Take These Broken Wings
A "Gargoyles" Fan Fiction Story by Dylan P. Blacquiere (pblacqui@cycor.ca)

Story #5
Description:  What does it take for two people to fall in love?  Brooklyn and
Carbonear are about to find out with the help of two good-willing friends...

AUTHOR'S NOTE : With some exceptions, none of the characters used in the story
are mine.  "Gargoyles" characters belong to Walt Disney/Buena Vista Television.
This is an unofficial story, not sanctioned in any way by Disney.  Also, I have
decided that in this, and in every future story, I am ignoring the existance of
any episodes after "Hunter's Moon, Part Three", for the most part.  Not because
I don't like them, because I LOVE them, but because they and my universe
conflict so badly that letting anything besides the first two seasons exist
would make my stories unintelligible in terms of my plotline.  Finally, this
story contains mature subject matter (sexual content, and language), so read at
your own volition.  However, reader discretion is advised.
Also, The Rockaway, Tish, Gomez, Ramona, Sasha, Theo, Frank, and Isadore are all
the characters and locations of the very talented Christi Smith Hayden, and are
used with her permission.
Just a little note of thanks to the following people (You know who you are!)
Christi, Kellie, Mary, Amanda, Vince, Meg, Leah, Proteus, Lori, Tim, Mark,
Matthias and everyone else who's been there for me.  Wicked friends, all.
Thanks a lot, guys. :-)
Finally, Kim Stockwood is a real person.  Don't accept my characterization of
her as the honest to God truth about her personality.

HISTORIAN'S NOTE:  This story takes place five months after "Heart of a Saturday

Night", and
one year after "Shadowplay, Parts One to Six"  Before you read this story, you
should read Chapter Six of "Heart of a Saturday Night" ("Between Lovers And
Friends")

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BROOKLYN:  "When it does happen, I think it'll be something special."
"Heart of a Saturday Night"

BONAVISTA: (voice over)  "Previously, on 'Gargoyles', my son..."

CARBONEAR:  "I'm more in love with you than ever, my son.  I pictures the two of
us together, being in love, and...I just want to know, is there ever any chance
of it happening in real life?"
(Show Carbonear staring at Brooklyn sadly, "From Darkness To Light")
"Heart of a Saturday Night"

BROOKLYN:  "If I were to fall in love with Carbonear, what would everyone
think?"
BROADWAY: "I don't think any of us would be terribly surprised."
(Show Brooklyn and Carbonear roosting together, 'Immortal Beloved"
"Heart of a Saturday Night"

BROOKLYN: "I want to take my time.  I want to go slow.  I don't want to rush
blindly into this, because if something does happen, I don't want it to end in a
puff of smoke."
"Heart of a Saturday Night"

CARBONEAR: "I suppose ye must have heard it somewhere along the grapevine that I
likes Brooklyn more than a friend."
"Heart of a Saturday Night"

WHITBOURNE:  "She wants ye somethin awful, my son.  She told me once she'd be
after waitin' till the Second Coming if it took that long for you to love her."
BROOKLYN: "Till the second coming."
"Heart of a Saturday Night"

BROOKLYN:  "Your pendant..."
HAWTHORNE:  "When you find someone else, who loves you as much as I did, and who
you love as much as you did me, give it to her.  Tell her it's to pledge your
love."
"From Darkness To Light"

OWEN: "Just remember that every someday eventually becomes a tonight."
(Show Owen becoming Puck, "The Gathering, Part Two")
"Heart of a Saturday Night"

BROOKLYN: "Why do I get the feeling that baby is going to be big trouble?"
"The Gathering, Part One"

OBERON: "You are hereby stripped of all your powers.  Save when protecting or
instructing the boy."
"The Gathering, Part Two"

BONAVISTA: "I just wanted to beat ye out for once."
WHITBOURNE: "We'll find a woman for ye yet, Bonnie."
"Lady Delilah's Lover"

ELISA: "You do what you want with that.  I don't want to think about subversion
or Silhouette anymore."
(Show Silhouette and the Forbidding being banished, "From Darkness To Light")
"Immortal Beloved"

PUCK: "Heeeeere's Puck!"
"The Gathering, Part Two"

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Prologue

          And If These Broken Wings Could Fly...

     The shadow bolt flew wild, and struck Brooklyn in the shoulder.  He roared
out in pain, and looked up as Silhouette prepared to blast him again.
     "YOU BITCH!"  he screamed, his features twisting in absolute hate.
Silhouette laughed, and blasted him.
     "Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Brooklyn."  Silhouette chided.  "I thought you would
have learned by now that the battle isn't over until I say it's over."
     Brooklyn snarled, and tackled her.  Behind the two of them, Broadway was
using his power, killing Woodstock.  Hawthorne was turning to stone, and
Lexington, Angela, Ophelia and Carbonear were locked in combat with the
subverted.

     Brooklyn didn't even notice.  He was intent on the monster beneath him, who
was bent on destroying the world, changing it into a place of shadow.  Suddenly,
Silhouette snapped her fingers, and Brooklyn died.
     However, for some reason, he was still there.  He stood over his lifeless
corpse, shaking in rage.  "You monster!" he shouted.  "You can't do this!  We
won!  It's over!"
     "Guess again."  Silhouette spoke, with the Forbidding's voice.  "Like I
said, it ain't over until I say it's over."
     As the Forbidding's voice echoed around the top of the castle, it
heightened in pitch, subtly changing until it matched Brooklyn's voice.
Brooklyn suddenly felt a tap at his shoulder, spun around, and saw Ariel.
     "She's right."  Ariel stated sadly.  "Nobody said it was over yet.  You
just assumed that on your own."
     Ariel suddenly held up a mirror, and Brooklyn saw his face reflected.  His
eyes were purest ebon black.
     Brooklyn suddenly screamed...

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***

Castle Wyvern
October 29, 1997
6:58 p.m., Eastern Standard Time

     ...and felt the familiar crash of stone as stone sleep was thrown off for
another day.
     Brooklyn roared, and suddenly began to shudder.  He nearly fell off the
side of the tower, when Hudson caught him.
     "Whoa, lad."  Hudson frowned.  "A bit unsteady on your feet tonight?"
     Brooklyn swallowed.  His throat was dry, and his voice was a whisper.  "I'm

fine."
     All around the parapet, the others were having similar reactions.
Broadway, Ophelia and Angela were shivering, their eyes looking shocked and
fearful.  Lexington was leaning against the wall, catching his breath.  And
Carbonear was blinking her eyes repeatedly, panting.  Bonavista and Whitbourne

were looking at each other in confusion.  Goliath soared down from the top of
the tower, looking concerned.
     "Are you all right?"  he asked.  "I saw you nearly fall..."
     "I'm fine."  Brooklyn stated again.  He hopped down, and looked to
Broadway.  You too? his expression read.  Broadway nodded yes, and sighed.
     Brooklyn sighed, and turned to Carbonear.  "You wanna come in for some
breakfast, Carb?"
     "Sure."  Carbonear replied, giving him an uneasy smile.
     Broadway, Angela, Ophelia and Lexington all followed them into the castle.
They were talking uneasily amomgst themselves.
     Whitbourne and Bonavista glanced at Hudson and Goliath, who shrugged.
Bronx let out a bark, demanding attention, and then whined.
     "I knows why they's all like that."  Bonavista sighed.
     "So do I."  Goliath remarked.  "It's the first anniversary."

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***

     "I take it we all had roughly the same dream."  Angela sighed.  "I dreamt
about Avalon, and the search for the first piece of the Ring."
     "I dreamt about being shot."  Ophelia remarked, shuddering.
     Broadway looked at Carbonear.  "I guess it goes without saying what I
dreamt about.  Woody."
     Brooklyn looked at them all, and then at the calendar on the kitchen wall.
"It's hard to believe it's been a year.  A whole year."  he frowned, flipping
back the pages on the calendar.  "This time last year, we still thought the
Servants of Twilight were just people with some disease."
     "And then all that mess happened." Lexington sighed.  "It is hard to
believe it's been a full year."
     Carbonear looked at them, and gave a weak smile.  "Maybe we should remember
the good things that was after comin' out of that, too."
     "Like?"  Ophelia frowned.
     "Like you, Witless, Bonnie and Carb coming here."  Angela looked at her

rookery sister.
     Brooklyn nodded.  "We're over it.  Everything's fine.  We just had bad
dreams, that's all."
     Everyone nodded in agreement.  Broadway walked over to the stove, and got a
frying pan from the cupboard.  Goliath, Bonavista, Whitbourne and Hudson walked
in, Bronx following.
     "Here, I'll give ye a hand, bye."  Whitbourne offered, walking over to get
a carton of eggs from the fridge, smiling oddly as he did so.  Several of the
gargoyles sat down at the kitchen table, and the others stood around the
counter, pouring glasses of juice and getting out utensils.
     "Are the six of you all right?"  Goliath asked.  "I realize that this time
of year might be difficult, with the memories of what you went through..."
     "No, we're fine.  Thanks."  Ophelia reassured him, smiling.  She frowned,
and got a can of frozen fruit punch from the freezer.
     Bonavista suddenly looked excitedly at Carbonear.  "Carb, guess what?  I
got me stuff for my costume last night!"
     "Did ye?"  Carbonear smiled.  "I'se gettin' some of my stuff from Fox."
     Goliath blinked.  That was right; it was only two nights from now that it
would be Hallowe'en.  As far as he knew, everyone except himself and Whitbourne
were planning on dressing up.  Whitbourne had hinted that he had something big
planned for Hallowe'en, and whenever he was asked about it, he would break into
gales of helpless laughter.
     The whole rest of the clan was planning on celebrating the holiday in
style.  They had missed out on Hallowe'en last year.  The holiday had been
fairly subdued all over the world, since the subversion crisis had been going
strong and the world had been in a state of panic over the "Richmond Pandemic".
Brooklyn, Broadway, Angela and Lexington had been on Avalon, in the midst of a
deadly struggle for the first piece of the Ring.  But they were planning on
celebrating in style this year.  They had been arranging plans to go to the
annual Hallowe'en party at the Rockaway, the gargoyle-friendly club that
Lexington and Ophelia had discovered this summer.  The entire clan had been
there repeatedly over the summer, and now the gargoyles were just as familiar
there as the infamous Ramona and Sasha.  Goliath had never been there, but
thought that he might check it out some night when he got around to it.
     Brooklyn raised an eye ridge, slyly.  "You guys can brag about your
costumes all you want, but we all know that mine's going to be the best.  I had

to set things up with Xanatos just to get the pieces of most of it."
     "That's kind of going overboard."  Broadway called from the stove, expertly
flipping an egg sunny-side up; the only way Whitbourne would eat them.  "You've
been pestering Xanatos to get you the pieces, and you refuse to tell us what
you're going as."
     "Ye told me, my son."  Whitbourne frowned.  "Nobby O'Toole.  What the hell
is that after meaning?"
     "You'll see."  Brooklyn replied cryptically.  He fiddled with a salt
shaker, and looked at Carbonear.  She smiled at him, and pursed her lips.
     "Ye's gonna be surprised when Broadway comes along with his costume.  I
helped him with his, eh, Broddy?" she grinned.
     Broadway looked up, and smiled.  "Let's just say that there's someone you
might like to meet, Hudson."
     Hudson frowned.  "I know what you're going as, lad.  You're dressing up as
an old woman."
     "Not just any old woman...Mrs. Enid."  Lexington grinned.  "Ophelia and I
are the only ones dressing up as something normal."
     "You sound like you're all going to have a good time."  Goliath noted,
thanking Broadway as a plate of eggs was set down in front of him.
     Bonavista grinned at him.  "Goliath, my son, she'll be goin' up that night,
I can tell ye that right now."

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***

     "Dear, have you seen my fishing hat?"  David Xanatos asked, reaching up
into the closet.
     "David, why are you looking for that?  You can't go fishing tomorrow, you
have an investors meeting with Barrick.  And I haven't seen it anyway."  Fox
replied, shuffling through some papers.  David looked at her, and frowned.  He
suddenly had a flashback to a year ago that night.  Fox had been getting a
stapler, and...
     He blinked, and shook that thought out of his head.  He hadn't even thought
of the Silhouette affair in months, and he didn't feel like starting now.
     "It's not for me, I'm looking for it for Brooklyn.  He wanted it for part
of his Hallowe'en costume."
     "Is that why you were rooting through all your fishing gear?"  Fox asked.
"For a costume for Brooklyn?"
     "Well, I didn't think I'd have to spend a day looking for it.  I could have
sworn my stuff was here.  Are you absolutely sure you haven't seen it?"
     "Positive.  David, forget about it."
     Xanatos sighed, and shut the closet door.  "What are you looking for,
anyway?"
     "I'm looking for the stuff you want me to take down to Legals tomorrow to
get notarized."  Fox replied.  She ruffled through a cabinet.
     "Don't you think they'd be in the office?"
     "I looked there."
     David threw up his hands, and sighed.  "I'll go look again.  You don't
always give this sort of thing your best effort."  Fox shot him a dirty look,
and he kissed her.  "I don't mind.  I didn't marry you for your para-legal
abilities."
     He let go of her.  "Besides, I should head down to the office anyway.  I
have to pick up some things, and  I might as well head into the nursery to check
on Alex and Owen.  The stuff I want is in a brown envelope with the name Wilson
Carter on it."
     Fox nodded, and David left to go to the office.  He passed by the kitchen,
where the gargoyles were cleaning up after breakfast.
     I wish they'd saved me some, he thought with a smile.

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***

     Gurg was suddenly picked up off of the floor, suspended in midair.  Nobody
was holding the stuffed bear; to the casual observer, it looked like the toy had
decided that gravity was for losers.
     To someone who knew more, however, it looked like school was in session.
     Puck floated several feet above the air, smiling.  "Good job, kid!"  he
grinned.  The bear gently floated down to the ground. Alexander Xanatos looked
up at the fae with an extremely bored expression.
     "I know, I know.  I taught you that months ago.  But you have to keep
practising your basics, kid, or else you'll lose everything you've learned."
Puck stated solemnly.  "And trust me; if that happens, and Principal Oberon
finds out, you'll probably be sent to the Avalon Boarding School and I'll be
getting severance pay."
     Alexander looked at Puck sullenly, and crossed his arms.  "Want new."  he
stated.

