Renegade Fey:

Strategic Undertakings

By: Gargress

Gargress@yahoo.com

Started June 8, 2001 @ 12:19 am

Finished August 18, 2001 @ 1:54 am

Disclaimer: Original Gargoyles anything belongs to Disney. Any other original anythings belong to me.

Accolades & Acknowledgements: Kelly, this is a big thank you to you! I could not have written any of my stories without your beta-reading and ever-truthful comments. You’re one of my best friends and I thank you once again for being the one to tell me the hard truth when something truly stunk. =D Jennifer, you helped with the title. Kudos to you! Jermaine, I definitely thank you for listening to my constant ramblings about anything Garg-related. You put up with it; you’re a doll. =)

Feedback: Thank you to those who have sent it, it means the world and more to a fanfic writer like myself =), and for those you haven’t sent feedback: send, send, send! ;p

Well, if I forgot anything or anyone, sorry. It’s late, and I’m bushed. So on with the story…

***

Anea Yolen dropped the pen she held on her desk and immediately screwed her eyes shut in a vain attempt to blot out an oncoming migraine. She slowly rubbed her temples, thinking on how her little sojourn in Avalon had completely thrown her life off-track. Almost two weeks worth of work was backed up on her desk—reports from R & D, higher-ups wanting a heads-up, even the occasional comp-illiterate’s complaint—the situation was just plain chaotic! Anea furiously rubbed her stinging eyes as tears threatened to spill.

Someone cleared their throat, which made Anea jump in her seat. She let out a half-hearted laugh when she saw who it was. "Owen Burnett, you never cease to amaze me," Anea commented quietly, resting her cheek in her palm.

David Xanatos’ personal assistant merely regarded the cluttered desk and its frazzled owner before him, making a simple observation. "Normally, an employee who has begun working overtime, as you have, is commended, but in your case Ms. Yolen, please go home."

She cocked an eyebrow, a tired smile playing about her lips. "Are you throwing me out, Mr. Burnett?"

"With all due respect, Ms. Yolen—you look a mess."

"I’m wounded, really," she replied, smiling a bit, but then she just sighed tiredly. Anea checked her watch and blinked her blood-shot eyes. "Damnation but it’s late," she grumbled, rubbing at her eyes and face again.

Owen approached and picked up a random manila folder. He glanced at the contents and frowned faintly at the deadline marked on the tab. "Your impromptu vacation seems to have affected your work, Ms. Yolen. As your superior, I suggest against the like again, and that you ‘catch up with the rest of the class’."

Anea eyed Owen tiredly. "And as my friend?"

"Friend?" he repeated dumbly, taken aback for a moment, but then quickly recovered. "As a… friend," he experimented with the unfamiliar phrase, "I would suggest…" he hesitantly reached into the inside pocket of his blazer and offered a saffron-colored rose tied with a like-colored ribbon, "Lunch? Tomorrow, perhaps."

Anea’s stomach did a little jump, as a slow smile spread across her face. She slowly stood as she accepted the small token, and felt herself blush. "Is that so?" she baited, meeting his azure blue eyes with a playful twinkle in her own.

The man remained stoic but his eyes danced. "Talking is often said to relieve the stresses of everyday life," he said as-a-matter-of-factly.

She smiled to herself as she took in the rose’s scent. "You’ve never said truer words," Anea softly replied, then added, "I’d love to."

Owen Burnett, a man of few, if any emotions, allowed himself a small, if brief, smile. "Company policy does mention something on the conduct between an employee and a superior."

"Well," began Anea as she slowly rounded her desk, and came to stand before Owen. "I’m almost certain you were one of the people who wrote company policies, am I right?"

He eyed her carefully, his lips quirked. "Yes, I believe I did play a small part in that."

"Then I’m sure you’ll alert me if any of those policies are being broken," she smiled up at him as she slowly realized she didn’t mind his closeness at all.

"Of course I… will…" he trailed off, his face a breadth away from hers—

An incessant, high-pitched ringing suddenly sounded. Anea stepped back and looked back to her messy desk while Owen answered his cell-phone. She hazarded a look at Owen Burnett to see a small frown creasing his stoic features as he spoke quietly to, no doubt, David Xanatos himself. He, in turn glanced at her and she smiled back. She felt like a schoolgirl would with a first crush. The thought made her grin.

Owen closed his flip-phone and cocked an eyebrow. "Might I know what you find so amusing, Ms. Yolen?"

"Oh, um, nothing. Nothing at all." She fought back a blush, but the way Owen looked at her, Anea knew she was failing miserably. She felt like squirming under his knowing gaze, fearing that he’d read her mind. Although, the fact that Owen Burnett did not possess such powers calmed her somewhat.

They stood there, gazing at each other for a minute or so in a strangely comfortable silence when Anea spoke. "So, what was that about?"

Owen answered quickly enough, "The call was Mr. Xanatos asking to see you, Ms. Yolen."

"Oh, well, we should hurry up then," she said softly as she grabbed her suit jacket and slung it over her shoulder.

The executive assistant to David Xanatos slipped his cell-phone into one of his blazer pockets, and reached for Anea’s jacket. She smiled as he helped her put it on, and they both made their way up to David Xanatos’ private office, both standing comfortably nearer to each other than they’d ever been before.

***

Xanatos himself chose to not comment on the rose Anea held, but allowed himself an amused smiled as he greeted her. Looks like Owen followed some good advice, he thought. His personal assistant wasn’t acting any different, but there was a little something…

"Well, Ms. Yolen, good evening. I take it your unforeseen vacation took its toll?" Xanatos asked conversationally.

"Uh, yes, yes it did. I’m trying my best to catch up, though," she offered, smiling faintly.

"All right then," the CEO began, slipping a remote control from his pocket. "Down to business." He turned on the screen at the far end of his office, and all three people neared the display of a female gargoyle that had an uncanny resemblance to Maya.

Anea’s brows furrowed in confusion. "But that’s not me!" she exclaimed, then looked closer. "I mean, it looks like me, but yet…" she turned to Xanatos. "Who is this?"

Xanatos glanced at Owen, then back at her. "We hoped you had the answer to that question, Ms. Yolen."

"Well I don’t have a clue as to—" she suddenly fell silent, her eyes widening. She looked at Owen, "What did you say Dr. Sevarious did?"

Owen Burnett’s eyes lit up with recognition. "He is one of the best geneticists in the world, Ms. Yolen."

Xanatos jumped in with his own conclusions. "He must have taken whatever samples he needed when he abducted you and Ms. Yolen."

"A product of both our genes could have unpredictable side-affects," Owen mulled over, glancing at an unsettled Anea.

