hair was unfettered and moved wildly
around her shoulders as it should.  No messages.  She hadn't
actually been expecting any, but one never knew when opportunity
might call.  It certainly hadn't knocked lately.
     She sat down on the sheet covering what passed for a couch and
stretched out.  She'd spent all day among the humans, ostensibly
looking for a dress.  In actuality, she'd been scouting for signs
of the others.  She was certain that, given a properly methodical
search, she could find out where the rest of the clan roosted
during the daylight hours.  It would just take a little time and a
great deal of patience.  She wasn't good at patience, but she was
learning.  Besides, she had to do *something* during the day.
     Of course, the end of this day would be especially satisfying. 
She'd found herself something appropriate to wear, and had been
forming a plan in her mind since the invitation had come.  In just
a few short hours, she could pay a completely invited visit on
Xanatos and toast the impending arrival of his little brat.
     A slow smile spread across her face as she picked up the piece
of embossed paper, addressed to one Angelica MacAlpin.  The fools
had never even guessed.
     Demona's laugh echoed through the empty house.

***

Please send all comments to missy@darklair.com or mrwilson@umr.edu.

Merlin Missy:)

From missy@ibm530.chem.umr.eduFri Oct 27 08:50:18 1995
Date: Fri, 27 Oct 1995 08:42:55 -0500
From: Melissa Wilson <missy@ibm530.chem.umr.edu>
To: missy@ibm530.chem.umr.edu

Disclaimer:  The characters of Mulder, Scully, and Skinner belong
to Chris Carter/1013 Productions, the "Gargoyles" belong to Buena
Vista/Disney, "Batman" and his gang belong to DC Comics, and the
characters from "Beauty and the Beast" belong to Ron Koslow/
Republic pictures.  No infringement on anyone's copyright is
intended or should be inferred.  If by chance there is actually
something in this story not covered by someone else's copyright, it
belongs to my own personal neurosis.

***
All Through the Night
a Gargoyles/X-Files/Batman:TAS/Beauty & the Beast/etc crossover
by Melissa "Merlin Missy" Wilson
missy@darklair.com
mrwilson@umr.edu
copyright 1995
***
Chapter 4: Gatherings
***

     Elisa looked at her reflection in the mirror one last time and
grimaced.  She'd felt far less silly dressed up as Belle for
Halloween.  Then again, she'd be keeping much of the same company
as she had that night.  Minus the boys, she thought, and wasn't
sure whether the thought made her happy or sad.
     Life had been so complicated since the ill-fated night she'd
gone poking around Xanatos' castle.  She'd seen more incredible
things in the past year than she had dreamed possible.  Gargoyles? 
Fairies?!  And Derek, now changed into some genetic nightmare.  She
bit her lip, wondering how her life would have been different if
she had just not been so curious.
     Her parents wouldn't be put off forever.  Eventually, they
would have to find out what had happened to their son, and it would
only take a little more for them to learn the why of it.  What
would they say?  What would they think of the strange beings whom
Derek held responsible for his metamorphosis?  The thought that
they might blame the gargoyles, blame a *specific* gargoyle, made
her cold inside.  If it came down to her parents and Derek against
her friends, she wasn't certain which side she would choose.  She
could only hope it wouldn't come to that.
     She ran a quick hand through her hair.  She would just leave
it down tonight; no use getting too dressed up to be around people
she didn't like.
     "Keep an eye on the place, Cagney," she said, giving the cat
a healthy scratch behind the ears.  "I'll try to be home early." 
She turned off the light and closed the door.

***

     The Vreelands were the first to arrive.  Fox was mildly
surprised, considering that Ronnie usually just *had* to be the
fashionably late center of attention.  Instead, when she and that
annoying brother of hers showed up, she ran in and threw her arms
around Fox's neck, squealing about how wonderful the news was.
     Fox marked that down in her mental book as another strike
against the woman, then forced a smile as Ronnie immediately went
into a detailed description of her last trip to Asia.  Old money,
she thought wearily.  They all inbred.  Had to be the explanation. 
Thankfully, the next batch of guests came in a group of six, and
she had an excuse to pawn off the woman on them to slip into the
kitchen.
     Owen was currently occupied greeting people at the front door,
so she actually made it through the kitchen and to her bedroom
without seeing him.  She felt a little silly about having to sneak
around her own house, but it didn't stop her from watching her back
as she went through the halls each day.  She sat down on the edge
of the bed.
     David came out of the bathroom adjusting his cuffs.  "Is there
something wrong?"
     "Just that Veronica Vreeland was the first to get here."  He
made a face.  "I needed a break."
     "Well, it'll only be for a few hours.  Besides, if I know
Ronnie, she's here early because she has other plans for the
evening."
     "I certainly hope so."  She stood up.  "Ready?"
     "Ready.  I would have been ready earlier if it hadn't been for
that last call."
     "Anything I'd be interested in hearing?"
     "Just business, dear."  She added a mark next to David's name
in the mental book.
     "In that case, let's go greet our guests properly."  She took
his arm, and they walked sedately through their castle back to the
Great Hall.  She wondered again what things had been like back when
the castle was in Scotland and a princess named Katharine wandered
these same halls.  She'd seen it in its glory for the brief
duration of her mad honeymoon, and since in her dreams, she had
walked the ancient passageways again.  Sometimes she dreamt that
*she* was Katharine, and occasionally, she would look up as Fox
herself was doing now, and see a familiar and beloved face that
bore a haunting resemblance to Owen's.
     A cold wind blew through her again, but it was no doubt just
the drafty castle.
     Several more people had arrived by the time they reached the
Hall.  The television journalist Gleeson was already chatting with
Ronnie Vreeland and Tony Stark.  Fox silently hoped they'd all
accidentally fall off the top of the castle.  Another couple
arrived, and she recognized them as a pair of newspaper reporters,
possibly the two most famous in the city.  David always enjoyed a
challenge, and the idea of holding a top secret meeting of the
Illuminati while Lane and Kent were in the building had been too
much to resist.  They began mingling with the other guests, no
doubt hoping to get a big scoop for the Saturday edition of the
"Planet".
     With some amusement, she noticed Elisa Maza on the arm of some
man she'd never seen before.  At least she'd dressed for the
occasion, in a slim, sleeveless, forest brown dress.  Her date, a
tall, thin, vaguely geeky-looking man, wore a nondescript suit that
would have been appropriate for a wedding or a funeral.  Her
partner Bluestone had also accepted the invitation, and had brought
with him a lovely blonde woman in an emerald green number.  The
four of them stood out among the rest of the guests, obviously ill
at ease with the show of wealth around them, Maza and Bluestone
more so than the other two.  The strangers appeared to be looking
for something or someone.
     David pulled slightly at her arm and led her towards one of
the waiters they'd hired for the evening.  He plucked a champagne
for himself and a sparkling cider for her, and she grimaced as she
sipped at it.
     "Yummy.  Think I can at least toast myself with some of the
real stuff?"
     "Not on your life.  You know what the doctor said."  She
muttered under her breath about what the doctor could do with the
sparkling cider.  "Tell her yourself.  She was invited, too."
     "Is there anyone in New York that Owen didn't put on the guest
list?"
     "Yes, but only because they didn't leave a forwarding address
when they left."
     "Gotcha."
     "Fox!  David!  Congratulations!"  She turned to see who it
was, putting on her smile for the evening.