     "You want to learn new stuff.  Well, I suppose I could teach you a few
pranks you can play on people later..."
     "Wibun?"  Alex grinned.  Playing tricks on Whitbourne had turned out to be
one of his favorite topics.  His speech was improving, but he still couldn't
quite get the grasp of the exact pronunciations.  That wasn't Puck's concern,
and the Xanatos' were more than content to wait for Alex's diction to progress
at it's own rate.
     "Yes, Whitbourne.  But first, just a little more practise on the basics."
     Alex's brow furrowed. Without even waiting for Puck to tell him what he
wanted done, he began to levitate his toys off of the floor.  They began to spin
crazily about the room, and suddenly started to launch themselves around.
     "Whoa, whoa, whoa!"  Puck cried.  Alex began stamping his feet, having a
temper tantrum.
     "I want new!"  he protested.  His busy box suddenly went flying across the
nursery, nearly going through the window.  "Boring!"
     Puck rolled his eyes, ducking as a squadron of building blocks went sailing
overhead, nearly smacking the fae in the head.  "Alex, stop it right now."
     "No!"  Alex screamed shrilly.  His crib began to shake, and was suddenly
three inches off the floor.  "Want new!  Want new!  Want new!"
     Puck frowned, and snapped his fingers.  The toys all fell to the floor, and
the crib settled down.  Alex, standing in the middle of the floor, crossed his
arms again, and began to sulk.
     Puck's mouth twitched.  "What the heck was that?"  he muttered.  "Why have
you been having so many tantrums lately?"

     Alex stuck out his tongue, and Puck returned the favor.  The levitating
sprite casually waved a finger, and the room was cleaned with nary a second
thought.
     "I realize you may think these lessons are boring, but...for Oberon's sake,
Alex, ever lesson we have lately always ends up the same way.  You get ticked
off, and you have a tantrum."
     Alex exhaled, and regarded Puck with disdain.  "You're borin'." he stated.
"I want new."
     "Me boring?" Puck grinned.  "Ha!  All right, kid; lesson's over.  Tomorrow
night, we'll try again, and the next night's the big night."
     Alex's sullen expression vanished, replaced with one-and-a-half year old
excitement.  "Hal-ween?"  he asked, his green eyes twinkling.
     "The night we tricksters come out to play."  Puck agreed.  He looked at
Alex.  "And you, you little pipsqueak, you are going to have the time of your
life."
     Alex laughed.  At that moment, David Xanatos walked into the nursery.  He
knelt down, and extended his arms, and Alex, laughing happily, ran into them.
He gave his dad a hug, and Xanatos picked him up.
     "Daddy!"  he screamed.  "Daddy!  Hal-ween!"
     "Yes, it is.  What are you going to dress up as?"  David asked, looking
with genuine interest into his son's eyes.
     "Boom-boom Power Ranger!" Alex cried, and he began to wave his fists in the
air.  Puck laughed, and rolled his eyes.  As he did so, he metamorphosed back
into the ramrod straight form of Owen Burnett.
     "A boom-boom Power Ranger?"  David asked.  "Oh no!"  He gave Alex another
hug.  Alex sighed contentedly, and patted his stomach.
     "Hungry?"  David asked.  Alex nodded.
     Owen smiled.  "I'll go and make him something to eat.  In the meantime..."
     David frowned.  "He had another temper tantrum, didn't he."
     "I managed to defuse it, but yes.  And they are getting worse."
     "Hmm.  Well, that's just a normal phase, I thought."
     "It is a phase, Mr. Xanatos, but coupled with Alexander's magical talents,
such things could have unexpected results.  And he seems to be getting
increasingly reckless."
     David shot a glance at Alex, who was busily playing with his father's
ponytail.  "What do you mean, reckless?"
     "I mean, he's developing an attitude that he can do whatever he wants.  I
believe that's normal for children his age, but still..."
     "Hmm."  David sighed.  "We'll have to see how things go along.  But I doubt
he means to misbehave during his lessons."
     "There's no doubt in my mind he has no intentions of that.  He is only
acting normal for children his age, but because of his abilities..."
     David nodded.  "Well, we'll just have to see."

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***

     In the TV room, a couple of gargoyles were sitting, watching the tube,
passing the time until patrol.  Brooklyn, Carbonear and Hudson were watching
"Entertainment Tonight", the latter on the recliner, the other two on the sofa.
Lexington was fiddling away with his laptop in the corner, typing out files for
his and Whitbourne's Bras d'Or webpage.  The announcer on the TV was telling
America that The Tragically Hip, with special guest Ashley MacIsaac, would be
performing at Madison Square Garden in mid December, so it might be a really
good idea to get their tickets now.
     "Well, as soon as Bonnie hears that, he'll be hellbent."  Lexington called
over.  "The Tragically Hip and the X-Files are his two biggest loves."
     "Ye forgot Oggie's homebrew."  Carbonear smiled.
     Brooklyn nodded.  "Him and Witless and their old black rum."  he grinned.
     Hudson got up.  "Well, lads and lass, I'm going to see if Goliath's about."
he yawned.  He walked out of the room.
     Carbonear turned, and looked at Brooklyn.  "So, Nobby, what are you at when
we gets back from patrol?"
     "Nobby O'Toole's getting his costume together."  Brooklyn grinned.
Lexington looked up, and rolled his eyes.
     "Will you tell me just who the hell Nobby O'Toole is?"  he asked.
     "You'll see the night after tomorrow, my son."  Carbonear chided.
     Lexington muttered something under his breath.  He saved the file he was
working on, and shut down his computer.  "I think I'm on patrol tonight, so I'm
going to get ready before we go."
     Brooklyn and Carbonear watched him go.  They smiled, and Brooklyn laced his
hands behind his head.
     "Why does ye insist on not tellin' them ye's dressin' up as a fisherman?"
Carbonear asked.  "I mean, it's not like it's shameful, or nothing..."
     "Cause I'm not dressing up as a fisherman."  Brooklyn replied.  "Nobby's a
whole other personality.  He's kind of based off of that fisherman on the Pride
of Penobscot.  Besides, Broadway's doing a personality change too.  He almost
wrote a life history for Mrs. Enid.  I can't wait till Ramona and Sasha see the
two of us, they're going to think we're complete retards."
     "They already do."  Carbonear grinned.  The clan was quite familiar with
the antics of the Rockaway's barflies.  It was also quite clear that they had
the best times around Whitbourne and Bonavista.  While Whitbourne would
philander just enough to get Delilah jealous and get a make-up dance, Bonavista
had worked up quite the reputation for herself.  However, Ramona was into his
game, too, and Carbonear had a sneaking suspicion that Ramona would soon give
Bonavista a surprise or two.
     Brooklyn grinned.  "But they think Witless and Bonnie are completely nu..."
he stopped, and stared at the television.
     "Meanwhile, at the bookstores, Michael Crichton's newest suspense novel,
entitled 'Black Eyes' is set for North American release this week.  This is the
first fiction novel based on the mysterious Richmond Pandemic, which first
emerged in New York City one year ago this week, and vanished without a trace
about one and a half weeks later.  Crichton's novel deals with a resurgence of
the Richmond Syndrome in Los Angeles, and a doctor's race to contain the disease
in an inner city hospital before it spreads across the globe again.  Crichton
commented today that like his earlier novel, 'The Andromeda Strain', it deals
with an illness that no one understands, and that lack of knowledge makes it all
the more likely that Richmond could return." the announcer stated, with an
infuriating air of mock concern.  On the screen behind the announcer was a stock
picture of a person with a sadistic smile and jet black eyes.
     "What bullshit is this?"  Brooklyn spat.  He began grinding his teeth.
Carbonear looked at him concernedly, and sighed.

     "In any case, Crichton is already rolling in money from the release of this
book.  Advance publicists have stated that European releases are planned in mere
months, and talk is already being made with Tri-Star pictures over the
possibility of developing 'Black Eyes' into a full length feature film.  Many

other authors are cashing in on Richmond as well, including Richard Preston,
bestselling author of 'The Hot Zone', whose new book 'Richmond' is set for
release next month.   Look for 'Black Eyes' in your local bookstore soon."
     Carbonear picked up the remote, and shut off the TV.  Brooklyn was shaking
in rage.
     "Those bastards!"  he hissed.  "They don't know what it was like!  They
weren't there!  They're turning what we went through into a goddamn royalty
grabbing..."
     "Brooklyn."  Carbonear sighed.  "Things like that happen.  Ye has to
remember, nobody except us really knows what was after happening.  I thought it
was just some disease too, until you buddies showed up in Newfoundland to
convince me otherwise, and even then I weren't so sure."
     "That's not the point!"  Brooklyn snarled.  Then, the hateful expression
died, and he sighed bitterly.  "Look, I'm sorry.  I...I don't know what got into
me.  I guess it was just that...you know, it was a year ago today that the whole
mess started for me, so I'm a little bit edgy."
     Carbonear nodded.  "I noticed.  And I noticed ye's been spending a lot more
time in Hawthorne's room lately, too."
     "I guess it's just the season.  A year since I met her, a year since she
died.  I just feel like it's been such a short time ago."
     "How's ye feeling, my son?"  Carbonear asked, with genuine concern.  "Ye's
not feelin' depressed again or nothin', is ye?"
     "No." Brooklyn replied.  "I just...I guess I just kind of miss her a little
bit more around this time of year, that's all.  I don't mean...I don't..."
     He got up, and let out a small, bitter sigh.  "I have to go." he stated, in
a very small voice.  He turned and left the room.
     Carbonear got up, and followed him as he went up the stairs, and into the
room where Hawthorne's statue was kept.  She watched as he stood in front of it,
staring.
     "Brooklyn, I'm sorry..." she began.
     He turned around, surprised to see here there, but he didn't become angry.
"It's okay.  I'll be all right."
     "Is ye sure?"  Carbonear asked.  She walked up behind him, looking at
Hawthorne, and she grabbed his shoulders.  "Is ye sure you'll be fine?"
     Brooklyn didn't say a word.  "I guess I was just reminded of it all again.
But this week, I think I'll be thinking of it all a lot more.  Because I guess
the fact that's it's been a year will just remind me of her more.  But I don't
think I'll be as bad as I was in February, no."
     "That's good."  Carbonear sighed.  She hugged Brooklyn tightly in a bear
hug, and he tentatively squeezed back.
     "C'mon, bye.  I thinks we should go back to the TV room, or somethin'."
     Brooklyn nodded, and he and Carbonear left the room, shutting the door
behind them.
     Brooklyn looked at Carbonear, and smiled.  "I really don't know what I
would have done this year without you."  he stated.  "You were a great friend,
and I'm really, really glad I know you."
     "Well, it's the same right back at ye, Brooklyn, my son."  Carbonear
sighed.  "And the last five months since that date...the one where we started
accepting how we feels...was pretty grand, too."
     And they had been.  Brooklyn and Carbonear had spent practically every
night over the summer together, doing things similar to their first real date
that long ago Saturday night.  Carbonear had had a splendid time with him, and
she knew she and Brooklyn were now officially inseparable best friends.  Like
Sonny and Cher once had been.
     There was just one problem in Carbonear's mind...Brooklyn still wasn't
ready to love her.
     Oh, sure, they did everything together.  And after that night in June,
where Brooklyn had finally admitted that he felt something strong for Carbonear
as well, the two of them had steadily moved closer.  But the three magic words
that Carbonear wanted so desparately to hear, that she craved so much she was
willing to sell her soul to hear them...well, they were still missing.  A year
after Hawthorne's untimely death, he still wasn't willing to let go in that
final step, and admit that he was in love with somebody else.  With Carbonear.
     Carbonear had long ago let Brooklyn know how she felt.  In fact, he had
known since before Hawthorne's death.  And even though he knew, he had kept her
waiting for reasons that were enirely understandable.  So she had waited.
     Like a fisherman's wife, after waitin' for her hubby to come home from the
sea, Carbonear thought dismally.  No matter how much that moment, that golden
instant she was sure would come someday when Brooklyn would sweep her up into
his arms and proclaim his everlasting love for her, loomed ahead, she was
beginning to feel a dismal acceptance in the fact that she wold most probably be
waiting a long time yet.
     She blinked as her good mood was simply shattered, as the pain over
Brooklyn surfaced again.  Her smile died, leaving an expressionless visage.
     Brooklyn nodded, not noticing the pain in her expression, and squeezed her
hand.  He looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face.
     As they returned to the TV room, they saw Angela waiting.
     "Oh, there you are!" she greeted.  "Brooklyn, Goliath wanted me to tell you
that you're on patrol tonight.  Carb, you've got the night off."
     "Aw, merde."  Brooklyn smiled.  He looked at Carbonear.  "When I get back,
do you want to go to the games room?  Shoot some pool?"
     "Sure."  Carbonear smiled.  She was appalled to find that she was quite
suddenly on the verge of crying, for what seemed like no reason at all.
     Brooklyn looked at her suspiciously.  "Are you OK, Carb?"
     "No, no, I'm fine."  Carbonear looked away.  "Be on with ye, my son.  Ye
has to go."
     Angela looked at Brooklyn, who was staring at Carbonear with an expression
of confusion on his face.  He smiled at Carbonear, and turned.  "See you later."
he stated.  Angela  grinned, and wished her a pleasant evening.
     "Bye, now.  Don't be out all night beatin' up crooks, now."  Carbonear
grinned.  Brooklyn looked back, and gave her a wide smile.  Then, he and Angela
were out the door, and were gone.
     A few minutes later, Carbonear was still standing in the exact same
position she had been when he had left.  When she decided it was safe to do so,
when nobody was around, she gave into the weakness.  Silent tears began to flow
down her cheeks unchecked.
     "I loves ye."  she stated, long after he had departed the castle with the
others.  "I wish ye loved me too."

