Heart of a Saturday Night
A "Gargoyles" Fan Fiction Story by Dylan P. Blacquiere (pblacqui@cycor.ca)

Story #4
Description:  Six short stories about the gargoyles, struggling with the
different aspects of love, on a typical Manhattan Saturday night.

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.
This story contains mature subject matter (sexual content), so read at your
own volition.  However, reader discretion is advised.
Also, The Rockaway, Tish, Gomez, Ramona, Sasha, Frank, and Isadore are all
the characters and locations of the very talented Christi Smith Hayden, and
are used with her permission.
I would like to thank my editors, Christi Smith Hayden, Lori MacDonald, and
Vince Tomasso.  I would also like to thank Ryan "Proteus" Stout, who
generoulsly agreed to wordwrap this for me.  In the words of Whitbourne,
"Thanks, byes!  Ye's awful wicked pals!"

HISTORIAN'S NOTE:  This story takes place one month after "Lady Delilah's
Lover", and the stories which come before that.  You should probably read
them, (well, of course you should!)  but you won't get seriously lost
without them.

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OPHELIA:  "I'm now convinced that love is too complicated for the likes of
me."
"One Ring To Rule Them All"

XANATOS:  (voice-over)  "Previously, on 'Gargoyles'..."

GOLIATH:  "Elisa..."
ELISA:  "Yeah, I know.  You're as relieved as I am that everything is back
to normal."
GOLIATH:  "That's not what I was..."
ELISA:  "I know.  But that's the way it is."
(Show Goliath and Elisa kissing, from "Immortal Beloved")
"The Mirror"

ELISA:  "You know how I feel about you."
GOLIATH:  "How we both feel...yes..."
(Show "the kiss" from "Hunter's Moon, Part Three")
"Hunter's Moon, Part Three"

ELISA:  "I had to tell Captain Chavez all about you guys.  She was
surprisingly understanding."
"The Coming Of Shadows"

CHAVEZ:  "Uh...nice to meet you."
"The Coming Of Shadows"

BROADWAY:  "Angela, I've loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on
you.  And now that we're about to become bonded forever, I ask of you this
simple question."
(Show Broadway and Angela kissing, from "From Darkness To Light")
BROADWAY:  "Will you have me as your bonded mate, forever?"
"And In The Darkness Bind Them"

ANGELA:  "I think so.  Yes, Broadway, I think I do love you."
"One Ring To Rule Them All"

DELILAH:  "I'm falling in love with you."
(Show Whitbourne bowing to Delilah, from "Lady Delilah's Lover"
"Lady Delilah's Lover"

WHITBOURNE:  "This is the first time I'se ever really been in love with
anyone before."
"Lady Delilah's Lover"

OPHELIA:  "If something is going to happen, we let it happen.  We don't try
to hurry it along."
(Show Ophelia and Lexington cuddling, from "Immortal Beloved")
"Immortal Beloved"

LEXINGTON:  "Now, I think it's more than that.  I think it's you.  I love
you."
"Shadowlands"

CARBONEAR:  "There's a feeling that the two of us was meant to be
together...or at least to share in something special together.  That there
was a bond between us."
"And In The Darkness Bind Them"

BROOKLYN:  "We're really good friends.  And if I can say that after knowing
you for six hours, there must be something special between us."
"And In The Darkness Bind Them"

HAWTHORNE:  "Don't give up hope on finding someone you love.  She's out
there.  Perhaps a lot closer than you think."
(Show Brooklyn and Carbonear roosting together, from "Immortal Beloved")
"Immortal Beloved"

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Prologue

          The Heart Of Saturday Night

23rd Precinct House
June 14, 1997
6:29 p.m., Eastern Daylight Time

     "Dee dee na na na!"
     "Hey, Manhattan, this is FM 108.1, Energy 108!  Coming at you live
with the best in dance music on this lovely midtown Saturday night!  Let's
get things started off with a little Whigfield, and 'Saturday Night'..."
the radio blared
     "Oh, shut that crap off."  Maria Chavez groaned, loudly enough so
people outside the office could hear.  Somebody in the room complied, and
the station was switched to something a little less annoying.  Maria
nodded, and relaxed.  She sat back in her chair.  She was only here for a
little bit longer, and then she had the night off.  And she had one of the
wierdest dates of her life planned.
     She couldn't believe she had decided to go through with it.  It was
all Elisa's fault, too.  Elisa had come in to do some paperwork several
nights ago, and saw the open envelope on the desk.  Letting her curiousity
get the best of her, Elisa had asked what was in the envelope.
     "Tickets."  Maria had replied, shoving them guiltily away in her desk.
     "That's nice.  Tickets for what?"
     Maria had actually blushed.  "For 'The Phantom of the Opera' at the
Royal Sovereign.  I had a date to go with one of my old friends from the
academy, but he cancelled.  So now, I'm stuck with two tickets to a
musical, and I don't even have an escort.  Do you want them, Maza?"
     "When are they for?"
     "This Saturday night, at 9:00 p.m."
     Elisa had sucked in her breath and tapped her fingers on the desk.  "I
can't.  I'm going upstate with...a friend...that week-end.  We're spending
a romantic weekend for two up near Niagara Falls.  We've been planning it
for months."
     "Aha.  Well, I'll see if maybe Bluestone, or Morgan wants them."
Maria had shrugged, knowing perfectly well who this friend she was talking
about was.  After the incident with the Hunters almost nine months ago,
Elisa had told her everything about her relationship with the gargoyles.
     The detective had nodded.  And then, Elisa's eyes had begun to
twinkle.
     "Don't give them away just yet, Captain.  I might be able to find
someone who's interested."
     Maria had looked at her with genuine interest.  And then, she had
remembered who she was talking to.  With a look of horror, she had shut the
office door.
     "Is he human?"  Maria had asked.  Elisa had hesitated, and shook her
head.
     Maria had closed her eyes.  "No.  Absolutely not.  No way."
     "Captain, they're really great guys.  I've known them for three years,
and I wouldn't be recommending it if I didn't think it was a good idea.
Besides, Hudson's a really great person, and he'd love to see the show.
And I know the two of you have lots in common..."
     "No offense, but couldn't he go see it anyway?  I mean, with those
wings the gargoyles have, it must be easy to sneak into shows."
     Elisa had waved her hand.  "Captain, I know you've got your misgivings
But it doesn't sound like you'll be doing anything on Saturday night
anyway.  And he'd love to see the show, but he'd also love to have someone
to go with.  He's kind of lonely."
     "Maza."  Maria had said.  "I understand your friendship with the
gargoyles.  When you told me about it last year, I was quite happy with it.
I have no problem with gargoyles.  But if you're trying to find me a
boyfriend with wings..."
     Elisa had actually laughed.  "No, no, no.  Trust me.  I'd die if the
two of you started that.  I'm just saying, the two of you have common
interests.  You two would be really great friends.  And all of the other
gargoyles are younger than he is, and are starting to find things more
interesting in pairs than as a clan..."
     After a long while of convincing, Maria had actually given in.  She
had no idea why.  In fact, even after she'd agreed to it, she'd found
herself trying to find anyone who would be interested in two Phantom
tickets.  But nobody was interested.  She didn't want to throw them away,
as they'd cost her an awful lot of money...but still, considering that she
probably wasn't going to be walking into the box office with this Hudson
fellow anyway, it probably didn't matter.  Oh, well.
     She walked out of the office, waving a cheery good night to Bluestone
and Morgan, both on duty.  Maza, of course, had gone with Goliath up to
that Xanadu place of Xanatos' the night before.  Maria had to smile.  Life
was so funny.  Elisa Maza, former Xanatos Hater Number One, was actually
using his upstate retreat for a romantic week-end, and she herself was
about to go on a blind date with a gargoyle.
     She walked out to the parking lot, and drove in relative silence to
her apartment.  Carmen, her seven-year old daughter, was staying with her
grandparents for the week-end, so she at least didn't have to find a
babysitter.  It was just as well.  Smiling, she pictured trying to explain
what she was doing tonight.  The rumors that 'Mommy has a boyfriend, and
he's got WINGS!' would be all over the Sunshine Daycare in seconds the
following day.
     Maria Chavez sighed, and began getting ready for her date.

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*****

Castle Wyvern
7:05 p.m., EDT

     Brooklyn twiddled with the shower faucets, and turned on the water.
He picked up the bar of soap, and began to wash himself.
     He was planning on going out with Carbonear.  The two of them were
spending an awful lot of time together, lately.  They planned on going to
the movies tonight, and then just cruising the town.
     Of course, everyone had plans tonight.  Broadway and Angela were
spending the night at the castle, having a romantic dinner, although it was
pretty common knowledge that there would probably be a little more than
that going on.  Whitbourne was going to the Labyrinth, where he spent most
of his time lately.  There, he was planning on meeting Delilah, and the two
were going to simply hang out.  Lexington and Ophelia were going out in the
more traditional sense of the word.  Ophelia had last month discovered that
she liked jazz music, and Matt had told her and Lexington about a club that
played a lot of jazz, which he and Cornelia often went to, called the
Rockaway.  It had a fairly gargoyle friendly atmosphere...that is, there
were plenty of spots to remain inconspicuous...but, all the same, the two
were dressing up in human clothes, just in case they were seen.  Hudson had
a blind date with Elisa's police captain, which Elisa had set up, one he
was not looking forward to.  But he really wanted to see the play they were
going to, and was at least willing to meet this Captain Chavez, even though
he could just as easily sneak into the theatre and sit on the balcony
alone.  Xanatos and Fox were gone to Rio de Janerio for a vacation, and
Owen had been left behind to run things and watch the baby.  Bonavista had
caught the flu, and was too sick to do anything else but lie on the couch
and watch TV.  And Goliath and Elisa were gone to Xanadu for the week-end,
to finally take the trip they had been toying with since February.  The
city was in the middle of one of the biggest crime lulls in history, and
the clan had reasoned that one Saturday night off of patrols wouldn't hurt.
     Brooklyn finished washing, and grabbed the bottle of shampoo.  He
squeezed out a generous portion of it, and washed his cottony-white hair.
Finally, he was done, and he turned off the shower.  He quickly dried
himself off, and put on his loincloth.
     He unlocked the bathroom door, and saw Lexington waiting there,
leaning up impatiently against the stone wall.  Brooklyn made a
melodramatic wave towards the shower, and Lexington rolled his eyes.  The
smaller gargoyle shut the door, and locked it.
     "Don't be fiddling with the taps!"  he yelled through the door.
     Brooklyn grinned.  "Would I do that?"
     He turned and walked off towards the smoke hole.  But as he passed by
the TV room, he realized mostly everyone was there, instead.
     Whitbourne was sitting on the couch impatiently.  "Is the shower
free?"  he asked, looking up at the still damp Brooklyn.  He was sitting
back, relaxing, leaning against the couch, yet still making room for
Bonavista.
     "No.  Lexington just went in.  And I think Hudson's in the other one."
Brooklyn replied, looking to see what was being watched.  Tapes of 'The
X-Files'.  Of course.
     "And Angela's in the girl's one, so don't try and sneak in there."
Ophelia admonished.  She, too, was waiting, but at least she was patient.
     Bonavista was lying sprawled on the couch, leaving barely enough room
for Whitbourne.  He had apparently caught the cold from Matt, who was just
getting over a bout of it.  He had expressed surprise that gargoyles could
get sick, and had left a bottle of his favorite brand of cough medicine,
which he swore was a miracle cure.  Bonavista had taken one dose, thrown
up, and tossed the rest of the bottle away.
     He was quite cheerful, however.  "So, byes, while ye's all out
tonight, I'll be sitting here, living the good life." he taunted, lacing
his arms back behind his head.  He looked up at the ceiling, and began to
whistle.
     "The good life?"  Broadway asked, sitting in the recliner.  He had
already had his shower, and was simply waiting for Angela to finish hers.
     "Yeah.  Drinking ginger ale and watching my tapes of 'The X-Files'.  I
hasn't seen it the last couple of weeks, so I needs a dose of government
conspiracy."
     "You just lived one a month ago."  Brooklyn frowned, looking
cautiously at Whitbourne and Bonavista.
     Bonavista and Whitbourne gave him a pained glance...they didn't really
like to talk about the Bras d'Or incident.  Some of its legacies lived
on...Whitbourne was, of course, seeing Delilah on a regular basis, Malibu
was permanently deafened, the four survivors of the incident had developed
a hatred of Dr. Sevarius, and Whitbourne still delighted in calling
Brooklyn 'Uncle Brook', much to the second in command's chagrin.  Although
the entire clan was still amazed by the distant relationship between Clan
Wyvern and Clan Newfie, the matter had eventually shifted into the
background.  Still, the actual events of those two nights in May were
simply not discussed that often.  When they were, Whitbourne or Bonavista
would most likely change the subject, and that would be the end of that.
     Bonavista coughed, and sighed.  "Still, though, I'm gonna be
contented.  Flat ginger ale and 'The X-Files' is all I needs tonight."
     "The Newf is out there."  Broadway commented dryly.  Everyone burst
out laughing.
     Hudson stepped into the room, combing his hair.  He was dressed as he
usually was as well, although the straps for his leather shirt were undone.
His sword was still by his belt...he had decided that he would take it with
him, just in case something did go wrong and he would be called upon to use
it.
     "You know, for a date you aren't that eager to go out on in the first
place, you're sure trying to look your best."  Broadway frowned.  He
settled comfortably into the chair, and put his feet up.
     "Oh, be quiet, lad.  And I'll be taking my chair back, now."  Hudson
growled, fastening up the straps on his leather shirt.
     "If you're taking someone to a classy theater like the Royal
Sovereign, you should dress up a little bit."  Brooklyn smirked.  "I'm sure
Captain Chavez would love to see you show up at her window wearing a
tuxedo, Hudson."
     "This'll be the last time I'll be telling ye to leave me alone."
Hudson whined.  "You know how apprehensive I am about this.  I don't know
what I was thinking when Elisa approached me about it, and I agreed to it.
And you!"  Hudson growled at Bronx, who had hopped on to the recliner
Broadway had just vacated.  "Get off of my chair, ye great beast!"
     "Well, ye's getting to see a show that ye's wanted to see for a long
time."  Whitbourne pointed out.
     "Right.  This is the first time that the Phantom's even played in New
York since we woke up."  Broadway continued.  "On Broadway, no less."
     Ophelia rolled her eyes.  "Broadway..."
     "I'm just saying, I have the most cultured name out of all of us."
     "Ye knows, I thinks the name more fits your size than your artistic
appreciation."  Bonavista sniffled, grabbing a tissue.  Whitbourne laughed.
     "Good one, Bonnie!"  he cried.  The two gave each other a high five.
     Ophelia was looking out the window.  "I can't wait to get to this
Rockaway place.  Lexington called there earlier to get a schedule, and
they're having a band with saxophones play tonight.  Just like the jazz
CD's."
     "Carb's got some clothes that might fit ye."  Whitbourne turned,
looking at her as she stood against the wall.  "I doesn't know about Lex,
though.  Anything we has'll be pretty baggy."
     "Where is Carbonear, anyway?"  Brooklyn asked.
     "She's up in the smoke hole, looking for something to wear for your
date."  Broadway grinned.
     "It's not a date."  Brooklyn replied quickly.  "We're going to see a
movie."
     "What movie?"  Bonavista asked.
     Brooklyn frowned.  "You guys are going to make a big deal about this."
     "No, we won't."  Whitbourne grinned.  Angela stepped into the room,
brushing her damp hair, and Ophelia left to get herself ready.  Brooklyn
chewed on his lip, knowing that the answer to the question would, in fact,
be adding more fuel to the flame.  The clan was starting to see him as
interested in Carbonear.  Although Brooklyn did like her...she was very
beautiful, fun to be around, and generally had nothing but desirable
qualities, he didn't feel comfortable with the others assuming that they
were in love.  After all, he still missed Hawthorne.  He wasn't sad
anymore, but he still felt he needed time before getting ready to fall in
love again.
     Finally, he sighed.  "We're seeing 'Make Of Two Hearts'."
     " 'Make Of Two Hearts'?  Didn't the Times call that one of the most
romantic movies in years in its review?"  Broadway smiled, going over to
stand next to Angela.  He gave her a quick kiss.  "Hey, babe."
     "Hey."  Angela greeted back, getting her brush caught in a tangle of
hair.  "Ouch!"
     Broadway gently untwisted the tangle from the brush.
     "So, let me get this straight, Uncle Brook."  Whitbourne grinned,
savoring the moment as Brooklyn rolled his eyes.  "It's not a date, but
ye's taking her to the most romantic movie that's after being in the
theatres, now..."
     "Well, there wasn't a whole lot playing."  Brooklyn frowned.  "It was
either that or a horror shock slasher, and that's not the sort of movie you
go out on a d...for an evening with..."
     Whitbourne and Bonavista began to whoop.  "Bye, did I hear ye just
about to say date?" Bonavista laughed.
     Brooklyn tried in vain to shut the Newfies up, and eventually biffed a
pillow at Whitbourne.  The blue gargoyle laughed, and threw it back.  But
then he stood up, calling for a stop to the proceedings.
     "Brooklyn, ye know, I might have something for ye to wear, if ye wants
to be after wearing something different." he stated.
     "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"  Brooklyn asked, quickly looking
down.  He was wearing a loincloth and belt, the same that he always did.
     "Nothing's wrong with that, it's just there's some stuff from
Newfoundland that I doesn't wear sitting in that box in the smoke hole, and
the two of us is about the same size.  I was wondering if ye wants it."
     "Brooklyn's thinner than you, Whitbourne."  Angela grinned.  "At
least, he doesn't have a beer belly."
     "I doesn't have a beer belly!"  Whitbourne protested, turning.  "Not
no more, I doesn't, anyway."
     He lifted up his T-shirt, and Angela turned, making gagging noises.
     "Please don't.  I'm eating soon."  Angela laughed.  Bonavista looked
up from the couch, and gave her a thumbs up.
     Whitbourne mimicked her.  "Ye's awful funny, me girl."
     He turned to Brooklyn.  "Come on, my son.  It won't hurt ye to at
least look."
     Brooklyn shrugged, and the two walked off, towards the smoke hole.
     "Hudson, could ye shove in that tape in there?  The one on top of the
VCR?"  Bonavista sniffled.  "That's my favorite.  My alien tape.  It's got
'The Erlenmeyer Flask' on it, and that's my all-time favorite episode."
     "Every episode of that show is your all time favorite."  Hudson
pointed out, but he shoved the tape in.  Bonavista told him to shush, and
snuggled deeply into the blankets, only pausing to grab a Kleenex and blow
his nose.
     Angela smiled, and looked at Broadway.  "So how's our dinner coming
along?"
     "It's going fine.  It should be ready soon.  You're lucky, Angela.
Bonavista was telling me I should make Newfie steak, and I was considering
it until I found out what it was."
     "What's Newfie steak?"  Angela asked.
     "Baloney."  Bonavista called from the couch.
     Angela shot him a withering glance.  He grinned, and sneezed cheerily.