***

     The line of limousines nearly made her head spin.  At least it
was moving quickly.  They would be at the front door in a minute or
two.
     "Don't worry about it," Joy was telling her.  "The trick to
surviving one of these awful things is to smile and nod in the
right places.  Kinda like listening to him."  She jerked her thumb
at her husband and grinned mischievously.
     Elliot put on a serious expression.  "I'll remember that the
next time I try to tell you something."
     Joy smiled vacantly and nodded.  Joe howled.
     The car pulled up to the front.  Joy tapped the window to let
the driver know they were ready.  The automatic door opened as the
valets moved away quickly.  When the doors stopped moving, Elliot
wheeled himself out.
     Joe said under his breath, "The Eagle has landed."  Diana
poked him and got out of the car.
     Xanatos' assistant, in formal attire down to the white gloves
on his hands, met them at the door.  Elliot handed him their
invitations.
     "Mr. and Mrs. Burch.  It's good to see that you could make
it."  Joe gave him his own invitation.  "Mr. Maxwell.  Welcome to
the party."  He nodded politely to Diana.  "Madame."  He held his
arm out, indicating a large door a few feet away.  "The gentleman
in the elevator will take you to the proper floor."
     "Thank you, Owen," said Elliot, and moved towards the
elevator.  They followed.
     The door opened as they arrived, and Diana heard Owen greeting
a Mr. Wayne as it shut again behind them.  The ride was short, but
she could see the large number of floors ticking by.  And then,
they were there.
     Diana's first impression was of space, and irrationally, she
thought that she had somehow come outside.  Then she realized it
was simply one vast room.  The top of Xanatos' skyscraper was a
castle, supposedly brought stone by stone from Scotland.  This must
be the main hall, she thought.  The walls still held multicolored
tapestries from centuries before, but where torches once graced the
room with flickering light, more practical if less romantic
electric lights glimmered.
     She could feel the years surrounding her, as if the people who
had once called this place home had left more than footsteps and
fingerprints.  There was presence here, unlike anything she'd felt
in some time.  Some great tragedy had taken place long ago.  For an
instant, she smelled smoke, and knew that there had been fire and
death on these stones, but death unlike anything she'd ever before
experienced.  She could almost hear the crumbling of rock beneath
blows, and she wondered why the screams were so quiet.
     Joe touched her arm.  "You okay?"
     Diana pulled herself back to the present, and could not help
the smile in her eyes at his concern.  District Attorney he might
be, but when he was worried, Joe looked like nothing so much as a
little boy.  "I'm fine."
     "You look like you just saw a ghost."
     "If I did, it was a thousand years old."  She patted his arm. 
"You worry too much."
     Joe was mollified, but Elliot continued watching her until she
nodded at him reassuringly.  He understood her better than anyone
else, or at least anyone Up Top.  He knew what her flashes were
like and what they cost her.  The strange friendship they had
developed allowed for that kind of sharing.  Joy was her sister,
but she would never know precisely what it was that set Diana
apart, only that she was.  Elliot knew, and as time went on, that
knowledge no longer frightened either of them, but gave them a
measure of unfamiliar peace.
     Joy spotted the hosts, and they went to congratulate them.

***

     Mulder was on his second glass of champagne and beginning to
enjoy himself.  The social hour was almost finished, and dinner
would be starting soon.  His stomach made an appropriate noise and
he saw the amused look on Scully's face.  They'd broken away from
their "dates" to mingle among the crowd.  It had been surprisingly
simple to blend in with the others.  Despite the ostensible
distinctions of class, he'd noticed that a glass of champagne or
two made everyone in the room equal.  There had even been one guy
walked around offering everyone Jelly Babies until Burnett had led
him quietly out of the room.  He hadn't been crazy, thought Mulder,
just tipsy, like most of the press of life around them.  They were
all lonely human moths straining towards electric bulbs to die
young and beautiful.  He could actually picture some of them with
wings, gliding into those lights.
     He glanced at his glass.  Where had *that* come from?  He
decided quickly that this would be his last alcoholic drink for the
night; the waiters were serving sparkling cider for the sake of the
mother-to-be.
     Scully tapped his shoulder and pointed out a couple with her
eyes.  "Those are the Bairds.  Shall we mingle?"
     "Let's wander close to them.  I don't see getting anywhere
tonight by asking too many questions.  Just keep an eye on people. 
See if anyone disappears for too long."
     "In this place?  Who'd notice?"  She had a point.  The crowd
was large and was growing by the minute.  Had this guy invited the
entire city?  Then Scully murmured, "We're being watched."
     Mulder glanced casually in the direction she indicated as they
moved amiably towards a large knot of people.  Xanatos' assistant
Burnett had come upstairs to babysit the group while his employers
had slipped out for a breath of fresh air.  Currently, he was
watching the two of them with a carefully concealed fascination.
     Suddenly, something took his attention pointedly away from
them, and Mulder followed his gaze.
     There was a woman walking through the crowd, a redhaired woman
with eyes unlike any he'd ever imagined.  The woman from the
limousine.  The one he'd seen in such a quick, burning glimpse. 
She'd come.  And Owen Burnett was not pleased at all with seeing
her there.

***

     Scully saw Mulder's eyes widen, and turned to see Burnett
staring at a beautiful redhead, who was striding across the room
like she owned it.  Her eyes were bright with a kind of secret
glee, and her perfect mouth was turned as though trying to hide a
wide leer.  Her outfit was a violent purple affair, covering her
arms and torso completely, if tightly, but leaving only a token bit
of cloth below her waist.  She wore little jewelry, but what she
did have on, a heavy gold necklace, matching earrings, and a large
intricately designed gold ring, said volumes to even Scully's
unpracticed eye.  The socialite Vreeland came from old money, but
this woman's wealth was old when Vreeland's ancestors were starving
peasants.
     The woman saw Burnett's concerned look, and let her mouth
finish its journey into a sweet, sincere smile.
     Scully was suddenly very afraid.
     Once his initial shock had abated, Burnett rushed to her side,
and said in a fierce whisper that Scully could just barely make
out: "How did you get in here?"
     The woman laughed, and there was just enough madness in the
sound for the people around her to surreptitiously slide further
away.  "Why, I handed the nice gentleman downstairs my invitation. 
I'm disappointed in you, Owen; I only had to wait a few minutes
before you left your post."  He frowned deeply.
     Maza, who'd been inspecting the buffet with Bluestone, came
behind them and said playfully, "Come on.  I know Owen's kinda
weird, but ... "  She saw the woman with him and went pale.  In her
peripheral vision, Scully saw her instinctively reach for a weapon
that wasn't there tonight.  Her hands clasped air, and began
curling into fists and releasing.
     "Who is she?" asked Mulder.
     "Trouble," was all she replied.