********************************************************************************
***

Connaught Music Store
9:34 p.m., EST

     The mugger looked in terror at the the two creatures before him.  He let
out a high-pitched squeal, muttered something about needing a Quarryman, and
promptly fainted.  The victim had long since run away screaming.  Brooklyn and
Broadway, standing at the entrance to the alley just beside the music store,
looked at each other and shrugged.  They hadn't even had to say one word, or
make one move.  The mugger had not been too much in the spine department.  As
soon as the two gargoyles landed, his perfect crime fell apart.
     "Do you get the feeling these guys are getting more pathetic every night?"
Broadway asked.  He walked over to the mugger, and wrinkled his nose.  "Geez.
This guy pissed himself."
     Brooklyn smiled, and took a piece of discarded piano wire from the trash
can by the wall.  He tied up the would-be mugger, holding his breath.  Sirens
suddenly echoed throughout the air.
     "I guess the woman went to call 911." Brooklyn sighed.
     "Hmm."  Broadway shrugged.  He dragged the mugger out into a more noticable
section of the alleyway, and scaled the wall.  Brooklyn followed, and the two
gargoyles began to glide over the city.
     Brooklyn sighed.  "Broadway, can I ask you something?"
     "Go fer it, pard."  Broadway smiled.
     Brooklyn sighed.  "I think Carb's starting to get ticked off at me."
     "Why would she be mad?  She practically adores the ground you walk on."
Broadway grinned.  His rookery brother sighed.
     "I think it's cause I'm not worshipping her, yet."  Brooklyn looked away.
     "Oh."  Broadway's grin died.  "Well, maybe you should start."
     "Do you know how much I want to?"  Brooklyn snapped.  He closed his eyes.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to blow up like that. But I want to so much, and I can't
think of how I can start to do it."
     "What do you mean?  It's not hard.  You go up to her, and tell her you love
her, and there you go." Broadway frowned.
     "Yeah, yeah, but would I be saying it because I really felt it, or just to
make her happy?"  Brooklyn asked.  He made a face.  "That didn't come out the
way I meant it.  I mean, I know I love her, but I don't know how to tell her."
     "It's not rocket science."  Broadway mumbled.
     "It's not that simple, either."  Brooklyn muttered.  "Especially right now,
because of the anniversary of the search for the Ring.  I feel something
powerful, and good...I feel so whole when I'm around Carbonear.  I'm feeling the
emotions I felt around Hawthorne..but I don't know how to let Carb know that.
I'm afraid if I try, I'll screw it up."
     Broadway sighed.  "If you want my advice, you should go for it.  Give it a
chance, Brook!  Tonight when we get off patrol...or even tomorrow night, if you
want time to work yourself up to it...go up to her, tell her you love her, and
let the games begin."
     "What if I don't, though?  What if it turns out that I don't love her yet,
and I end up breaking her heart?"  Brooklyn muttered, sounding like he was
disgusted with that excuse.  He knew he loved her.  In the five months since
that date where he had determined that he felt more for her than just
friendship, his feelings had steadily deepened.  He was beginning to strongly
suspect that what he felt could finally, at last, be called love.  Now, all that
remained was to let Carbonear know...which he doubted would be easy.
     Broadway sighed again.  "Then you'll have to start over again when you do
love her.  But just remember; 'tis not every day that Morris kills a cow, as
Witless would say."
     Brooklyn blinked, and smiled at Broadway's Newfieism.  Broadway was saying
that if he waited too long to cash in on a good thing, he'd lose it.
     But still...
     He still didn't feel quite ready to tell Carbonear how he felt.  He wanted
desparately to throw off the restraints of unsurety.  He wanted to let her know
that he was ready to love her.  However, something was urging him to take his
time...but on the other hand, it had been five months since that night on the
jetty, when he had revealed his feelings.
     Maybe it is time, Brooklyn thought, but then there was a scream from below,
and cries for help.
     Broadway rolled his eyes.  "Here we go again."  he sighed.
     Brooklyn smiled wryly.  "It's why we get payed the big bucks."  he smirked.
     "Well, then, I'm expecting a pretty frigging big paycheck pretty damn
soon."  Broadway laughed.  They chuckled, and began their descent.

********************************************************************************
***

Castle Wyvern
10:00 p.m., EST

     "Owen, could you put Alex to bed?"  Fox called.
     "Of course, Mrs. Xanatos."  Owen replied.  He got up from the desk, and
left his office, going to the nursery.  Alex was in his playpen, and was almost
asleep right there.  Owen allowed a brief smile when he saw the heir to the
Xanatos fortune curled up on the bottom of the playpen, with a teddy bear
wrapped contentedly in his arms.
     He picked up Alex, who groaned, but remained asleep.  The baby was gently
set into the crib, and Owen flicked on the musical mobile.  The sounds of some
quiet lullaby filled the air.
     Suddenly, it was interrupted by the rising sound of a reel being played on
a fiddle.  It wasn't near loud enough to wake the baby, but Owen realized it
singnalled the start of another problem.  One he planned to rectify very soon.
     He left the nursery, and headed towards the smoke hole.  The fiddle reel
got louder, and as Owen opened the door, he saw why.  Carbonear was in the smoke
hole, alone, playing her fiddle.  She saw Owen, and continued to play.  The reel
was being played in a minor key, and Owen was suddenly reminded of the old love
ballads he used to play on his flute, as Puck, on Avalon.
     It was over, finally, and Carbonear set the fiddle aside.  "I supposes I'se
wakin' the baby."  she muttered.
     "Not at all."  Owen replied curtly.  "Play to your heart's content."
     Carbonear smiled.  "Nah.  That's enought reelin' for me tonight, Owen, me
lad."
     Owen couldn't help but notice that the smile was terribly forced.
Obviously, something was bothering her, and it most probably had to do with
Brooklyn.  That was the only thing Carbonear ever got upset about.  She and Owen
had talked about it a couple of times since that night in June when Owen had
told her that all somedays eventually became tonights, but apparently, Carbonear
was losing faith in that sentiment.
     She looked at Owen, and ran a hand through her long, white hair.  "It still
ain't happening." she stated.
     "Brooklyn still hasn't admitted it.  You told me the last time we talked."
Owen nodded.
     Carbonear sighed.  "I guess I'se just gettin' resigned to the fact maybe
it'll be years before we finally admits it to ourselves."  she sighed, picking
up her fiddle bow.  "The thing is, it's maddening.  I knows he feels something
for me, but he's too scared to let it come to the surface.  He gives me a story
about how he's afraid he'll lose me if he doesn't go right slow, says he doesn't
want to lose me like he lost Hawthorne..."
     She turned her head, and Owen realized she was crying.
     "Carbonear..." he frowned.  He liked her, and he hated to see her cry.
     "It's not fair!"  Carbonear protested.  "We's gone through so much
together...the Ring, suicide attempts...and he still doesn't love me!"
     "You're great friends..."
     "I doesn't want to be just friends with him!"  Carbonear hissed.  "I wants
him to sweep me away, to knock me off of my feet...you know, all them cliches.
That's what I wants.  For him to come up to me, take me in his arms, and tell me
he loves me."
     Owen frowned, and stepped a little closer to her.  "You know he wants to,
too.  I've seen this before.  He needs a little more time."
     Carbonear looked mildly surprised to be recieving love advice from Owen
Burnett, but didn't say a word about it.  She slumped over in her chair, picked
up a half-empty package of cigarettes on the table, and set it back down.
     "It's been a year."  she stated softly.  "It's been a whole blessed year.
And I'm starting to lose faith.  I feels so selfish, but I can't help it."
     "After all you've done for him, you deserve to be selfish."  Owen stated,
taking his glasses out of his breast pocket and polishing them.  "You saved him
when he was subverted, from what I understand.  More importantly, you saved him
from himself when he was grieving for Hawthorne.  If it wasn't for you that
time, he would most probably have attempted suicide again, and be dead.  Wanting
something for yourself...something you need and deserve...it isn't a crime.  Not
after everything you've done for him."
     Carbonear looked at him quizzically.
     "And don't lose faith.  Remember what I told you...all somedays become a
tonight.  What if you decide to give up on Brooklyn, and your tonight comes?"
     Carbonear sighed.  "I can't go on like this.  I has to know whether he
loves me or whether he don't."
     Owen smiled.  "Patience is a virtue, Carbonear.  And while you may feel
that a year is much too long to wait, I doubt you'll have to wait too much
longer."
     "Why is ye doin' this?"  Carbonear asked.  "Ye doesn't strike me as the
sort to care too much about matters of the heart."
     "On the contrary."  Owen smiled.  "I'm more experienced in matters of the
heart than you would think."  As Puck, he didn't say.  None of the
Newfoundlanders had ever seen him as Puck, and he knew they were a little bit
skeptical of the fact that he, the stiff, cold, major domo, was in actuality a
fun-loving fae trickster.  "And I've seen many beautiful maidens in my time feel
like giving in, and swearing to become old maids, but that shouldn't have to
happen to you.  Do what your heart tells you to do."
     He leaned in closer, as if he was going to share a secret.  "What does your
heart tell you to do, Carbonear?"
     Carbonear closed her eyes.  After a few minutes, she opened them again.
     "It's after tellin' me to keep waiting."  she stated.  "To keep waiting for
him, because he and I is destined to be."
     Owen smiled, and stood up.  "Well, then, you have it.  You're heart tells
you to wait, so wait.  I have the utmost confidence that it won't be long until
the waiting is over."
     Carbonear loked at him, stood up, and gave him an awkward hug.  "Thanks,
Owen."  she stated.  "Ye's given me my faith back."
     Owen smiled, and stepped away from her.  "I have other matters to attend
to, Carbonear.  Have a pleasant evening."

     "I will." Carbonear smiled.  She began packing her fiddle back into its
case.  Owen watched her for a brief second, and shut the door.
     She deserves so much better, he thought.  She deserves to have Brooklyn
love her.
     So why don't you do something about it? the Puck within piped up.  His
voice was filled with glee, at the excitement of doing something potentially
fun.
     "What could I do?"  Owen frowned.  "I cannot play with people's emotions.
It wouldn't be right."
     Oh, right, smight. Puck's voice, the voice of mischief, replied.  Besides,
you don't have to make the gargoyle love her.  He already does, apparently.  He
just needs a little push.
     What if he doesn't love her?  Owen asked,  the thought echoing throughout
his mind.
     Well, then, make sure he does before you do anything.
     Owen stood there for a little while, unsure.  Then, Carbonear opened the
door to the smoke hole.  She stepped out, waved cheerily, folded her wings
around her shoulders, and set off, whistling, down the hallway.  Owen watched
her retreat.
     He pursed his lips.  It wouldn't be right to make someone love her.  That
wouldn't be true love at all.
     But Puck was right.  To merely bring out the feelings, so Brooklyn realizes
he loves her...
     A smile crossed his face as the plan entered his mind.  This might be fun
after all.  And he was fairly confident his pupil would be gleeful as well,
since he had never entered into the foray of love spells as of yet.
     Owen Burnett chuckled, and walked to his office to prepare his lesson plan.

********************************************************************************
********************************************************************************
********************************************************************************
*********

Chapter One

          Make Of Two Hearts

Nightstone Unlimited Headquarters
October 30, 1997
9:12 a.m., EST

     Dominique Destine sat in her office chair, her feet up comfortably on the
desk.  She was looking at an article in an archaeology magazine, and she was
holding the telephone.  She had one of the biggest smiles she'd ever had on.
     I can't believe it, she thought.  It's an exact copy...
     She'd heard stories of the Grimoire of Gaulois before...she had spent a
millenium traveling the world looking for such things to help her destroy the
humans, and if there was a magical artifact anywhere that she hadn't at least
heard of in passing, she would be very surprised.
     The Grimoire of Gaulois was an exact copy of the Grimorum Arcanorum.  Like
the original, it had been written during the heydays of the Roman Empire; like
the original, it had been taken from Rome to other parts of the Empire's vast
realm.  However, unlike the Grimorum, which had gone to England, and had made it
across Hadrian's Wall into Scotland, the Grimoire of Gaulois had instead been

taken to what was now modern day France.  According to the magazine, it had
recently been discovered in a library in the small city of Montpellier, and was
being sent to New York for study at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
     And that suited Dominique just fine.  That meant that instead of jetting
off to southern France to steal it, she could do it right here.
     She had just gotten off the phone with the curator of the museum.  Matthias
Vanderaa, who had been the curator for three years and had a passion for Roman
antiquities, had just told her that the Grimoire was scheduled to arrive in two
weeks.  The prospect of waiting irritated her, but she supposed she could live
with it.
     Demona grinned again, and looked at the ceiling.  She began to have
pleasant daydreams of killing every last human being on the face of the
earth...and possibly Goliath while she was at it.  Although, maybe she would
content herself with casting the mind enslavement spell on him again, like she
had three years ago.  Wouldn't that be fun?
     She was in such a good mood that she decided to go for a walk in the park.

********************************************************************************
***

Greenwich Apartment Complex
10:23 a.m, EST

     She was having a VERY pleasant dream about Goliath until the doorbell rang.
     Elisa Maza groaned, got up out of bed, tripped over the cat, and fell to
the floor.  She said a very nasty word, got up again, and shuffled to the door.
Looking through the peephole, she realized she had never seen her caller before
in her life.  It was a young girl, looking to be about nineteen or twenty years
old.  She had shoulder length brown hair, and light hazel eyes. She was very
small, and had sort of a pinched face.  She wasn't ugly...in fact, she was
actually quite pretty, but Elisa wasn't paying close attention to physical
attributes at this time of day.
     "Who is it?"  Elisa called.
     "Your new neighbour."  came the reply.  "I thought I'd come over to
introduce myself, say hi, shoot the breeze...you know.  Just before I went to
class."
     Elisa considered telling her where to go, but decided that since it was
rare enough for a complete stranger to care enough to say hello, she might as
well accept it.  She opened the door, and the girl extended her hand.
     "Oh, I'm sorry...did I wake you?"  the girl asked, looking like she wanted
to run away and hide.  "I didn't know..."
     'Yeah, it's all right."  Elisa yawned.  "I'm a night shifter."
     "Well, uh, my name is Kennedy Woodworth."  Kennedy stated, shaking Elisa's
hand.  "I'm your new downstairs neighbour, and I just thought I'd come up to say
hello."
     "Well, it's nice to meet you, Ms. Woodworth."  Elisa greeted.  "I'm Elisa
Maza."
     "Lisa Maza?  Hi, Lisa, it's..."
     "Elisa.  There's an E in the front."  Elisa smiled.  She let go of
Kennedy's hand, and bit her lip.
     "I won't keep you if you're trying to sleep, Ms. Maza."  Kennedy blushed.
"Just thought I'd come up to say hello.  Maybe you can come down for some coffee
at a more convenient hour...when you aren't trying to sleep, that is.  I'm
really sorry."
     "It's okay."  Elisa grinned.  "I'm not a witch who kills people that wake
her up.  And I'm actually pleasantly surprised.  It's not often someone takes
the time to go and visit their neighbours."
     "Well, we Woodworth's are kind of a friendly sort."  Kennedy grinned.  "I'm
really sorry I woke you up, Ms. Maza.  I have to go, now, anyway.  I've got a
class in forty-five minutes."
     "You go to Columbia?"  Elisa asked.
     "Uh huh.  I'm two years into my Bachelor of Science degree.  Chemistry
class, and then labs all day.  Blast and a half, I tell you."  Kennedy grinned.
"Oh...is it true there's a party at that Rockaway place down the street tomorrow
night?"
     "Uh huh."  Elisa nodded.
     "Wicked!"  Kennedy grinned.  "I'll have to go to that.  I went to the
Rockaway this summer once, and those gargoyles from the TV last year were
there."
     Elisa involuntarily stiffened.  If she turns out to be a closet Quarryman,
I'll never speak to her again, she thought.
     Kennedy went on.  "They're wild party animals.  I hope they're there."
     Elisa relaxed.  "Well, I have to get some rest.  Thanks for stopping by,
Ms. Woodworth."
     "The pleasure was all mine, I'm sure."  Kennedy grinned.  "Sorry again."
     Elisa nodded.  "Bye!"  Kennedy waved, and she walked away.  Elisa waved
back, and shut the door.  She walked back into her room, and collapsed on the
bed.