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*****

     Carbonear was looking at herself in the mirror, brushing her hair.
She wasn't dressed formally; rather, she was wearing a red blouse (which
showed a comfortable amount of her thin stomach) and white jeans.  She
folded her wings around her, frowned, and adjusted it so that the small
hands at the tips of the limbs were resting on her shoulders.  Her white
hair was down, tonight, and was sufficiently wavy.
     "Look at you, me girl.  Lookin' all sexy."  she grinned, inspecting
herself.
     She was in the washroom, putting the finishing touches on for her
little excursion with Brooklyn.  Of course, she was running late.  Here it
was, seven thirty, and she didn't even have her make-up on yet.
     Ophelia was in there too.  Carbonear had entered after she had
finished showering, with the clothes she had managed to appropriate for
her.  Ophelia, who was feeling very apprehensive about dressing human, had
stared at the garments blankly.
     "I'll be damned if I know how to put this stuff on."  she admitted.
     "Here.  I'll show ye in a second.  Pass us those earrings, Ophelia?"
     Ophelia nodded, and handed her the jewelery.  They were simply two
gold studs, with a small suncatcher crystal suspended from each.  Although
Carbonear would never be awake during the day to actually have them catch
the sun, they were still very beautiful.
     She put the earrings in.  With one final stroke, she applied a little
bit of lipstick, and then she was all ready to go.
     "How does I look?"  she asked, modeling for Ophelia.
     Ophelia shrugged.  "I've never really seen female gargoyles have to
resort to all that preening before.  But you look good, Carb.  Really
good."
     "Thanks."  Carbonear smiled.  "Now let's see what we can do with ye.
This stuff's baggy enough so it can fit over what ye's wearing already."
     She held up a pair of jeans.  "Hmm.  They's a little tight.  I guess
you'll have to go with your tail out."
     Ophelia winced.  "That's not a good thing, is it."
     "Well, ye should probably stay in the shadows anyways.  Ye never knows
what people in crowded nightclubs is like.  Where's this place?  The
Rockaway?"
     "Uh huh.  Matt recommended it."  Ophelia replied, taking the jeans.
She stepped into them, threading her tail through the slit in the back.  It
took a bit of effort convincing her large feet to get through the legs, but
because of the changes Carbonear had apparently made to make the clothes
more accomodating for gargoyles, Ophelia made it through.  She growled as
she pulled them on.
     "Ye's lucky I got all my clothes altered."  Carbonear grinned.  "Every
pair of jeans I owns, I got Marsha Tibbo to put snaps about the feet, so my
big cloggers could fit through.  I doubts that all them jean manufacturers
had us in mind when they was selling designs for their clothes.  And every
heavy sweater's got deep pockets in the back, where ye hides your wings if
ye wants to."
     Ophelia was looking at the sweater Carbonear had chosen for her.  She
picked at it confusedly.  "What is this thing on the end of it?"  she
asked.
     "It's a hood.  Forgive my frankness, Ophelia, but with that big plate
of horns growing out of your head, ye needs it.  Either that, or we's going
to have to pile your hair on top of your head so high ye won't be able to
stand."
     Ophelia sighed, and pulled into the sweater.  Her emerald green wings
popped through first, followed by her hands, and finally her head.  She
made several automatic adjustments.
     "I like it."  she approved.
     Carbonear frowned critically.  "I don't know.  With the hood down, it
looks okay.  But just make sure ye has it on when they's lots of people
around, and you'll be fine."
     Ophelia smiled.  Carbonear took a long-sleeved white shirt, and tied
it around her waist.  "Let's go, then."  Carbonear grinned.  "The others
should be ready soon."

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*****

     Brooklyn rummaged through the box of clothes.  "I don't know,
Whitbourne."
     "Look, my son.  Carb's after getting all dressed up, I knows that.  So
ye might as well put on something.  Besides, ye's awfully underdressed.
And while I doesn't think Carbonear's complaining too much..."
     "I really wish you guys would stop that."  Brooklyn snapped, looking
up.  "I know Carbonear likes me.  I know we spend a lot of time together
lately.  But we're just friends.  A bit closer than normal friends, but
that's all we are."
     Whitbourne grinned.  "I don't know..."
     "I mean it, Whitbourne."  Brooklyn stated quietly.  Whitbourne looked
at him, saw the  serious look in his eyes, and let the subject drop.
     "All right.  Fine."  Whitbourne sighed.  He picked up something...a
dark blue and black track suit, with the name 'Sean' embroidered along one
side.  "Here, my son.  This would look good."
     Brooklyn inspected it.  "A track suit?"
     "It's a nice suit.  I just don't like to wear it."
     "Who's Sean?"
     "Sean Duffet.  Marsha Tibbo's old boyfriend.  The two of them went to
St. Anthony's Catholic School together back in St. John's and Sean was
after being on the soccer team.  He gave her the suit, and when they broke
up, she didn't give it back.  She passed it along to me instead.  They's
even gargoyle alterations."
     Brooklyn inspected the jacket.  On the front was a very catchy, yet
discreet, emblem of a soccer team, with 'St. Anthony's Roman Catholic
Academy AA Soccer Team 1991- Quaerite prime Regnum Dei' stitched in small
letters along the top.  On the back, there were two zippers that stretched
from the bottom of the jacket to about shoulder length.
     "Zippers for the wings?"  Brooklyn asked, looking up.
     "Marsha loves to sew.  She was after giving us a whole bunch of
clothes with things to make wearing them easier for us.  Look at the pants,
my lad."
     Brooklyn picked up the pants.  All along the sides of it were snap
away buttons.  And near the top of the back end was a hemmed slit for the
tail to come through.
     "I like it."  he found himself smiling.
     "If ye wants it..."
     Brooklyn looked at him.  "Just for one night, I guess.  And if
Carbonear's getting all dressed up..."
     He snapped open the pants, and quickly put them on, sliding his tail
in through the slit and resnapping the buttons.  He slipped on the jacket,
experimentally wiggling his fingers, and feeling the soft material on his
skin.  Finally, he put his wings through the holes on the back, and,
reaching back, zipped up the zippers.
     He inspected himself.  "It feels wierd."  he admitted.  "This is the
most I've ever worn before."
     Whitbourne crossed his arms, and smiled.  "I'll never understand why
ye's insists on running around in what pretty much amounts to underwear."
     "We don't need all that much clothing, Witless.  Nice as this is, it's
only cosmetic.  From my point of view, you, Bonnie and Carb are
overdressed."
     He looked at the emblem.  "I don't think I'll wear this that often,
but maybe for tonight.  Just for a change of pace.  What does that say?"
     "Uh, it's Latin.  I can't remember what it means.  Ask Carbonear.  I
knows it's the motto of the school, and the provincial saying of
Newfoundland, besides..."
     "Okay."  Brooklyn sighed.  He walked around.  "This just feels so
strange."
     Whitbourne shrugged.  "I gots to go have me a shower now.  I forgot I
was waiting for one when Hudson came back."
     He left the smoke-hole, whistling cheerily.
     Brooklyn did the same, in the opposite direction, heading back for the
TV room.

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

     Lexington entered the kitchen, looking very pleased with himself.  He
whistled, and turned around so Broadway, who was cooking, could see him.
     "How do I look?"  Lexington asked proudly.
     Broadway sighed, and turned back to the range.  He finished placing
the tin foil over the chicken, and set it in the oven.  "You look...I don't
know how to describe it, Lex."
     "What's wrong with it?  I have everything conspicuous covered up."
Lexington protested.
     That he did.  His clothes were very baggy.  The jeans, while they
weren't dragging along the floor, did cover up a fair bit of his oversized
gargoyle feet.  His tail was comfortably wrapped around his right leg, and
was hidden away in the pants.  He also had on a large, baggy gray sweater,
with 'Memorial University, St. John's, Newfoundland' emblazoned on the
front.  Given his unusual wing structure, he didn't need full-blown wing
holes, and those appendages were concealed by some feat of contortionism
that would never be equalled by a more conventionally winged gargoyle such
as Broadway.  Completing the ensemble was a white and black ball cap,
sitting proudly atop Lexington's bald head.  It had a brand name of some
sneaker company emblazoned on it.   Broadway recognized the cap as Matt's,
which had been left here one night after he had come to visit, on his way
to the health club with Cornelia Stallman, his girlfriend.  Now those two
were becoming a serious item, Broadway thought.  He remembered Elisa
predicting that even though the couple had only been going out for three
months, there was a sound suspiciously like wedding bells in the future.
     "Nothing's wrong with it, Lex."  Broadway replied, turning his
attention to the potato soup simmering on the rangetop.  "I'm just
wondering why you and Ophelia are going to such great lengths to dress up."
     "Because."  Lexington frowned, taking his ball cap off and adjusting
the strap.  "We're going into a nightclub, where it might not be a good
idea to have people see that we're gargoyles.  Matt told me that there
aren't a lot of places where nobody will see you, but that there's lots
where nobody takes much notice of you.  And besides, if you think I'm
dressed weird, you should see Brooklyn's track suit."
     "His WHAT?"
     "I saw him walking around, and he's dressed in this black and blue
track suit.  The name on the sleeve is Sean, too, so I called him that, and
he chased me."  Lexington grinned.  He walked over to the range, and dipped
a finger into the soup.  Broadway smacked his hand with the ladle.
     "It's for Angela.  It's her favorite soup."  Broadway replied.  "I
want tonight to be perfect.  I even snuck into the wine storeroom, and got
a bottle vintage 1982."
     "So you're going to impress her with potato soup and fifteen year old
wine?"  Lexington asked.
     "It's the way to a woman's heart, Lex."  Broadway smiled.
     "I suppose you're the one we should all be asking about that.  And
Whitbourne."
     Broadway grinned.  "I can't picture Whitbourne with a girl.  I keep
thinking of him saying 'How's ye, me girl', and her punching him in the
nose."
     "Whitbourne's been pretty successful, if you go by his bragging.  But
he really loves Delilah, and he says the sex is just a side benefit for
being with her."  Lexington pointed out.
     He wiggled his eye ridges.  "So, you know, how far have you and Angela
gone?"
     There was a clatter as Broadway dropped the ladle.  "WHAT?"
     Lexington cringed.  "You know?  Have you and Angela..."
     "I don't see how that's any of your business."
     "You haven't, have you."
     Broadway sighed.  "Not yet."  He picked up the ladle, and wiped it off
with the dishcloth.  "It's funny how we're finally at the right age, isn't
it?"
     "Well, our first mating flight isn't that far off, I don't think."
Lexington nodded.  "Goliath and Hudson are starting to get anxious.  Every
time they see me and Ophelia go off alone, even though they know we're not
even officially seeing each other, they kind of get this twinkle in their
eyes.  As if they're thinking about designating some storeroom a rookery."
     Lexington sighed.  "But you and Angela have been mates for half a
year, and you haven't had sex yet?"
     "How the hell can you be so blunt about this, when I'm a good four
years older than you?"
     Lexington shrugged.  "I don't know.  I guess I'm just not as shy as
you."
     Broadway frowned.  "It's weird, Lex.  I mean, I love her, and I want
to...you know, have sex with her.  And sometimes we come really, really
close.  We've made out so many times I've lost count.  And sometimes we
start to go farther, but then it just...stops.  Like I can't bring myself
to go that extra step.  Maybe I'm just shy, or something, but I don't know
if I'm really ready or not."
     "You don't know if you're ready?"
     "Yeah.  I'm starting to think Angela and I rushed into this."  he
revealed.  "But maybe tonight we will.  I don't know.  Why do you want to
know?"
     "I'm curious.  We all are.  It's like that with everyone, Broadway.
When it comes to love, people have just got to know how other people are
doing."  Lexington sighed.  He walked towards the kitchen door, opened the
fridge as an afterthought, and absently grabbed an orange.  He peeled it,
and popped one of the pieces in his mouth.  "But if you aren't ready, why
did you become mates with her?"
     "Just becoming somebody's mate doesn't mean you have to have sex every
night, Lex."  Broadway muttered, suddenly sounding a bit unsure, as if he
were trying more to convince himself than Lexington.  "And when we're both
ready, we will do it.  But I don't want to rush it.  Besides, we're
spending the rest of our lives together, anyway.  She's still promised
herself to me."
     Lexington shrugged.  "All right.  Holy f...is that the right time?"
     Broadway looked at the clock on the wall, which read 7:43  "Yep."
     Lexington uttered a nasty word.  "All right."  he repeated.  "I'll see
you later, Broadway.  Ophelia and I are going, now."
     "Have fun."  Broadway called.  He sounded a little preoccupied, as if
Lexington's comments were making him uneasy.
     Lexington grinned.  "I will, Mom.  Save me some of that soup."