***

     Her mind raced.  What was Demona doing here, especially so
close to sunset?  It was quarter till five.  The sun would go down
in at most ten minutes.  She had to be plotting something that
would happen soon.  Crazy or not, she wasn't mad enough to let a
room full of people watch her change into gargoyle form.  She
hoped.
     Elisa scouted the room quickly, and saw Xanatos and Fox enter
from the other side.  As distasteful as she found the thought, she
had to get to them before Demona did.  There was no way to tell
what she would do when she spotted them.  Which happened a second
later.
     Demona's smile grew wider, and she said in a voice once
accustomed to being heard in this same hall: "Xanatos!  How good to
see you again!"
     A number of people turned their heads, and Elisa groaned
inside.  She was trying to get their attention, and it was working. 
One Simply Did Not Yell at Gatherings Like This.  Fox saw her a
split second before her husband did, and in an almost comical way,
their faces took on the exact same look of disbelief that quickly
turned to disguised panic.
     Demona shrugged off Owen's arm as though he'd been a child;
Elisa wondered how much it had cost him to not put her into a
restraining hold instantly.  That was another thing One Did Not Do
at Parties, and Demona knew it.  She walked through the crowd like
it didn't exist.  Then again, they *were* only humans.
     She grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and
took a swig.  She made a face.  "This swill gets worse with every
passing year," she stated too loudly.  The people around her
affected to ignore her, but it was becoming more than obvious that
she wasn't about to be ignored.
     She stopped three feet away from the parents to be.
     "Milord.  Milady," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.  "I
would like to extend my deepest congratulations on your impending
arrival."
     "I see Owen forgot to make the final cut on the guest list,"
said Xanatos, unimpressed.
     "I'm hurt," she replied mockingly.  "And here I came all this
way to bring you a gift for that child of yours."
     "Thanks, but you can keep it," said Fox.  "You've done enough
as it is."
     "Now Fox, don't tell me you're still angry about that little
incident with ... "
     Xanatos interrupted.  "Maybe we should take this outside."
     "Of course!  We can watch the sunset together and reminisce
about the old times."
     Elisa felt a hand on her shoulder.  Mulder's.  "Is she an old
lover?"  Elisa grimaced.
     "You have no idea."  She spotted Owen moving around the
periphery of the room.  "Excuse me."  She wasn't overly fond of
Xanatos' head flunky, but for this, they were on the same side. 
She motioned to him.  He nodded to her and they circled around
Demona from opposite sides.
     The human-gargoyle continued in a louder voice, enough to
command the attention of everyone in the room: "I'd like to propose
a toast!  To Fox.  May you have the same fortune with your mate
that I had with mine."  Her eyes glittered like cold diamonds.
     Fox smiled back with the same saccharine vindictiveness. 
"Actually, I was planning on *keeping* mine."  Demona dropped her
pretense of a smile.
     "You'll pay for that one.  Child."  She placed her fingers
into her glass, and Elisa saw her move her ring to one side.  She
began murmuring something in bastard Latin, which sounded to
Elisa's ears like "Me masticaste, placer este!".  Elisa still
wasn't certain of what the woman's twisted mind had dreamed up for
Fox, but she had to prevent it.
     "Stop in the name of the law!"  She always felt silly when she
said that, but it worked.  Demona's head jerked around, and then
her smile returned.
     "On second thought, perhaps I'll just give my present to
*you*."  She pulled her hand out of the champagne and flicked the
wetness off towards Elisa, who had just enough presence of mind to
drop to the floor.  The droplets hit the wall behind her and
sparked vermillion before the stone started dissolving.  Madly, she
was already thinking of ways to explain this particular substance
to Forensics.
     Elisa rolled, wishing she'd brought her piece and knowing that
it was too late, that Demona would already be advancing upon her
and that she would do whatever she'd planned before any human could
stop her.  She glanced up.
     Demona had raised her arm again, and her eyes were less human
than Goliath's had ever been, even in battle.  She thought of him,
wondering who would tell him when the sun went down.
     A light-haired Fury attacked.  Demona fell in a tangle of arms
and legs with Owen scrabbling for the glass.  It slipped from her
fingers and crashed into the floor.  Owen and Demona rolled, and
then he was on top of her, his left arm pinning her throat, his
right grasping her arms together in a dangerously intimate manner. 
Xanatos pulled Fox off the ground and away from the growing spill,
as Demona thrashed under the weight of the man above her.
     Elisa got to her feet and ran to Owen's aid.  Demona saw her
and stopped struggling.
     "You're under arrest."
     "For what?"  Her voice had returned to its former cadence as
she went limp.  She sounded as if she'd just been told over dinner
that a friend had gone to the hospital.
     "Attempted murder."  For a start.
     "Oh really?  Since when does sprinkling champagne count as
attempted murder?"  She looked regretfully at the puddle on the
floor.  Which appeared to be a perfectly ordinary spill of alcohol. 
No dissolving carpets.  No disappearing floor.  Just broken glass
and liquid.
     Elisa cursed inwardly.  It had been magic, of course.  Kind of
hard to prove murderous intent using a spell in a court of law.
     "Besides," Demona's voice had become an almost-seductive purr,
"I really don't think you'd want me to go into the police station
tonight, would you, Detective?  I can assure you that I'd have
quite a story to tell them."  She saw Owen tighten his grip on her
wrists just enough to make her wince.  "You didn't want to do
that."
     Suddenly, she twisted, bringing her knee up sharply.  In an
instant, she'd flipped a now-suffering Owen off her and sprang in
a fluid motion to an upright position.  She ran directly towards a
wall covered by a large, probably priceless tapestry.  Elisa
realized what she was doing a second later and ran full-speed after
her.  Almost.  The damned shoes tripped her and she kicked them
off, giving Demona a much-needed extra moment to slip behind the
tapestry into the secret passage beyond.
     Elisa followed her into the darkness, suddenly aware of Mulder
and Scully at her heels, and Bluestone not far behind.  She had to
lose them before sunset, or else there were going to be far too
many explanations.  But there was no more time.  She stumbled in
the dark, and felt a hand on her arm steadying her.  She wasn't
sure who it belonged to, but she was grateful.  Demona knew these
passages by heart, and she only by word of mouth from someone who'd
once wandered them a thousand years before.
     There was a light ahead, and she realized that they were
headed outside to the courtyard at the top of the castle.  In
moments, they had reached the top of the stairway and were out into
the last dregs of sunlight of the early evening.
     A sound came from the left, and Mulder aimed his gun.  The
elevator door opened, spilling out Xanatos, Fox, Owen, and several
others.  Mulder dropped his weapon, and Elisa heard fleeing
footsteps hurrying around the corner to the right.  She ran towards
them, knowing too well that the only thing at the other side of the
building was a ledge overlooking a sheer drop, and fearing that
Demona knew that too.


***

     Diana's training took over as she surveyed the roof.  Elisa
was running hellbent to a place just out of sight on the other
side.  After seeing the other woman's performance, Diana wasn't
certain if that hadn't been her intent.  She followed, long strides
quickly bringing her even with Elisa's date.
     Elisa slipped around the corner, and she heard a scream
dopplering into space.
     "Elisa!" shouted Bluestone.
     The last piece of sun slipped beneath the skyline, and Diana's
stomach fell with it.  She'd known Elisa's family for years; her
brother Derek had been a good friend, once upon a time.
     They sped around the corner, weapons drawn.
     Elisa stood at the edge of the building, staring at the dusky
horizon, as if looking for something.
     "Where is she?" asked Diana, already knowing the answer.
     "Gone," said Elisa, not looking away from the pink-tinged
clouds.  Then she did something quite unexpected: she said a very
unladylike word, turned on her heel, and marched away from the
ledge.
     Bluestone placed a concerned hand on her shoulder.  "Are you
all right?"  Diana had a sudden sense of deja vu.
     She nodded.  Mr. and Mrs. Xanatos and their aide came around
the corner with the guards, saw the five of them, and stopped. 
Elisa's date, who looked oddly familiar, was staring down the side
of the wall, not even acknowledging their arrival.
     "What happened?" demanded Xanatos.
     Elisa shrugged, and said cryptically, "The sun went down." 
Xanatos sighed, and his wife rolled her eyes.  Burnett tightened
his mouth.  Diana felt something pass among the four of them, but
couldn't capture it.
     Elisa's date looked up from the edge of the wall.  "You must
be Mr. and Mrs. Xanatos."
     "Actually," said Mrs. Xanatos, "it's just Fox."
     The man smiled.  "Then we have something in common.  My name's
Fox Mulder.  This is my partner, Dana Scully.  We're with the
F.B.I.  Maybe one of you can explain how a woman just jumped off
the side of a building and didn't make a pizza on the sidewalk." 
He looked over the edge again and clarified:
     "There's no body."

***

Please send all comments to missy@darklair.com or mrwilson@umr.edu.

Merlin Missy:)

From missy@ibm530.chem.umr.eduFri Oct 27 08:50:59 1995
Date: Fri, 27 Oct 1995 08:43:05 -0500
From: Melissa Wilson <missy@ibm530.chem.umr.edu>
To: missy@ibm530.chem.umr.edu

Disclaimer:  The characters of Mulder, Scully, and Skinner belong
to Chris Carter/1013 Productions, the "Gargoyles" belong to Buena
Vista/Disney, "Batman" and his gang belong to DC Comics, and the
characters from "Beauty and the Beast" belong to Ron Koslow/
Republic pictures.  No infringement on anyone's copyright is
intended or should be inferred.  If by chance there is actually
something in this story not covered by someone else's copyright, it
belongs to my own personal neurosis.

***
All Through the Night
a Gargoyles/X-Files/Batman:TAS/Beauty & the Beast/etc crossover
by Melissa "Merlin Missy" Wilson
missy@darklair.com
mrwilson@umr.edu
copyright 1995
***
Chapter 5: Conversations
***

     Fox tried to remain utterly blank at the news.  It wasn't as
difficult as she'd imagined.  Okay.  Demona, looking amazingly
human, shows up at the party.  Demona tries to cast a spell on her
and possibly her baby.  Demona is thwarted by the unusual teamwork
of Elisa Maza and Owen.  Demona runs through a passageway known
heretofore only to herself, David, and Owen.  Demona jumps off the
roof.  F.B.I. agent wants to know why there's no body.  And it's
just past sunset.  Acting blank was no problem at all under the
circumstances.  In fact, she tried to imagine any other state than
one of blankness.
     It was getting dark quickly.
     David's arms were around her, holding her as she sank to the
much more comfortable ground, and his voice was the heartbeat in
her ears, calling her name.  She wondered idly if the spell had
worked after all, and decided that she was suddenly very very
sleepy.  She heard from far away the female agent's voice, saying
that she was a doctor, and Fox had just enough consciousness left
to think, "But that only happens on t.v."
     She opened her eyes and found herself in her own bedroom, with
David holding her hand.  "What happened?"
     "You fainted at a very opportune moment."  He stroked her
hair.
     She pulled herself up.  "Don't be ridiculous.  I don't faint!"
     "Well, you did this time."  She turned her head and saw her
doctor.  "But you're none the worse for wear."
     "How long was I out?" she asked her husband.
     "About five minutes.  I was getting worried."
     "Where are our guests?"
     "Still in the Great Hall.  The two from the F.B.I. are having
a field day looking for you know who."
     "They won't find her."
     "I don't care if they find her or not.  It's what else they
might find that worries me."  He sighed.  "So much for our
meeting."
     "Well, maybe you'll have better luck with our next kid."
     "Maybe."  He kissed her on the forehead.  "Ready to go back
out?"
     She fell back among the pillows.  "David!"  Uninvited, the
doctor placed her hand on her stomach, and followed it with a
somewhat cold stethoscope, the one that David had bought the day
she'd told him.
     "We have most of the people who run this city in our living
room, and the commissioner won't let any of them leave until she
finds out who stole our angelic friend's corpse.  We have to at
least put in another appearance."
     She sighed.  She could get her way with him on a number of
things, but this wasn't going to be one of them.  "Doc?"
     "You're both fine."  The woman smiled.  "Besides, the only
alternative is to prescribe bed rest."  Fox frowned.  "I didn't
think so."
     "Okay okay.  I suppose someone has to go talk to those agents. 
Whose idea was it to invite Elisa and Bluestone in the first
place?"
     "Yours."
     "Right."  He helped her up.