********************************************************************************
***

23rd Precinct House
5:43 p.m., EDT

     Matt Bluestone walked into the lobby, and headed upstairs to the
detective's offices.  He took of his jacket, and sat down at his desk.
Impulsively, he reached into the jacket pocket, and pulled out the box.  It was
small, and could fit in someone's hand quite nicely.  Ah, but the thing in it...
     He was just about to open it up again when Captain Chavez peeked out from
her office.  "Bluestone, could I talk with you for a second?" she asked.
     "Sure."  Matt stated.  He stuffed the box in his pocket, and walked into
her office.  Chavez was going over some paperwork.
     "Matt, I couldn't help but notice your note on my desk asking for a night
off tomorrow night."  she stated, without looking up.
     "Yeah."  Matt frowned.  "Is that all right?"
     "I wish you wouldn't."  Chavez looked up.  "It's Hallowe'en tommorow, and
that means prank patrol."
     "Prank patrol!"  Matt cried.  "Come on, Captain, I..."
     "Maza's on it.  You're her partner.  I really think you should go on it."
Chavez folded her arms.  "Even I'm taking part."
     "I thought the officers took care of that, not detectives."
     "They're understaffed at the moment, and they asked for our help."  Chavez
shrugged.  "I'm not too impressed with it, myself, but the idea of a bunch of
little twerps running around throwing eggs and starting fires doesn't sit well
with me either."
     Matt sighed.  "Captain, there's a reason I asked for the night off.
Cornelia and I were going to a party..."
     "Maza had plans too, but she put them on hold."  Chavez stated.  "I'm sorry
about you and your girlfriend, but I..."
     Matt hauled out the box, and opened it.  Maria stopped in midsentence,
staring at the engagement ring inside of the box.
     "I was planning on proposing to her."  Matt stated quietly.  "She told me
that Hallowe'en was always a special day at her house when she was growing up,
so I thought it might be a nice idea."
     "Matthew..."  Chavez gasped.  "Jesus God, Matt, how much did...are you..."
     She looked up, and Matt noticed she was smiling widely.  "Congratulations!"
she grinned.  She stood up, and shook his hand.
     "Thanks."  Matt sighed.  He shut the box with a click, and put it away.
"So, the night off?"
     Chavez looked at him, and sighed.  "It's still inconvenient, but..."
     She grinned.  "But with a rock the size of that one, I guess prank patrol's
a little less important.  Fine, Bluestone.  You've got the night off."
     Matt grinned.  "Thanks, captain." he smiled.  He turned, and left her
office.
     "Got me a night...OFF!" he belted out.  "Gonna be with my baby...YEAH!"
     "Uh, Matt..."  John Morgan called over.
     Matt looked over to him, and began to whoop.  He strutted all the way to
his desk, spun around in the swivel chair a couple of times, and then began to

drum on the desk with his hands.

********************************************************************************
***

Castle Wyvern
6:56 p.m., EST

     The gargoyles hopped off of their perches, yawning after awakening.
Goliath looked around, anxiously hoping to see Elisa, but she wasn't there.  She

had told him that she had to go to work earlier for the few days prior to
Hallowe'en to set up prank patrol...he had obviously forgotten.
     Brooklyn, meanwhile, was headed for the smoke hole.  "Carb, you want to
come to the Rockaway for awhile?"  he called.  "I just want to see what's
kicking tonight."
     "I'se goin' too, Uncle Brook."  Whitbourne called.  "Delilah said last
night she'd be after meetin' me there."
     Carbonear looked at Brooklyn, and shrugged.  "I guess so, my son."
     Brooklyn nodded.  "I just have to go get changed, then.  I'll be right
out."
     He walked into the castle, and headed quickly to get his track suit.  The
others went into the doors as well, deciding to do other things tonight.
     Whitbourne stretched, and Carbonear rolled her eyes.
     "Showin' off that awesome body of yours, huh?"  she grinned.
     Whitbourne gave her the finger.  "Oh, shag off.  I'm not fat, or nothin'."
     "Ye used to be a little pudgy."  Carbonear reminded him.
     "Well, pardon me.  Ye's not no aerobics poster girl yourself."  Whitbourne
laughed.  "Besides, Delilah's after likin' seein what I gots to offer."
     "And how much does ye have to booze her up beforehand?"
     Whitbourne crossed his arms.  "Awful witty tonight, me girl."
     Carbonear shook her head.  "So why is ye not goin' to the Rockaway tomorrow
night, my son?"

     "Cause it's Hallowe'en!"  Whitbourne whooped.  "Ye doesn't go to parties on
Hallowe'en, me girl!  It's the night ye goes trick or treatin'...but I'se in it
for the tricks.  Why does ye think I'se been sneaking eggs every night for the
last month?"
     Carbonear shrugged.  "Oh, I doesn't know."  she exclaimed sarcastically.
"Ye obviously never learned nothin' from the year before last, Witless.
Remember when the constabulary almost caught ye throwin' eggs at the
Confederation Building?  And when they ran into ye again when ye set that fire
in the dumpster on George Street?"
     "That's what Hallowe'en is all about!  Bein' a pain in the ass!"
Whitbourne laughed.  He began to tick off points on his talons.  "I got's tons
and tons of eggs, a couple of lighters, friggin' five bars of soap, and some
baloney to stick on people's cars and potatos to shove up the mufflers.  I gots
to make up for last year.  It weren't no fun with the black eyes around."
     "Yeah, well, ye just remembers that this ain't St. John's, Witless.  They's
a lot of people here that don't like gargoyles.  And if they sees ye running
around, bein' an egg throwin' pissant like ye is every Hallowe'en...it ain't the
best excuse, my son, but it's enough for some people to figure we's not exactly
noble."
     "Frigg noble.  I wants to have some fun."  Whitbourne grinned.  "Oh,
lighten up, Carb.  It's not like ye never does it.  Remind me again, me girl,
who was after soaping all Oggie's windows and throwin' eggs at his car?"
     Carbonear blushed, and began to chuckle.  "Elisa's on to ye.  I overheard
her tellin' Goliath she was poppin' up here tomorrow before she went on prank
patrol to frisk ye."
     "She will, too."  Brooklyn stated, walking back onto the parapets.  He was
wearing Sean Duffett's old track suit again, the one which had been given to
Whitbourne with gargoyle modifications.  It was Brooklyn's standard attire when
he went to the Rockaway. "You've got a bad rep, Witless."
     "Half of it's a pack of filthy rotten lies that Bonnie's after spreadin'."
     Brooklyn shook his head.  "Nope.  The funny thing is, you always seem to
forget that there's security cameras all over the castle when you do that stuff.
We're planning on stringing up some clips of what you do, that we captured on
tape, and sending it to the NBC Nightly News.  I can see the headline...'Idiot
Makes Ass Of Himself On Videotape'."
     Carbonear burst out laughing.  Brooklyn shot Whitbourne a smug glance, and
he hopped up onto the ledge.  "Let's go."  he stated.
     Whitbourne rolled his eyes, and took off into the October sky.  Brooklyn
looked briefly at Carbonear, and the two of them followed Whitbourne.

********************************************************************************
***

The Eyrie Building Infirmary
7:12 p.m., EST

     "Mrs. Xanatos, you don't have to worry.  It is just a phase."  Dr.
Elizabeth Tanner stated.  She had been a behavioral psychologist for years, and
spent Thursday nights working at the Eyrie's infirmary.  Fox Xanatos liked her;
she was nice, and she had a way with children.  Even Alex.
     Fox sighed, and sat back on the couch.  She watched Alex, who was playing
with some blocks on the floor.  One of them began to float around the room.  Dr.
Tanner looked at that, and frowned...after a long explanation on Fox's part
several months ago, Dr. Tanner tentatively accepted Alex as being an exceptional
child in some respects; i.e., being able to lift his toys with the sheer force
of his will.  Fox hadn't told her about magic...as far as Tanner knew, Alex was
just one of those people who could do that sort of thing.  She had expressed
puzzlement as to why David and Fox weren't more concerned, but had let it slide.

     "Alex, put that down."  Fox chided.  Alex looked at her in annoyance.
     "No."  he stated.  Another block joined it's companion three inches above
the floor.
     Tanner shrugged.  "You see?  Even though he has some...abilities...that
can't be explained by medical science, he's still a normal baby.  And that means
that around his age, he's going to recognize that the word 'no' means not having
fun.  He doesn't care what rules are set.  He wants to do what he wants to do.
And whenever limits are put on his behavior, he responds by having tantrums.
Simply put, your son is going through the Terrible Twos.  Nothing more."
     Fox groaned.  "Great.  So we've got another year of this, is that what
you're saying?"
     Tanner shrugged sympathetically.  Fox sighed.  Alex had had a very bad day,
today.  David had been in meetings with Barrick, Inc. all day, and she had had
to go downtown for a while.  Owen had had other matters to attend to, and the
daycare staff had taken the day off sick, so she had taken Alex with her.  And
while they were at the Strickland Building, Alex, who had been placed in the
building's daycare while Fox discussed business, had had a hissy fit.
Apparently, one of the other children had had the audacity to ask for a toy Alex
had been using, and Alexander Fox Xanatos had freaked.  He had kicked, he had
screamed, he had yelled, he had bit, he had punched...and then, the toys had
begun to float around the room.  Fox had come down just in time before Alex
decided to turn his competitor into a frog, or something...and when Fox had
picked him up, shook her finger in his face, and told him no, that's being a
very bad boy, she had almost seen a primal glint of hate in Alex's eyes.  An
expression that would have said something along the lines of "you're wrecking my
fun, Mommy, and I don't like that."  She had managed to convince the daycare
people that the toys hadn't really been floating across the room, and then she
had left.  As soon as Dr. Tanner had arrived, Fox had marched Alex down, and
quite politely asked if her son had somehow gotten rabies, because he sure as
hell was acting like it.
     Alex sighed, and the blocks fell to the floor.  Tanner ignored this, and
looked at Fox.  "You just have to ride it out.  But don't give into his demands.
He still needs rigid limits.  You can be flexible, but don't cave in."
     Fox sighed.  "All right.  Thanks for your help."

********************************************************************************
***

The Rockaway Nightclub
7:23 p.m., EST

     The bar was practically empty.  In fact, the only ones in the whole place
were Gomez and Izzy, who were busily getting things ready for that night's
festivities.  Brooklyn suspected that they would most probably be there all day
tomorrow, getting things set up for the big Hallowe'en bash.
     He and Carbonear walked down into the empty Meat Market, and headed down
the stairs.  Whitbourne was waiting on the roof for Delilah to show up.
     Brooklyn and Carbonear got to the bar, where Gomez was putting some change
in the till.  The owner of the club looked up, and nodded.
     "Hello."  he stated.  Brooklyn and Carbonear replied the same.
     "Getting ready for tomorrow night?"  Brooklyn asked.
     "No.  We have everything ready for tomorrow night."  Isadore Thomas, the
card shark, replied.  He was twisting a barstool that someone had knocked off
last night back on.  "In fact, we've even got a special musical guest lined up."
     "Who's that, my son?"  Carbonear replied.
     "Kim Stockwood."  Gomez replied.  "Another frigging Newf."
     Carbonear grinned.  "She don't talk anything like us, bye.  She sounds like
a regular person..well, a normal Maritimer, anyways.  So she's still got an
accent, I guess."
     Izzy looked at Carbonear.  "She and I are good friends.  I went to
Newfoundland last year for a vacation, and I met her at a club in St. John's.
The Blarneystone.  She's in New York getting a record promotion done, so I
called her up and asked her if she wanted to come play here."
     "That's great, then."  Brooklyn sighed.  He set an elbow on the bar, and
smiled.  "So what are you dressing up as, Gomez?"
     Gomez looked up, and gave a small smile.  "You'll see."
     Carbonear raised an eye ridge, and glanced at Brooklyn.  "Another secret
costume."  she grinned.
     Gomez wiggled his eyebrows, and reached back to the bar.  He grabbed a
beer, popped the cap off, and slid it over to Izzy.  Izzy took a drink, and
muttered his thanks.
     "Can I have one?"  Brooklyn asked.
     "Sure.  If you've got money."
     Brooklyn frowned.  "Nah.  I'm saving up all the money I've got for tomorrow
night."
     "Oh, for frigg's sakes, bye."  Carbonear groaned.  She fished into her
pocket and grabbed a five dollar bill.  "Here.  It's on me."
     Gomez shrugged, and grabbed a bottle of Molson.  Just as Brooklyn was about
to take it, Carbonear grabbed it first, and took a drink.  She set it down, and
sighed.
     "You're welcome."  Brooklyn muttered, with a smile.
     "Look, my son, I paid for the friggin' thing.  The least ye can do is give
me a drink."
     Izzy smiled, and walked into the games room.  Brooklyn hopped up onto a bar
stool.  Carbonear looked curiously at Izzy for a second, and hopped up besides
Brooklyn.
     "You two just stick around here, okay?  I have to go to the office for a
while."  Gomez stated.  He turned, and headed towards the office.
     Brooklyn and Carbonear nodded.  "I thinks this place'll be rockin'
tomorrow."  Carbonear grinned.
     "Will it ever."  Brooklyn replied.
     Carbonear took another drink of Brooklyn's beer, and frowned.  "Brooklyn,
my son, I thinks we needs to talk."
     "Talk about what?"  Brooklyn asked.  He turned around on the bar stool, and
sat facing away from the wall, his elbows behind him on the bar.
     "Well...about us."  Carbonear sighed.
     Brooklyn swallowed.  Here it came.  Last night, during the patrol with
Broadway, he had decided he would take the chance.  He would try and speed up
the relationship.  He had steeled himself up to talk to Carbonear about it last
night, but patrol had taken longer than expected, and by the time he got back,
he had been exhausted.  He had spent the whole rest of the night lounging in the
projection room, watching a movie with Whitbourne and Lexington, too tired to
think about trying to deepen any relationships.
     He frowned, trying to remember the conversation he and Broadway had had
last night.  Brooklyn recalled his rookery brother's advice; don't let her slip
away, let her know how you feel.
     I hope I can, he thought.
     Brooklyn took his beer, and began to fiddle with the bottle.  "What about
us?" he asked, intending to let her make the first move.  His stomach felt like
it was full to the brim with butterflies, and his tail was flicking nervously.
     "You know, maybe we should step off somewhere more private.  This place is
after gettin' full, soon." Carbonear noted, as a couple of people walked in the
front door.
     "You're right."  Brooklyn stated, relieved that he was off the hook, albeit
temporarily.  "You want to go to the jetty, or up on the roof, or what?"
     "Let's go up."  Carbonear stated.  She stood up, and Brooklyn did the same.
They headed for the stairs, and started up for the roof.

********************************************************************************
***

     Delilah landed with a swoop, and Whitbourne walked up to her and kissed
her.
     "Hey, me girl!" he greeted warmly.  "How's ye tonight?"
     "Fine, I guess."  Delilah replied.  She gave him a warm embrace.  "What're
you at?"
     "Not too much, I guess.  Waitin' for ye.  The nerve of ye, keepin' me
waitin' when there's drink to be had down below."  Whitbourne grinned.  "C'mon.
I brought my wallet; I'll buy ye a drink."
     Delilah nodded, and the two proceeded down the stairs.  Along the way, they
passed Brooklyn and Carbonear, who waved hello as they walked by.
     "All ready for tomorrow night?"  Whitbourne asked innocently.
     Delilah chuckled.  "I've been sneaking eggs for weeks.  I've got a
stockpile that'd make you proud."
     "Yeah, well, we gots to watch out.  I'se heard I'se gettin' frisked, so I
needs to think up a plan so I doesn't get caught with my gear."
     "We are checking in at the party at some time, though, right?"
     "Oh, sure!"  Whitbourne nodded.  "We'll stop in for a drink or two...and
then we'll egg the place."
     He stated that last part in a low whisper, but he needn't have worried.
The Rockaway was still empty; only two people were there, sitting at a table on
the lower level.  Frank Ester, the bartender, walked in from the back, and began
setting up the bar.
     Whitbourne and Delilah went down to the bar, and exchanged pleasantries
with Frank.  Whitbourne bought two Kahlua's, and the couple went and sat at a
table.  A couple of other people walked in.
     Whitbourne took a drink of his Kahlua, and looked at Delilah.  "Ye's all
right with the pranks, though, right?"
     "Sure am."  Delilah replied solemnly.  She took a drink, and grabbed
Whitbourne's hand.  "And you, you philanderer, are going to be getting your own
surprise."
     "Oh, man!  Frigg!  She's after bein' saucy, now!"  Whitbourne grinned.
     "You wait till tomorrow. Then you'll see saucy." Delilah smiled
salaciously.
     Whitbourne's eyes widened, and a slow, widening grin overtook his face.