"A product?" She looked increasingly unsettled. "Owen, what is this man going to do?"

"Or already did," Xanatos added. "He just may have created something more magical than the two of you put together."

"He’s capable of playing God?" Anea asked as she paled a little, her calm ebbing.

Xanatos grimaced. "Unfortunately," the CEO said as the memory of his first encounter with Thailog turned up with distinct clarity. Xanatos turned to the television screen, which displayed the young female gargoyle. "Could it have been possible for Sevarious to manage to grow a specimen like this in such a short time, Owen?"

Burnett adjusted his spectacles to have a better look at the female gargoyle on the screen. "Perhaps. Sevarious never ceases to be innovative when dealing with clones."

"Clone?" Anea echoed, and both men turned their attentions to the young woman only to see her gaze settled on the screen also. "Wouldn’t I be able to… feel her somehow?" Ms. Yolen’s eyes flickered from the screen to Xanatos and Owen. She tried to explain further. "I am magical no matter what my form now. I might have looked human when Sevarious… did what he did, but…" She sighed, in defeat. "I should be able to feel something, anything."

Xanatos cocked an eyebrow as he leaned back on the edge of his desk. His dark eyes glinted with intense interest at Ms. Yolen’s question. He was surprised to hear Owen attempt an explanation without so much as a hitch.

"You were… weaker then. Perhaps, you will not be able to feel her presence unless this gargoyle is at a close proximity," the executive assistant reasoned.

Anea seemed to mull this over. "But shouldn’t there be some kind of bond? This girl," Anea paused to regard the screen, "she is apart of me."

"I doubt Sevarious grew the specimen from scratch, not in such a short period of time." Xanatos’ eyes lit up with an idea. "Maybe if we managed to meet up with her we could better—"

"I would not suggest such an endeavor." All three humans turned to see Goliath enter the office, a frown firmly set on his chiseled features. The gargoyle behemoth’s attention settled on Xanatos. "It seems that you have already breached the subject I wished to discuss with Maya."

The CEO merely smiled. "I assumed, since your plans were in limbo, I could pick up where you left off."

"So you’ve met this girl?" Anea inquired.

Goliath seemed to use all his seven feet of height to look down his nose at the human-disguised fey woman. "I have, though she is extremely wary of those offering her aid."

"Have you considered that maybe it was your approach, Goliath?" Xanatos suggested. At the gargoyle leader’s scowl, the CEO merely chuckled. "No offense intended, but you don’t exactly exude the amicable personality we need to win her over."

The lavender giant seemed to mull this over. "Perhaps. But how do you intend to ‘win her over’? And once that is settled, what are your true intentions, Xanatos?"

"Always the suspicious one," Xanatos smiled, "not that I don’t understand why. Besides, my intentions are completely on the up-and-up, I assure you. I only planned to offer this new gargoyle the castle as a refuge from the Quarrymen and people like them."

Goliath sighed heavily, as if trying to assess the sincerity of the billionaire’s offer. "All right Xanatos, but I will not willingly endanger my clan to scout out this newcomer. If she needs the clan’s protection, then she will seek us out, and I will extend it. Otherwise, I cannot cater to the stubbornness of a hatchling."

Xanatos raised an eyebrow at the gargoyle’s position in the situation. "I’m not asking you to."

"Very well then. Good evening Xanatos," Goliath rumbled and with that he was gone as quickly as he arrived.

Anea watched the gargoyle leader’s exit, and then turned back to Xanatos and Owen. "It seems you two still aren’t on good terms, I take it?"

The CEO grinned at that. "The understatement of the century, Ms. Yolen. He always says my name as if it were synonymous with pond scum."

"Not that you’re alone on that score," Anea reflected with a small smile of her own. "He doesn’t seem to like me much either. Although I can’t blame him," she commented quietly as she looked down and regarded the rose in her hand with sudden interest.

"Well," Xanatos began, breaking the sudden silence. "On that somber note, I guess I’ll end this little meeting. I doubt that everyone keeps our odd hours. I’m sorry to keep you from getting home Ms. Yolen."

"Oh, I think that in this case it was necessary," she replied solemnly. "But it is late, so good night Mr. Xanatos, Mr. Burnett." Anea turned and left, gently shutting the door behind her.

Owen pulled out his cell, and dialed a number on its memory. At Xanatos curious look the majordomo explained, "I will have the guard at the front desk escort her to her vehicle." Someone picked up on the other side and Burnett turned away to quietly speak into the phone.

The CEO couldn’t keep a knowing grin off his face as he turned off the surveillance footage of the new gargoyle. Oh, how the mighty have fallen, he thought to himself amusedly.

***

Brooklyn rolled his eyes at the woman cowering in the corner of a dirty alley. She’d probably screamed herself hoarse after that last shriek, which had almost left him deaf. The beaked gargoyle frowned down at her and snorted his distaste as he turned to leave.

Suddenly two very familiar shapes swooped down and landed in the alley facing Brooklyn. Broadway’s gaze flickered from the unconscious thugs in the trash heap to Brooklyn, and he scowled darkly at his banished rookery brother. Lexington’s expression, on the other hand, was neutral.

"C’mon Lex. Everything’s under control here, and Goliath doesn’t want us fraternizing with the outcast," the large, blue-green gargoyle said with distinct distaste.

Brooklyn scowled back at Broadway, and turned to climb one of the alley’s walls. He didn’t need to pick useless fights that changed nothing.

"Brooklyn wait," Lexington all of sudden said, his words hanging heavy in the air.

Broadway sighed heavily. "Fine. You can stay if you want, I won’t rat you out, but Goliath wouldn’t want us disobeying him."

"Since when did you become such a brown-noser?" Brooklyn sneered; he couldn’t help himself.

The larger gargoyle darkly frowned back. "Since the position for second-in-command came up for grabs, that’s when!"

Brooklyn turned and growled as his eyes flashed an angry white. "That’s a lie! I’m second and Goliath can’t take that away from me!"

Broadway let out a short bark of laughter. "Ha! He already has! Do you think that after all you’ve done that he’d actually let you keep being second?"

"What do you mean all I’ve done?!" Brooklyn countered, insulted.

"It’s not just now, it’s in the past. You’ve thrown yourself at any girl that even looks at you. First Maggie, then Angela, and look what happened with Maya! Since you can’t think with the head on your shoulders, what makes you think that you can lead a clan when you put yourself and the clan in jeopardy for a pretty face!" Broadway raged, eyes aglow.

Brooklyn openly roared at whom he thought was his friend. "Who the hell do you think you are?!"