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

     And then, everybody left.
     Hudson was getting ready to leave to pick up Maria Chavez when
Lexington and Ophelia, both dresssed in human attire, walked up on the
parapets.  He hopped off of the ledge, walked over, and gave them both an
inspection.
     "You forgot to do up your zipper, lad."  Hudson pointed out, looking
at Lexington.  Lexington blushed, and turned.  He pulled his zipper on his
pants up, and spun back, to see Ophelia chuckling at him.
     "This is my first time wearing this stuff."  Lexington frowned
defensively.  "One of us was bound to make that mistake."
     Ophelia nodded knowingly, still smiling.
     Brooklyn came up several seconds later.  He was wearing the track suit
still, and was stopping every few steps to make sure it was still on okay.
     "That suit looks good on you."  Ophelia commented.
     Brooklyn looked up, doing up the zipper on the coat. "Thanks.  I don't
know how long I'm going to wear it, though."
     "When did ye change your name, lad?"  Hudson asked, looking at the
jacket's sleeve.
     Brooklyn bowed with a dramatic flourish.  "Just call me Sean Brooklyn,
Hudson."
     "Nah.  I still likes Uncle Brook better."  somebody quipped from the
darkened stairwell.  Whitbourne, freshly groomed and carrying his guitar
case, stepped out, and grinned.  "So, we's all off."
     "All of you, anyway.  I'm still waiting on Carbonear.  Where is she?
The movie starts in half an hour."
     "I think she went to the bathroom, to clean up a little bit more."
Ophelia frowned, experimentally pulling her sweater's hood over her head.
     "All you need is sunglasses and you look like the Unabomber."
Lexington smirked.  Ophelia looked at him blankly, made the reference, and
punched him in the arm.
     "What is it with girls and their make-up?"  Brooklyn asked, winking at
Hudson.  "This is the third time Carbonear's gone to fix it."
     "We likes to look our best for ingrates like ye."  Carbonear muttered,
walking out into the June evening.
     Whitbourne's, Brooklyn's, Lexington's and even Hudson's heads all
turned at the sight of her.  She looked absolutly spectacular.  She had
actually gone to take some of her make-up off, taking advantage of her
natural beauty.  The bright clothes she was wearing seemed to make her navy
blue skin seem almost brighter in comparison.  And of course, she was
wearing her trademarked sparkling smile.
     She walked up to Brooklyn.  "Nice track suit, sexy."  she grinned,
playing with the zipper on the front of the jacket.
     "You look...great."  Brooklyn stammered, searching for the right word.
     "Is that all?  I thought ye would have at least said 'drop-dead
gorgeous'."
     "You look drop-dead gorgeous."  Brooklyn rephrased his sentence,
smiling.  "May all my hair fall out if I'm lying.  By the way, while I was
in the bathroom, I saw this bald spot..."
     "If ye doesn't stop that, I'll rip out that hair and give ye a few new
bald spots, my son."
     Brooklyn raised his hands.  "All right, I'm sorry.  But you're
stunning, Carbonear.  Almost as stunned as Whitbourne, too."
     "I thinks ye's taking a rise out of me."  Carbonear crossed her arms,
raising an eye ridge.  "Flattering me just to make me look like a fool."
     "I've been found out, Witless.  What am I going to do?'  Brooklyn
called.
     "If ye's after insulting Carbonear, I thinks it's best if ye ran,
bye."  Whitbourne called back.
     Brooklyn looked at Carbonear, who was smiling oddly.  "Uh oh."  he
grinned.  He turned, and sprinted for the parapets, and dove off into the
night.  Carbonear followed, pretending to give chase, and the two could be
heard laughing as they playfully pursued one another across the sky.
     Hudson was watching them.  "He's wrong.  It is a date."  the elder
gargoyle muttered.  "So long.  I'm off for my 'experience'."
     "Hudson, lighten up.  Ye might be after having fun.  Does ye know the
address?"  Whitbourne asked, getting ready to leave himself.
     "Aye.  I'll see you fellows later."  he sighed.  He spread his wings,
and headed westward, mumbling to himself as he went.
     "He's going to come back, and he won't be able to shut up about the
fabulous night he had."  Lexington grinned.
     "Put your money where your mouth's to, bye."  Whitbourne smirked,
inspecting the clasps on the guitar case.  "I'll bet ye that baseball cap
ye's got on that Hudson's going to keep everything to himself."
     Lexington looked at Ophelia, and grinned.  "You're on."  he smiled,
turning back to Whitbourne.  "And if I win...I'll think of something."
     Whitbourne nodded.  "All right.  We'll just see come sunrise, my son."
He leapt off of the parapet, and soared away.
     "Just you and me."  Lexington sighed.  "We're going to have to take
these clothes off to glide.  It would have been easier to bring the
frigging things with us, and change when we got there."
     "Too late to do anything about that now."  Ophelia sighed, pulling off
her sweater.  Lexington did the same, regretfully removing the whole
ensemble.  Standing in his loincloth, which he had been wearing underneath,
he folded the garments carefully, and hugged them close, seemingly afraid
he'd lose them.  The baseball cap, however, stayed right where it was.
     "Let's go, then." Ophelia stated.
     "Oh, let's."  Lexington smiled.  He held out his hand.  Ophelia stared
at him, and gingerly took it.  The two of them leapt off of the balcony
together, heading for the Rockaway.

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

Chapter One

          A Kiss From A Rose (Goliath and Elisa)

Niagara Falls, Ontario
8:00 p.m., EDT

     The falls were spectacular.
     As the evening darkened, the cascading torrents of water remained
thundering throughout the night.  The lights were turned on, as well.  From
the Canadian side, huge spotlights had been turned on the waterfalls. They
bathed the tremendous Canadian side of the waterfalls, the Horseshoe Falls,
as they were known,  with a spectrum of dazzling colour, from red to
purple.  A white light was trained on the much smaller, yet still
impressive American Falls, giving them a glowing, ethereal quality.
Hundreds of humans were milling about on both sides of the border, staring
at the falls.
     And, on the top of the overlooking Skylon Tower, on the Canadian side,
two less regular people watched, as well.
     Elisa Maza, lost in the faraway majesty of the falls, stared silently
from the top of the tower.  She sighed deeply, and nestled lovingly into
the crook of Goliath's arm.
     "This is beautiful."  she sighed.  "This is one of the best ideas
we've ever had, Goliath; coming up here for a weekend."
     "It is beautiful."  Goliath agreed.  He ran his talons through her
long, dark, silky hair.  "And there is no one I would rather share it with
than you, Elisa."
     Elisa looked up, and smiled.  Goliath was staring away at the
waterfalls, seemingly swept up by the natural beauty of the sight.
     "They call this place 'the honeymoon capital' of the world."  Elisa
pointed out.  "I never could figure out why until now."
     The two of them kissed, and stood up.
     "We should head back to Xanadu, now.  Xanatos was planning on calling
us tonight, to see how we were getting along."  Goliath sighed.
     "What are you going to tell him?"
     "The truth.  That everything is perfect."  Goliath smiled.  "Let's
go."