********************************************************************************
***

Castle Wyvern
8:03 p.m., EST

     Alex had another temper tantrum as soon as the lesson ended.  This time, he
decided that he didn't want to stop, and that learning how to change one's shape
was actually fun.  After being forced to revert from a gargoyle appearence, he
began to scream shrilly and stomp his feet.
     "I want more!" he screeched.  Puck rolled his eyes.
     "You are cruising for a bruising, you little tyke."  the fae muttered.
"Fox was right...this is the Terrible Twos if ever I've seen them."
     Alex frowned, and looked at his crib.  It shimmered, and it suddenly became
a waterbed.  Puck snapped his fingers, and it it became a crib once more.

Alex's shriek of frustration echoed throughout the nursery, and his toys began
rapidly shapeshifting at impossible speeds.
     "Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!"  Puck yelled.  The toys stopped shifting.
Alex belligerently crossed his arms, as if daring Puck to do something about it.
     "Why can't you behave?"  Puck hissed.  He suddenly floated a good three
feet in the air, and pressed his little hands to his temples.  Alex stuck out
his tongue, and Gurg became a puppy dog.  Puck shot the canine an angry glance,
and it became a teddy-bear once more.
     "Alex, I don't know what I'm going to do.  Fun's fun, but I can't keep
giving you lessons if you're going to misbehave like this.  Every lesson for
months now, you've been acting up!  You want to have some fun for Hallowe'en,
don't you?"
     Alex nodded.  Puck floated over to the baby, and stared him in the eyes.
     "Well, if you don't be good, you'll be sitting home, watching 'The
Nightmare Before Christmas' again.  You don't want that; you want to go out and
play, don't you?"
     "Uh huh."  Alex stated shyly.
     "Well, then be good!  You just got back from the doctor's half an hour ago!
You can't start being a bad boy already!"
     "I wanna have FUN."  Alex sighed resignedly, crossing his arms and plopping
down.
     Puck grinned.  "Oh, you will.  If you're a good boy, I'll let you have some
fun tomorrow night.  In fact...I've already got one game planned."
     Puck made a grandiose wave, and pointed at the window.  The curtains
suddenly fluttered, and two luminous beams of light emerged from the floor.  The
light contracted, and took on color.  Soon, the images of two gargoyles were
standing there.
     "Who are they, Alex?"  Puck asked.
     Alex peered at the specters.  "Bruklin 'n' Cabineer." he stated proudly,
with absolute surety.
     "Good job!"  Puck beamed.  He looked at the images of Brooklyn and

Carbonear.  "That's who they are, all right.  But see, Carbonear's got a
problem."
     "What?"  Alex asked, captivated.  Even despite his temper tantrums of late,
he didn't like to see his friends with problems.  And it was clear to see that
Alexander liked the gargoyles very much.
     "Well, see, Carbonear likes Brooklyn.  Like Mommy and Daddy like each
other."  Puck stated, simplyfying his explanation.  "Carbonear wants to be like
Mommy and Daddy are...in love."
     "Uh huh."  Alex stated again.  He grinned.  "I saw Mommy kissin' Daddy."
He stated this fact in an excited low voice, as if it were a dirty secret that
he wasn't allowed to share.
     "That's what Carbonear wants.  Brooklyn wants it, too, but he doesn't
really know that for sure."
     "Don't know?"  Alex frowned, confused.
     "He doesn't know if he wants to kiss Carbonear."  Puck dumbed it down.
"He's not sure if he wants to be like Mommy and Daddy are."
     "So?"  Alex raised an eyebrow.
     I'm losing interest, Puck thought dispassionately.  Any second, and he's
going to get bored and have another tantrum...
     "So, tomorrow night, I'm going to teach you how to do this."  Puck bowed.
The images of Brooklyn and Carbonear suddenly locked in a tender, passionate
kiss...nothing too raunchy, the kid was only a year and a half old, for Oberon's
sake...but enough so that Alex understood what they were doing.  Alex's
attention came back, and he laughed with pleasure.
     "Wanna make 'em like Mommy and Daddy."  Alex grinned.  He clapped his
hands, ecstatic at being able to figure out what Puck wanted to do.
     "Well, not make 'em."  Puck clarified.  "More like, give them a little
push."
     Alex laughed.  "Push!"  he sang.  "Push, push, push, push, push..."
     Puck smirked.  "So whaddaya say, kiddo?  Are ya interested?"
     "Yup!"  Alex laughed again.  "Give 'em a push!"
     "And it'll be a romp, indeed."  Puck laughed right back.

********************************************************************************
***

The Rockaway Nightclub
8:08 p.m., EST

     "So Owen and I has been havin' a few discussions lately."  Carbonear began.
Brooklyn frowned; he knew that Carbonear and Owen got along, and had infrequent
private discussions in the smoke hole together, but he had no idea what they
were about.  Whitbourne and Bonavista, who didn't like Owen, often joked that
she was going turncoat.
     "What have you and Owen been talking about?"  he asked.
     "Us."  Carbonear stated.  "Us, as in you and me."
     Brooklyn blushed a little; the idea of being talked about by Owen Burnett
on more than one occasion sent an involuntary chill down his back.  "Okay..."
     "You'd be surprised.  The frigger's after telling me all this stuff about
waiting for ye, that he wants to see us get together..."  Carbonear smiled.
     Brooklyn's mouth twitched.  Carbonear shot him a funny look.
     "Anyways, I wants to tell ye...that if I'se been acting a little weird
around ye, it's just that lately, I'se been thinkin' that we should be after
gettin' togther."
     Brooklyn nodded; this was nothing new to him.  "You haven't been acting
weird at all, Carb."  he stated.  The nerve he had been quietly building to let
her know how he really felt was slipping away like sand through an hourglass.
     "Yes, I has.  I'se been acting a little more distant around ye lately...I
doesn't know if ye noticed, or not, but I is...and I guess I was a little mad at
ye that after a year we's known each other, we's still not together."
     "Carbonear..."  Brooklyn began, but she silenced him by raising a finger.
     "But I'se not willin' to jeopardize our friendship, neither.  So I'se gonna
start waiting again, and I'll let ye make the move.  You knows how I feels, so
I'm leaving it up to ye."

     Gee, thanks, Brooklyn thought.  He sighed.
     "Well, then."  he began.  "I was starting to think you were getting ticked
off at me because I was moving so slow."
     Carbonear chuckled.  "Of course not, bye.  Ye can't help how ye
feels...didn't I tell you that once?"
     "I really am sorry I'm taking so long."  Brooklyn frowned.  "But I guess

I'm just nervous, that's all."
     He moved a little closer, swallowing, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
His tail was flicking from side to side again.  Brooklyn sighed.  He decided
that he would try now.
     "So you're still waiting."  he began.  Carbonear nodded.
     "It's what my heart's after tellin' me to do."  she stated quietly.  "I
knows it's true love if I'se willin' to wait a whole year for ye..."
     "Carbonear, there's something I want to tell you."  Brooklyn blurted out.
His stomach did a backflip, and he considered just running for the edge of the
roof and gliding away as fast as he could.  But he forced himself to keep on
going.

     Look at yourself, you big tool, he thought.  It's not that hard.  You tell
her that she doesn't have to wait anymore, you tell her that you're in love with
her, and then you kiss her.  It's the easiest, most natural thing in the world,
and you're acting like you're about to go head to head with a crew of six
thousand Vikings.  Get a hold of yourself, for Christ's sake.
     But the thing was, it wasn't the most natural, easiest thing in the world.
He felt blocked off, he knew he wasn't going to be able to get the words out, he
was going to mess up...
     "What's that?"  Carbonear asked.
     A million excuses flew crazily through Brooklyn's mind.  I wanted to tell
you I love you, he thought of saying.  I wanted to tell you I just remembered I
left the TV on.  I wanted to tell you your zipper's down.  I wanted to...
     "I wanted to tell you...something I've wanted to say for a while now, but
couldn't work up the nerve to do."  Brooklyn stated.
     Good.  Stall.  Way to go, his mind applauded sarcatically.
     "Brooklyn, spit it out, my son.  What does ye want to say?"  Carbonear
asked.  A faint trace of a smile was playing upon her lips.
     You don't have to say a word.  You could just sweep her off her feet, and
kiss her, Brooklyn thought.  That'd get the message across pretty quick.
     But he did no such thing.
     Instead, he looked bashfully at his feet, and groaned.  "I wanted to tell
you...I'm really glad you're my friend."  he stated.
     And he STRIKES OUT!  he thought.  Brooklyn strikes out!  This game's over,
folks, and Brooklyn's career in love is pretty much over...
     "Well, thanks."  Carbonear smiled.  "Ye tells me that all the time,
though."
     "Well, uh...I just thought you should know."  he frowned.  He began to
mentally kick himself.
     "I already did.  But thanks anyways."  she stated.  "So, I just thought I'd
let ye know.  Owen told me that I should do whatever my heart's after tellin' me
to do, and that's waiting.  Whenever ye's ready, my son...let me know, and I'll
be there with open arms.  But I'll wait till ye's ready."
     "Okay."  Brooklyn replied.  Real intelligent response, he chided himself.
     Carbonear hesitantly leaned up, and gave Brooklyn a small peck on the

cheek.  Brooklyn felt his heart skip a beat, and he heard a voice in his
mind...not his own, this time, but Hawthorne's.  Go for it!  came the voice.  Do
it, Brooklyn!
     To his credit, he almost did.  He came within a heartbeat of reaching up
his talons, gently taking Carbonear's face in his hands, and drawing her lips to
his.  But suddenly, the butterflies in his stomach revolted, and he stopped his
halfhearted attempt before his hands even rose three inches.
     Carbonear parted, and headed towards the stairs.  Brooklyn stayed in the
exact spot where he was, not moving, simply lost in a feeling of disappointment
and bewilderment.
     She turned around as soon as she noticed he wasn't following.  "Is ye
comin'?"  she asked.
     "Uh, yeah.  I'll be down in a second.  Save me a seat."  Brooklyn replied.
Carbonear nodded, and grinned wickedly.
     "Right next to Ramona and Sasha's table, I gots ye."  she grinned.
Brooklyn smiled, and Carbonear turned again.  She looked relieved...as if
something that had been bothering her for the last while was resolved, in a
manner of speaking.
     Brooklyn waited until the door into the club swung closed, and then he
began to swear.
     He kicked a pebble across the roof.  "Merde!"  he yelled.  "I had a perfect
oppurtunity, and I let it slip right through my fingers!"
     He sighed miserably, and crossed his arms sullenly.  "I'm such a brainless
tit."  he muttered, closing his eyes.  "I finally realize I might be in love
with her, and I blow it."
     He stood out there for a few minutes more, staring out at the lights of
Greenwich Village all around him.  He muttered something under his breath, and
began to drum his talons on the side of the ledge.
     Tomorrow night, he thought, with absolute determination.  Tomorrow night,
I'll tell her. I'll ask her to dance, and right in the middle, I'll tell her.
That way, I'll have all of tonight to build up my courage, and I won't worry
about chickening out.
     He laughed hollowly.  "Who're you trying to kid?"  he asked himself.
     He spun around, and walked towards the door.

********************************************************************************
********************************************************************************
********************************************************************************
*********

Chapter Two

          All Hallow's Eve

Greenwich Apartment Complex
October 31, 1997
7:15 a.m., EST

     The door opened, and Kennedy Woodworth stepped out of her new apartment.
She took a deep breath, turned around, and locked the door.  Making sure the
keys were in her pocket, she hoisted her kitbag on her shoulders and checked her
watch.  Quarter after seven.  Shawn and Laine would be parked out front, if they
got the address right.
     She went downstairs, waving hello as a few of the neighbours she had gone
to meet the day before passed by.  Elisa Maza was one of them, and the detective
gave a friendly wave as Kennedy walked past.
     The college student walked outside, and her eyes came upon a mid-sized
green car.  Kennedy smiled, and walked towards it.  She opened the door, and sat
in the back seat.
     "Hey, Ken!"  the two people in the front greeted.
     Kennedy grinned.  "Hey, Shawn!  Hey, Lainey-bug!  All ready for the meeting
after chemistry class?"
     Laine McKinnon, the girl in the shotgun seat, brushed back her long blond
hair, and smiled.  "I'm always ready for an emergency meeting of the High-Five
Super Sailors Club."  she stated solemnly.  Shawn Mercer, the thin, black-haired
guy who was driving, sighed as he pulled out into the northbound traffic lane.
     "What was that for?"  Laine asked him.
     "You and your Super Sailors."  Shawn stated, turning on the blinkers as he
headed northward for Columbia University.  "I bet that if I went and watched you
at your first regatta this spring, you'd turtle the frigging boat."
     Kennedy burst out laughing.  "Of course we would.  At least, Laine and I
would.  It'd be all Laine's fault, too."
     "Look, Ken, don't be so jealous."  Laine laughed.  She poked Shawn
playfully in the shoulder, who tickled her in return.  "Just cause I'm the best
crew in the Super Sailors..."
     "I don't care about crews, I'm the damn skipper."  Kennedy shot back.
Kennedy and Laine were two members of the Sailing Club at Columbia University.
Kennedy had been sailing in sailboats all her life...always Lasers, never any of
those Catamaran pieces of crap...and had introduced Laine to the sport.  In
fact, she and Laine had recruited three of the other top female sailors in the
club into a little clique which was now jokingly referred to as the High-Five
Super Sailors Club.  Shawn Mercer, Laine's boyfriend, couldn't stand sailing.
The one time he had tried it, he had been knocked overboard when the boom
switched sides.  He stuck to his one and only sporting love...freestyle skiing.
In fact, he was damn good at it.  His coach had sucessfully managed to get Shawn
into the tryouts for the 1998 World's Cup team.  Shawn put up with Laine and
Kennedy's prattling about the Sailing Club, as long as he could throw in a few
comments about the moguls.
     Shawn looked at the rearview.  "So, Ken, what's the new apartment like?" he
asked.
     "It's great!"  Kennedy beamed.  "It's really big, and it's got a wicked
view of the Village.  I can't believe I got the rent so low.  It's a little far
from school, but it's worth it.  Besides, it's great being away from home.
Third-year university and living at home doesn't seem quite right.  And I'm
allergic to the carpeting they have in the residences.  Besides...my twin
brother Kerry's home for a few months, and things get wild and crazy at my house
when we get together.  I'm inviting him up for a couple of days later.  Of
course, tonight's the big night..."
     "Uh huh.  There's a party at Jeremy Cole's place tonight..."  Laine loked
at Shawn.  Shawn shook his head emphatically.
     "Jeremy's a worthless tool."  he stated.  "Ken, weren't you saying
something about a party at a club down around here last night on the phone?"
     "Yeah.  There's a club down the street called the Rockaway, and I thought I
might go."
     "Isn't that the place were you and Joel went to this summer, and you saw
those gargoyle things clubbing around?"  Laine asked.
     "Uh huh."  Kennedy nodded.  "That's part of the reason I want to go.  I saw
a couple of them this summer.  A couple of them were kind of cute.  There was
one...a green one with blond hair and horns.  He had a weird accent, too."
     "Oh, oh, sounds' likes Ken's got a crush!"  Laine laughed.  Kennedy smacked
her in the back of the head.
     "Do you two want to come with me tonight?" Kennedy asked.
     Laine looked at Shawn pleadingly, who shrugged.
     "Why not?"  Shawn asked.  He brought the car to a stop at an intersection,
where the light had just turned red.  "I've heard good things about that place,
too."
     "The Rockaway it is, then."  Kennedy nodded.  "Crap, Shawn, could you hurry
it up?  I've got a lab in forty-five minutes!"
     "You chemistry majors.  Always in a rush."  Shawn smiled nastily, as the
car began moving again.  "A chemist/Super Sailor is not a good combination."
     Laine shot him a warning glance, and he grinned.