"Someone who won’t mess up like you did!" Broadway spat, turning away to scale an alley wall. There was another growl and he suddenly found himself face down on the dirty alley floor in a choke hold. Lexington’s objections were merely background noise.

Brooklyn’s angry voice was at his ear. "You just remember that I at least had the courage to stand up to Goliath, because you obviously don’t." The red gargoyle’s eyes dimmed back to normal as he rose from pinning Broadway to the ground, and looked down at his rookery brother in disgust. "I pity you."

Broadway glared up at Brooklyn from the ground as he rubbed his neck. The red gargoyle turned and scaled an alley wall, and was gone without another word.

Lexington watched his rookery brother go and then turned to scowl at Broadway. "Somehow, I thought being rookery brothers met more to you than getting a high off of feeling superior." The smaller gargoyle climbed the same wall as Brooklyn and went after his beaked rookery brother, leaving the other to stew down in the alley.

Broadway slowly got to his feet, rubbing the wing-joints at his back. He was nearly bowled down by a raving woman who ran out of the alley screaming about monsters. The heavy gargoyle sighed. Goliath definitely wasn’t going to like this.

***

"Hey! Wait up!" Lexington yelled over the rushing winds of the sky. He struggled to catch up to his beaked rookery brother.

Brooklyn kept his gaze forward as Lexington caught up beside him. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone indifferent.

"To try and tell you not to listen to him." Lexington sighed, seeing that this wasn’t going to be easy. "Look, Broadway’s just a little…confused—"

"Confused?" Brooklyn repeated dubiously as he stared at Lexington for a moment. "Lex, he talked to me as if I was the enemy."

"I know but… you just can’t let it get to you, Brook—"

"What about you?" the beaked gargoyle challenged, tone and gaze unforgiving. "Where do you stand in all of this?"

"Listen, I’m not about to pick sides here… but I do think that what Goliath did was wrong, and Broadway had no right to say the things he did." The smaller gargoyle smiled slightly. "We’ll always be brothers, Brook. No matter what."

Brooklyn felt his frown give-way just a bit. "Look Lex, you’re better off not talking to me. Goliath’s having one of his power-trips and he won’t like it." Lexington was about to protest when Brooklyn shook his head. "No, don’t say anything Lex. Just promise you’ll be there when and if I need you."

Lex frowned but agreed. "By the Dragon, I promise."

The beaked gargoyle was somewhat startled by Lexington’s vehement reply, but quickly his reaction. "Good. Now you better get back to big and purple before he throws one of his fits."

Lexington grinned a little. "Keep in touch Brook," he said as he banked away from Brooklyn, and began on his way towards the Eyrie Building.

Brooklyn almost followed but caught himself. The Cloisters was his new refuge now. It might not have been ideal but it offered more freedom than the Labyrinth. Being subject to Talon’s dictatorship was more than the red gargoyle could stand. In a wild and bizarre sense, he could almost understand why Fang revolted. Brooklyn shook his head. Talk about weird.

Well, not having a clan to fall back on was strange enough. Hey, if Demona could adapt then so could I, the beaked gargoyle thought bitterly. Of course, Goliath was too much of a tyrant to admit he had gone too far. Brooklyn knew that something had to be done about his former clan leader, something to make him see—

The red gargoyle’s keen senses prickled. Someone was definitely watching him, and it could have been anyone. Brooklyn kept his expression neutral as he banked towards the Cloisters, a little farther up the coast from where he was. He used his gift for speed to quickly land in the courtyard of his new sanctuary, and rush to hide in the shadows.

Jane frowned. Where the hell did he go? She quickly lost altitude and came to land in the courtyard of an old abandoned estate. It looks like something out of Old Spain, she assessed as she looked around. Grayed pillars, once white, were reminiscent of Grecian architecture. Though the arches were clearly related to Roman buildings.

Right about now I could be finishing my second year of my architectural major, Jane thought bitterly. Damn Sevarious. She scowled darkly at the shadows just beyond the heavy stone pillars. The moon shone brightly in the sky, but failed to shed enough light to penetrate the shadows.

The white gargress draped her wings about her shoulders and cautiously began to walk towards, what looked like, a big pair of double doors off to the far left. She distinctly felt someone watching her, as if the shadows had eyes. Either way, she wasn’t alone.

A sudden shift in the shadows made her pause, wary of an ambush. When someone stepped out from behind one of the pillars, Jane was immediately ready for an attack. A growl built in her throat as her eyes glowed an unholy red.

The beaked gargoyle that had made himself known merely frowned at her, and crossed his arms. "You’re acting as if I’m the trespasser," he said with a distinct edge.

Jane let her guard down a little, her eyes dimming as she glared at the gargoyle. "You’re acting as if you’re the one who owns this place."

"Well I’m the only one living here at the moment, so feel free to show yourself out," he replied shortly, turning and walking away leaving a very befuddle Jane in his wake.

"Hey, hold up!" she found herself shouting.

The red gargoyle didn’t bother turning, let alone stopping to she what she wanted. "Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want any. Go away," he threw over his shoulder as he entered the double doors she was going for.

Jane growled to herself as she took a step in his direction, then stopped herself. Before the misfit knew what she was doing, she followed the other gargoyle, while muttering a few colorful curses under her breath. She soon found herself in a huge room decorated with tapestries, and pillars like the ones outside. She turned to face the now annoyed-looking male gargoyle. The guy looked just downright pissy.

"What do you want?" he asked irritably as he crossed his arms again, looking as if he could barely stand her.

Looks like he’s not a people-person, Jane thought sardonically. "I wanna know why you aren’t offering to help me, or anything. It seems like it’s The Thing to do for gargoyles around here," she replied flippantly.

The beaked gargoyle was obviously not impressed. "I finally learned that throwing myself at strange girls usually turns out for the worst."

Jane chortled, "Not popular with the girly gargs are you? Too bad. I guess not many go for beaked, horned and winged."

She didn’t think it possible, but the guy scowled more darkly at her. "Look, I don’t get many visitors, not that I want any. Snow’s been threatening to fall lately, so you can stay. There’s one rule: Don’t screw me and I won’t screw you."

Jane slowly grinned. "Well, since you put it that way—"

"You know what I mean," he growled. "I don’t need a knife in my back just as much as you don’t need to freeze to death. Just don’t bug me." The brick-red gargoyle turned and walked away without another word.

"Well, ‘bah humbug’ to you too, Ebenezer Scrooge," she called after him. "By the way, the name is Jane."

"Brooklyn," he threw over his shoulder, and then he was gone. Oh yeah, now this is a working relationship, Jane thought half-heartedly, as she turned to find another room to sleep in. Well, at least she had a place to crash; even if it was with a guy who could give a seasoned asshole lessons.