***

     "It's good to see you again."  Barbara smiled blandly as Lane
walked away to find another likely candidate for information.  Well
*that* had been unproductive.  She scanned the crowd for Dick, and
spotted him near the F.B.I. agents, who were currently talking with
some guy in a wheelchair who looked familiar.  Then she placed him:
Elliot Burch.  She'd met him a few times out at social occasions
with her father, but that had been shortly before his accident. 
Afterwards, she'd felt awkward around him.  She knew it was silly,
that he was the same man as he had been, but at the same time, she
was afraid that she would say something to embarrass both of them,
so she'd stayed away.  She wondered suddenly how he'd been.
     She slid next to Dick and he placed his arm around her, still
eavesdropping.  She bent to his ear, a gesture they had done in
public many times before.  She breathed softly.  "Either Lane
doesn't know what's going on, or she's not talking."
     He murmured back.  "Burch is trying not to tell these two
something.  I'm beginning to think there might be bats in his
belfry.  Literally."
     She brushed her lips against his ear.  "You think he might be
sponsoring another Bat?"
     "I'm beginning to wonder.  I've been seeing some odd sights on
patrol.  Some have wings."
     She nodded; she'd seen the same things.  She looked behind
him.  Bruce and Selena were heading for them.  "The chaperons are
back."  They pulled away from their half-embrace to meet the wide
grins.
     "I take it you two kids are enjoying the party?" asked Bruce.
     "You could.  Bruce, can I talk to you a minute?" Dick asked. 
The older man nodded, and they moved aside.
     Selena rolled her eyes.  "You know, one of these days, they're
going to realize that standing away from us won't help."
     "But not anytime soon.  Have you heard from your friend Kit
lately?"  Or in other words, had she found anything out?
     Selena nodded.  "And she has some interesting news.  Did you
know that our gracious host had in his employ until September a
geneticist by the name of Anton Sevarius who had a thing for bats?"
     "Why no.  Do tell."

***

     Elisa nibbled half-heartedly at the broccoli spears.  They
weren't bad with the dip.  She had a sudden mental image of Owen
meticulously arranging the raw veggies on the platter and nearly
choked.  She took a sip of cider and tried to breathe normally. 
Once the Chief realized there was no body to be found, they would
be free to go, but for now, there was enough food to provide for a
small African nation, and it was going to waste.
     At least Mulder had finally left her alone.  His first action
upon getting back to the Great Hall had been to get a few samples
of Demona's happy juice while Scully had checked for any other
secret passages near where they'd last seen her.  Then the
questions had started.  He'd demanded to know what she'd seen, and
she had done what any good, law-abiding citizen would do under the
circumstances.  She'd lied through her teeth.
     As far as he knew, the mysterious woman had been gone as Elisa
had turned the corner, and that was all he was going to get from
her.  She smiled evilly to herself.  If he really pressed her,
she'd tell him the truth: the woman had jumped, turned blue, grown
wings, and flown off into the sunset to look for her seven-foot-
tall ex who happened to turn into a pigeon roost during the day. 
In fact, she considered doing it just to see the look on his face.
     "Something funny?"  She looked up.
     "Diana!"  The other woman smiled.  "How've you been?  I
haven't seen you around the station much."
     "I don't hang around the station much.  Do you know our
hosts?"
     She frowned.  "Far too well.  I helped put them both in
prison.  I think they invited me to gloat."
     Diana sat down beside her.  "If you don't like them, why did
you protect Fox from that woman?"
     She was wondering about that herself.  "At the time, it seemed
like the only thing I *could* do.  All part of the job."
     "What do you think happened up there?"
     "I'm not entirely sure."  It wasn't a lie.  "You were there. 
What do *you* think?"
     "Do you honestly want to know?"  Her voice was light, but her
eyes said volumes.  Elisa suddenly remembered a story she'd heard
about Bennett.  She'd been given a murder case, and she'd named the
perp after only seeing the crime scene for a few minutes.  She'd
nabbed him an hour later.  The guys gave her a wide berth because
sometimes she just *knew* things about people, and not just the
suspects.  In New York, everyone had a secret.  Elisa was certainly
no exception to that rule.  But she wanted to know.  She nodded.
     "I think she knows you, and she doesn't like you personally
for some reason.  Joy thought she was Xanatos' ex-lover, but that's
not right.  That's a different story from the one she's living out. 
In her story, someone has hurt her very deeply, and she's trying to
give the hurt back to anyone close enough to touch.  She thinks
that she wants you dead."
     "I'd say that's pretty obvious."
     "She doesn't, though.  She just wants you to hurt like she
does.  I think she planned what happened much more completely than
she let on.  Now she has you as a possible suspect for murder."
     "What?"  This wasn't making any sense, and then, it was. 
"Someone might think I pushed her."  Diana nodded.
     "I wouldn't worry about it too much.  Since there's no body,
it would be next to impossible to prove the case."  She had a
point.  "I also think you saw exactly what happened to her."
     "I already told you ... "
     "You saw," she said quietly, leaving no room for argument,
"and whatever happened, it has to do with your secret, the one
you're protecting with your life.  Him."
     Her heart stopped.  Damn!  She shouldn't have asked.  Playing
with fire again, eh Maza?  Good job.  Now you have the pet psychic
on the staff reading your mind.  Why don't you just tell Mulder
about the guys?  He'd certainly be interested.  Hell, it's after
dark, you should invite Goliath to the party.  He'd be a hit.
     Diana touched her hand, and she nearly jumped.  "It's all
right," she whispered.  "I understand."  Her wide blue eyes looked
into Elisa's own, and she knew somewhere deep within that she
wasn't just making small talk.  She understood, because ...  Elisa
had a feeling of vertigo as she watched Diana.  In her gaze, she
saw Goliath as he had been the night she'd met him, but instead of
being in the air, they'd been in a warm, enclosed space that spoke
to her senses as far underground.  Instinctively, she knew Diana
was seeing something both similar and vastly different in her own
eyes.
     For an endless moment, the two of them sat in perfect
comprehension of one another, broken finally by the sound of
laughter from another guest.
     Diana pulled her hand away.  "I think we should both start
mingling so that no one suspects a conspiracy."
     The last of the quick spell vanished from her mind like dust
after a summer storm, and she remarked, "The only ones suspecting
a conspiracy around here are my partner and my date."
     Diana looked behind her and grimaced.  "I think Elliot has
talked your date's ear off enough.  I'd better go rescue him."  She
stood up.  "It's been nice chatting with you, Maza."
     "Likewise, Bennett."  She paused.  "You do understand, don't
you?"  Diana nodded.  "Do you ... do you ever stop seeing ... " 
She couldn't finish; the words weren't right.
     "No," she said quietly.  "But you learn how to see everything
else, too."  She touched her shoulder, and was gone.