********************************************************************************
***

Castle Wyvern
6:55 p.m., EST

     Elisa Maza stood at the edge of the parapets.  She looked at the statue of
Goliath, walked over to it, and put her hand lovingly on his massive shoulder.
Ever since the two of them had practically become mates in June, since they had
both promised their lives to each other after the act of passion in the Xanadu
hot tub, they had spent most of their spare time together.  A lot of work time,
as well.  Tonight, Goliath was going to assist her on prank patrol while the
rest of the clan...excepting Whitbourne...went to the Hallowe'en party at the
Rockaway.  Elisa grinned...a little more time with her best friend turned lover
couldn't hurt.  The last five months had been absolutely divine.
     However, first, there was a little job to do, first.
     Once again, the golden disk of the sun slipped below the horizon, and there
was a cracking of stone.  Then, with a cry that sounded like a roar but was
really just as much a yawn, the gargoyles awoke.  Whitbourne cried out
excitedly, and then noticed Elisa standing there, arms crossed.  His smile died
on his face.
     "I guess ye's here to check me out, huh."  he muttered.
     "You betcha."  Elisa nodded.  "I couldn't help but notice you turned to
stone with a kitbag on your shoulder.  Open it up, Witless."
     Whitbourne, to the smiles of the others, opened the backpack grudgingly.
Elisa began to root through it.
     "Carton of eggs...two bars of soap...roll of toilet paper...more
eggs...planning on having a busy night, were we?"  Elisa asked.  Whitboune
stared at his feet.  Goliath shot him an unimpressed look, and moved to stand
next to Elisa.
     "I was just after wantin' some fun."  Whitbourne muttered.  Elisa smiled.
     "Well, you'll have to do it without eggs and stuff.  Sorry."  she stated.
Whitbourne muttered something under his breath, and stomped angrily into the
castle.  Elisa slung the kitbag onto her shoulder, and watched as everyone else
walked into the castle to get ready for the party.  There was a sudden rush of
air as she was swept into Goliath's wings, and she giggled.
     "I missed you, my sweet Elisa."  he stated in a low voice.  He leaned down,
and kissed her tenderly on the lips.  Elisa reached up, and wrapped her arms
around his neck.
     "I missed you, too."  Elisa replied.  "I miss you every time the sun
rises."
     "You know I'll always be there when it sets." he retorted amusedly.  He
sighed.  "So we shall be watching for...?"
     "For kids in the mood for throwing eggs.  You don't have to come if you
don't want to..."

     "Elisa, why would I not want to spend any more time with you?"  Goliath
asked.  "Besides, I don't want to go to the party.  I don't think I would feel
quite comfortable in this...Rockaway."
     "I've been there a couple of time with the others.  I can't believe how
gargoyle friendly it is.  You'd love it there."
     Goliath nodded.  "Perhaps I'll check it out some other night.  But for
now..."
     "For now, let's go out and do that prank patrol thing."  Elisa grinned.
"C'mon, big guy, let's go bust some egg-chuckers."
     Goliath smiled widely, and took Elisa in his arms.  He leapt off the
parapet, and Elisa snuggled deeply into his arms as the wind whistled by and the
sky darkened above.


********************************************************************************
***

     "Oh, for Christ's sake."  Broadway sighed.  "He's dressing up as a
fisherman."
     "What the hell was that Nobby O'Toole crap?"  Lexington asked, pulling on a
pair of blue jeans.
     Brooklyn grinned as he buttoned up the plaid shirt.  "Byes, meet Nobby
O'Toole!"  he smiled.
     "Don't be after talkin' like a Newfoundlander all night, my son, or ye's
gonna put the Rockaway off Newfs altogether."  Bonavista chuckled.  He was
pulling on a white lab coat, and wrapping masking tape on a pair of glasses,
which had the lenses removed.  Hudson muttered something under his breath as he
buttoned up a pair of dress pants.
     The five gargoyles were in the smoke hole, getting ready for the party.

Lexington was dressing up as a cattle rustler, complete with black bandanna
around his neck and everything.  Broadway, meanwhile had managed to get on a
frumpy, oversized pull on skirt, and was putting on a woman's coat over it.
Brooklyn was halfway into his costume...he had on the shirt and the plastic
fisherman's pants, and was now trying to get Xanatos' yellow plastic rainhat to
stay on his head.  Bonavista was going out as a mad scientist, and Hudson was
dressing as the Phantom of the Opera.  He was disappointed that Maria Chavez
wasn't going to be at the party...the two were great friends, and Hudson made it

a point to visit her at least once a week.
     Hudson tied on the cape, and modelled for the others.  "How do I look,
lads?"  he asked.  Lexington put two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly.
     Bonavista chuckled, and sighed.  "I has to go get me hair done, I guess."
he stated.  Hudson left as well...his mask was in Xanatos' office, since the
billionaire had one in his collection that looked like the Phantom mask, and had
made a plaster copy.
     Once they left, Brooklyn, Broadway and Lexington continued putting their
costumes on.
     "Why didn't you just tell us you were dressing up as a fisherman?"
Lexington asked.
     "Cause there's some things I like to keep to myself."  Brooklyn replied.
He took the hat off, and poked two holes in the brim with his talons for his
horns.  He looked up at them.  "I'm going to do it tonight."
     "Do what tonight?"  Broadway asked, but then Whitbourne opened the door to
the smoke hole.  He frowned when he saw them, and shut the door.  Putting a
talon to his lips, he indicated silence as he crept to the corner.  He rooted
through a pile of clothes, and pulled out a kitbag.
     "You had a dummy pack."  Broadway smirked.
     Whitbourne nodded, and opened the kitbag to show at least ten cartons of
eggs, as well as some soap, toilet paper, a couple of potatos and some baloney.
"Delilah's got another satchel full of stuff, too.  And I swears to frigg, byes,
if ye breathes a word of this to Hudson, Goliath or Elisa, I'll shove this egg
right up your arse so far ye won't be sittin' down for a week."  he growled,
closing the kitbag.  Brooklyn, Broadway and Lexington all smirked, and nodded.
Whitbourne raised his eye ridges conspiratorially, and left.
     "What an idiot."  Broadway laughed.
     "So what were you saying, Brooklyn?"  Lexington asked, pulling on a cowboy
hat.
     Brooklyn sighed.  "I'm going to make my move on Carbonear tonight."
     Lexington and Broadway loked at each other, and grinned.  "I figured it
wouldn't be much longer.  All this summer, the way you've been acting around
her, it was just a question of when." Lexington smiled knowingly.
     Brooklyn frowned.  "Well, tonight I am going to do it.  Really, I am.  In
the middle of the party, I'm going to ask her to dance, and during that, I'll
tell her how I feel.  Don't tell her before then, though...I want it to be a
surprise."
     "Good job, buddy!"  Broadway clapped him on the back.  He looked rather
ridiculous, doing that while wearing women's clothing, but Brooklyn didn't say
anything.  Instead, he stuffed the rainhat on his head, and smiled.

     "How do I look?"  Brooklyn asked.
     "Like an idiot."  Lexington grinned.  Brooklyn bowed.
     "That's just the way I wants it."  'Nobby O'Toole' stated with a smile.


********************************************************************************
***

     "OW!  Jesus Christ, me girl, what the hell is ye tryin' to do?  Pull me
hair out from the roots?"  Bonavista shrieked.  He looked up painfully at
Angela, who muttered something, pulled out the comb, and sprayed a bit more of
Fox's hair spray into his hair.  His blond locks were now stuck out crazily all
over his head, and he looked in the mirror, and grinned.  "Good job, though."
     "Great.  Go tell Broadway that we's ready with the make-up whenever he is,
and that I'll be out in a sec to put it on him."  Angela commanded.  Bonavista,
who looked a great deal like a mad scientist with his hair done, grinned and
left the bathroom.
     Angela looked down at her outfit.  She was dressed up as a female vampire.
A little bit of Fox's eye liner...which was now half gone after the three female
gargoyles had gotten into it...gave the impressions of shadows under her eyes,
and a little spray-on hair dye gave a thin streak of silver to her otherwise
ebon hair.  Ophelia was dressed as an old western sheriff, the companion costume
to Lex's cattle rustler outfit.  The ten-gallon hat she wore had a hole cut in
the front for her horn plate to fit through, and her coppery red hair was tied
back behind her.  Carbonear was dressed extravangently, as a rich snob.  She
wore a thin, black sleeveless gown, a puffy white stole, and a wide brimmed red
hat and sunglasses.  The make up was piled onto her...Ophelia had joked that
Carbonear's lipstick was so thick it was a miracle you could make out what she
said.
     She was finishing up her mascara, at the moment...even she, who wore a
sparing amount of makeup most of the time, was amazed at the layers of cosmetics
she was wearing.  "All ready for the big party tonight, girls?" she asked.
     "Yup."  Ophelia nodded, fixing up the gold star on the front of her vest.
She looked at herself in the mirror, and chuckled.  "Angela, what do you think
Gabriel and the Princess would be saying if they saw us now?"
     "I think they'd look at us as if we were insane."  Angela replied.  She
gathered up Fox's makeup kit, and headed for the door.  "I'm off to doll up Mrs.
Enid."  she stated.  Carbonear grinned, and tossed her the mascara.
     After she had left, Carbonear looked at Ophelia, and did a little twirl.
     "Nice costume."  Ophelia stated.
     "Same back to ye."  Carbonear replied.  "So is ye and Lex gonna be with
each other tonight?"
     "Uh huh."  Ophelia nodded.  "As long as I can keep him away from Ramona and
Sasha, he'll keep Austin at bay.  We have a little deal going."
     "Brooklyn was after tellin' me he's got something to tell me later."
Carbonear stated, taking off the sunglasses.  "Something big."
     Ophelia looked at Carbonear, and frowned.  "Carb, I hate to say it, but
maybe you shouldn't get your hopes up."
     Carbonear blinked.  "No, I'se not expectin' him to come right out and tell
me he loves me...but still, stranger things has happened, right?  Ye never
knows, me girl, it might be possible."
     Ophelia sighed.  A little smile was on Carbonear's face, and Ophelia knew
Carbonear thought it was more than possible.  She felt a little twinge of
sympathy...she had been the first one Carbonear had confided to about her
attraction for Brooklyn, a year ago.  Then, Carbonear had been resigned to the
thought that Brooklyn was far out of her reach.  Now, she was incredibly
hopeful, a result of her chat with Owen two nights ago.  Before that, Carbonear
had been depressed; after, she had been cheerful, and Ophelia had wormed an
explanation out of her.  She only hoped that Carbonear wasn't setting herself up
for another fall.
     Carbonear made a half turn, and stared at herself in the mirror.  "I'd say
I'se ready."  she stated, playing with her hair. She walked for the door.  "See
ye soon, Ophelia.  I'se off to check with Nobby."
     She waved, and left the bathroom.  Ophelia watched her go, and frowned.

********************************************************************************
***

     Twenty minutes later, the gargoyles that were going to the party all met on
the outer parapets.  Everyone burst out laughing at the sight of Broadway...he
was in character even before they arrived at the Rockaway.
     "Hudson, my darling!"  he cried, hobbling over to him in an awkward
impression of an elderly lady's shuffle and speaking in a high-pitched falsetto.
"I haven't seen you since you were a fart in a mitt!  Give your old Aunt Enid a
kiss, love!"
     "Get away from me, lad, or you'll find that purse you're carrying in a much
less becoming place."  Hudson growled.  There was laughter, and Broadway took a
bow.
     Brooklyn muttered something under his breath, and grinned.  He inched
towards Carbonear, looking slightly preoccupied.  Carbonear noticed, and
frowned.
     "Here, there, buddy, I'll give ye a hand."  Bonavista stated, walking over
to Lexington.  "I doesn't suppose ye wants to mess up your costume by takin' it

off so ye can glide."
     "Would you give me a lift?"  Lexington asked.  "I don't want to be a
bother, but..."
     "Ain't no trouble at all, my son!"  Bonavista smiled.  He picked up
Lexington, and frowned.  "Ye's gettin' fatter."
     "I am not!"  Lexington cried.  Ophelia cracked a smile.
     Brooklyn's discomforted expression vanished.  "Let's go, byes!"  he cried.
"I'm in the mood to party!"
     "Right friggin' on!"  Bonavista called back.  Carbonear rolled her eyes,
and grinned.
     "Stuck with a bunch of retards tonight, girls."  she stated, putting on her

sunglasses.
     "You can say that again."  Angela muttered, looking at Broadway.
     "Is that any way to treat an old lady?"  Broadway demanded, his hands on
his hips.
     "Oh, shut up."  Angela laughed.