***

Oh yeah, I need a roomie just as much as I need my wings clipped, Brooklyn thought with growl. The female gargoyle in question must’ve found another room to sleep in for the day. At least she wasn’t shooting off her mouth at him. Brooklyn knew that she wouldn’t buzz off as easily as he’d like. He’d even thought of sending her to live in the 23^rd Precinct Clocktower, but then again, he necessarily wouldn’t wish the risk of meeting up with Quarrymen or Hunters on any gargoyle. Despite what this new girl thought, he wasn’t a complete jerk.

Brooklyn couldn’t shake the fact that she looked so much like Maya. He grimaced. That met that she might be fey. Another problem he didn’t need. The red gargoyle sighed as he munched on a bag of Cheesies. Somehow, problems found their way into his life and he couldn’t manage to stop them. The red gargoyle felt that meeting this Jane person was only going to be the beginning of his worries.

***

Jane threw herself onto a makeshift cot in one of the secluded rooms of the Cloisters. She flinched as the beat-up, old mattress stabbed her in the back with little springs and hard lumps. The young human-turned-gargress sighed as she put her arms behind her head and gazed at the vaulted ceiling. At least it’s better than soggy blankets in some abandoned warehouse or some dingy alley, she reasoned, then a wry smile crossed her face. Can’t say much for the company, though.

Truthfully, she didn’t know Beak-face well enough to judge him. Although, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know the guy had been through some messed-up shit to be holed up in a place as drafty as the Cloisters. Jane turned on her side and wrapped her wings about herself as best she could. She flinched and repositioned her head on her forearms instead of hands. Getting used to the talons was the least of her worries.

After tonight she’d get closer to finding out what rock Sevarious was hiding under, and cheerfully rip his viscera out to use for party favors—of course, that would be after she "encouraged" him to turn her back to normal. Being a thing that can fly, well, glide and throw a car did have its advantages, but… Jane sighed as she nearly curled in on herself to get warm.

Warmth, she thought ruefully. Something I won’t be feeling anytime soon. Jane fought back the lump in her throat, closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath to clear her head. Her eyes re-opened, glowing like rekindled flames. Everything couldn’t have been better before Sevarious. I wasn’t an Ace as a human, but I got by, she reflected. Always being on honor roll had gotten her into a good architectural college in Massachusetts after high school. The men were still just as immature and months of living off of pasta were abound. Lord, I didn’t know I could actually miss going to school. Well, after this whole thing blew over, she was going back; no doubt about it. And I won’t see any gargoyles or Manhattan ever again.

The golden circle of the sun glimmered as it rose above the stone windowsill of Jane’s small room, brightening the morning sky. Unfortunately, the brilliance of sunrise didn’t carry any weight with a one-and-a-half ton statue.

***

Anea heard a soft knock and looked up to see Owen walk into her office, a light brown overcoat folded over his left arm. She smiled in greeting. "You’re never late are you?" she teased as she closed out of some XE programming specs.

The majordomo merely glanced at his Rolex, and looked to her again. "I believe you are due for an hour-long lunch break promptly at noon, Ms. Yolen," he commented, watching her close and stack the mess of open folders and papers on her desk.

She smiled tiredly, seeming more worn around the edges than anything else. "Ah, but not all the world stops for lunch breaks at noon, Mr. Burnett," she replied with a long-suffering sigh.

"You had a longer night than expected, I take it," Owen said quietly.

"And an even longer morning," Anea replied as she rubbed her tired eyes savagely with her palms. "But you know what?" she asked, standing as she picked up her coat from the back of her chair. "I’m not going to deprive myself of lunch-date for a world full of people who don’t know the meaning of the words ‘thank you’."

"Very well then." Owen smiled slightly, and reached into his blazer for a yellow rose, whose petals were laced with red. He handed it to a smiling Anea, and offered the arm his coat was slung over. "Shall we be on our way?"

Anea smiled fondly at the rose in her hands and gently fingered the silken saffron ribbon tied around its stem. She looked up with a slight blush, and took his arm. "Definitely, Mr. Burnett," she replied with candor.

"Readily, Ms. Yolen."

And both were on their way to a quiet lunch at a small French restaurant, which was saved for such lunches, business brunches, and other special occasions. Anea was pleasantly surprised and charmed at how the sun lit up the whole room as it spilled in through large glass double-doors and windows about the room. A string quartet played soft music in the background as well-dressed people talked quietly amongst themselves.

A waiter pulled out a seat for Anea at a small table off to the side of the glass doors, the large plants and diluted sunlight offering a more intimate setting. Ms. Yolen sat as Owen seated himself, and listened to the waiter as he listed the featured wines.

"The Caymus would—" Owen began.

"Uh, Owen," Anea began leaning in towards her companion, and Owen did the same. "I don’t take well to wine—"

"If I may, sir and madam, recommend ordering by the glass… that is, if the lady prefers…" the young waiter trailed off.

"A few glasses then, would be fine," Anea later replied, and the waiter promptly rushed off with their orders.

Owen regarded her curiously with an arched eyebrow. "You do not ‘take well’ to wine?"

Anea looked up from the menu to answer. "A few glasses make me a little tipsy, that’s all. I can’t hold my liquor very well," she admitted with little embarrassment.

"Then you had no faerie wine at the Gathering?" Owen asked, surprised and regretful at the thought. As his former self he would spend countless nights immersed in the drink, uncaring of anything else except losing himself in his cups.

Anea seemed a little surprised at the question but answered. "I had some, of course, that was after I very nearly choked on a strong drink these funny little dwarves served me—"

Owen sported a slightly Puckish grin. "Ale," he chuckled. "Dwarves drink it like water." The straight-man sobered a little but still smiled fondly. "Their brew was always enough to send the most seasoned mortal drunkard into a tizzy."

The young woman across him laughed quietly to herself. "After that night I made a mental note not to accept anything to drink from any ‘funny little dwarves’ ever again."

The waiter approached and poured the wine. He set down the bottle and readied himself to take the couple’s order. "Would you like to hear our specials today, sir? Madam?"

Owen looked to Anea to place her order. "Uh, well, the Roast Duckling A La Orange would be fine…"

The waiter diligently took down their orders for entrees, appetizers and so on. With a smile and a flourish the young man retreated to the kitchens to fill their orders.

Anea glanced at Owen to see a hint of a smile on his face, which peeked her curiosity. "Something funny?"

Her companion regarded her carefully. "Are you certain you wish to know?"

"What’s lunch without the conversation?" Anea replied with a gentle smile.