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

Private Property,  just outside of Wilson, New York (Xanadu)
8:57 p.m., EDT

     Xanadu, David Xanatos' posh upstate retreat, was nestled approximately
twenty kilometers away from Niagara Falls.  It wasn't marked on any map as
Xanadu, but rather it was simply marked 'Private Property'  The estate was
huge.  It extended for thousands of acres, most of which was carefully
tended forest.  The mansion itself, an opulent building, still carried
about it an air of rustic charm, that of quiet splendour.  It was the hub
of several miles of paved walkways, each lit with the soft, nonintrusive
glow of electrical lights.  However, if one went deep enough on some
trails, the lights would dim until only natural light provided travellers
any illumination.  These trails invariably led to the capes, overlooking
the huge expanse of Lake Ontario.  On a quiet, moonlit night, it could be
said it was one of the most serene places on the face of the earth.
     Goliath landed on the driveway just in front of the mansion.  He let
Elisa out of his arms, and she softly stepped onto the asphalt.
     "The only way to travel."  Elisa sighed dreamily.
     She and Goliath walked up the steps, and entered into the mansion.
Elisa took off her coat and her sneakers.  Goliath watched her amusedly,
thinking back to when they had first arrived here last night.
     Xanatos had provided for one of his helicopter pilots to take them to
the area.  They had arrived, and immediately made themselves at home.
Elisa had made dinner from the foodstores in the kitchen...they had asked
for all of Xanadu's staff to be sent home for the week-end, just for the
solitude...and they had spent the night simply talking, walking the trails,
planning on perhaps going to see Niagara Falls the next night.
     Well, that had happened.  Tomorrow night, the pilot would fly in from
the Eyrie, and Goliath and Elisa would return to New York City.  However,
for tonight, it was simply the two of them.  And Goliath wanted to make it
an evening to remember.
     Elisa walked into the huge den, and collapsed comfortably on the
couch.
     "I almost forgot."  she grinned as she scrunched over to one side.
"You're here too.  You're so inconspicuous standing in the porch that I
didn't even notice you."
     "Oh really?"  Goliath smiled.  He walked over to the couch, and sat
down.  Elisa frowned seriously, and smacked him with a pillow.
     "Now THAT does it."  Goliath growled, and he picked up the pillow.
     "No, Goliath!"  Elisa squealed as he whacked her.  "Ouch!  Stop it!"
     "I believe the saying is 'What goes around, comes around', isn't it?"
Goliath asked sweetly.
     "All right, all right.  No more pillow fights."  Elisa laughed.
     She sat back down.  "I wonder how things are going back home tonight.
Hudson should be picking up Captain Chavez for their date soon..."
     "I can't believe you did that."  Goliath grinned.  "The look on his
face was priceless, when you suggested it."
     "I don't even know what I was thinking.  I remembered him saying
something about wanting to see 'Phantom' sometime...you know, after they
had that special on it on 'Entertainment Tonight'."  Elisa smiled.  "And
then, at work the next night, I saw Captain Chavez with the tickets, and
the idea just came to me.  But I don't think it's a bad thing.  I mean,
they have a lot of similar interests..."
     "Elisa,"  Goliath frowned, and he held her chin gently.  "We aren't
here to talk of Hudson.  Tonight, we can just concentrate on us."
     Elisa looked at him, and her grin widened.  "You're right.  This place
is just so spectacular."
     The den was furnitured ornately.  Two crystal chandeliers hung from
the ceiling.  The room was panelled in oak, and old tapestries and
paintings hung from the walls.  There was a huge artificial fireplace on
the west wall.  It wasn't turned on, but it still looked inviting.
     "So, what do you want to do?  There's plenty of stuff in the kitchen,
if you're hungry..."  Elisa asked.
     "Where did you put that bottle of wine you opened last night?"
Goliath frowned.  "I'm not all that hungry."
     "I think I left it in the fridge.  I'll be back in a few minutes.  The
kitchen's miles away."  Elisa nodded.  She got up, and trod in her sock
feet towards the kitchen.
     Goliath watched her go.  She was so beautiful, he thought.
     If he was anything at all like the person he had been back in the
tenth century, he would have found the idea of falling in love with a human
repulsive.  It happened all the time, but such unions were frowned upon.
Goliath had never paid much attention to the idea.  After all, he had had
his angel of the night, so what others did with their love lives had not
been any of his concern.  But he had always known about the rumors which
circulated of those who dared to look beyond the species barrier, and of
those who had chosen to fall in love.  He never dreamed he would be one of
them.
     But Elisa was different.  She was one of the few people who took no
stock in what a person looked like on the outside.  She had offered him her
friendship those three years ago, and neither had looked back.  As time
slowly deepened that relationship towards the inevitable blossoming of
love, he had begun to see her less and less as a human, and more and more
as a kindred spirit.  A person who unfailingly strove to do what was right,
and who had a sense of morality and ethics few humans truly possessed.  But
her free-spirit, as well...her assertive personality...Goliath was
captivated by the many sides he saw in this Elisa Kathleen Maza.  More
frequently, he began to see it as a crime that she had been born human.
She would have been a perfect gargoyle.  The nights that they went gliding
together, she told of a complete sense of oneness with the sensations of
being airborne.  And although she never said it aloud, Goliath knew she was
mentally adding the words 'with someone you love'.  He could clearly
picture the two of them, gliding together into a moonlit night, free of all
worldly concerns, lost in each other's emotions and the sheer bliss of
being aloft in a quiet evening sky.
     She loved him, and he loved her back.  Their feelings for each other,
since being brought out in the open those months ago during the Avalon
odyssey and just after the Hunters' attack on the clock tower, strengthened
by the night.
     Now, when Goliath looked at the face of his best friend and lover, he
was so overcome with utter love and devotion that communication was almost
silent, transcending the need for mere words to convey.  It was the
strongest feeling he had ever held for someone, superceding even those he
had felt for his angel of the night so long ago.
     I love you, Elisa, he thought.
     She came back out into the den, holding two glasses in one hand and a
bottle of champagne in the other.
     "There's still a lot left.  We only had a little bit last night."  she
sighed.  She looked at the label.  "Rousillon."  she pronounced the name.
"Bottled in Carcassonne, France, July 1967."
     "When that was bottled, I was still asleep in stone, dreaming endless
dreams of the night."  Goliath whispered.  He popped open the cork, and
poured a libation into the frosted glass.
     "And I wasn't even born.  The great Elisa Maza was not to come for
another two and a half years, until that New Years Eve, 1969."  Elisa
smiled, pouring her own.  She set the bottle on the table, and raised her
glass.
     "To us."  she toasted, holding her glass forward.
     Goliath grinned.  "To us." he agreed.  They quietly clinked their
glasses, and took a drink.
     "You know what I was thinking?"  Elisa asked.
     "What?"
     "How all my friends from high school would be dying of envy right now.
I should call them up, don't you think?"
     "No."  Goliath shook his head.  "You shouldn't."
     "And why not?"
     "Because."  Goliath smiled wickedly.  "I might decide I like them
better."
     "Trust me, you wouldn't.  They were all pretty superficial."  Elisa
sighed.
     "If there is anything you are not, it's superficial.  You're one of
the most intelligent, profound, sensitive people I know, Elisa."
     "And just what do you want me to go and get for you?"  Elisa asked
sarcastically.
     "The remote control for the fireplace.  It's up on that shelf."
Goliath pointed.
     Elisa let out an exaggerated sigh, and got up, grabbing the remote.
She clicked it, and the artificial fireplace roared to life.  At the same
time, the lights dimmed, and Goliath put his feet up on the couch.
     "I was sitting there."  Elisa frowned.
     "Oh, were you?  I would suppose you want your seat back?"
     "Yes, I do."
     "Too bad.  I'm comfortable."  Goliath mocked.  Elisa giggled, and
shoved his feet off of the couch.  They both laughed as she sat down.
     "You've changed a lot."  Elisa grinned.  "Three years ago, you
wouldn't have joked so much in a whole month as you have in the last ten
minutes."
     "Three years ago, I was just awakening in a strange new world.  Now, I
am much more at ease with this time.  And I do have a sense of humor,
Elisa.  It just doesn't surface all that often."
     "There's so many sides to you."  Elisa stated.
     Goliath leaned in closer.  "I have many sides, yes.  And every single
one of them is deeply in love with you."
     They kissed, but then the phone rang.  Goliath, who was closer, leaned
over and picked it up.
     "Hello?"  he asked.
     It was the operator.  "You have an overseas collect call from a Mr.
David Xanatos.  You may press 1 to accept the charges, or..."
     Goliath pressed '1'.  "Thank you.  Please go ahead."  the operator
stated.
     "Hello, Goliath."  Xanatos greeted.  He was speaking very loudly,
trying to be heard over the pounding beat of Latin music in the background.
     "Good evening, Xanatos."  Goliath replied.
     "Is everything all right, there?"  Xanatos asked.  "You didn't...Fox,
get away from the phone...you didn't burn the place down or anything, did
you?"
     "Everything is fine." Goliath smiled.  "Thank you again for allowing
us to use it."
     "Well...Fox, put that DOWN...it's my pleasure.  The staff was more
than happy to work an extra week-end..."
     "We sent them home."
     "Oh, DID you?  Well, then, just try to keep the mess to a minimum.  I
won't keep you much longer, Goliath.  I had to make a collect call, because
Fox threw the direct-line cellular into the bathtub..."
     "What is wrong with her?"  Goliath asked.
     "One too many Sao Paulo Slings."  Xanatos laughed.  "I have to go now.
I was just calling to make sure everything was okay.  Goodbye."
     He hung up.  Goliath stared it the phone...Xanatos sounded as if he'd
been having a few Sao Paulo Slings as well.  He hung up the phone, and
turned back to Elisa.
     "Who was that?"  Elisa asked.
     "Xanatos.  Calling to check up on us."
     "Oh."  Elisa smiled.  "So, what do you want to do for the evening?
There's a hot tub in the bathroom."
     "Did you bring a bathing suit?"
     "Yeah.  But I don't have to wear it."
     Goliath began to look vaguely embarrassed.  Elisa laughed, and
grinned.  "Perhaps we'll do that later.  For now, let's just stay here for
a while."

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

     They joked around for the next couple of hours.  However, soon the
topic of conversation skewed off on a tangent, towards more serious things.
     "Elisa,"  Goliath asked, pouring himself some more wine, "have you
ever seriously been in love before?"
     Elisa frowned, and considered the question.  "A couple of times, yeah.
At least, I thought I was.  But usually, it always ended up that we'd drift
apart, and then it would all end."
     Goliath seemed to be taken aback.  "You drifted apart?"
     "We'd just kind of lose touch with each other.  Soon, we wouldn't call
each other, wouldn't go out of our way to be with each other, and then fall
out of love."
     "Gargoyles do not usually drift apart."  Goliath frowned.  "Demona and
I were the exception to an otherwise constant law; that bonds made between
a male and a female last forever.  It does happen that two mates would
choose not to love one another anymore; that the differences between them
become to great to ignore, but more often than not, once a gargoyle mates,
they are together for life."
     "Do you ever regret that you and Demona drifted apart?"  Elisa asked.
Goliath could detect a sardonic tilt in her voice.
     "Sometimes, I wonder what it would have been like if we could bring
her back to the clan."  he admitted.  "If we could save her from the
existance of hate and vengeance she's confined herself to for a thousand
years.  But my angel of the night is gone, Elisa.  And while I miss the
things we shared all those centuries ago, I have something just as
compelling here, in this time, with you."
     Elisa smiled, and sipped her champagne.  She picked at a bit of lint
on her green sweater, and looked at Goliath.  "Do you mean that?"
     "I do.  I regret nothing that has happened to me in the past three
years.  I cherish every moment we have spent together.  From the moment you
fell off of the building..."
     "You are never going to let me forget that, are you."  Elisa smiled
wryly.
     "...to this moment, here and now.  I do love you, Elisa.  And I will,
for as long as I live."
     He sighed.  " Although lately, I'm beginning to fear that we may
someday drift away from each other."
     "Why?"  Elisa frowned.  She moved in closer.  "Goliath, we love each
other.  And I know this is the strongest I've ever felt for anybody in my
life.  That doesn't imply we'll be drifting apart."
     "I know there's no reason to fear that, Elisa.  But I just...well, now
that I live at the castle again, we see a lot less of each other.  It isn't
like when we lived in the clock tower, and all you had to do to see us was
to go upstairs.  Now, you have to drive across town.  And I know you still
don't like Xanatos..."
     "That's mellowed.  I don't hate him anymore, although he still seems
awfully smug sometimes."
     "You should have heard him on the phone.  He'd been drinking."
     Elisa's eyes widened.  "You should have let me talk to him.  David
Xanatos drunk is almost as hard to picture as Owen Burnett in the cups."
     "He wasn't drunk.  But from all indications, Fox was...smashed, as
Whitbourne and Bonavista would say.  Anyway, Elisa, even though I know
there's no logic behind it, I fear the physical distance between us will
eventually lead to an emotional chasm, and that we will lose what we have
now."
     "I don't want that to happen.  Goliath, I know you seem apprehensive,
but believe me.  You are the perfect man, and I love you.  And if I have my
way, we'll never drift apart."
     She set her glass down, and took his hand.  Goliath smiled, and
lovingly caressed her long, delicate fingers, and they tentatively kissed.
     "Does that set your mind at ease?"  she asked, after they had parted.
     "Yes."  Goliath smiled.  "Yes, it does."
     She stood up, and walked over to the CD player.  She selected a disc,
and popped it in.
     "What are you doing?"  Goliath asked.
     "I just thought I'd put a little music on.  You don't mind, do you?"
Elisa replied, looking back.
     "Not at all.'
     Elisa smiled, and put the CD into the player.  She pressed a button,
and the speakers embedded in the walls flared to life.  It sounded as if
the music was all around them, flowing from all directions at once.
     "That's it.  I'm getting a stereo like this for my apartment."  Elisa
grinned.  Goliath looked at her, and nodded.
     They sat for a little while, simply listening to the music as it
flowed around them.
     "You didn't really think we'd ever drift apart, did you?"  Elisa
asked.
     Goliath ahemmed.  "Like I said, rationally, no.  But I guess that
lately I've been starting to think that what we have is too good to last
forever."
     "Nothing lasts forever, Goliath."  Elisa whispered, resting her head
against his arm.  "But I know we'll last for a long, long time."
     The song changed.  Elisa looked up, and smiled.
     "I love this song."  she whispered.
     Goliath listened for a second.  Then, he looked down at her small
form, resting against him, and cleared his throat.
     "Elisa, would you like to dance?"
     She looked up, and smiled.  "I'd love to."
     The got up off of the couch, and took each others hands.  Goliath
placed his arm across her waist, and Elisa placed hers on his shoulder.
Their free hands clasped, and the two began moving as one.

     "There used to be a graying tower alone on the sea,
      You became the light on the dark side of me,
      Love remains, a drug that's the high, not the pill,
      But did you know that when it snows,
      My eyes become large, and the light that you shine can't be seen?"

     Goliath smiled.  "You dance like an angel."  he whispered.
     She kissed him.  As their lips brushed, they drew in closer to one
another.  Time seemed to suddenly stand still, with only the soft music
gently playing in the background, seeming to comment on the proceedings and
add a different angle to the mood.

     "Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the gray.
      Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah,
      Now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the gray."

     "You are like a rose, Elisa."  Goliath sighed.  "A fragrant blossom
growing in the midst of a garden, that a man lovingly tends for, and wishes
to have for his own."
     "Thank you."  Elisa smiled.  She kissed him.
     "And the song is right.  The more that I fall in love with you, the
stranger I feel.  Like every fibre of my being wants to be with you, to
hold you..."
     "I think I'm going to swoon."
     "...to take you and never let you go.  Like being apart from you is a
punishment, another trial I must endure to win through, and be with you
forever."
     Goliath and Elisa continued to dance, becoming more and more
hopelessly lost in each other as the seconds drifted by.

     "There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say,
      You remain my power, my pleasure, my pain.
      Baby, to me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny.
      Won't you tell me, is that healthy, baby?
      But did you know that when it snows,
      My eyes become large, and the light that you shine can't be seen?"

     "I feel so special when I'm around you, Goliath."  Elisa revealed, as
they danced gracefully across the den, feeling the warmth of the propane
fireplace on their bodies.  "I feel like I'm a princess.  And I look at
you, and I'm just so overcome with loving you that I can't help but be
dazzled by it all.  You're so senstive, so caring and compassionate, that I
just can't help but fall in love with you.  And I have to say, there's a
few worse things I could imagine doing than being with you."

     "I've been kissed by a rose on the gray,
      I've been kissed by a rose on the gray,
      And if I should fall, will it all go away?
      I've been kissed by a rose on the gray."

     The rest of the dance was spent in silence, with the two star-crossed
lovers simply marvelling in each others gazes.  With a long note of
finality, the song ended, and Goliath spread his wings.  He folded them,
gently shooing Elisa in for one more kiss.  It was long, passionate and
deep, with neither of them wanting to stop.
     "A kiss from a rose."  Goliath whispered when they parted.
     They sat down on the couch.
     "That song was written about us.  You truly are my power and my
pleasure.  And I can't help but wonder if it's all a happy dream."  Goliath
stated solemnly.
     "It isn't a dream.  Otherwise, I'm feeling it too."  Elisa whispered.
"I've never had feelings for anyone like I have for you."
     Goliath looked at the clock.  It was midnight.
     "Let's go."  he stated.
     "Go?  Go where?"
     "Tothe hot tub."  Goliath replied.  "Which way is it to the bathroom?"