********************************************************************************
***

     In the castle, Owen Burnett watched from the window.  Eight figures soared
overhead, heading southward towards Greenwich Village.  A mischevious smile
crossed his lips, and as it did, he metamorphosed into Puck.  The fae did a back
flip in the air, and twirled about merrily.
     "Married women, small children, and puppy dogs beware!" he cried with glee.
"The tricksters are going out on the town!"
     Alexander, looking up from the floor where he was busily playing with Gurg,
looked up.  "Hal-ween!" he cried impatiently.
     "Yes, kid, it's Hallowe'en!"  Puck grinned.  "And we're all set, aren't we?
Nice costume, by the way."
     Alexander was dressed in a Mighty Morphin Power Ranger costume, the one he
had insited he was going to wear.  However, Fox and Xanatos had no idea that
their pride and joy wouldn't be seen in it.  They had gone to the Xanatos
Enterprises party, downstairs in the Eyrie.  They had no clue that their son and
his fae babysitter were not going to the daycare for the children's party, but
were actually going to a Greenwich Village bar.  Puck was glad; he suspected
that if Fox had known, she would have ripped his head off, Child of Oberon or
no.
     Alex laughed gleefully.  Puck's eyebrows raised, and he frowned.
     "You, you little scamp, are behaving, though.  I'm not above a little
trickery, but one tantrum and you're coming right home."  he warned.  Alex gave
him a pained glance, and nodded.
     "Am I getting through to that pre-toddler head of yours?  No tantrums."
Puck repeated.  Alex nodded again, exasperatedly.
     "Good."  Puck stated.  He grinned.  "Now, before we get to the big event,
we've got a couple of little smaller things to do, first.  How about we..."

********************************************************************************
***

The Rockaway Nightclub
7:56 p.m., EST

     The joint was jumping.
     The atmosphere was very seasonal.  Hallowe'en decorations were up all over
the place, and everyone in the building was dressed up.  Kim Stockwood, the
night's musical guest, wasn't playing yet; instead, the clubs sound system was
playing some music.  Right now that kitchy 'Monster Mash' song was playing, and
the bar's denizens were dancing around.  Up on the Meat Market, a tub full of
apples was set up, and people were lined up in two lines...one guys, one
girls...bobbing for apples.  Rockaway style.  A guy and a girl would bob at the
same time, and would deliberately try to catch the same apple.  However, usually
they didn't catch apples, but some French kisses instead.
     The costumed gargoyles stepped out to the Meat Market, and were lost in the
noise.  However, they began to instantly enjoy themselves.
     "Look who's here!"  somebody called.  The gargoyles turned around, and
smiled.  There were two girls standing there, each holding drinks.  One was a
tall auburn haired one, dressed in black leather and sporting a riding crop on
her belt...she had long ago told everyone she was dressing up as a dominatrix
for Hallowe'en.  The other was a very prettty black girl, dressed up in a
costume similar to Angela's, yet much slinkier.
     "Oh, my God, it's Sasha and Ramona!"  Brooklyn grinned, walking over.  He
raised an eye ridge at Ramona's costume.  Ramona noticed that and smiled, but
she unhooked the riding crop and walked over to Bonavista.
     "Hey, Bonnie.  Nice costume."  Ramona grinned.
     "Hey, me girl!"  Bonavista grinned, eyeing the riding crop nervously.
"How's my favorite skank?"
     Sasha burst out laughing.  "Don't get mean, Bonnie.  We're just saying
hello."
     Ramona inched closer to Bonavista, and gave him a friendly swat on the rear
end with the crop.  "Don't be bad, you little Canucklehead, or I just might have
to discipline you."
     "Me girl, ye doesn't want to do that."  Carbonear stated, walking over to
Ramona.  "Ye has to know, Bonnie's kind of a sicko.  We mentioned discipline
once back when we was in Newfoundland, and..." she leaned forward, and whispered
something in Ramona's ear.  Ramona's cheeks blasted to pink, and she looked at
Bonavista incredulously.
     "Oh, my God!  What a pervert!" she grinned.  "Did that really happen?"
     "Honest to God's truth."  Carbonear grinned.  "In fact, I gots a bunch of
Bonnie stories ye might like to hear..."
     "Carb!"  Bonavista protested, and he watched in horror as Sasha, Ramona and
Carbonear walked over to a table and sat down.  He tried to follow, but Brooklyn
blocked his way.
     "Bonavista!  You sick pig!"  Ramona called over from the table.  Bonavista
looked on helplessly as she, Carbonear and Sasha burst into gales of helpless
laughter.
     Brooklyn smiled nastily.  He looked over to Carbonear.  "Are you telling
that story about..." his voice fell into a whisper.  Carbonear nodded.  Brooklyn
stared in amazement at Bonavista, who grumbled something and went downstairs to
the bar.
     Brooklyn laughed, and walked over to the table.
     "He thinks we were really talking about him."  Sasha chuckled.  "Paranoid
fantasies all night, now."
     "So, are you two dancing later?"  Ramona conversationally asked Carbonear
and Brooklyn.  "You guys dressed really well.  Broadway...what a tard!  He looks
like my grandmother."
     "What are you supposed to be, Brook?"  Sasha asked.
     Carbonear grinned.  "Ramona, Sasha, meet Nobby O'Toole.  Buddy's a
trawlerman up in Harbour Grace, Newfoundland, but he came down here to party
with ye's."
     "Well, I'se the bye, girl, how's ye?"  Brooklyn grinned, shaking Ramona's
hand.
     "Nice to meet you, Nobby."  Ramona grinned.  "Why do they call you that?"
     "It's probably a below-the-belt thing."  Sasha stated casually.  Ramona and
Carbonear burst into more giggles, and Brooklyn's smile turned upside down.
     "Don't make fun of me."  he muttered.
     "Aw, Brook, ye's such a good sport."  Carbonear grinned, patting him on the
cheek.  She took off her hat and stole, and set her feet up comfortably on a
chair.  "Here, bye, go down and get us a Pugsley."
     "Will do."  Brooklyn stated.  He got up, and headed for the stairs.

     Carbonear watched him go.  Ramona took another sip of her beer.
     "You two seem pretty cosy around each other."  she stated.

     "Not as cosy as I'd like to be."  Carbonear muttered, her smile becoming
slightly strained.

********************************************************************************
***

     "Ready to go on?"  Gomez asked.  Kim Stockwood nodded, and frowned.
     "I couldn't help but notice that there's a couple of things that don't
quite look human out in the bar.  And there's no way those are costumes."  Kim
stated.  She had only the faintest trace of a Newfoundland accent, and Gomez
found himself slightly relieved.  The bouncer/emcee was dressed up as a vampire,

and Kim was dressed up as a nun.  She was a good Hallowe'en sport; she had even
managed to convince Izzy to dress up as a pilot.
     "Yeah.  The gargoyles.  They've been club regulars all summer."  Gomez
nodded.  "You don't have to worry; they're just here to party.  Think of them as
the oddest crowd you've ever played."
     "I wouldn't go that far."  A guitarist grinned.  The other members of the
band laughed.
     Kim smiled.  "The weirdest was at the East Coast Music Awards this
February.  I still remember Cookie Rankin flashing the Barra MacNeill's the
finger when I sang 'Jerk'."
     "Cookie Rankin!"  the guitarist laughed again.  "A Bretoner if ever I seen
one.  Her and Natalie MacMaster and Ashley MacIsaac was after causing a ruckus

in the reception..."
     Gomez smiled as the band began to reminisce about the ECMA's.  He looked at
his watch.
     "Anyway, I'll go and announce you."  he stated.  Kim and the band nodded,
and got up, picking up their instruments.  Gomez allowed a pause, and stepped
out from the curtain.  A hush fell over the bar's patrons, as they realized
something was about to happen.  Gomez saw two of the gargoyles...one dressed up
as an old lady, the other as the Phantom of the Opera...standing at the bar,
each with a shot of whiskey.
     "Ladies and gentlemen,"  Gomez began, pausing from dramatic effect,
"welcome to the Annual Rockaway Hallowe'en Extravaganza!"
     There was suddenly a huge cheer as the bars patron's began applauding.
Gomez waited till it had died down, and smiled.
     "Later on, we'll have the awards for Best Costume, and a few spooky
surprises."  he continued.  "But first, we have with us a special musical guest.
She was in New York negotiating a record deal with Sony, and good old Izzy
managed to convince her to drop in.  She's also told me that she wants to
dedicate her first number to our mutual friend, Isadore Thomas, and that she
hopes there won't be any hard feelings.  Ladies and gentlemen..."  he looked out
at the crowd, and his eyes fell upon Bonavista, heading for the bar.
     "Ladies and gentlemen, all the way from the rocking island of Newfoundland,
KIM...STOCKWOOD!" he finished.  There was loud applause.
     Bonavista whooped and cheered as Newfoundland was mentioned, but he was
drowned out by a wailing guitar riff.  The curtains opened, and the band was
suddenly visible.  Kim waved, at Izzy, who was standing by the door to the games
room, and began to sing.
       "Since you've been gone, I feel so much better, cause I saw how mean you
could be.  I used to want some explanation, now all I want is my Patsy Cline CD!
How I've waited for today, when I could finally say..."  Kim sang, looking at
Izzy.
     "You jerk!"  she grinned.
     "You jerk..."  the band echoed.
     "You are such a jerk!  There are other words, but they just don't work!
Jerk!"  she laughed, singing.  Izzy blushed, and grinned back, brushing his long
blond hair aside.  There was a round of applause.

********************************************************************************
***

     At a table near the stage, Shawn Mercer, Laine McKinnon and Kennedy
Woodworth watched, and laughed.  They were dressed up as well...Laine was
dressed up as a hippie, Kennedy was costumed as a hobo, and Shawn was
masquerading as a priest.
     "What did I tell you?"  Kennedy asked, tapping her fingers on the table
along to the song.  "Rocking joint, huh?"
     "Yeah." Shawn agreed.  He took a drink of his beer.  "Better that going to
that wet end Jeremy Cole's party, anyway."
     Laine looked around at two gargoyles, dressed up as cowboys, who were
dancing together.  "It's kind of weird, though.  I've seen at least four

gargoyles traipsing around the place in the last five minutes."
     "One of them saved you from a mugging last year."  Kennedy pointed out.
     "I know."  Laine frowned.  "I don't mind them being here, it's just odd
seeing gargoyles having free rein of a nightspot.  You'd think somebody would
mind, but everybody just sees they're here, and accepts them."
     "Look at that one."  Kennedy grinned, pointing at a green one dressed up as
a mad scientist.  "That's the one I was telling you about.  The one that's kind
of cute."
     Laine looked, and smiled.  "He's got a nice ass."  she agreed, grinning as
Shawn gave her a shocked glance.
     "So does that one."  Kennedy added, glancing at a red one dressed up as a
fisherman.  "But that green one...mmm-hmm!"
     Shawn frowned as Laine stared at the green one's behind.  "Would it help if
I dyed my skin green?"
     "Yeah.  That'd do it."  Laine grinned.  "You should go talk to him, Ken.
You aren't cut out for the single life."
     Kennedy shot her a pained glance, and sighed.  "Laine, what is it with you
and trying to set up matches?  I'd like to have a shot at a human guy, first.
Besides, I was just kidding."
     "But you still like his ass, though."
     Kennedy hesitated, and stared at the gargoyle, who was chugging down a
beer, and talking to a older gargoyle dressed as the Phantom of the Opera.
"Yeah, I do."  she grinned.
     She turned back to Laine and Shawn, and the subject was forgotten.

********************************************************************************
***

     "Sometimes I wish, I'd mailed you that letter, that said the things I dare
not say.  Sshh...
      Instead, I set the thing on fire,  I had to say this out loud anyway,
      I'm so glad I found the nerve to say what you deserve,
      You jerk, you jerk, you are such a jerk..."

     Brooklyn watched the singer on the stage, tapping his fingers, unaware that
his rear end was being briefly discussed by a couple of college girls.  The
truth was, had he known, he would not have cared.
     The party was rocking.  Bonavista and Hudson were drinking already, and
Broadway and Angela and Lexington and Ophelia were all out on the dance floor.
He smiled, and looked up towards the balcony where Carbonear, Ramona and Sasha
were waiting.
     Carbonear.  The thought of her name made Brooklyn's stomach do a little
flip.  He sighed, and began to run through the words he was planning to say to
her.
     Carbonear, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry I made you wait for
this, but...I love you, Brooklyn rehearsed.  He grimaced, and shook his head.
She might like a more romantic approach...
     Hawthorne's voice echoed throughout his mind again, laughing hollowly.
Just let it come naturally, she stated, bemusedly.  These things always work out
on their own.
     Brooklyn frowned, and sighed.  Carbonear, I just wanted to tell you you
look beautiful in that costume...
     "Here you go, skipper."  somebody stated.  Brooklyn spun around, and
relaxed when he saw Frank Ester, the bartender, standing there.  He was holding
a flaming Pugsley and a bottle of beer in his hands, smiling.  Frank had dressed
as a football player, a contrast from his usual bowling shirts.
     "Thanks."  Brooklyn replied, raising his voice to be heard above the noise.
He took the drinks, fished in the pocket of the plastic pants, and hauled out a
ten dollar bill.  Frank took the money, nodded, and gave Brooklyn back his
change.  Brooklyn nodded, and headed for the stairs.
     Along the way, he bumped into Tish, the hostess.  She was in costume as
well...she had dressed as Morticia Addams.
     "Takin' over my job, huh?"  she asked as she set down a drink at a nearby
table.  The people she was serving glared curiously at Brooklyn; not everyone in
the Rockaway's clientele was comfortable with the management's decision to allow
gargoyles free rein, but nobody complained.  The most that ever happened was
when a group of people walked out after seeing Whitbourne and Bonavista headed
to play darts in the games room, and the majority of people were accepting.
     "No."  Brooklyn grinned.  "I'm just taking these up to Carb."
     "Aha."  Tish grinned.  "You'd better ask her for a dance later."
     "I am."  Brooklyn stated.  If I can work up the nerve to, he thought.
     He continued his journey to the stairs.  Kim Stockwood finished the Jerk
song, and apologized to Izzy for insinuating he ws a jerk.  Izzy merely laughed,
and clapped heartily.  Brooklyn watched those events unfold, smiled, and walked
up the stairs to the Meat Market.
     Ramona, Sasha and Carbonear were laughing uproariously as Austin Grant, the
club's mimbo, got slapped in the face by a girl he had just hit on.  Brooklyn
walked over to the table, set the drinks down, and sat.  Carbonear blew out the
Pugsley, and took a drink.  The scent of burnt sugar wafted through the air.
Brooklyn took a drink of his beer, and settled back comfortably in the chair.
     "What does ye think of the band?"  Carbonear asked.  "Thanks for these, by

the way."
     "You're welcome."  Brooklyn grinned amusedly.  "She's pretty good."
     "Yeah."  Sasha agreed.  "I thought Izzy would have hit the roof when she
started calling him a jerk onstage, but I guess if it's all in fun..."
     Brooklyn nodded, and turned to the stage.  Out of the corner of his eye, he
noticed Carbonear glancing at him, with an unreadable expression on her face.
     Give me a second, he frowned, thinking.  Give me just a couple more
seconds, and I'll do it.
     He ran through the plan once more just to make sure he had it right.  He'd
ask her to dance; she'd accept.  They would go downstairs, and generally have a
good time for a while.  And then, after about an hour or so, he'd take the
plunge.  He would tell her that she didn't have to wait anymore; that he finally
realized that the two of them should be together, and that he was ready to tell
her he loved her.  Easy as falling off a bridge.
     Yet he suspected that it wouldn't be that simple.
     He turned his head back, and watched as Carbonear began tapping her talons
on the table in time to the music.  Even wearing a Hallowe'en costume, she was
incredibly attractive.  Not for the first time, Brooklyn wondered if he would be
better off to just lean down and kiss her, fully, on the lips.
     Would that be obvious enough? he thought, laughing hollowly.
     Carbonear noticed him staring, and blinked.  "What?"
     "Oh...nothing."  Brooklyn blinked, snapping back to reality.  He frowned.
"I just thought I saw Broadway over there."
     Carbonear looked and shruggged.  "I doesn't see him."  she reported.
     "I guess you were wrong."  Ramona muttered.  "C'mon, Sash, let's go to the
games room."
     Sasha nodded, and she and Ramona stood up.  "Bye."  they said in unison,
and they headed for the stairs.