"The waiter sparked a memory of something I thought I’d forgotten." At Anea’s apt attention Owen smiled a bit more, almost easily now. He leaned in conspirationaly. "Once, my ‘other’ half strolled into an eighteenth century French tavern as one of the Napoleon’s soldiers. Being a soldier of much military decoration would get a man free drink in any country, and this was no different.

I sat amongst other soldiers, who went on about romantic conquests and such, while entertaining the tavern wenches. One girl in particular, a waitress who was fair enough, caught my eye and I toasted to her with a grin as she brought more ale. It seemed that the girl in question was betrothed to a very domineering ape of a man who… well, he was present and chaos ensued."

Anea grinned at her companion. "You thought I was flirting with the waiter?"

Owen looked at her, first in mild surprise, then with a faint smile. "Well, I won’t start to brawl with the pup, if that’s what you’re afraid of. I’ve matured a bit since then."

The dark-haired young woman smirked. "So that’s why you felt inclined to drive Demona even more mad the night of the Mirror fiasco, right? Because you’ve ‘matured’?"

The majordomo shrugged nondescriptly as he hid a smile by raising his wineglass. "A small toast." Anea smiled as she obliged him by raising her glass as well. "To old memories," he said quietly.

"And to the making of new ones," Anea added as they touched glasses, and met gazes as they both sipped their wine. For a split second, Anea’s gaze flickered over Owen’s shoulder and what she saw made her choke on the bittersweet drink.

Owen immediately made a grab for her glass before it spilled, set it down, and offered a cloth napkin with a glass of water. "Keep drinking. It’ll stop the coughing," he said, reaching over to massage her back. That was certainly not a good sign for a toast.

As Anea took a deep breath Owen followed her line of vision, and turned to see a very unwelcome sight. The majordomo nearly groaned at the scene. Dominique Destine was having a business brunch with the local heads of a fledgling robotics company.

Owen turned back to Anea to see her still gazing worriedly behind him. He quietly cleared his throat to get her attention. "Would you rather we went somewhere else Ms. Yolen?"

"Uh," she refocused on his face and his words. "No, not at all. Let’s not let her ruin our meal. I’m sure she won’t even notice…" Anea trailed off but smiled a friendly smile and slipped her hand into Owen’s on the table. "She just looked," the young woman commented, and at the amusement reflected in Owen’s eyes she continued. "Well, I jinxed it but what could she possibly do or say about seeing us here. She won’t even recognize my face let alone the back of your head."

"If you insist," Owen replied with a slight smile. Mortal intrigues were never boring, that much was for certain.

***

A guard stood on either side to the entrance of the good doctor’s laboratory. The facilities were more than adequate, and Thailog never lost his patience when it came to taking time for perfection. True isolation was of the utmost importance; thus, the installation being located miles north from New York. The forest provided the necessary camouflage, and there’d be no stray gargoyles dropping by to muck things up.

Anton Sevarious grinned to himself as he carefully mixed a DNA solution into several test tubes. "Ms. Browning?" the doctor called in a sing-song tone. A slight, bespectacled woman looked up from a nearby table, where she was putting a few tissue samples under a high-powered microscope.

"Yes, sir?"

"How goes the research?"

Ms. Browning carefully attended the slides she held while she replied. "The cells are truly extraordinary in nature. No matter what viral infection I present them with, they sicken but still remain strong when compared to a normal person's cells. Yet, as you predicted Doctor, the cells are almost immediately eradicated by pure iron."

Sevarious smiled self-confidently. The fey were vulnerable to the stuff, weren’t they? His smile widened. "Has security located our fugitive subject yet?" he inquired, suddenly changing gears.

The lab assistant wasn’t surprised in the least and nodded in the affirmative. "They’ve had a tough time keeping tabs on the girl, but yes, she’s come along quite nicely. Contact with the other gargoyles has no doubt already been made, and her tag has been working without any hitches. She may even use her ‘abilities’ before the year’s out."

"Good. This test run will come in handy for our future, ahem, volunteers," Sevarious replied, oozing self-confidence. Truly, things were coming along better than expected.

Anea Yolen’s genes were exactly as enticing as Thailog made them sound. The doctor could simply just imagine what a being of great power he could engineer, all from just merging the best from Yolen’s and Burnett’s gene pools. A being to serve not only Thailog, but himself as well. Ah, but being a geneticist was a jolly good profession.

***

The sun slowly set over the horizon, and the last rays of daylight finally disappeared. Cracks slowly formed on the gargoyle statues perched on Wyvern’s highest parapets, and soon living and breathing creatures emerged in a great chorus of roars.

Goliath quickly retained the glowering expression he had adopted the night before. "And you allowed Lexington to follow?"

Broadway tried his best to keep his expression neutral. "I just told him that he shouldn’t, but you know how Lex can be."

The small olive gargoyle in question scowled. "Goliath, this is—"

The gargoyle leader tried to quiet the smaller gargoyle. "Lexington—"

"—ludicrous. You can’t be serious!" the olive gargoyle said in exasperation. "He’s my rookery brother," Lex glanced at a frowning Broadway, "and yours too," and then looked back to the clan’s leader. "Goliath, you have to see that this whole thing is just way too overblown already. Brooklyn just needs time to come back to his senses, that’s all."

Goliath sighed deeply. "Lexington, he has broken away from the clan, and thus has broken away from all the laws that bind us together."

"We’re still his clan, Goliath; his family. We can’t turn our backs on him when he needs us most," Lexington affirmed, tone strong with belief. Hudson regarded the exchange with keen interest as he thoughtfully stroked his beard. Bronx whined, uncomfortable with the conflict between his clan-mates, so Elisa knelt and stroked the doggoyle comfortingly.

"Lexington, it is he who turned his back on us," Goliath countered, his voice a gentle yet steely rumble. He knew that shouting would not convince Lexington of the truth. "He has gone against my command countless times—"

"Twice, Goliath, twice," Lex said harshly.

"Nonetheless, Brooklyn is a rogue now. He has chosen not to respect my wishes as leader, and so has turned his back on everything a gargoyle holds true to. As much as it pains me to say this, Lexington, Brooklyn is no longer with us, and we must accept that fact as such."

There was a sudden silence. Lexington was the first to speak. "He’s still on our side Goliath," the smaller gargoyle said softly. "Just because he doesn’t agree with you doesn’t mean he’s one of the bad guys."

Goliath wore an expression borne of the empathy he felt for the younger gargoyle’s plight. "I know, Lexington, but you must also remember that he has attacked without just provocation. That offense, compounded with the others in the past, is why I chose to distance him from this clan. So that he could perhaps think on where he had gone astray, and make amends."