***

     Diana walked to Elliot's side casually, trying to calm the mad
beating of her heart.  She had touched something deep when she'd
spoken to the other woman, powerful like the motion of the sea.  In
her eyes, she'd seen Vincent holding Jake as a baby, but instead of
being in the warm closeness of the Tunnels, they had been standing
on top of an airy place with the wind surrounding them.  She'd
known without asking that Elisa had also seen something, and it
frightened her.
     Before she had met Vincent, her life had been complicated
enough, balancing her job and Mark and the things she simply
couldn't say to her sisters anymore.  Then Joe had come to her loft
begging her to take on a murder case, and her life had not been the
same since.
     She made a point of never regretting the past; regrets were
impractical, and got in the way of moving on with life.  She would
not regret having met Vincent, having found Jake, having killed the
man who murdered the baby's mother.  These were a part of the past. 
Yet, she wondered sometimes, when he was forced to kill someone for
her sake, or when the fragile secret of the Tunnels seemed to be
compromised, if she would have been happier not knowing, if she
could have just married Mark and settled down and raised a couple
of rugrats.
     At those times, the secret was heavy inside her.
     Of course, when she was feeling the lowest, when she was
trapped, confused, wondering where this impossible relationship
would take her, something else would happen.  Vincent would appear
tapping at her window with a passage from an ancient book to share
with her, or Jake would out of the blue grace her with that sweet
grin of his, and she would wonder again how she'd manage to live
without knowing them.
     Before tonight, she'd never dreamed that anyone could have the
same kind of pressing weight of a promise that *must* be kept, and
the new knowledge shook her.
     She smiled politely at the F.B.I. agents as she went to
Elliot's side.  "Excuse me."  The male agent's eyes widened.  In a
flash, she recognized him.  "You're the man from the station this
morning."  That was why he'd looked familiar on the rooftop.  He
nodded.
     "And you are?"
     "My sister-in-law," said Elliot.  "Diana, meet Agents Fox
Mulder and Dana Scully.  Madam, Sir, Detective Diana Bennett,
N.Y.P.D."
     "Nice to meet you," he said.
     "Likewise.  So has Elliot bored you to tears yet?"
     "Diana!  I'm hurt.  You don't like my witty conversation?"
     "How do you want your answer: honest or polite?"
     "How about sunny side up?"  The years had brought an ease to
her relationship with him, something she appreciated as it now
calmed away her anxieties, leaving her mind clear and focused. 
"The agents are attempting to discover what become of our
premenstrual friend."
     "You were there," said Scully.  "Did you see anything at all?"
     Diana shook her head.  "I got there the same time you did."
     Mulder said, "There've been other instances of people
disappearing in cases like this, although they usually aren't
jumping off buildings when it happens."
     "Maybe she grew wings," said Elliot.  He looked askance at his
chair.  "I can't say I'd mind a pair myself."  Diana suddenly felt
a cold flash run through her.  Beings large and glorious filled her
mind, with wings to buffet the air or glide through it like knife
blades.  The stones of the castle had known the brush of such wings
upon them, and yearned like a flower towards the sun for the return
of that beauty.  She placed her hand on the back of Elliot's chair
to steady herself.
     Scully's eyes grew worried.  "Detective?"
     "Just a little dizzy for a second.  Sorry."  She smiled,
hoping to disarm any more questions.
     "That seems to be going around."
     "Don't worry.  I'm not pregnant."  I hope, she added silently,
and wondered how well *that* particular revelation would go over if
she mentioned it to Elliot.
     He muttered quietly, "I knew they could make people disappear,
but this is ridiculous."
     "Who?" asked Scully.
     Elliot looked up, as if unaware that he'd been talking out
loud.  For a moment, he looked as though he'd been caught, then
glanced around as if making sure no one would overhear him.  He
wiggled his finger, and the agents bent close.  He reached out as
if to bring them closer still, then touched their ears.  He pulled
his hands back towards himself, holding a quarter in each. 
"Magicians, of course!" he said.
     Diana groaned, then looked apologetically at the agents.  "He
does that to me, too."  She shot him a look.  "Constantly."
     "Admit it.  You enjoy it."
     "Only sometimes.  Now if you're finished bothering these two,
maybe we can let them get back to their investigation."
     "Oh, all right.  But I finally had someone who hasn't heard
all my jokes yet."
     Scully looked at her partner, and smiled.
     He took a small step backwards.  "Forget it.  You're not
trading me in."
     "Come on," said Diana.  "Joy's going to think we're having an
affair."
     "You mean we're not?"  She slapped him lightly on the head. 
"But what will we tell the children?"
     She sighed again, and said to the agents, "If you change your
mind about that trade-in ... "
     Scully covered a laugh as they moved into a secluded corner,
no doubt to compare notes.
     She placed her hand on Elliot's shoulder as they looked around
for Joe and Joy.  "Nice job," she whispered.
     "Thanks.  I hope they take the bait."

***

     "He knows," said Mulder, barely concealing his anticipation.
     "Knows what?"
     "About the Illuminati.  About the meeting tonight.  Matt was
right!  Notice how he immediately changed the subject?"
     "I *told* him about the Illuminati this morning.  He didn't
want to talk then."
     "Maybe he didn't trust his secretary.  He was more than
talkative tonight."
     "He's setting us up.  Don't you see that?"
     "He's giving us information that he can't any other way."
     She stopped the urge to sigh heavily.  Why couldn't he see? 
It was just like with Manicure Man; Mulder was being told what he
wanted to hear and he refused to consider that it was all a
fabrication.
     "Besides, what good would it do to tell us about a society
that doesn't exist?"
     She tried to think.  Something about Burch had bothered her
from the start.  He was very intelligent, and his sister-in-law was
his equal.  He wouldn't have said anything he was worried she might
decipher, so whatever was going on, she was in on it.
     "What if he had something or someone to protect?  Someone so
close to him that he would risk putting us on a wild goose chase,
so that we'd stay away from the real target."
     "Do you think Burch is behind the Batman?"
     "If he exists, I think it's a real possibility, and I think
Bennett knows about it."
     "All right.  We'll check out Bennett and Burch.  But first, I
want to ask our hosts about our mystery woman.  They seem to be the
only ones who even know her name."
     They attempted to do just that.  It wasn't as easy as it
looked.  The couple were surrounded by bodyguards, presumably on
high alert after the incident, and with well-wishers.  There was no
way to get them alone without making a scene.  Heaven forbid we
make a scene, she thought sourly.
     Mulder tapped her shoulder, and nodded towards the buffet,
where Xanatos' aide was checking the mostly-ignored food.  Okay, if
they couldn't get the hosts, they would get the butler.
     "Mr. Burnett?"  The man turned.  "We have a few questions we'd
like to ask you."
     "I'm afraid you will have to consult with Mr. Xanatos'
attorneys."  Scully mentally banged her head against another wall
as Burnett turned to leave.
     "I'm afraid they won't be of much help to us," said Mulder. 
"We're looking for the perfect cup of tea."
     Burnett stared at them.  "Excuse me?"
     "We've heard from an associate of yours that you have a secret
blend of tea that is supposed to be something special.  We'd like
to know what it is."
     "That's a family secret, I'm afraid."
     "Then how about you just tell us the name of the woman who
tried to kill your boss, and we'll call it even."
     "If I knew what name she's hiding under, I'd be more than
willing to tell you.  However, I'm not entirely certain how she got
in myself.  Mr. Xanatos is most displeased."  He frowned deeper,
seemingly more concerned about Xanatos' wrath than the woman.
     "I'm having a little trouble placing your accent.  Where are
you from?"
     "Scotland, but I've moved around a great deal.  Now if you'll
excuse me."  He scooted off into the crowd before they could ask
him anything else.
     "This is getting old," said Scully.
     Mulder agreed.  "This city is reminding me more and more of a
place one of my friends was sent on extended assignment.  You ever
meet Cooper?"
     She nodded.  "Once or twice.  Before I met you, I thought he
was strange."
     "Cute, Scully.  Real cute."

***

Please send all comments to mrwilson@umr.edu or missy@darklair.com.

Merlin Missy:)

From missy@ibm530.chem.umr.eduFri Oct 27 08:51:41 1995
Date: Fri, 27 Oct 1995 08:43:17 -0500
From: Melissa Wilson <missy@ibm530.chem.umr.edu>
To: missy@ibm530.chem.umr.edu

Disclaimer:  The characters of Mulder, Scully, and Skinner belong
to Chris Carter/1013 Productions, the "Gargoyles" belong to Buena
Vista/Disney, "Batman" and his gang belong to DC Comics, and the
characters from "Beauty and the Beast" belong to Ron Koslow/
Republic pictures.  No infringement on anyone's copyright is
intended or should be inferred.  If by chance there is actually
something in this story not covered by someone else's copyright, it
belongs to my own personal neurosis.