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

     The hot tub was almost a swimming pool in its own right.  It was
elegantly tiled, and ornately furnished.  The hot water bubbled up in lazy
jets to the surface, and Elisa was suddenly giggling.
     "What's so funny?"  Goliath asked, staring at the water.
     "It's just that once, a few years ago, the family all took a vacation
to Phoenix.  I remember the brochure for the hotel had a picture of a
couple sitting in a hot tub, drinking champagne.  I was just picturing the
two of us in a pose like that."
     "I wouldn't think that us posing for a cheesy hotel brochure would
have very much of a point to it."  Goliath grinned.  "I have seen how these
work before, but I've never really used one."
     "You just get in it."  Elisa smiled.
     Goliath gingerly dipped a foot in the water, looking like he was
expecting it to burn the skin of his toes away.  It didn't, and he relaxed,
half-standing in the tub.  He folded his wings around him.
     "Are you going in like that?"  Elisa asked, looking at his loincloth.
     "Uh, no."  Goliath frowned. He reached his hand down, ready to take
off his belt.
     Elisa nodded, and took off her sweater.  Her black T-shirt was on
underneath, and she calmly peeled that off, too.  She began to
systematically remove all of her clothing, and set it all aside on the
floor of the bathroom.
     She waded into the hot tub, and sat down, near a water jet.  Goliath,
who had also undressed, came in and sat down as well, looking rather
confused.
     "Is this all we do?"  he asked, looking around.  "Just sit?"
     "No."  Elisa frowned.  "You also do things like this."
     She kissed him, warmly, passionately.  Goliath's eyes widened, and he
drew back.
     "Goliath, it's just a French kiss."  Elisa explained with a smile.
"We've done more than that before."
     "Yes, but..."  Goliath muttered.  "Elisa, we've
never...mated...before.  Are you sure that you're ready, if it does
happen?"
     Elisa considered this.  "Well...I think so, yeah.  Is that what you
think we should do?"
     "I..."
     "Because now that you mention it..."  Elisa grinned, moving in closer,
turning to face him.
     They kissed again, and began to caress each other teasingly.  Elisa
wrapped her arms around his neck, and began to tauntingly brush her fingers
against the nape of his neck.  He began to breathe raggedly, and she felt a
soft, whispering touch at the small of her back.  His tail was the culprit.
Elisa moved her hands to his broad shoulders, and the two began to proceed
from there...
     "Elisa..."  Goliath gasped.  "I'm really not sure..."
     Elisa kissed him, and he suddenly was sure.  Soon, they were at the
borderline...the point where they had gone before, but had forced
themselves to cut it short.  He growled, and kissed her neck.  She let out
a soft moan, and began to run her hands lower along his chest.
     Almost without a second thought, his hands were touching her most
sensitive places.  She gasped in breathless pleasure, and returned the
favor.  Soon, he was on top of her, their hips slowly rocking together,
their mouths locked in a long passionate kiss, his wings enfolding her.
And then, it all truly began.
     In the minutes of timeless eternity which followed, both Goliath and
Elisa felt their awarenesses of each other grow, become stronger, and soon
became all that there was, all there ever had been, and all there ever
would be.  They both stopped existing as individuals, and became one
person, fused at the body, mind and soul.  In the seconds which stretched
on forever, up until time lost all of its meaning, each truly understood
the depths of their love for each other.  Their spirits soared.  Elisa
realized that in one swift stroke, all of her daytime fantasies were coming
true.  Goliath found it increasingly harder to believe that his most
private, most secret desires were coming up to the surface, in the things
he was doing to her.
     Elisa began to scream in pleasure.  Goliath seemed to delight in that,
deliberately slowing his pace, boldly taunting her.  They began to drift
about in the hot tub, and eventually, somehow, they got out.  They lay down
on the floor, and went straight from where they had left off.
     Time seemed to stretch out again, and passed in both a dizzying blur
and an agonizing crawl all at the same time.  His eyes were aglow, her
teeth were bared.  The moisture on their bodies began to mingle with the
perspiration, becoming yet another tangible extension of the event.
     After forever had passed, it was over.  They stayed for a long time,
simply delighting in the sensual touch of each other's bodies, lingering in
the wake of that tremendous moment.
     "That was..."  Elisa whispered, her eyes closed.  "Oh, my God."
     "Ssh, my sweet Elisa."  Goliath pressed a finger on her lips.
     She opened her eyes.  "You are incredible."  she gasped.  "I never
thought it would be like that."
     "It was magnificent.  It felt like in that instant, we were truly one
mind, one body, one soul."  Goliath murmered poetically, brushing the wet
locks of hair away from her face.  "We were one person."
     She grinned, and touched his cheek, feeling the set strength of his
jaw.  "Did you feel that too?"  she asked.
     "It was the bonding."  Goliath explained, sounding very happy.  "When
a gargoyle meets his true love, his destined mate, then their spirits seem
to join in the act of love.  That is how he knows who he is meant to spend
his life with.  And I am apparently to spend my life with you."
     Elisa grinned.  "You make it sound like such a chore."
     "Nothing with you could ever be a chore, Elisa."  he whispered,
tenderly kissing her neck again.  "Nothing."

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

     An hour later, they were back in the den, clothed once more.  They had
spent that time in silence, resting in each others company.  Elisa was
curled up softly in Goliath's muscular arms, revelling in the aftermath of
their act of passion in the bathroom.
     "I've never felt that feeling before."  she stated quietly, feeling
that there was no need to hide about her past experiences.  "I mean, I've
made love with a couple of other people, whom I got along really well with,
and I never felt that.  With you, it was like the rest of the world was
gone, and all there was was you."
     "I had always thought that bonding was a gargoyle event, only."
Goliath frowned.  "Of course, if it isn't, perhaps you were just not meant
to be with those others."
     She blinked.  "I don't want to pry, but..."
     "Did it happen between me and Demona?"  Goliath finished the question
before she could.  He sighed, and stared into the fireplace.  "Yes.  It
did.  But this time, the feeling was stronger, superceding the bonding I
felt with her."  Goliath frowned.  He drew her in closer, and she rested
her head against him.
     "This time, there was no mistaking it.  We are meant for each other,
Elisa.  And I would love to share in your life with you."
     "I'd love to let you.  And I will."  Elisa grinned.  She picked up a
glass of the Rousillon, sitting on the table.  She took a sip, and set it
back down.
     Goliath began to run his hands through her long, dark hair.  "So then
you'll have me?"
     "Have you?  What do you mean?"
     "As my bonded mate, forever."  Goliath whispered.  "You'll allow me to
be a part of you, and in return, you shall become a part of me."
     Elisa stared at him.  "Oh, my God.  You're serious, aren't you?"
     "More serious than I ever have been in all of my life."  Goliath
smiled wistfully.  He glanced at the clock.  It was now two in the morning.
"I want you to be with me forever.  I love you."
     Elisa took in the gravity of what he was saying.  She didn't even
realize it, but she was crying.
     "Yes."  she whispered.  "Yes, I will."
     Goliath's face beamed.  He smiled, and moved in closer.  They kissed
again, and settled on the couch, sharing their spirits once more.
     "I love you with all of my heart, Elisa."  Goliath stated.  "And I
promise I'll make you happy."
     "You already are."  Elisa replied, kissing him back again.
     Neither of them said a word for a long, long time...they simply stared
at each other, letting their emotions do the talking.  The slience of the
room was deafening.  On the mantle, overlooking the fireplace, was a
bouquet of flowers.  There was a rose in it, and as things went on that
night, the rose's petals seemed to grow brighter and brighter, and widen
like a lovestruck maiden's smile.

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

Chapter Two

          Living In Paradise (Broadway and Angela)

Castle Wyvern
8:00 p.m., EDT

     Angela's mouth dropped the instant she saw the table.
     It was luxuriously set.  A spotless white linen tablecloth had been
thrown over the kitchen table.  There were two place settings, each using
the Xanatos' finest china.  Two sparkling golden candle holders sat
demurely on the table, each holding a fragrant, unlit candle.
     Angela turned around.  Broadway was there, smiling widely.
     "If madame would just take her seat, we would be happy to serve
madame."  Broadway grinned, gently shooing her to the table.  She sat,
giggling, folding her hands upon her lap.
     Broadway gave her a small kiss, and walked back over to the counter.
He was making a salad.
     "This is lovely, Broadway."  Angela noted.
     Broadway looked up, pausing from ripping apart a head of lettuce.  "I
thought you'd like it.  I hope you'll like the food as much.  I spent three
days finding all the recipes."
     "I suspect I will."  Angela grinned.  "Whatever you have cooking in
the oven smells wonderful."
     Broadway grinned.  "That's the surprise."  He dumped the lettuce into
a bowl filled with other vegetables, and began to churn it.  Soon, the
salad was ready, and he walked over with it proudly.
     Angela took the two salad spoons, and doled out a fairly large helping
of the vegetable potpourri.  Broadway shut off the lights in the kitchen,
and took a book of matches from the counter.  Then, he lit the two candles.
     Angela picked up her fork, and delicately speared an olive.  As she
popped it into her mouth, Broadway was there, leaning down and kissing her.
     "I love you."  he grinned.
     "I love this salad."  Angela smirked, touching her nose to his.
"Aren't you having any?"
     "In a minute.  I have a bit of chicken soup cooking for Bonnie, and I
want to take it out to him.  In the meanwhile..."  Broadway smiled.  He
walked over to a wall panel, and pressed a button.  At that instant, quiet
violin music filled the air.
     "There's speakers in the kitchen, hooked up to the CD player in the
games room.  I have some music playing on the player in there."  Broadway
explained.  He walked over to the range, and dished out a bit of chicken
soup into a bowl.  "I'll be right back."
     He left the kitchen, heading for the TV room.  Angela ate a bit more
salad, and looked around the room.  It was sparingly decorated...this was
only the informal dining room.  They had not wanted to use the big huge
one, if only because it seemed too impersonal.  They didn't want to have to
spend the evening shouting at each other from opposite ends of the table.
     Broadway came back in.  "Bonavista Mulder's still in there, watching
away.  I think he has a crush on Gillian Anderson."  he muttered, shaking
his head.
     "It's the same with you and Julia Louis-Dreyfus."  Angela noted
casually.  "Every time we watch 'Seinfeld' together, the only time you
really pay attention is when Elaine's onscreen."
     "That is different."  Broadway grinned.  He sat down at the table, and
helped himself to a sparing amount of salad.  "Don't fill up on the greens,
Angela.  The best is yet to come."
     "All right."  Angela agreed.  She set her plate aside.  Broadway
frowned, ate one more leaf of lettuce, and set his own plate aside.  He got
up, and walked over to the range, and the pot of potato soup.  He stirred
it up, and took out two china bowls.
     Angela smiled, got up, and walked over.  She took his hand, and
tickled him.  He laughed, and nearly knocked over one of the bowls of soup.
He spun around, pretending to be angry.
     "Angela!"  he protested.  "You almost made me..."
     "I know.  That's why I did it."  she grinned.  "You made things too
perfect.  You have to screw up at least once."
     "Oh, really?  And you're taking it upon yourself to do that, I
suppose."
     "Someone has to."  Angela smiled, stealing a kiss.  Broadway grinned,
and took both her hands, the soup forgotten.
     They parted, and Angela looked at the soup.  She dipped one finger
into the pot, and took a taste.  "Potato soup!  That's my favorite kind!"
     "With leeks and onions.  I know you, Angela.  Everything about you."
Broadway bragged, ladling out a bowl of soup.
     "Okay.  What's my favorite movie?"
     "Love Story.  We watched it together on Valentine's Day.  Well, most
of it, before...it...happened."  Broadway frowned, thinking back to the
night Brooklyn had tried to kill himself, and unsuccessfully trying to
focus on his and Angela's aborted romantic evening.
     "Favorite song?"  Angela continued, crossing her arms with a sardonic
smile.
     Broadway chewed on his lip.  "New Beginning, by Tracy Chapman, even
though you like Smashing Pumpkins and Great Big Sea along with the rest of
us."
     Angela threw up her hands.  "Favorite drink?"
     Broadway hesitated, but smiled.  "Blue-eyed Blonde." he grinned,
punctuating each syllable with a pointing of his finger.  "And you always
like to have it in cocktail glasses, with a pink paper umbrella and a slice
of lime on the side of the glass."
     "I give up."  Angela cried, exasperated.  "How do you know so much?"
     "I did my homework, babe."  Broadway explained, grinning boyishly.
"Go sit down, Angela.  I'll be over with the soup in a sec."

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

     The meal went splendidly.  Angela devoured the soup, and even had a
second helping.  Broadway took very small bites, and only finished half of
his bowl.  Lately, he had been eating rather sparingly.  When the clan had
asked him about his apparent shift in eating habits, he had replied that he
just didn't see the point in gorging himself, and didn't see the harm in
shedding a few pounds.  He was even beginning to look slimmer, Angela
sometimes said.  Not that it mattered, of course, but still...
     The main course was just as delicious.  Broadway had cooked a chicken,
with stuffing, and had made something he called 'cheesy kohlrabi' to go
along with it.  The kohlrabi didn't turn out well at all, and neither of
them ate very much of it, but it was the thought that counted.
     Broadway cleared up the dishes, and brought over the big finale...a
cheesecake.  He hadn't made it...he had found it in the freezer...but it
was slathered with cherries.  Among the many other things he knew about
Angela, he had also figured out that cherry cheesecake was her favorite
dessert.  He gave them both huge slices, and the two settled down to eat
them.  Angela practically inhaled hers, and she was done before Broadway
had even come to his third bite.  Broadway stared at her incredulously as
she cut herself another piece.
     "What?'  she asked.
     "I wish I had a camera."  he muttered.  "Brooklyn and Whitbourne and
the others are never going to believe you ate like me, for once."
     Angela shot him a very sarcastic look, and he burst out into a huge
grin.  Once they were both finished, those dishes were taken away as well,
and shoved in the dishwasher.  However, instead of turning the machine on,
he walked over to a cupboard, and pulled out the bottle of wine he had
hauled out of the storeroom before.  He popped the cork, and walked over to
the table with the fizzing liquid.  He poured a healthy libation into her
glass, and another generous portion into his own.  The bottle was set on
the table, and Broadway took his seat.
     He raised his glass.  "Here's to you, and here's to me."
     "The best of friends we'll always be."  Angela added, smiling.
     Broadway's eyes narrowed playfully.  "But if, by chance, we
disagree..."
     "To hell with you, and here's to me."  Angela finished.  They both
laughed.  "I like 'here's to us' better, personally."
     "Well, then."  Broadway grinned.  "Here's to us."  he stated.  They
clinked glasses, and drank.
     Broadway set his glass down, and looked lovingly at Angela.  "You're
beautiful by candlelight." he stated solemnly, all traces of joking gone
from his face.
     Angela blinked.  "Why, thank you."
     She looked at the kitchen.  "And thank you for the lovely meal."  she
grinned, crossing her legs.
     "You're welcome.  Anytime."  Broadway smiled.
     "Where did you learn to cook like that?"
     Broadway thought.  "I, uh, taught myself, mostly.  I'm the only one
out of all of the original clan who can.  Hudson never even tries, and Lex,
Brooklyn and Goliath are just pathetic at it.  Brooklyn still can't figure
out how to make toast, and Goliath is the only person I know who could burn
water if he tried to make tea."
     "You taught yourself very well."  Angela noted.  "That was some of the
best cooking I've ever tasted.  Except for the cheese stuff."
     "That was a waste."  Broadway agreed.  "I don't even know why I
bothered."
     He looked around.  "Do you want to go somewhere else?"
     "Like what?"
     "We could go outside.  It's really warm out."
     She nodded.  "All right."
     Broadway grinned, and grabbed the wine bottle and his glass.  Angela
took hers as well, and the two left the kitchen.