Lexington sighed heavily, and regarded the much taller gargoyle leader with a steady gaze. "He’s still the Brooklyn we know. I talked to him. He’s still on our side, Goliath. As long as he’s doing his job and protecting whoever needs it, then, he is still on our side, he is still clan."

"A gargoyle can no more stop protectin’ the castle than breathing the air," Hudson said softly, earning everyone’s attention with the old adage, even though he addressed Goliath with a knowing gaze. "The lad hasnae lost his purpose, and in turn has not become like Demona; corrupt, empty." The gargoyle elder pushed on. "Sometimes the sheep stray from the flock, lad, but that doesnae mean they’ll not be returnin’."

All eyes were on Goliath. The gargoyle leader sighed softly, "Aye, old friend," and slowly turned to gaze over his protectorate, his clan’s protectorate. "Let us hope the wolves do not get to him first."

***

"Could you stop that infernal howling!" Brooklyn roared and covered his ears. His voice carried throughout the Cloisters, as did Jane’s torturous singing. Dammit all, Korn had never sounded so bad!

The screeching suddenly stopped, and Brooklyn sighed in relief. That was, until she started shouting the last few bars to a certain Linkin Park song. Seriously, this degradation of music had to stop! The beaked gargoyle growled as he fervently wished that the batteries on that girl’s portable CD player would run out before he would. The singing stopped again, and then, moments later—

"You know," Jane popped her head into the main hall of the Cloisters. Brooklyn did his best not to jump out of his skin. "It’s healthy to listen to some good music now and then."

Brooklyn glowered at her from his seat at a small table he had filched from one of the other rooms. "Yeah, well it’s unhealthy to listen to you singing ‘to some good music now and then’," he commented, returning to his reading.

Jane stuck her tongue out at him and strode on over, the headphones to her CD player hooked around her neck. She curiously looked over the red gargoyle’s shoulder. " ‘Now that she’s broken up with movie hunk, Daniel Dresden…" Jane began and arched her neck to read more. "… who would you like to see actress Julia Larsen date next?’ " The pale gargress chuckled to herself. "Good question. What do you think, Red?" she inquired playfully with a fanged grin.

Brooklyn merely flipped the page.

The gargress merely laughed. "I didn’t take you for a Peeps Weekly reader. What’s the attraction? The sex scandals or the glitzy girls of pop?"

Silence.

"Okay then," Jane straightened, a little peeved. "Since you’re no fun, then I’ll find someone who is," she said defiantly, lifting her chin as she walked towards the double doors that led to the Cloisters’ courtyard.

"Wait!"

Jane surpressed a grin as she paused feet from the doors. "Yeah Beak-face?"

"Don’t let the doors close on your tail on the way out," came the calm reply.

The gargress snarled like a cougar and was gone.

Brooklyn flipped another page and continued to read contentedly. He happily hummed one of his favorite Foo Fighters tunes, his tail moving to the beat in his head.

***

What an ass, Jane thought irritably, already feeling her temper cool off, as she glided on the cold winds whirling above the Manhattan skyline. Just when she thought they were going to get along too. Well, it wasn't her fault that Beak-face refused to break away from his jerk-complex. I bet that's why he was thrown out of his home, Jane concluded. Because he couldn't play nice with the other gargies.

She smiled sardonically, but then grew serious. Being a minor jerk-off didn't constitute getting kicked out onto the streets, especially so close to Christmas. Brooklyn didn't even make it into the big-leagues in that department. That title goes to the king of slime, Sevarious, the female gargress groused. She dove lower to take her mind off things by weaving around the skyscrapers.

The adrenaline rush that came from dodging buildings of steel and glass nearly made her forget about everything; her life on the streets, as an architectural major, then a prisoner, then an outcast, and now roomies with Mr. Doesn't Give a Damn himself. Jane sighed half-heartedly. Lady luck really spit in this gargress' eye.

This one's not as hard to tail as the last one, the leader of Recon 1 noticed. True, she looked a lot like that last one they were ordered to follow, so there was definitely a connection. Of course, the gofers never get filled in on the details, he groused.

"Keep your distance. I don't want to risk detection," the leader ordered. The pilot obliged by climbing in altitude and still keeping the target within tracking range. The tracer implanted in the gargoyle worked like a charm, but their orders were only to observe until further notice. So that's what team Recon 1 would do.

***

Jane landed softly on one of the terraces, which faced one of the wooded areas around the manor. Her gargoyle legs easily cushioned the extra momentum, and she regained a better balance while straightening a bit. She relaxed her glider-style wings a bit as she approached a pair of glass doors, over which the curtains were drawn inside. The light within flickered warmly, reminding Jane that she currently stood in a thin layer of fresh snow.

The young gargress attempted to see through a crack in the glass where the thin curtains didn’t cover. Her breath fogged up the frosty glass panes. She tried the gold-gilt, lever-like knob only to find it locked. Jane snorted. Of course it’d be locked, she thought ruefully, and so, she resorted to knocking.

MacBeth nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of glass shattering. The book he read fell to the hearth, forgotten, as he immediately was on his feet, ready for anything. What he found was the guiltiest gargoyle lass he had ever seen standing amidst broken glass.

"Oops." Jane gave him a weak grin, her pointed ears drooping a bit.

The stately Scottish immortal crossed his arms and gave the girl a withering look of disapproval. "You might’ve tried knocking on the wooden frame instead of the glass panes, lass."

The girl’s wings drooped a bit, giving him an apologetic look. "I’m sorry, I—well, that looked kind of expensive," her smile wilted. "I’m really… very sorry."

MacBeth merely sighed, and permitted himself a small laugh. "Dinnae worry yuirself over a few pieces of glass," he reassured as he turned back to the fireplace, which warmed the spacious parlor. Books lined the walls, and mantle of the stone fireplace. He walked over and leaned down to pick up an aging copy of Blake’s Songs of Innocence. He turned back to Jane, who now stood nearby. "So, what brings you to visit an old man on a cold night like this?"

She cloaked her wings, and offered a friendly smile. "I had to get away from my roomie," she casually strolled over to the wing-backed chair, he had been seated in before her entrance, and collapsed in it. "He’s a major spaz." Jane shot him a look of disgust. "Like it’d kill him to be a bit nicer."

The immortal king wore a look of bemusement, more than anything else. "And who might this lad be, then?" he inquired, seating himself in the other wing-backed chair off to the right of the first. Both faced the fireplace, making them ideal for reading in or merely staring into the flames.

Jane frowned into the fire. "Brooklyn the Beak-faced jerk," she grumbled. "You know him?" she inquired with a sidelong glance.

MacBeth smiled ruefully. "Aye, that I do," though, he was intrigued. "So you’ve decided to stay in the castle with Goliath, then?"