***
All Through the Night
a Gargoyles/X-Files/Batman:TAS/Beauty & the Beast/etc crossover
by Melissa "Merlin Missy" Wilson
missy@darklair.com
mrwilson@umr.edu
copyright 1995
***
Chapter 6: Divergences
***

     The Chief finally let the guests leave at ten.  Selena
overheard Veronica Vreeland muttering about being beyond
fashionably late and allowed herself an evil grin.  She had never
liked Vreeland, not from the first time she'd met her.  She was a
flake, and Selena had no patience whatsoever with flakes.
     Funny, she thought, as Alfred pulled the car up.  She'd
believed the same thing of Bruce once.  She'd thought him as dim
and shallow as Ronnie, just another jet-setter out to turn a profit
and pretend that he had some kind of depth to him.  Over time,
she'd learned better, and discovered the dark, hidden places inside
of him that matched her own.  Together, they had slowly opened
those bitter spots to the sunlight, and like nightmare mists, they
had burned away leaving room only for each other.
     Alfred, ever the proper gentleman, opened the door for her
graciously.  His eyes moved past her, and she glanced back. 
Burnett was at the doorway, a rare half-smile on his face that
chilled her more than any scowl ever could.  She hurried into the
car and stared out the opposite window.  She knew that Alfred had
formed an odd friendship with the man, but he worried her in a way
she couldn't define.  Maybe he's a dog person, she thought.
     Then a stray image struck her.  Their hostess's name was Fox. 
So was the F.B.I. agent's.  So they'd had three bats, two foxes,
and a cat at the party, never mind what the woman had been.  Forget
baby shower, they'd had a bloody zoo!  She smiled, and the pale man
no longer frightened her half so much.
     Bruce sat beside her and the kids across.  Alfred shut the
door, opened his own, and got in.  "Home, sir?"
     Barbara shook her head.  "Do you think you could drop me off
first?"
     "Of course, Miss Barbara."  He pulled the car smoothly out of
the driveway.  As they left the grounds, Selena caught sight of
Burnett again, but he was far away now and Bruce was beside her and
warm.
     She slipped off her shoes.  "Oh, that feels much better."  She
closed her eyes for a few seconds.
     Dick asked, "Did you guys find anything else out?"
     "Not enough," said Bruce, sounding tired.  She placed her hand
on his.  Barbara touched the back of her own seat, and a panel came
open, showing one of the many terminals of the Bat computers.  She
typed something in quickly.
     "This is what we have on Sevarius.  He got his Ph.D. from
M.I.T. in '79, Genetics.  He worked for the government for ten
years, then was fired for performing unauthorized experiments. 
There's very little mention of his activities since then.  He was
working for Gen-U-Tech when he was killed in 'an industrial
accident' in September.  This is interesting: Gen-U-Tech is owned
by David Xanatos."
     "Go back to the unauthorized experiments part."
     Barbara typed a few more words.  "His research was based on
some weird ideas.  He wanted to combine human DNA with that of
various animals, including bats."
     "Great," said Dick.  "It's the Manbat all over again."
     "Not quite.  He had bigger ideas than that.  He wanted to have
major crossovers, putting cats, bats, even eels into the mix.  He
was fired after performing some preliminary tests on human
subjects."
     "And Xanatos hired him."  Bruce's eyes grew sad.  The abuse of
wealth and power had always bothered him.  She'd seen him chase
down petty criminals every night, then come home disillusioned
because he couldn't bring the big money backing them to justice. 
She felt the same way.
     Dick said, "If he continued his experiments while working for
Xanatos, then it's possible some of his creations got loose and are
responsible for the murders."
     "The F.B.I. Agents think that *we're* responsible somehow,"
said Selena.
     "Then it's up to us to find the killer.  Or killers."  Bruce's
jaw was set in a determination she hadn't seen in years.  As they
began mapping out a strategy, she wondered if this were a good
thing or not.

***

     Elisa held the stupid shoes in her hand as she climbed the
stairs to the clock tower.  It had been a long night, longer even
than the nights she worked, for some reason.  Seeing Demona, hell,
almost being *killed* by Demona, then having that strange encounter
with Diana, had put an unease in her heart.  She'd picked up her
car at the hotel where Mulder and Scully were staying, but instead
of driving home, she'd come here, not really knowing why.
     She heard Hudson's voice as she reached the top, and the
feeling slipped away to be replaced by the warm joy she'd grown
accustomed to more and more when she thought of the guys.
     "'May this day be ... bless sed above all ... others the day
when you ... ceased to forget my ... exis ... exist ... '"
     "'Existence,'" came Lexington's gentle prompting.
     "'Existence and came here to tell me ... to tell me ...
Roxanne who has ... taken off her mask ... ' Bloody hell."
     Elisa felt her face pull into a grin.  She took the last few
steps up into the lighted room.  "I didn't think *that* was in the
play."  Hudson and Lexington looked up from their books.
     "Hi Elisa," said Broadway, holding his own copy.
     "Where are Goliath and Brooklyn?"
     "Out on patrol," said Hudson.  "We're breaking it into shifts
so that there aren't so many of us in the sky at once."
     "Good idea.  Fox and Dana will be going back to Washington on
Sunday.  After that, there shouldn't be a problem."
     Broadway looked confused.  "Why is Fox going to Washington?"
     "Not that Fox.  Fox Mulder.  One of the F.B.I. agents.  He and
Matt have known each other forever."
     "Oh.  Okay."  He went back to the book, trying to find his
place.
     "What are you reading?"
     "'Cyrano de Bergerac,'" said Hudson.  "Goliath found it in the
library a few weeks ago."
     "Are you reading or performing it?"
     "A little of both," Lex said.  "We're reading the parts out of
order."  He looked up at her as if seeing her for the first time. 
"You wanna read Roxanne's part?"
     She stretched.  She hadn't done drama since that play in the
second grade where the mice had to put a bell on the cat.  She, of
course, had played the cat.  "Sure.  Could be fun.  Where are you?"
     Lex handed her the book.  "Right here."  He pointed.
     She looked at the page, then read out loud: "'First let me
thank you for humbling that arrogant fop with your sword yesterday,
because he's the man whom a certain great lord ... '"
     The two of them continued the scene, hindered only by Hudson's
occasional slips.  In minutes, she slipped into the part, seeing in
her mind's eye the old gargoyle as a brilliant Gascon soldier with
an unfortunately large nose.  The words played with them, and she
could half believe that they were the characters, and that the man
before her was waiting for her to say the one thing that could make
his world fill with light.  Yet, she knew this particular play,
knew that Rostand had made a tragic comedy, and that Roxanne would
never know of Cyrano's love until he lay dying.
     "'Tell him to write!'" she said.  "'A hundred men!  You'll
tell me about it some other time; I can't stay now.  A hundred men! 
What courage!'"
     He bowed, on cue from the stage directions.  "'Oh I've done
better since then.'"
     Applause came from behind them, and Elisa turned her head. 
Goliath and Brooklyn had returned from patrol, and were watching
from a short distance.  Lexington was clapping and whistling and
Broadway had a large smile on his face.  She turned back to Hudson.
     "We're a hit.  Maybe we should take it on the road."
     "I don't think I could face all that reading."  But he had on
his cheeks a color that in a younger gargoyle would have been
called a blush.
     "I could," said Broadway, a dreamy look on his face.
     "Good," she responded.  She handed him Lex's book and patted
him on the shoulder.  "Next time, *you* play Roxanne."
     "Bravo to both of you," said Goliath.
     "Yeah," said Hudson, turned an even deeper shade.  He thumbed
open to the last page of the book.  "'But what the ... devil was he
... doing there.  Filo ... filoso ... '" 
     "Philosopher," Goliath provided.
     "'Philosopher ... scien tist ... poet ... suwards man ...
musician ... airiell trav ell er ... '  No wonder you like this
play; this lad sounds like you!"
     Later, she would have sworn that Goliath glanced at her for
the briefest moment before Brooklyn said, "You kidding?  With that
nose, he probably looked more like me."  He patted his own long
beak.
     Lexington added, "Okay, so you play Cyrano to Broadway's
Roxanne."
     Elisa smiled.  "I can see that."  It felt good to be around
them, to listen to them.  Mulder and Scully couldn't possibly
understand the guys; they'd probably want to lock them away like
Xanatos did.  Then her face fell as she remembered the night's
events.  "I don't suppose either of you spotted Demona on the prowl
tonight?"
     "No," said Goliath, obviously disturbed.  "Why?"
     "She showed up to the party."
     "What?!"  She had their undivided attention now.
     "I think she wanted to do something to Fox and the baby.  I'm
not sure what, but the potion she used dissolved solid rock."  And
almost dissolved me, she thought.  No use getting them more
worried.
     "Was she in human form?"  Goliath sounded almost fearful.
     "Yeah.  Unfortunately, she left at sunset.  Via the roof."
     "Did anyone see her transform?"
     "Just me.  The others were too far behind, and she was gone
before they saw anything.  Now we have a missing body.  They think
she may have gone through one of the secret passageways, and I hope
they keep thinking that."
     Goliath looked skyward, as if perhaps to see her gliding above
them.  His gaze fixed on a distant star.  "If she's ever seen in
gargoyle form, they won't stop looking for us."  She wondered what
he was feeling.  Every night, it seemed more obvious to the rest of
them that only Demona's death would bring them safety, but that was
the one option Goliath refused to even contemplate.  The pain of
her betrayal was the one ache that would not heal with the rising
of the sun, yet he had not the strength to kill the woman to whom
he'd sworn eternal love once upon a time.
     Elisa wished again that his hurt would go away, as she said,
"They're only going to be here two more days.  After that, we don't
have to worry anymore."
     "About them.  What about other humans who want to find us?"
     "There won't be any others.  Matt doesn't even really believe
in you, and he's seen you.  Even Fox and Dana think they're looking
for Batman."
     "Fox Mulder," said Broadway helpfully.  "Not Fox Xanatos."
     "Then perhaps we should convince them that this 'Batman'
really exists.  What do you know about him?"