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

     "Angela, do you think we're going fast enough?"
     Angela blinked.  She stared at Broadway, who was looking at her
worridly.  The two were sitting upon the parapets of the castle, drinking
wine and watching the busy city below.  It was a tremendously clear night,
and things were visible for miles in any direction.  New Jersey was visible
to the east, and planes landing and taking off from both La Guardia and JFK
could be seen drifting lazily across the sky.  In the skies above, the
constellations were actually visible, a change from usual, when they were
blocked out by the skyglow of the city.  But this high above the earth,
they could be seen to an extent, subtly twinkling away.  A soft westerly
breeze had picked up, and Angela's hair was softly rustling against her
face.
     "What do you mean, Broadway?"  she asked.
     Broadway frowned.  "I mean, we've been mates for seven months now, and
we've never had...you know..."
     "Sex?"  Angela asked.  Broadway blushed, and nodded.
     "Do you think we should?"  Angela frowned, raising an eye ridge.
     Broadway scowled.  "Well, maybe.  I mean, we're mates.  We're promised
to each other.  And we're of age.  Maybe it's time we did start thinking
about it."
     "Why have't you talked of this before?"  Angela asked.
     "Well, I thought that whenever we were ready, we would.  But..."
     "But what?"
     Broadway rubbed a hand on his face, as if exasperated.  "Well, just
before the others left, Lex and I were talking in the kitchen, and the
subject changed to...you know..."
     "Sex.  You don't have to be ashamed to say it, Broadway."
     "All right.  Sex.  The point is, Lex asked if we had had it..."
     "What business is it of his?"  Angela asked, suddenly insulted.
     "Angela, guys are naturally curious about that sort of thing.  You
should have heard the conversations we younger male gargoyles had in the
tenth century.  They would have made the barmaids blush."
     "All right.  Anyway, what happened?"
     "Well, Lex kind of...insinuated...that we were moving a little slow."
     "He has some nerve talking.  He's never even kissed Ophelia."
     Broadway sighed.  "Do you mind?  The point is, it got me thinking that
maybe we are moving too slow."
     "Because Lexington, the god of love himself, said so."
     "If you're going to make fun of me, we'll just drop the subject,
okay?"  Broadway frowned.
     Angela blinked.  "This is really bothering you, isn't it."
     "Well, yeah.  I mean, seven months.  Usually, when two people become
mates, they start making love that same night."
     "Considering that we became mates in the middle of that Ring business,
and that three hours afterward you were trapped in a maze of mirrors,
finding out about the traps set for you by the Servants of Twilight, that
was kind of impossible."
     Broadway scowled, recalling the memories of their quest for Oberon's
Ring seven months ago.  That event had retreated to a distant memory
now...after all, it had been half a year.  But he still felt periodic pangs
of guilt over killing Woodstock.  Sometimes, Whitbourne, Bonavista and
Carbonear would make an off-hand comment about their deceased friend, and
Broadway would have to leave the room, or else he would begin to imagine
the others' stares upon him.  His guilt over that event was mostly
resolved, (it hadn't been his fault, after all) but he still felt lousy
about it just the same.  It had been the first time he had ever actually
killed someone, and no sane person could kill without feeling some kind of
regret afterwards.
     Angela didn't notice his expression.  "Besides, it's not like we never
touch each other, or anything.  We do lots of things.  We don't have to
have sex, Broadway."
     Broadway sighed.  "I know, I know.  But still, maybe..."
     "Maybe.  When we're both ready.  We're still young, Broadway.  You're
nineteen human years old, and I'm only eighteen.  We have plenty of time
for that."
     "You're right.  Let's just drop it."  Broadway sighed.  He comfortably
wrapped an arm around her, and drew her in closer with his wing.
     "I remember growing up on Avalon, how the Magus told us all about
astronomy."  Angela sighed, looking upwards.  "He pointed out all the
constellations."
     "You should have been here a few nights after we reawoke.  Elisa told
us the world was round, and we all thought for nights afterward that she
was lying."
     "You actually believed it was flat?"  Angela asked incredulously.
     "Well yeah.  I'm originally from the tenth century, Angela."
     "So was the Magus, yet he told us the world was round, and that the
earth revolved around the sun.  He told us he had studied the heavenly
motions along with magic, and that he had probably been more educated on
such things than everyone else at Castle Wyvern put together."
     "What happened to him?"  Broadway asked.
     "He died fighting the Weird Sisters.  Or, at least, he went to sleep
inside the hollowed hill."
     Broadway seemed to accept this.  He took a drink of the wine, and set
his glass aside, next to the bottle.  "Did I ever tell you how beautiful
you look by moonlight?"
     "Many, many times." Angela sighed, contentedly.  "I don't mind,
though."
     "Didn't think so."  Broadway smiled.  His wing folded in, gently
pushing Angela in towards him.  She smiled, and the two passionately
kissed, the wine and the moonlight forgotten.

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

     An hour later, they were in the games room, playing pool.   The CD
player was blaring the Gin Blossoms in the background, and the lights were
mostly off, with only the bar lamps suspended over the pool table giving
any light.
     Broadway had his arms around her, whispering into her ear.
     "Zo, you take ze cue, und you hit ze ball wiz it..."  he grinned,
speaking in some unidentifiable accent that sounded like a cross between
bastardized French and German.
     "Like this?"  Angela asked, smacking the cue ball.  It rolled across
the table, pushing the 7-ball into a side pocket.
     "Vunderbar!"  Broadway cried.
     "Oh, stop that."  Angela chided.  She wriggled out of Broadway's
grasp, and walked over to the other side of the table.  "Speak English."
     "All right."  Broadway grinned.  "Hey, me girl..."
     "NORMAL English.  I've heard enough Newfanese to last me a lifetime."
Angela mocked.
     She set the pool cue aside.  "All right, it's eleven o'clock.  What do
you want to do?"
     "Do you want to go watch a movie?"  Broadway asked.
     "All right."  Angela agreed.  She reached for the switch to shut out
the light.
     The two gargoyles walked out of the games room, passing by Owen
Burnett, who was holding a clipboard and taking notes from the thermostats.
Broadway shrugged as he passed him, and the two made their way towards the
projection room.
     They got there, and flicked on the light.  Angela went to sit on the
couch, and Broadway walked over to the movie cabinet.
     "Here's one."  he called.
     She looked.  " 'Ransom'? "  she peered, reading the cover.  "Didn't
you already see that one?"
     "No."  Broadway replied.  He slid the tape into the projector, and
pressed play.
     As the movie played on, Angela rested against Broadway's shoulder,
seeming to nod off and go to sleep.  Broadway curled a protective arm and
wing around her.
     I'm living in paradise, he thought, smelling her sweetly scented hair.
Being here, with her, is paradise.
     He reached down, and kissed her for a long time.  She kissed back.
They began to kiss for a longer time, the movie forgotten.  Soon, they were
both lying on the couch, having never parted from the first kiss.
     It began to get a little more empassioned.  Soon, their tongues were
touching, and their hands were massaging each others shoulders.  Broadway's
hand touched where Angela's wing met her back, and she let out an
involuntary growl.
     "Whoa." he muttered, just before she did the same thing to him.  She
grinned mischeviously, and he reached up and nibbled on her ear.  She
almost gasped in delight and nearly fell off of the couch, but somehow
managed to stay in control.
     "Angela, I don't know..."  he whispered raggedly, as the pleasurable
sensations overtook him.
     "You said you wanted this."  Angela reminded him.  They kissed again,
and somehow Broadway's belt got unbuckled.  He blushed, and tried
unsuccessfully to stop himself before he reached out and began to undo the
laces on Angela's tunic.
     Even though Broadway didn't think it possible, things began to speed
up even faster.  Soon, they were both out of the offending clothing, and it
completely slipped out of his mind that the door was unlocked.  She was
touching his chest, and their tails intertwined.  Broadway kissed her neck.
They moved closer, closer to the inevitable event, and then...
     ...and then, Broadway stopped.
     "I can't."  he muttered miserably.

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

     Angela stared at him.  "What do you mean 'you can't'?"  she asked,
breathlessly.
     "I mean, I don't think we're ready for this.  You said so yourself, we
should wait till we were ready."
     Angela sat up, and stared at him.  "And you were practically all but
saying we had to do this, while we were outside."
     "But, Angela..."  he protested, propping himself up on his elbows.
"That was when Lex and I were talking.  I started thinking the way we were
doing things wasn't normal..."
     "We will do things however we choose to do them, my love."  Angela
frowned.  "Lexington doesn't have any say in that.  And there aren't any
rules that we can judge ourselves by."
     "But I'm not ready for this!"  Broadway cried, standing up.  It seemed
to sink into his mind that he was naked, and he hurridly donned his
loincloth.  "I'm just not ready, okay?"
     "Okay!  We don't have to.  If you aren't ready, I can respect that.
Maybe things did get a little too fast, there."
     "Oh, maybe." Broadway muttered, sarcastically.  Angela sighed, and put
her tunic back on, lacing up the strings.
     Broadway mumbled something as he pressed stop on the projector.
     "What was that?"  Angela asked.
     Broadway paled, as if he'd realized what he'd almost said aloud.
"Nothing."  he replied quickly, obviously lying.
     "Broadway, tell me.  What did you just say?"  Angela insisted, her
curiousity piqued.
     "I didn't say anything."  Broadway insisted, tightening his belt.
     Angela crossed her arms, and began tapping her foot on the floor.
Broadway looked at her, rolled his eyes, and sighed.
     "I said, 'maybe we rushed into this'."  he mumbled.
     "Rushed into what?  Making love?  Of course we did."
     "No, not just that."  Broadway muttered, unhappily.  "I mean the whole
mates thing."
     Angela felt the world stop.  She looked at Broadway in horror,
wondering if he realized what he was really saying.
     "You can't mean that."
     "I do.  Angela, I'm sorry, but...what if we just aren't ready?  I love
you, Angela, with all of my heart.  But I just don't think we're going slow
enough.  We need time.  And maybe becoming permanent mates so soon wasn't
the best thing.  We should have waited until..."
     "Until what?"  Angela snapped.  "Until what, Broadway?"
     "I don't know!"  Broadway almost yelled.  He was really upset.
     "So you're saying you don't think we should be mates anymore, is that
it?  Or you're saying we should just go back to being friends, until you're
ready for sex?  Is that what you're saying, Broadway?"
     "Yes!"  Broadway cried.  "That's what I'm saying!  I think we went too
fast, and now I'm not ready, and you're not happy and I'm not happy..."
     "Broadway, I couldn't care less about making love.  Well, I do...I
want to, because I love you.  But I said I was willing to wait until you
felt you were ready.  I have absolutely no problem with that.  In fact, I
kind of respect you for it, because it shows you don't want to rush into
this.  But if you think that because you're afraid to have sex, we can't be
mates, then I think we need to rework this relationship."
     "Angela..."
     "No.  You don't get it.  There's more to being mates than making love,
Broadway.  It also means being with someone you care about, and promising
to spend your entire life with that person.  We made that promise in
Seattle, Broadway.  Do you think that doesn't count because you're not
ready for sex?"
     "No!"  Broadway cried defensively.  "It's not like that..."
     "Then what is it like?"  Angela found herself raising her voice.
"What are you saying?  Are you saying you don't love me anymore?"
     "No, that's not what I'm saying!  I'm saying I don't feel ready for
sex, so I think we rushed into the mate thing..."
     Angela's eyes flared red.  "When will you get it into your head that
that just doesn't matter?"  she demanded.  She stormed out of the room.
     "Angela!"  Broadway called after her, but she paid no attention.  She
stomped to the kitchen, where the candles from their romantic dinner were
still set up.  Almost regretfully, she looked at the setup, wondering how
things had gone so wrong.  They had started out having a wonderful time
with each other, and now they were fighting.
     But still, she couldn't believe what he was saying.  That they had
rushed into being mates.  Gone too fast into promising themselves to each
other.
     Why can't he understand that I don't care about making love?  she
asked herself.  Why can't he understand that I love him for him, and I'm
willing to wait until he's ready?

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

     Broadway didn't go to the kitchen.
     Instead, he walked around the castle, and finally came into the TV
room, still wondering what it was he had done wrong.  Bonavista, who was
lying on the couch, looked up at him.
     "What's going on?  Where's Ang to?" he asked.
     Broadway scowled.  "We had a fight."
     "About what?"
     "Sex."  Broadway sighed, sitting down in the easy chair.
     "Ah."  Bonavista nodded.  He sneezed, and grabbed a cough drop from
the coffee table, popping it into his mouth.  He looked at Broadway.
     "What?"  Broadway asked.
     "Care to explain, my son?"  Bonavista prodded.  Broadway threw up his
hands in exasperation.
     "Why do you all feel you have to know?"  he frowned.  "Why can't you
all just stay the hell out of my love life?"
     Bonavista blinked.  "All right!  Excuse I!  Jesus, bye!"
     Broadway muttered something, and held his head in his hands.  "I'm
sorry.  It's just, that's how it all started.  With Lexington commenting
that we were kind of moving slow."
     Bonavista nodded.  "And..."
     "And, then, Angela and I started..."
     "You doesn't need to get into details.  Your loincloth's after being
on backwards, so I thinks I knows what ye was doing."
     Broadway involuntarily looked down, and had to smile in spite of
himself.  He got up, and ducked modestly behind the couch to fix it.
     "Anyway,"  Broadway continued, deciding he might as well spill his
guts.  "I stopped it.  I don't think I'm ready to have sex with her, yet,
Bonnie.  And she was saying that that was fine, that she respected that.
But then I blew it.  I kind of mumbled that I was thinking that we had
rushed into becoming mates, without quite knowing what it involved."
     "Now why the hell would ye think that?"  Bonavista sniffled.  "Ye and
Angela dotes over each other so much that it gets sickening.  My God, but
you two is so much in love that ye puts Goliath and Elisa, and Witless and
Delilah to shame."
     "Of course I love her."  Broadway snapped.  "I love her with all of my
heart, Bonnie.  But...I don't know.  I mean, the physical side of
things...we make out on a nightly basis."  Broadway blushed, looking
embarassed to be saying it out loud.  "So there's no real problems
physically.  But the idea of mating...it just kind of scares me a little."
     "You just aren't ready to go that far.  There is not a blessed thing
wrong with that, my son.  Not a sweet, blessed thing."
     "But...okay.  Listen.  Back in the tenth century, when two gargoyles
became mates, then they started actually mating practically that same
night.  It's been seven months between us.  And I start to think there's
something wrong with that, but I just can't bring myself to go any farther
than we've already gone.  I want to, but I can't.  I just don't think I'm
ready."
     "That doesn't imply that the two of ye shouldn't be mates.  Er, could
you hand me a Halls, there?  I just chewed on my last one."  Bonavista made
a face.  Broadway tossed him a package of cherry cough drops.  Bonavista
opened one, and popped it into his mouth.
     "Thanks, bye."  he smiled.  "Like I was after saying, just because ye
doesn't have sex yet doesn't mean you shouldn't have promised to spend your
life with her.  I mean, you loves her, and she loves ye.  You spends all
your time together, and ye does lots of stuff..."
     "But we're mates, Bonnie.  We're supposed to make love."
     "Who says that, my son?  Those gargoyles ye watched a thousand years
ago?"
     Broadway hesitated, and nodded.
     Bonavista sat up.  "Look.  I may not be the best one talking, cause
I'se never been with a girl.  I thinks I'se only ever kissed three girls in
my lifetime while I was sober.  Drunk, it's a different story, but they
doesn't count.  But just because they all did it that long ago, don't mean
ye has to be like that.  Hell, bye, it's New York City in the nineties.
Gargoyle traditions is dropping like flies, if ye goes by what Hudson's
after saying.  Names, recognizing your kids...Hudson told me that ye's
never did that stuff back then.  So maybe that tradition can pack off, too.
Maybe nowadays, ye doesn't have to have sex if ye doesn't feel ready.  And
ye's got the rest of your life with her, anyway..."
     "So what are you saying?"  Broadway frowned.
     "I'se saying just do what ye's were doing.  That sort of stuff comes
naturally, in time, Broadway.  Whenever ye's ready, it'll happen.  And ye
doesn't have to skip out on that other stuff ye does with her until then."
     Broadway stared at him, as if realizing something.  Then he groaned,
and leaned back against the chair.
     "I feel like such a tit."  he muttered.  "What the hell was I
thinking?"
     "It don't matter what ye was thinking then."  Bonavista sneezed,
turning his attention back to the TV.  "What matters is what ye's thinking
now."
     "Well, I know what I'm thinking now."  Broadway frowned, standing up.
He walked out of the TV room.
     Seconds later, he stuck his head back in.  "Uh, thanks for the
advice."
     "Don't mention it, bye."  Bonavista waved him on.  "Where's ye off
to?"
     "To set things right."  Broadway replied.