The girl stuck out her tongue. "Bleh! When pigs fly and worms have ears." She leaned over the armrest towards MacBeth. "He is such a stick in the mud. All noble and stuff. I can see why Brooklyn left the guy. Goliath has his own Code of Ethics shoved so far up his ass that he can’t understand Brook’s point-of-view."

The old Scot smothered a bark of laughter. Aye, that gargoyle could be bull-headed at times. Jane eyed the books on MacBeth’s mantle as she continued, "So, read anything good lately?" She got up and ran a talon down the row of literature, smirking a bit. They were all Shakespeare.

"Not really, no." MacBeth had a sudden epiphany. "Would you like something to eat?"

Jane turned to where the old Scot sat and simply beamed. "I thought you’d never ask! You’d never know how hard it is to scrounge up something decent in this town."

MacBeth merely nodded. "You should have taken Goliath up on his offer, lass. If only for the sake of your stomach."

Jane made a face. "Not a chance, Mac."

"Very well then," MacBeth submitted. "I shall feed you," he announced, walking towards the parlor’s door. He opened it and waited for her to pass.

"Nothing beats the service in this place," Jane grinned as she walked by.

"Ungrateful whelp," the old Scot added ruefully.

"Hey!" came an indignant protest from the hallway.

The Scottish king merely smiled. This was certainly going to be an unusual arrangement.

***

The lavender gargoyle nodded as he followed his brother off the battlements, and down to the courtyard where the unsuspecting humans dwelled. Neither rookery brother intended any harm, but even the humans laughed when they saw some of their own trip over themselves like drunkards.

Goliath's smile was nostalgic, but the memory roused a bitterness in his heart that he had long since kept buried. The wind whipped savagely at the lavender gargoyle's sable mane as he looked over Manhattan from the spot on the battlements that had triggered the memory. That night so long ago was the last night he would cause mischief with his coral rookery brother, for the next eve there was a thunderous argument with Hudson.

Much like Brooklyn, Goliath's rookery brother ran off in a huff. Goliath sincerely hoped that unlike his coral rookery brother, Brooklyn would find his way back into the fold. For the Gargoyle Way had seen many a gargoyle leader through hardships in the past, and there was not a single doubt in his mind that the Old Ways would work for Brooklyn as well.

***

Anea tried her best to keep her eyes from flickering towards Dominique Destine, who sat near the head of the table near Xanatos. From her vantage-point on Owen's left, she could keep a good eye on all of the business transactions, and as one of the head analysts her position was justifiable.

Destine's R & D heads had made their presentation, as did Xanatos', and all was going remarkably well. Nightstone Unlimited was officially sharing financial responsibilities and benefits for a new microprocessor with Xanatos Enterprises. Since both companies had come up with similar concepts, both saw the advantages of combining their efforts. This decision neatly bypassed any future lawsuits for copyright infringements. Xanatos obviously proposed the small alliance to reek the benefits, but Anea would bet anything that the multibillionaire had something else up his Armani sleeve.

"Very well then, Xanatos. I've read all the small print, and there are no loopholes for you to hang me with," Ms. Destine said coolly. She was the very picture of civility in her sharp, red skirt and blazer. Her perfect posture and unreadable gaze rivaled Owen's best.

"I'm sure our alliance will be a… lucrative one, Ms. Destine," David Xanatos replied. He was wearing that charming smile of his like a shield, and his equally charming demeanor didn't slip for a second. Dominique Destine being a gargoyle by night was the least of the CEO’s worries. In any boardroom, or office of the corporate world, Demona was just as lethal and cutthroat by day compared to any night-skirmish Xanatos could recall.

Both CEOs stood, as did Owen, Anea, and Destine's skittish personal secretary, Ms. Channing. The meeting was officially adjourned and all involved milled out of the executive boardroom. Xanatos and Owen exchanged a few words on the caution required when dealing with the likes of Destine, and Anea politely excused herself as she gathered her manila folders and left both men to their corporate espionage.

David Xanatos was also someone to be reckoned with, and this small merger was going to put both CEOs in the sites of the paparazzi. No matter how much past there was between Xanatos and Destine, they were forced to keep up appearances--

Anea fumbled with her folders near an elevator as someone nearly bowled her over. All her folders, and the papers in them, ended up on the floor, a mess.

"I'm so sorry! I was just in such a hurry, I--" the woman speaking kneeled to scoop up the papers, and Anea did the same but… she had the oddest feeling of déjà vu. That voice seemed so familiar…

The woman in question was dressed professionally in a pantsuit with her chestnut hair brushed back from her face. The most prominent feature on the woman’s face was a light scar running length-wise along her jaw…

"Is something wrong, Miss?" the woman asked. She gave Anea a curious look as she handed over the folders she’d picked up from the floor.

"Um, no. No, not at all," Anea recovered with a friendly smile. It was the woman’s turn to slightly stare as Anea took back the offered folders and papers.

"Have we met before?" the brunette asked curiously, her bright hazel eyes unmoving from Anea face.

"Honestly," Anea began slowly, "I’m not quite sure."

The woman opposite Anea smiled anyway. "Well, you’ve met me now," she said offering her hand. "I’m Terry Langston, a transfer from Xanacorp, Paris."

Anea struggled to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. It was the young woman she had saved over a month ago from some punks in Central Park. Of course, as Anea Yolen, she couldn’t say as much. "Anea Yolen, one of the systems analysts here in Xanacorp, New York," the human disguised fey replied, gently grasping Terry’s hand in greeting.

"A pleasure. I’ve… seen you before, actually. Though, only in passing," Terry commented. "Well," she withdrew her hand, "I have to be going. Mr. Xanatos is expecting me in Boardroom 1."

"Oh, ah, well good luck then." Anea gave Terry a comforting smile. The brunette seemed to freeze where she stood.

"We haven’t met before, right?" Terry repeated, as if to confirm that fact to herself.

"Not in so many words, no," Anea answered truthfully. Technically, the human Anea Yolen had never met Terry Langston before.

Terry nodded to herself, as if dismissing some thoughts of no consequence. "All right. Well, it was nice bumping into you… all things considered," she grinned, ready to be on her way. "Hope to see you around," the efficient-looking brunette said amiably, and then was off to her meeting.

Anea looked after her ‘new’ acquaintance with a small, disbelieving smile. The world was definitely getting smaller and smaller.

***

Dominique Destine calmly got into her sleek, black limousine as her driver quickly shut the door and rounded the vehicle to drive the CEO back to Nightstone. The redhead herself stretched languidly in the back of the limousine, a feline smile gracing her lips.