***

     "Come in."  Scully opened the door carefully, then realized
the light was on.
     "You couldn't sleep, either?"
     "Every time I close my eyes, I keep seeing the woman running
around the corner with Elisa right after her.  I can't see where
she goes next."
     "I know," she said, parking herself in the chair by the bed.
     "It's like she was transported out of midair."
     "That's 'Star Trek,' Mulder.  This is real life."
     "Is it?" he asked darkly.  "What about this life makes you
think it's any more real than what you see on t.v.?"
     "Well, we're experiencing it, for one thing.  I trust my eyes
and my ears and my reason."
     "My eyes saw them both around the corner before my ears heard
her scream.  My *reason* can't make heads or tails of it."
     "Neither can mine," she admitted after a pause.
     "Sunset.  It all happened at sunset."  He sat up.  "How did
you do in your self-defense classes?"
     "A.  Why?"
     "Because we need to go for a walk.  This city has a night
life, and we're missing it."
     "I'm not really in the mood to go looking for a club."
     "How about a bat?"  He began putting on his shoes.

***

     Diana had been waiting for only a few minutes before she heard
his almost silent tread from the other side of the wall.  One set
of footsteps.  She whispered, "Is Jake asleep?"
     "Yes," he whispered back.  The walls of the culvert took their
words and reflected them into calm murmurs.  "Do you have time to
come Below?"
     "Yes."  She heard a click, and the gate slid open on well-
oiled runners.  He stood just beyond the opening, waiting for her
with the serene majesty of some ancient and awful demigod.
     She stepped through and let him shut the gate again before
embracing him.  Contentment crept into her slowly.  She'd missed
him tonight.  Joe was a wonderful man, sweet, funny, and admittedly
handsome in his way, but being near him had never brought the
warmth that Vincent's presence could.  The sound of his voice drove
away the cold for her, even in the depths of winter.  After a long
time, they moved apart, only their hands remaining in light contact
as they headed down the familiar trail towards the Tunnels proper.
"Did you get the note from Elliot about the people from the
F.B.I.?"
     He nodded.  "Kirsten hand delivered it."
     "As it turns out, we spent most of the evening with them."
     "Why?"
     "They went to the party, too.  I don't think they were
invited; they came with two cops I know."  She remembered her brief
talk with Elisa.  "Do you know of a Helper named Elisa Maza?"
     He closed his eyes, searching his memory.  "The name isn't
familiar, but I could ask Father.  Her family might be one of the
older ones."
     She shook her head.  "Don't bother him with it.  If she were,
you'd know it."
     "Who is she?"
     "She's a detective in my precinct.  She brought the male
agent.  She may also be the only witness to ... something."
     He squeezed her hand comfortingly.  "What happened?"
     She sighed, wondering where to start.  She explained the
basics quickly.  When she got to the part about the disappearing
body, his eyes grew wide.
     "It sounds like magic."
     "Or science fiction.  That's what bugs me.  I have the feeling
that so much depends on Elisa and this woman, but I don't know
what.  If Elisa's not a Helper, then she's protecting someone else
the same way a Helper does.  And this woman, whoever she is, can
destroy that.  But she won't."
     "You're certain?"
     "As certain as I am on anything.  There is something very evil
about her, but there's also a great deal of pain.  If I had to say
anything about her, I'd say she lost something and that she'd give
almost anything to have it back.  She mentioned something to Fox
Xanatos about having as much luck with her mate as she had."
     Something caught her.  She hadn't said "husband;" she'd said
"mate."  That was important for some reason.
     "He's not dead," she whispered.  "He's not dead, because she's
not grieving for him.  She's grieving for herself, for losing him." 
She was very far away now, barely feeling his arms settle on hers. 
"And she hates Elisa.  Why does she hate Elisa?  Because she thinks
Elisa took him away from her.  So Elisa knows who he is and where." 
She met his eyes.  "He's the one's she's protecting.  That has to
be it.  But why go after Fox Xanatos?"
     "She could have just been a ruse to go after Elisa."
     "With champagne?  It doesn't make sense."  She sighed.  She
had seen it in her mind's eye for a brief clear moment, but it fled
her.
     "Narcissa casts spells with water.  If she believed that what
she did would work, and she could make the others believe that it
would work, then she could have used anything."
     "A spell?"  She managed a chuckle.  "I can believe in a lot of
things.  Magic isn't one of them.  Next you'll be telling me that
fairies ride the subway."
     "Why not?  It's an excellent way to travel."  She saw his
mouth turn to his best approximation of a smile.  She'd ridden the
top of a subway car with him a total of one time.  She'd held tight
to him as he'd latched on, and she'd seen little but his mane
flying in the wind and the moths that batted them in the face.  The
next time the subject had come up, she'd chosen to ride inside.
     "Maybe," she said.  Her mind drifted, and thoughts of the
evening were placed on a mental shelf to be dealt with later.
     "Would you care for some tea before you go back home?"  His
smile had remained, and spoke of more than just a cup of something
hot and sweet.  Jake *would* be sound asleep by this point, after
all.
     "You read my mind."

***

     Demona landed on top of the Empire State Building and folded
her wings around her against the cold evening air.  Normally, which
was to say before Puck had cast his damned spell on her, the cold
didn't phase her in the least.  Lately, though, she'd been aware of
being cold or hot or soaked, even at night.  It bothered her; she
wondered, when she dared to allow herself even consider it, if she
were becoming more human.  The thought disgusted her, but the
possibility was there, nonetheless.
     Idly, she raked her claws on the stone, leaving gashes to
mystify anyone who came looking.  She didn't care much.  Let them
look.  Let them see the gashes and wonder, like the people at
Xanatos' little soiree were wondering: what being was it that
walked among us and was gone?
     She rather hoped that they thought she was dead now.  That
human might even be put into prison for it.  She smiled bitterly. 
Let the clan visit her *there*.
     She removed the heavy ring from her finger and inspected it
critically.  The design had been popular centuries ago as a means
to rid oneself of one's adversaries.  A little powder in the right
glass could work wonders.  She doubted somehow that the original
owner of the ring had ever considered using it to cast a spell,
albeit a simple one.  She could have done better with the Grimorum
on hand, but this one would have worked just as well.  Assuming
Elisa hadn't been there, that is.  She glowered.
     At least it hadn't been a total loss.  She was fairly certain
that a few drops of the potion had landed on the human.  There
would be no way to tell at first, of course.  This spell took a
great deal of that patience she was developing.  It would have been
interesting to see work on Fox, she had to admit, but perhaps Elisa
would provide an even more satisfying subject.
     It wasn't a difficult spell, really.  Nor was the potion
involved harmful unless the words were chanted as it was thrown. 
It would have been perfect, for who could trace a stillborn child
to a few drops of spilled champagne?
     She wondered idly from whence the spell had first come.  It
wasn't out of the Grimorum; she'd learned it from the healing-women
of the mountains, the ones who'd used earth magic to care for their
charges.  She'd spared the life of one in exchange for such spells. 
She had waited three centuries to use this particular one; she
could wait a little longer to see if it worked.

***

     Fox lay staring into space.  The party was finished; most
everything had been cleared away or put into a place it could stay
for the night.  They had seen the guests out and away, had checked
the silver to see if anything was missing, had ordered all the
servants home.  Even Owen, whose sleeping patterns (or lack
thereof) were legendary, had retired to his room, claiming fatigue.
     David was snoring softly next to her, in a content slumber
brought by a long day.  Not to mention a delightful session of
lovemaking, she thought cozily.  By all rights, she should be
asleep too.  So why couldn't she?
     It was Demona, of course.  Somehow, she'd found a way into
their home, plotting no one knew what.  She didn't need to dream to
have visions of the enchanted potion striking her, causing her to
miscarry or worse.  She knew there was worse, had seen it happen
once to a friend.  She could see her own child being born at full
term, than carefully placed in her arms.  She could see the
horrible, twisted limbs, the asymmetric face with a plaintive
little mouth opening and closing in mute agony, and she heard
Demona laughing in her ears.
     She got out of bed.  There was no way she could sleep with
thoughts like these.  She slipped her robe on and crept out the
door as quietly as she could so as to not disturb David.  She
wandered down the hallway, thinking of Katharine again, wondering
how well she had known the gargoyles, if she'd liked them, if she'd
feared them.  She knew very little of the woman herself, merely a
few names and dates.  She wasn't even certain if she'd had any
children.  All she had were strange dreams of her, and of the man
who stood beside her calling her "My lady" in a gentle voice.
     "Did you?" she asked the silent walls.  "Did you find someone
to cherish?  Or did Malcolm marry you off to some overweight
landowner who loved your money more than you?  Did you even
protest?  Did you run away from him to be your own woman for once,
to find the man you really loved?  Or did you get locked up inside
some tower to do needlework?  I need to know, Katharine."
     Her thoughts turned briefly to her own father.  He hadn't
shown, of course.  She hadn't expected him to, but still, his
absence hurt a tiny bit more than she had thought it would.  So
what if he didn't approve of David?  The least he could do was come
for the announcement of his own future grand-something.
     She found herself in the kitchen, now filled with the
leftovers from the party.  She poked around in the fridge and dug
out a gallon of milk.  She poured herself a generous glass, then
put it back.  She needed more than milk, though.  She nibbled at a
piece of cheese from one of the innumerable platters, then spotted
a plate of cookies.  Owen left them in a strategic place for David
to find during midnight raids.  He wouldn't mind if she took a few. 
She grabbed three, perched on a stool at one of the counters, and
ate her snack in a pool of moonlight.