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

     Angela stared at the now empty carton of ice cream.  Elisa had exposed
her to the mandatory accompaniment to when a girl was feeling upset months
ago, and she had eaten almost the whole box herself.
     "Why does he have to be so pigheaded?"  she muttered aloud, tapping
the spoon on the table.  "He's more stubborn than Goliath at times."
     She closed her eyes.  To think that he had thought they should give up
on what they had become!  It boggled the mind.  Granted, it wasn't all that
usual for two mates to wait half a year before mating, but it wasn't
abnormal.  He just couldn't see that.  He was probably blinded by the
adolescent warrior-talk she was sure that the Terrible Trio had discussed
before she had arrived in Manhattan to mature them.
     But when it came to him discussing the prospect of them separating...
     She groaned, and pushed the box aside.  "Why can't he see that I just
don't care?"  she muttered.
     "Because I'm a stupid moron."  came the reply.  Angela looked up, and
saw Broadway standing in the door, his arms crossed, leaning against the
wall.
     "You aren't a moron."  Angela replied.
     "Yes, I am.  I thought that just because we weren't doing what all the
other gargoyle couples back in the tenth century had done, that we were
doing something wrong."  Broadway sighed, sitting down.  He looked in the
empty ice-cream box, and set it aside.
     "I don't care..."  Angela began, but he put a finger to her lips.  She
closed them, and was silent.
     "Let's not fight." Broadway murmured.  "I was talking with Bonavista,
and he helped me realize something."
     "What?"
     "That just because I don't feel entirely ready to mate with you yet,
we don't have to miss out on all the other things that mates do."  Broadway
smiled.  "Like sharing their lives with each other.  Letting them know how
much they care for each other.  And just being with each other."
     Angela found herself smiling.
     "Besides,"  Broadway looked up, closing his eyes.  "If we aren't like
the typical tenth century gargoyle couple, then that's a good thing.  For
one thing, this is the twentieth century, and for another, it means we're
unique.  Special.  One-of-a-kind."
     "Broadway..."  Angela muttered, caressing his cheek.  He smiled.
     "So, I'm a stupid fathead moron for not seeing that.  I was blinded by
all that stuff I thought was what was supposed to happen, and Lexington
talking about it earlier kind of made me obsess on it."
     "Well, we'll just have to see Lex gets his for filling your head with
such foolishness, my love."  Angela grinned.  They touched noses, and
kissed.
     "So this means everything's all right again?"  she asked.
     Broadway nodded, and kissed her again.  "Mmm.  I'm still not ready to
go all the way, but I think I know it's not necessarily a bad thing.  When
I'm ready for it, we will."
     "Well, I'm willing to wait as long as it takes."  Angela smiled.  She
wrapped her arms around his neck, and the two kissed tenderly.
     When they parted, Broadway stood up.  "So, if your evening isn't
completely ruined, let's continue on from where we left off.  I think the
tape's still in the player."
     "Sounds like fun.  I'd love to, Broadway."  Angela smiled.
     She stood up, and extended her hand.  Broadway took it in his, and, on
second thought, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, draping his wing
around her.  She smiled, and they kissed again.  They walked away, towards
the projection room, laughing merrily.

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

Chapter Three

          Night Life (Lexington and Ophelia)

The Rockaway Nightclub
8:00 p.m., EDT

     The two gargoyles landed.  They looked curiously about the roof of the
nightclub, looking for a way in.  Lexington pulled his human clothes back
on...he had had to take them off in order to glide, since they covered his
wings...and sighed.  The sounds of music...mostly guitar riffs accompanied
by a bluesy saxophone melody...rose up through the roof.
     Ophelia was nodding her head as she put her own sweater back on,
hiding her wings within the added deep pockets.  She pulled the hood over
her horn plate, and wrapped her tail around one leg.  Carbonear's jeans
were too tight to fit the tail in, so she had to resort to that, and hope
that the people at the Rockaway were really unobservant.  "I love that
sound."  she mumbled.
     "Saxophones?  Yeah, they're great."  Lexington agreed, putting his
baseball cap back on.  "There's a door, there."
     The two walked towards the door, and headed into the Rockaway.  The
stairs were fairly narrow, but they came out into a fairly remote section
of the club, which was good.
     They were on the balcony.  The music was louder, now that they were in
the club, and the plinking of a piano and the banging of some drums could
be heard along with the guitar and the sax.  There was a flight of stairs
on the opposite side from where Lexington and Ophelia were standing, and
two antique phone booths.  There were two people in each, and they looked
like they were enjoying themselves.
     Ophelia was staring at the phone booths in fascination.  "Those people
in there..."
     "I think those are the make-out spots."  Lexington blushed, pulling
her arm to a table.  They sat down, hurridly, noticing that nobody up on
the balcony was looking at them.
     "I think they're convinced we're human."  Ophelia grinned.  "This is
actually working."
     Lexington shrugged.  "When I'm right, I'm right."
     They looked out over the club.  The lighting was very subdued, giving
the place a dark, yet friendly, atmosphere.  Lexington was reminded of the
old gangster movies he and Broadway used to watch.  The place had paisley
wallpaper, gray and black tiles, and burgandy curtains for the stage.
Onstage was a five piece band, playing some traditional rock and roll music
with a saxophone accompaniment.  Ophelia looked disappointed that they
weren't playing jazz music, but Lexington found himself caught up in the
beat, and absently began to tap his fingers on the table.
     There was an ahem from behind them.  They both turned around hastily,
still acting as if they were doing something wrong.
     Standing there was a tall, willowy woman, dressed from head to foot in
black.  She was holding a pad and paper, and staring at the two of them
oddly.  But she blinked, and got down to business.
     "Well, hi, you two!"  she greeted as if she had known them all her
life.  "Welcome to the Rockaway.  My name's Tish, and I'm your hostess for
this evening.  And what will you two be having tonight?"
     "Could I see a menu?"  Ophelia asked meekly.  Lexington groaned.
     "Menu?"  Tish crossed her arms, and smiled amusedly.  "Well, I don't
know.  You see, Frank, our five-star chef, is pretty modest, and doesn't
like to brag about all the wonderul entrees we serve..."
     "This is a nightclub, Ophelia.  They don't have menus."  Lexington
groaned.  Tish began to chuckle under her breath.
     "I'll go and get you a drink list.  Do you need one too?"  she asked
Lexington, who nodded.  Tish's grin grew wider, and she sauntered off
towards the far end of the balcony, where the table with the selection list
was.
     Ophelia stared at Lexington.  "This place is fabulous!"  she sighed,
sitting back.
     "Yeah.  It is."  Lexington agreed.  He looked over at a neighbouring
table, where there were two girls looking at him, and giggling at him.  He
blushed, and turned away.
     Tish came back with a pair of drink lists, and handed them to the
patrons.  "All right, take your time.  Personally, I recommend the house
specialty, the world-famous Pugsley."
     She leaned in closer.  "Although, I don't know how gargoyles like
them.  Only us regular humans have ever had 'em before." she whispered,
still wearing that wide smile.
     Lexington and Ophelia looked up at her with an expression akin to
horror.  "We don't know what you're talking about."  Ophelia gasped.  Tish
blinked.
     "What's wrong?  All I said was..."
     "Wait, wait, wait a minute."  Lexington frowned.  "You don't MIND?"
     Tish crossed her arms again.  "What's to mind?  You guys like to
party, just like the rest of us.  No big deal.  And, if you're wondering
how I figured it out, your tail and feet are showing."  she explained,
looking at Ophelia.
     She waved around.  "Everybody up here knows.  They all figured it out
the second you sat down.  The thing is, you picked the right club to come
to.  Nobody cares.  Now, have you decided what you want to drink?"
     Ophelia paid her no attention.  She stood up, in full sight of
everybody, and pulled the hood off of her head.  Her green horn plate and
coppery red curls popped out, in full sight.  A few people noticed, and
blinked, but regained their composure.  Some guy actually waved.
     "This is just incredible."  Ophelia frowned.
     Tish set the pad down, and walked over to stand by her.  "It is, isn't
it?  It's the damndest thing, but I think practically everyone here is
really tolerant.  I used to wonder about that.  A few months ago, when all
the gargoyle fuss was on TV, did you guys actually think everybody hated
you?"
     Lexington walked over.  "The thought crossed our minds..."
     "Cause when we saw you all on TV, all Frank could think about was
getting you guys in here to widen his market.  Not everybody minds you.  In
fact, we've been kind of waiting for a gargoyle to show up.  We've been
unofficially recognized as one of the best nightspots in Greenwich Village,
and we figured you must have heard of us on reputation."  Tish stated.
Lexington and Ophelia stared at her, realization dawning on their faces.
     "So, if we wanted to, we could bring the whole clan here one night?"
Lexington asked.
     "As long as you're dressed modestly.  You may be gargoyles, but the no
shirt, no shoes, no service thing still applies.  Although we might be a
little lenient on the shoes."  Tish frowned, looking at their oversized
feet.  "Besides, if you were running around on the balcony dressed the way
you were shown on TV, you wouldn't last that long."
     "Why not?"  Ophelia asked.
     Tish tilted her head at one of the phone booths.  "They don't call it
the Meat Market for nothing.  What are your names, anyway?"
     "I'm Lexington, and this is Ophelia."  Lexington introduced.  He
gingerly took Tish's suddenly extended hand.
     "Tell you what.  Since you two are our first gargoyle customers, I'll
see if I can needle Frank into getting you a couple of free drinks.  After
that, though, you gotta pay."  Tish shrugged.  "House policy."
     Lexington frowned...neither of them was carrying much money.  What
little they had, Matt had loaned them.  But better not to look a gift horse
in the mouth.  "All right.  I'll just have a beer, then.  Molson, if you
have it."
     Tish reached over, and picked up her notepad and pen.  She looked
questioningly at Ophelia, who picked up the drink list.
     "I'll try that Pugsley, then."  she shrugged.  Tish scribbled that
down, but began smiling.
     "All right.  I'll be right back up.  Enjoy yourselves.  Go mingle."
Tish advised, heading for the stairs.
     Lexington and Ophelia watched her go, and stared at each other.  "They
don't care."  Ophelia whispered, excitedly.
     "You know, I think we could have just found the clan's new hangout."
Lexington grinned.
     Suddenly, there was a whistle.  The two girls at the table were
walking over, grinning wildly.
     One of them, a black girl wearing a fairly short skirt and a
non-prudish blouse showing off her navel ring, extended her hand.  'Hi!"
she greeted, enthusiastically.  The other girl, tall, and with auburn hair
and captivating hazel eyes, was simply grinning.
     "I'm Sasha, and this is Ramona." Sasha continued.  They were both
staring at Lexington, who began to grin, and uncomfortably step away.
     "Are you two really gargoyles?"  Ramona asked, a hint of excitement
dancing in her eyes.
     "Uh huh."  Ophelia nodded.  "I'm Ophelia, and this is Lexington."
     Ramona was looking at Lexington, seeming to be mentally undressing
him.  Ophelia frowned, but said nothing.
     "I thought you guys wore a lot less clothing than that."  Ramona
noted, smiling.  She seemed to revel in Lexington's flusteredness.  His
cheeks were flaming.
     "Uh, well, we had tried to go undercover tonight."  he muttered.
     "You didn't do a very good job of it."  Sasha grinned.  "Come on and
sit down, you two.  We'll give you guys a crash course in how the Rockaway
works."
     Ophelia and Lexington looked at each other, and shrugged.  They
followed the barflies, looking almost like puppies.

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

     Tish came down to the bar, holding several slips of paper with varied
orders on them.  She set them down next to the bartender, who was wearing a
really tacky bowling shirt.  He always had the same excuse, that he had
league bowling every night before work, but Tish suspected if someone went
rooting through the contents of Frank Ester's closet, that would be the
only thing he would find.  That, and gas station uniforms.
     However, the way he dressed was part of Frank Ester's charm.  Isadore
Thomas, the resident card shark, called it Frank's 'fashion victim
charisma', but all the same, he was well respected despite what he wore.
After all, he HAD invented the Pugsley.
     She leaned up against the bar.  "Guess who I just met."  Tish grinned.
     "Who?"  Frank asked, down below the counter, in the locked up 'Pugsley
cabinet', where all the ingredients were kept.
     "We've got a couple of gargoyles up in the Meat Market.  They looked
like they were enjoying themselves."
     "Bring 'em down after.  I want to meet them."  Frank smiled, looking
up, utterly unfazed.
     "It gets better.  One of them ordered a Pugsley."
     "Whoo-ee!"  Frank whooped, drawing a few curious stares from the
people on the club floor.  "Did you tell him how strong it was?"
     "It was a girl, and no, I thought I'd let her learn for herself.  I'm
only giving her one, though."  Tish picked up a tray.
     Frank hauled out the mixed Pugsley, and shook it once more for good
luck.  He took out a lighter, and flipped it on.  The drink ignited, and
Tish set it on the tray.  She grabbed the bottle of Molson, and a glass,
and nodded.
     "Don't let her get too drunk, or else Austin'll get her."  Frank
warned.
     Tish looked back.  "It's Ramona and Sasha I'm worried about, and that
guy garg." she smiled.
     She hoisted up the tray, and began to walk back towards the stairs,
weaving her way through the tables.  Frank watched her go, and smiled to
himself.