     Carbonear watched them go.  "So how does ye like the party so far, my son?"
     "It's great."  Brooklyn replied.  He took another sip of beer.
     Might as well do it now, he thought, working up the bare minimum of
courage.
     He looked at Carbonear, who's head was lolling in time to the music.  Time
to bite the bullet, he thought.  I hope you know what I'm going through, Carb.
     "Carb?" he asked.  Carbonear turned around, a quizzical expression on her
face.
     "Do you..."  Brooklyn began.  He was suddenly afraid his tongue would lock
up in his throat.  It didn't, but Brooklyn suddenly felt a bead of sweat roll
down his face.
     "Does I what?"  Carbonear prompted.
     "Do you...want to...dance?"  Brooklyn asked.  He groaned inwardly...he
probably sounded like some pimple-faced seventh grader asking a girl twice his
size to dance.
     Carbonear didn't seem to mind.  "I'd love to."  she stated, grinning.  She
set her drink down, and stood up.  "C'mon, my son; let's go."
     Brooklyn grinned.  "Great." he stated, the nervousness suddenly gone from
his voice.  He stood up, and the two of them walked towards the stairs, headed
for the dance floor.
     Let the games begin, Brooklyn thought.

********************************************************************************
********************************************************************************
********************************************************************************
*********

Chapter Three

          The Tricksters And The Tricked

Queens
8:42 p.m., EST

     There was a loud cry from up above, and suddenly an egg fell from the sky.
It landed on the roof of a very expensive Corvette, and splattered all over the
place.  Whitbourne, who had dropped the egg, burst out laughing, and began to
swoop through the air.  Delilah watched, and chuckled patiently.
     "This is what Hallowe'en's after bein' about, me girl!" Whitbourne
hollered.  He pulled out another egg from his backpack, and whiffed it as hard
as he could at a window of a nearby office building.  The window cracked, the
egg splattered, and the laughing began again.
     The two of them had been on a vandalism spree.  While it was mostly random
eggings and potato stuffings, and the occasional fire in a dumpster, they had
only targeted one house deliberately.  That had been Anton Sevarius' mansion
over in Brooklyn Heights; Delilah had insisted upon it.  It had been the closest
to revenge she had gotten on him since the Bras d'Or incident half a year ago.
But it had been sweet.  Anton Sevarius' house was a mess.  They had used three
cartons of eggs, two rolls of toilet paper for the trees, and a whole bar of
soap on the windows.  They had overturned the neighbourhood's garbage all over
his front lawn, and had set a fire in his mailbox.  They had slapped three
pieces of baloney on the roof of his car (which would take a considerable amount
of paint with them when Sevarius peeled them off the following morning) and
stuffed a potato up the muffler.  And, in a final act off bittersweet vengeance,
Delilah had thrown a huge rock through the living room window.  It had hit
Sevarius' big screen TV, which had exploded in a shower of glass and sparks.
Delilah had admitted that vandalizing the bastard's house made her feel
better...more so than she would have had she killed the murdering prick, which
she had wanted to do.  Whitbourne had convinced her that this was a better way,
and after the 'house party' at Sevarius', she had to agree.
     "How's ye doin' for eggs, me girl?" Whitbourne called.  His backpack was
considerably lighter than it had been when he left the castle.
     "I'm doing fine."  Delilah called back.  She had brought a fair amount of
prankster supplies with her, to supplement Whitbourne's endless gags.
     "That's good."  Whitbourne agreed, slowing.  He grabbed her in a warm
embrace, and kissed her deeply.
     "Now what was ye after sayin' last night about bein' saucy?"  he asked.
     Delilah smiled.  "You'll see.  Let's do one more house, first."  she stated
as the couple passed over a residential secton.
     "Ye's startin' to enjoy this, ain't ye?"  Whitbourne grinned.  Delilah
smirked, and nodded.
     Whitbourne muttered something under his breath, and chuckled.  He squinted,
and looked towards a fairly large house, surrounded by autumn-killed trees.
     "How about that one?"  he pointed.  Delilah looked at the house he
indcated, and shrugged.
     "I'se itchin' to throw a few more eggs."  Whitbourne grinned, opening his
kitbag.  He drew out a fresh package of eggs.  Delilah did the same.
     As they passed over the gate to the fair-sized estate, neither of them
noticed the name engraved on a plaque next to the iron bars.  If they had, they
might have stayed away, and the evening could have turned out quite differently.
But they had no clue that the owner's name was one that would have sent any of
the original members of Clan Manhattan into a rage.
     The name on the plaque was Dominique Destine.
     Demona.

********************************************************************************
***

The Rockaway Nightclub
8:48 p.m., EST

     Alexander stared at the dance floor in wide-eyed amazement.  Puck grinned,
and crossed his arms.  The two of them couldn't be seen; Puck had cast a spell
of invisibility.  It would have looked odd to see a short little man with
pointed ears running around with a year old kid dressed up as a Mighty Morphin
Power Ranger, so Puck had eliminated that danger.  As far as anyone knew, the
place they were standing was just a vacant spot near the railing of the balcony.

Puck watched as a girl dressed up as a dominatrix walked by, and smiled.  She's
pretty cute, he thought, felling a bit lustful all of a sudden.
     "So, Alex, ready for the big tamale?"  he grinned, levitating. The two of
them had been around the area, playing several small tricks.  Alex had caught on
very quickly, and was delightfully imitating whatever Puck did.   And Alex even
had time to get a little bit of candy from a few houses, whenever Puck would
redon the Owen Burnett guise to give him a little trick or treating time.
     Alex clapped his hands, and laughed.  He pointed delightfully to Brooklyn
and Carbonear, who were on the dance floor.  Puck shook his head.
     "Not yet.  First you have to learn how."  Puck chided.  "Pay attention,
now."
     He turned.  "We have to give you a demonstration, first."  he stated.  He

looked out on the floor, and saw Matt Bluestone sitting at a table with his
girlfriend.  There's a safe target, he thought.
     "Now, pay attention, Alex."  he stated.  Alex turned to him, his full
attention on his teacher.
     "Truest feelings, deep inside/Thou now no more wishest to hide/Instead,
thou now becomest keen/To let thy truest emotions be seen!"  Puck chanted,
projecting a tiny mental push at Bluestone.  A tiny wisp of green smoke suddenly
flew from his mouth, and headed directly into Matt Bluestone's eyes.

********************************************************************************
***

     Matt Bluestone sat, staring in a lover's wonder at the woman he intended to
marry.  She was tapping along to the music on the stage, and she was holding his
hand.
     "I'm so glad you could get the night off, Matt."  Cornelia Stallman stated.
     "So am I."  Matt grinned.  He was dressed up as a doctor, and she had
fashioned a costume to make herself look like a princess.  He wouldn't have
cared if she had dressed up in a paper-bag.
     He reached into his coat pocket, and grabbed the box.  Without her seeing,
he opened it, and stared in silence at the engagement ring.
     When would be the right time? he wondered to himself.  When...
     He suddenly felt a blink inside of him, and his head started to hurt.  He
put a hand to his temple, and gasped.
     "Matt?"  Cornelia asked, looking at him with concern.  "Matt, hon, are you
all right?"
     "Yeah, I'm fine."  Matt blinked.  "Have you got a Tylenol, by any chance?"
     "I think so."  Cornelia nodded.  She went digging throughout her purse.
Matt looked at her, and suddenly the headache disappeared.  With a blink, every
thought vanished from his mind, except for Cornelia.   He could think of nothing
else but her.  Her beauty suddenly dazzled him, and he all of a sudden wanted
nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her.  The need seemed to be
coming from out of nowhere.
     He took out the box, and set it on the table.  When Cornelia looked up from
her purse with the Tylenol, it was the first thing she saw.  She looked at it
questioningly.
     "Open it up."  Matt invited.  The headache was gone, now, but he suddenly
had an urge to pick up Cornelia and dance with her all night.  He wanted to tell
her every thought he'd ever had about her.  He wanted to...
     Cornelia opened the box, and her jaw dropped.  She looked at Matt with a
dazed look in her eyes, and became speechless.
     Matt got up, and took the box.  He knelt down on one knee before her, and
looked up at her with absolute love in his eyes.  The people around their table

stopped, and began to watch.  Matt wouldn't have cared if the whole club was
looking.
     "Cornelia Anne Stallman..."  Matt began.  "...will you marry me?"
     Cornelia burst into tears.  She reached down, and hugged Matt so tightly
that he at first thought she would break his neck.  "Yes, Matt."  she whispered,
without hesitation.  "Yes, I'll marry you."
     Everyone burst into a round of applause.

********************************************************************************
***

     As the music played, Brooklyn began to mentally rehearse his lines again.

He looked at Carbonear, flubbed them, and sighed.
     "What's wrong, my son?" she asked.  "Ye looks awful tense."
     "Oh, I'm just thinking."  Brooklyn replied.
     "That's a first."  Carbonear grinned.  Brooklyn growled good-naturedly, and
took her by the hands.  They began to dance together.
     "There's something I want to tell you."  Brooklyn stated.
     "What's that?"  Carbonear asked.  She smiled at him, and he began to
fluster.
     "Uh...I wanted to...to..."  Brooklyn stumbled, searching for the right
words to say.
     "Spit it out, bye.  C'mon."  Carbonear prompted.  At a table on the other
side of the club, there was suddenly a round of applause.
     Brooklyn began to panic.   He couldn't say the words he wanted to say.  He

couldn't tell her how he felt.  There was no way he was ready yet.
     "Nevermind."  he stated in a small voice.

********************************************************************************
***

     "So, come on.  You wanna dance, don't you?"  Austin Grant asked.  He had
recovered from the blow to his ego a while before, and had found a new target.
     "No."  Kennedy Woodworth frowned.  "I told you that seven times."  She
looked helplessly at Laine and Shawn, who were trying not to giggle.
     Austin Grant had swaggered over to her table about ten minutes before,
apparently had decided he liked Kennedy, and had been pestering her for a dance.
Kennedy knew about him on reputation, but was now beginning to see how much of a
creep he really was.  He exuded confidence and male bravado from every pore.  He
acted as if the only thing that meant anything at all to him was scoring.  To be
blunt, the guy was a walking penis.
     "Why not?"  Austin asked.  "You look like a girl who knows how to have
fun."
     Kennedy looked around, and saw that green gargoyle she had been talking
about before.  He was walking around the Meat Market, apparently looking for his
friends.
     "I'm seeing someone else."  she told Austin.  "I'm here with another guy."
     "Where is he, then?"  Austin knitted his brow, crossing his arms.  Laine
and Shawn looked at Kennedy, and gave her a questioning glance.
     Kennedy began to stammer.  She felt a sudden movement behind her, and heard
a voice call out for someone named Carb.  A male voice.
     Quite impulsively, Kennedy reached behind her, and grabbed the person's
arm.  There was a strangled cry of "What the frigg?" and then Kennedy pulled him
in.  It was then that she noticed the person's skin was green.  She paled.  She
had grabbed the gargoyle.
     The gargoyle looked at her in confusion.  "Who the frigg is ye?"  he asked,
bewildered.
     "Here he is."  Kennedy stated, recovering from her confusion and looking at
Austin.  "Here's my man."
     The gargoyle's jaw dropped, and he stared in disbelief at Kennedy.  "WHAT?"
     Austin paled.  Kennedy looked at him, and reached down and gave the
gargoyle a kiss on the lips.
     "Where were you, hon?"  she asked.  "I missed you."
     "What the Christ is goin' on here?"  the gargoyle asked.
     "Sorry to have bothered you."  Austin mumbled, and he sauntered off.
Kennedy smiled, and turned to the others.  Laine and Shawn were staring at her
silently.  The gargoyle looked at her with an expression of confusion on his
face.
     "Mind telling me what that was after being all about?"  he asked.
     Kennedy chuckled.  "Sorry about that."
     The gargoyle raised an eye ridge, pulled up a chair, and sat with them,
setting the glass of whiskey he had been drinking on the table. "Me girl, ye
gots some 'splainin' to do."

********************************************************************************
***

     "And that's how it's done."  Puck grinned, watching with satisfaction as
Matt proposed to his girlfriend.  He didn't feel the least bit guilty for doing
it; by the very fact that he had proposed to her, he had indicated that it was
something he had been planning to do without the effects of the spell anyway.
Puck had simply hurried him along.  Given him a little push, as it were.
     Alex looked at him.  "I wanna try." he stated, smiling.
     "Sure.  In fact, why don't you give the big tamale a shot?"
     Alex grinned.  "Big tamale."  He searched out Brooklyn and Carbonear on the
dance floor, and pointed at Brooklyn.
     "Uh huh."  Puck stated.  "Remember, though, you can't concentrate too hard.
Just a little bit, okay, Alex?  Just a little push."
     Alex frowned, and glared at Puck.  He furrowed his brow, and stared at the
gargoyle couple.
     "Truest feelings..." Puck prompted.
     "I KNOW."  Alex hissed.  Puck blinked, and raised an eyebrow.
     "Truest feelings, deep inside/Thou now no more wishest to hide/Instead,
thou now becomest keen/To let thy truest emotions be seen!"  Alex chanted.
Despite his youth, and his simple speech during normal times, he could shape the
worlds almost perfectly when casting a spell.
     The green smoke began to collect in Alex's mouth.  As it flowed out, Alex
looked at Brooklyn, and grinned.
     He drew in the force of his will, and 'pushed' Brooklyn as hard as he
could.

********************************************************************************

***

     Carbonear laughed as Brooklyn drew her in a little closer.
     "Ye dances like a fisherman, bye."  she stated.  Brooklyn grinned.
     "That's what I'm after wantin'." he stated.  He began to pull away from her
again.
     Suddenly, his eyes shot wide open.  He stopped moving, and began staring
straight ahead.  Carbonear thought it might have been a trick of the light, but
his eyes began to take on a faint trace of green.
     "Brooklyn?"  she asked concernedly.  Brooklyn blinked, and shook his head.
He put one four taloned hand to his temple.
     "Whoa."  he muttered.  "Migraine."
     "You want me to go get you an Asprin at the bar, or something?"  Carbonear
asked.
     Brooklyn shook his head.  "I'll be fine." he stated.
     Carbonear looked behind her, to see if she could figure out what he'd been
staring