***

     Scully strolled arm in arm with her partner along Times
Square.  They were keeping an eye out for anything suspicious,
which was a harder task than they'd first imagined.  Everything
looked somewhat questionable, from the man across the street who
was looking furtively at his watch then at the sky over and again,
to the two women walking similarly arm in arm with a guide dog
leading the way.
     A young woman of perhaps eighteen or so passed them.  She
actually made eye contact, which surprised her, and she noticed
that her eyes were the darkest she'd ever seen.  The young woman
turned her head and spotted the man across the street.  Her face
brightened, and she dashed across to hug the man.  Then they both
stared at his watch.
     Strange things happened at two o'clock in the morning, she
decided.
     "The video was shot here," Mulder said, stopping and looking
around.  He seemed disappointed.
     "You were expecting gargoyles to be walking along the street
with us?"
     "Not really.  I was just hoping that maybe we could find a
reason for whoever it was to be *here*.  Matt said there was some
kind of monster over by that fire hydrant, and then another one
came to stop it."
     "Sounds like the Batman to me."
     He didn't say anything, instead looking closer at the hydrant. 
"Nothing unusual."
     Scully looked around.  It was just another city late at night,
she decided.  Except for the number of XXX-rated movies available,
which she'd noticed Mulder eyeing, they could be in D.C.
     "Care for a walk in the park?" he asked suddenly.
     "Only if you have your gun on you."
     "Done."  They ambled towards the direction of Central Park,
Scully feeling more than vaguely ridiculous.  She's heard about
Central Park after dark.  It was rumored to be crawling with
muggers and various other lowlifes.
     Then again, what better place could they have to find a serial
killer dressed up in a bat costume?
     They walked as casually as possible into the park, keeping
careful watch for anything at all, including homicidal maniacs and
the like.  It was amazingly quiet, and she realized that even
muggers probably needed sleep.  They watched the sky, the trees,
the bushes, everywhere, as the stars kept watch and a lone cricket
chirped discontentedly in the cold darkness.
     They were in the middle of the park when she felt a sharp tug
on her arm.  Mulder pulled her around behind a tree and pressed his
hand over her mouth.  "Shhh," he whispered.  He leaned around the
tree, and once he removed his hand, she followed suit.  He was
carefully watching a drainage culvert.
     Oh boy, she thought.  He's lost it.  Then she saw movement. 
Two figures stepped out of the culvert and into the moonlight.  One
was tall, well over six feet, and shrouded in a dark cloak.  The
other was much smaller, feminine in aspect, holding his hand.  She
contained a gasp as she recognized her.  It was the woman they had
seen first thing in the morning, now years ago, the same woman they
had met again at the party, teasing one of the wealthiest men in
the city, all the while looking so strongly of Mulder's sister to
make them both afraid.  Diana Bennett, she thought.
     The larger figure bowed to Diana and a cloud covered the moon. 
When her eyes had adjusted to the light level, both were gone.
     "What the hell was that?" she asked, wondering as she said it
if she really wanted the answer.
     "I'm not sure, but I'd be willing to bet we just found our
Batman."

***

Please send all comments to missy@darklair.com or mrwilson@umr.edu.

Merlin Missy:)

From missy@ibm530.chem.umr.eduFri Oct 27 08:52:51 1995
Date: Fri, 27 Oct 1995 08:43:27 -0500
From: Melissa Wilson <missy@ibm530.chem.umr.edu>
To: missy@ibm530.chem.umr.edu

Disclaimer:  The characters of Mulder, Scully, and Skinner belong
to Chris Carter/1013 Productions, the "Gargoyles" belong to Buena
Vista/Disney, "Batman" and his gang belong to DC Comics, and the
characters from "Beauty and the Beast" belong to Ron Koslow/
Republic pictures.  No infringement on anyone's copyright is
intended or should be inferred.  If by chance there is actually
something in this story not covered by someone else's copyright, it
belongs to my own personal neurosis.

***
All Through the Night
a Gargoyles/X-Files/Batman:TAS/Beauty & the Beast/etc crossover
by Melissa "Merlin Missy" Wilson
missy@darklair.com
mrwilson@umr.edu
copyright 1995
***
Chapter 7: Suspicions
***

     Bruce adjusted his suit one final time.  It had been nearly a
year since he'd last worn it, and it felt odd on his frame.  Maybe
he'd been hitting the cookies too hard lately.  Maybe he was just
getting too old for this.  Then it modified itself slightly as he
moved, and fitted smoothly to his body as it always had.
     "Bruce?"  Selena was behind him.  He turned.  She was in her
pajamas, and looked frightened.  She'd probably woken up minutes
before.  "I thought I'd find you here."  On second thought, she had
the look of someone who'd tried to sleep for hours but had failed.
     He stopped himself from putting his arms around her to
reassure her, and instead fiddled with his utility belt.  "I have
to go out on patrol tonight.  I have to find out who's committing
these murders.  Otherwise, they'll come with more questions."
     "Then let me come with you."  She was almost pleading.
     "You can't.  You know why."
     "What will a little harmless dressing up do?  You know I can
stay out of trouble when I try."  She placed her palms against his
shoulders.  He took her hands as tenderly as he could and held them
against his chest.
     "Please just stay here for now.  I'd feel safer."
     "I wouldn't.  You haven't been out Batting in ages.  A lot of
the mythos has worn off in your absence."
     "And a lot more has developed.  I just need to find out what's
going on.  I'll be home soon."
     "Will you?" she asked.  "Or will he?"  She turned and walked
out of the cave before he could ask her what she meant.
     With a curious mix of sadness and almost-forgotten joy, he
leapt into the Batmobile and started the engine.  Like a restless
lion, it purred beneath his touch.  This was what he had lost when
he'd chosen to give up his double life: this power, this freedom.
     Just one more night, he thought as he pulled out.  Just one
more night of living by my wits, of guarding my city, of being at
one with the night.  Just let me have it this once, and I'll give
it up forever for her.  I swear.

***

     Mulder cursed.  There was nothing in the culvert but, well,
culvert.  There was nothing to indicate that anything more ordinary
than drainage had ever taken place there.
     "Maybe they just came here to make out," Scully suggested.
     "It's now three a.m. and we're in a drain pipe in the middle
of Central Park.  Would *you* come here to make out?"
     "Not if I had a choice, no.  But if I were also dating the
District Attorney of Manhattan, I'd probably want to cover my
tracks pretty well."
     "I don't get it.  Why come here to have an affair, unless it's
with someone she can't trust with anyone else?"  He slammed his
fist against the wall.  "Nothing about this case makes any sense!"
     She yawned.  "It's late.  Why don't we go back to the hotel
and come at this fresh in the morning?  Maybe by then we'll have
had a brilliant insight."
     "Maybe," he said, but he allowed her to take his arm and lead
him out of the park.  The walk back to the hotel was silent.  It
was not until he was in his own room that he allowed himself to
think about what had transpired through the night and try to see a
pattern.  So far, the *only* pattern he could discern was that
beautiful redheads in New York were trouble.  Of course, that
didn't include his date for the evening, who was also trouble if in
a different way.  His mind returned to the image he'd had earlier
in the evening, of the human moths with giant wings, hurtling
themselves towards self-immolation and immortality, whether it be
against the giant neon Coke sign in Times Square, or just a bare
windowpane.
     After forever, he slept.

***

     Someone was knocking.
     "Yes?" she said, blearily.