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

     "So, how often do you guys get out to party?"  Ramona asked
conversationally, stirring her drink.
     Lexington leaned back, and set his elbow against the railing of the
balcony.  "Whenever we want.  The wings make it easier to get around."
     Sasha took a drink from a tall glass filled with an off-blue liquid,
and grinned.  "Well, tonight's not very rocking here, but you should see
some nights.  Nobody ever stops.  Gomez is on the get-go from eight o'clock
on."
     "Who's Gomez?"  Ophelia asked.
     "The bouncer.  He's a great guy, but be careful, Lex.  If he catches
you touching Tish, you're gone.  Usually minus a few teeth."  Ramona
sighed.  "Here come your drinks."
     Tish came back, carrying a tray with a bottle of beer, a glass, and a
drink which looked like Sasha's, except for the fact it was on fire.
Ophelia blinked as Tish set it down in front of her.
     "You two feel free to roam around the club.  There's lots more to the
Rockaway than just the Meat Market."  Tish smiled.  She looked at Ophelia,
who was still staring at the drink.  "Hon, you have to blow it out."
     Sasha leaned over the table, and did it for her, and the smell of
burnt sugar wafted through the air.  Ophelia mumbled a thank-you, and took
a drink.  She frowned.  She took another.  And another.
     "It tastes like almonds."  she frowned.
     Sasha blinked.  "A Pugsley tastes different to everybody.  To me it's
always mangoes and cream."
     Ramona looked at Sasha's drink.  "Cinnamon for me.  Have a drink,
Lex."
     Lexington shrugged, and took a drink of the Pugsley.  He smacked his
lips.  "Cotton candy."  he reported.  "It tastes like cotton candy."
     Tish shrugged.  "That's the weird thing about it.  I had it once, and
it tasted like peaches." She waved, and sauntered off to another table.
     Ramona finished off her drink, and set the glass aside.  "So, who
wants to go cruising?"
     "Cruising?"  Ophelia asked.
     Ramona flicked her an impatient look.  "C'mon, Lex, I'll show you
around."
     Lexington looked at Ophelia, who shrugged.  He got up, grasped his
beer bottle, and stepped away from the table.  Ramona did the same, and the
two walked away.
     "There he goes.  The Meat Market claims another victim."  Sasha
commented dryly.
     "What do you mean?"
     "I mean, this is the singles part of the club.  Ramona's on the prowl
tonight, and I think she's after your friend Lex.  But from the way he acts
around you, I think you've got him wrapped."
     "You might say that."  Ophelia nodded, suddenly looking around for
Ramona and Lexington.  Her teeth began to grind as she realized what it was
Lexington had just done.  Sasha noticed her knitted brow, and smiled.
     "Don't worry, she's not into anything too serious.  The first night
they meet, anyway.  Besides, it's all in fun.  She probably just wants to
get out of here before Austin Grant shows up."
     "Who's Austin Grant?"  Ophelia asked, taking a drink of the Pugsley.
She sniffed.  Her nose was starting to feel fairly warm.
     Sasha looked to the other end of the balcony, and groaned.  "That guy
coming here now."  she muttered, putting her feet up on Ramona's seat.
"God's gift to women.  Put your feet up on Lex's chair."
     Ophelia shrugged, and did so.  As soon as her feet had left the floor,
a tall, blonde haired man showed up at the table.  He ahemmed, and smiled.
     "Hi, Sasha."  he greeted.
     "Hi, Austin.  These seats are taken, so you can't sit here."  Sasha
frowned.
     Austin pulled over a chair from a nearby table, and sat.  Sasha gave
an exaggerated sigh, and the two shot each other a dirty glance.  But soon
it became clear why Austin had showed up...for Ophelia.
     "So, you're a gargoyle, eh?"  Austin nodded, trying to begin a
conversation.
     Ophelia looked at him.  The Pugsley was a very strong drink, and her
senses were beginning to dim somewhat.  "Yep."  she agreed, tossing down
another mouthful of the Pugsley.  "I hear you're God's gift to women."
     "Sasha thought I was a pretty nice gift."  Austin grinned slyly.
     "And as soon as it was over, I went to get a refund."  Sasha mumbled
under her breath, finishing off her Pugsley.
     Austin stuck out his tongue, and she gave him the finger.  Austin
ignored her, and flashed a charming smile at Ophelia.
     "You want to go to the games room?"  he asked, inching in a little
closer.  "It's a pretty quiet place right now..."
     Ophelia frowned, and imitated Sasha's previous gesture.  Sasha burst
out laughing.
     "Come on."  Austin muttered.  "Don't spend your whole night hanging
around with Miss Easy here."
     "Miss Easy?  Care to say that again, Mr.
I-Got-A-Second-Belly-Button-Below-My-Belt?"  Sasha groaned.
     Ophelia looked around, and saw no sign of Lexington.  She frowned,
took one last drink of her Pugsley, and stood up.  "Come on, then."
     Austin's smile widened.  Sasha looked at her incredulously.
     "Girl..." she began.  Ophelia shrugged.
     "It's all in fun, right?"  she sighed.  "Let's go, Austin."
     Austin looked over to Sasha, and grinned smugly.  "So long, Sash."  he
smiled, standing up.  "Got me a date."
     "Oh, piss off."  Sasha frowned.  "You wouldn't know what to do with a
girl if we came with manuals."
     "I knew what to do with you."
     "After I explained it twenty times, yes."
     Austin gave her a neglecting wave, and walked off after Ophelia, who
had begun to head for the stairs.

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

     Ramona showed him the entire club.  They briefly walked into the games
room, said hi to the guy in there, who was sitting by himself, and left.
They went to the bar, and got into a spirited conversation with the
bartender.  Finally, they went out on the dance floor.  The band had
switched from a jazzy sort of music to a sort of rock beat.
     "Wanna dance?"  Ramona asked.
     Lexington shrugged, and set his beer down on a table.  "Sure."
     She wasted no time.  As soon as they got out there, they began to sly
dance, Ramona crouched down on his lap.
     "So what's it like?"  she asked.  "Being a gargoyle?"
     "I guess it's just the same as being human, except we look different
and turn to stone during the day."  Lexington nodded.  He gasped as Ramona
began to slide her hands down along his back.  "Uh, what are you doing?"
     "Looking for the wings."  Ramona grinned, indicating that wasn't all
she was up to.  She put her hand up the back of his shirt, and Lexington
began to look around nervously.
     "I think you should know I'm here with Ophelia."  he whispered.  "Not
that I don't appreciate this, or anything, but..."
     "You work out, don't you."  Ramona grinned, winking.  Her hand was
resting on his shoulderblade.
     "No."  Lexington stated hurridly, and he tried to wiggle free.
     "Relax, Lex.  It's not like you're on a leash, or anything."  Ramona
giggled.  "We're just having fun."
     She pulled him in closer, and began to perform a few variations on the
sly dance.  Lexington found himself staring, in spite of himself.  He kept
looking around for Ophelia.
     Ramona grabbed his hands, and placed them teasingly on her thighs.
Lexington's jaw dropped.
     "Lex, hon,"  she stated, "you have to lighten up.  This is all just
friendly fun."
     "Yeah, but...I'm kind of here with somebody else."
     "Not no more, you aren't."  Ramona grinned.  "Besides, I just saw her
walking around with Austin Grant.  Loosen up, Lex."
     Lexington sighed.  "All right."  he muttered, and he began to dance
with her.  Soon, like in Las Vegas during the search for the Ring, the only
thing he was thinking about was dancing.
     Deep in his mind, the guilt began to surface.  But he wasn't actually
doing anything wrong, he reminded himself.  It wasn't anything serious.  He
and Ophelia had come here tonight to have fun, and they were.
     Lexington suddenly got into the swing of things.  He grabbed Ramona by
the wrists, and began to dirty dance with her.  She giggled, and began
sliding her hands up his shirt again, only at the front this time.  He
growled involuntarily, and began to exaggerate his movements.  Ramona began
to breathe heavily, and began to slide downwards...
     "Ahem."  somebody stated.  Lexington bolted up like a bat out of hell,
his eyes widened, his clothes rumpled.  Ramona looked skyward, chuckling to
herself.
     The man, a fairly imposing guy with short black hair, an overbite, and
a silvery gray-black suit jacket with black jeans, had his arms crossed,
and had the faintest trace of a smile on his lips.
     "You know, we have phone booths for that sort of thing?"  he stated.
He looked at Lexington appraisingly, registering the fact he wasn't human.
He muttered something under his breath.  Ramona crossed her arms.
     "Sorry, Gomez." she mumbled.
     Gomez looked at her.  "Sure.  You say that every time I catch you."
He gave Lexington another glance.  "Our first gargoyle customer, and you're
already being corrupted."
     Lexington cleared his throat.  Gomez gave a brief flash of a smile,
turned, and walked away.
     Ramona ran a hand through her auburn hair.  "Meet the bouncer."  she
sighed.
     Lexington was smoothing out his slightly rumpled sweater.  "I thought
he was going to kick us out."
     "Nah.  He's not like that.  So, do you want to dance again?  I guess
we have to behave ourselves, though."
     Lexington sighed, and looked at the clock behind the bar nearby.
"Well, actually, I should probably go see if I can find my friend.  You
know, since I came here tonight to spend the evening with her."
     Ramona looked at him.  "What's wrong?  You look preoccupied."
     "Nothing's wrong."  Lexington sniffed defensively.  He grabbed the
bottle of beer, and wiped his nose.  He began peering around the club,
looking for Ophelia.
     Then his glance came upon her.  She was with some blond-haired tall
guy, seemingly bored to tears.  He grinned, and walked over.
     Ramona watched him leave, and smiled knowingly to herself.
     "You go, Lex."  she grinned, turning and heading for the bar, hauling
out her wallet.

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

     Ophelia had finished off her second beer, and was staring in awe at
Austin.  Sasha had been right; this guy was the biggest idiot she'd ever
met.  She'd told him so several times, but it just didn't faze him.
Apparently, his superinflated ego blinded him to the fact that he was a
jerk.
     "Want me to buy you another drink?"  Austin asked, noticing her empty
glass.
     "No."  Ophelia muttered.  She kept looking around the club,
desparately searching for an excuse to leave.  Deciding to go with Austin
(and only God knew why she had even done that in the first place) was
rapidly turning out to be one of the biggest mistakes she'd ever made in
her life.
     As she watched him prattle on about all the fun he'd had here, she
began to ask herself what had made her decide to invite this guy to be with
her.  He was a jerk, he was a big talker, and his conceit made her want to
scream.
     But, he was also the first guy to seem to pay any attention to her,
since Lexington had ran off with Ramona.  Ophelia had looked at them
dancing together once, and saw her sliding her hand up and down along his
back, and his eyes beginning to cast a faint glow.  She had been grinding
her teeth ever since.
     Well, fine, she thought to herself.  If he can run off with her, I can
go out on my own, too.  Nevermind the guy's a creep.  There's more people
here than just him.
     Austin made a dramatic wave of his hand, pointing at the band, who
were apparently taking a breather.  They were all at the bar, drinking.  In
fact, one of them was talking it up with Ramona.
     Ophelia blinked, and began to look for Lexington.  He wasn't anywhere
near the bar...
     There was a tap on her shoulder, and she jumped, startled.  She spun
around, and saw Lexington, who was grinning.
     "Oh, hello."  she greeted coldly.  "Where's your date?"
     Lexington blinked.  "What?"
     Austin looked at him disgustedly.  "Excuse me, buddy, but the lady and
I are in the middle of a conversation..."
     "No, we're not."  Ophelia sighed.  "Go away, Austin."
     This time, it was Austin's turn to blink.  "WHAT?"  he asked
incredulously.
     "Go away."  Ophelia frowned, slamming her glass down.  Lexington began
to chuckle.
     "Listen, I..."
     "Come on, Lex."  Ophelia groaned, standing up.  Austin began to
stammer.  She began to walk away.  Lexington followed, grinning.
     "Love 'em, and leave 'em?"  Lexington asked, sweetly.  He was in a
great mood, and Ophelia suddenly wanted to smack him.
     "You have some nerve talking."  she stated, a little too loudly.
"Considering the way you were just dancing with Ramona a few minutes ago."
     "That was nothing."  Lexington frowned.  Then, suddenly he noticed the
glint of anger in her eyes.
     "Oh, no.  Ophelia, you don't think I was seriously after her, now, do
you?"
     "Think?  Why would I think?  She was just trying to get all of your
clothes off in the middle of the dance floor..."
     "Ophelia, I think you've had enough to drink..." Lexington frowned.
     "Again, you have some nerve talking.  Considering the way you were
drinking up a storm when we were in Newfoundland..."
     "That was seven months ago."  Lexington pointed out.  Ophelia frowned,
and seemed to consider this, but she was still angry at him.
     "Still, I can drink as much as I want.  And I'm not drunk, so get that
silly idea out of your head."
     "I never said you were.  Let's forget it, Ophelia.  Listen, I feel
kind of bad for leaving you like that, so when the band comes on, do you
want to dance?"
     "What, did you tire Ramona out?"  Ophelia remarked.  A few people were
listening to the scene with passive interest.
     "Ophelia, could you quiet down a bit?"  Lexington hissed.
     "No, I won't!  Now you listen to me.  We were supposed to come here
together tonight to have a fun time, and you went and ran off with that
girl.  So now, if you can do it, I can too."
     Against all her better judgement, and more out of a need to make
Lexington jealous than anything else, she called Austin back over.  He
frowned, and sauntered over.
     "What?"  he asked.
     "When the band gets up, we're dancing."  Ophelia reported.  "Sound
good?"
     Austin blinked.  "O...kay..." he repeated slowly.  Lexington threw up
his hands.  Ophelia shot a very smug look at him.
     The band finished their drinks, and walked back up onto the stage.
The man in the silvery jacket, the bouncer, who obviously doubled as the
emcee, got up with them.
     "Well, they're back.  Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it for the
Rockaway's musical guests this evening, all the way from Garden City, Long
Island...Paper Soul!"