Xanatos was used to being the best corporate shark, as far as business transactions went, but not anymore. Dominique knew that scheming human was looking for some kind of connection with Nightstone to get under her skin, but she could play that to her advantage. She would not make the mistake of underestimating an opponent as clever as Xanatos. Dominique had grudgingly admitted to herself long ago that David Xanatos was a worthy adversary, as was Goliath. Now that the two had banded together, if one fell then the other would soon follow.

The CEO of Nightstone Unlimited picked up her cell-phone and dialed the first number in its memory. Someone quickly answered at the other end. "Ms. Channing? Have you checked if my 3:30 has arrived yet? No? Well then you have a cell-phone, so get to work!" Destine snarled, and paused to wallow at the human’s fright with a cruel, satisfied smile. "If they get there ahead of schedule tell them I’m on my way. I cannot have the heads of Robotics International think I am not taking them seriously. All right. Good day." Dominique audibly sighed.

Dealing with the humans was getting disturbingly easier, since she was regrettably one of them. Well, this form does have its advantages, she thought with a sly smile.

***

Brooklyn frowned down at Manhattan, which was spread out below him like a sparkling miniature of the real thing. Jane had obviously spent the day somewhere else other than the Cloisters. He was sure she’d come back. It’s not like he was the worst roomie in the world—

"Slow down, hot-shot!" pleaded a voice from behind the beaked gargoyle. Brooklyn glanced back, attempting to smother his grin, while Lexington struggled to catch up. The smaller gargoyle closed the gap between them and smiled tiredly at his rookery brother. "I managed to sneak away after patrol."

"Figures." As much as he welcomed the chance to talk to Lex, the sneaking around had to stop. "Lex, you know you can’t keep this up. Goliath will probably brand you some kind of traitor and toss you out on your tail too."

Lexington just laughed. "You know you’re exaggerating. True, he wouldn’t be too happy, but he’s not this big monster you make him out to be."

Brooklyn jumped to his own defense. "You takin’ his side?" he immediately countered.

"N-no! I’m just saying the truth, that’s all." Lex frowned a bit. "The both of you really need to just talk this thing out."

"Not when he’s too thickheaded to listen, Lex!" Brooklyn took a calming breathe. "You’re right Lex, but until Goliath realizes that just maybe he’s wrong about a few things, that talk between him and me isn’t going to happen."

"You’re my rookery brother, and Second. Goliath is Leader. We’re a clan. It’d be nice to have that back someday," Lex confessed with a weak smile.

Brooklyn cracked a half-smile. "Yeah, it would." The beaked gargoyle saw a familiar winged shape atop one of the many nameless buildings near the hustle and bustle of Times Square. He motioned to Lex, who nodded in agreement as both gargoyles went down for a landing.

The female gargoyle turned and smiled weakly at Brooklyn and Lex. "Hello," she greeted with a small wave.

Brooklyn still couldn’t get over how damn eerie the clones were. "Delilah, you shouldn’t be out alone. The Quarrymen aren’t just stories to scare hatchlings into being good, you know," the dusky-red gargoyle said firmly.

"I am not alone," replied the clone in a voice identical to Elisa’s. "Claw is near. He protect me," she said with all the confidence in the world, and at that moment her ‘protector’ swooped down carrying two super-sized pretzels. From a vendor scared shitless, no doubt, Brooklyn thought wryly.

The mammoth-sized tiger-goyle with wings gazed at the newcomers curiously, and then turned to Delilah and offered her a pretzel as he awaited an explanation. The female gargoyle merely smiled as she took the offering. "We go back to Labyrinth now. Talon will worry."

Claw nodded and glanced back at Brooklyn and Lexington. Delilah also looked back at them. "Good night, Brooklyn and Lexington," she bid easily, her English lessons with Talon and Maggie shining through. Both Claw and Delilah took off, leaving a slightly bemused Brooklyn and bewildered Lex.

"She’s come a long way from, ‘Obey Thailog,’ at least," Lex commented.

Brooklyn frowned. "Delilah’s still a kid. If the Quarrymen catch up with them, it won’t be pretty."

The smaller gargoyle grinned. "Well, judging by the way Claw stood by her, I’d say they’d be all right."

"Maybe." Lexington’s beaked rookery brother turned to leave when he stopped in mid-step. Coming down for a sloppy landing was Jane. Lex’s eyes widened while Brooklyn frowned. "Well, that was one half-assed landing if I ever saw one. Where’ve you been, gliding wonder?"

"Nice to see you too, Beak-face," Jane replied with a friendly grin. "I was off getting about a seven course meal, courtesy of a close friend of mine."

The beaked gargoyle’s stomach growled traitorously. Brooklyn’s expression darkened. "Yeah? Well MacBeth obviously doesn’t know he shouldn’t feed strays, else they keep coming back for more."

Jane merely stuck her tongue out at him. Then, her attention shifted to Lexington for the first time. "Hey Goblin dude. Long time no see. What’s up?"

Lexington, caught by surprise, stuttered out his answer. "I-uh-well, I’ve been… around."

"Uh-huh," the off-white gargress said dryly. "Well, good to hear it." Jane looked back to Brooklyn. "It’s about an hour ‘til sun-up, Brookie. Meet ya back at the Cloisters." She spared Lex a last glance. "Tootles Goblin boy." The gargress made a dive off the building before either of the rookery brothers could say anything.

"Goblin boy?" Lexington wondered aloud.

Brooklyn grimaced. "Yeah, well, at least she doesn’t call you Beak-face."

The smaller gargoyle spared his rookery brother a sympathetic gaze. "She’s staying with you, huh?"

"Well, it’s not what it sounds like. I couldn’t just leave her out in the cold—and don’t give me that look!" the dusky-red gargoyle warned. "The Cloisters has a bunch of space. She stays on her side, and me on mine. We don’t even have to see each other most of the night anyways."

"Right." Lexington smiled to himself and nodded. "All right, well, try not to do anything you might regret, Brook. Later."

Brooklyn watched his rookery sib leap off into the night, and took off himself minutes afterwards. Yeah right, like I’m gonna make a move on Miss Congeniality, he thought irritably. At least they were sharing the same estate and not the same room. Brooklyn was sure they’d tear each other apart, and not in a good way, he thought ruefully as he winged his way back to the Cloisters. This was really going to be a weird Christmas.

***

Xanatos’ Executive Assistant had finished downloading his employer’s agenda for the day, when a quiet knock came from his office door. Curious as to who would be awake and in the offices just after dawn, Owen quickly bid whomever it was to enter. A professionally dressed and groomed Ms. Yolen walked in, closing the door behind herself.

Curiouser and curiouser. The trickster-disguised-human was intrigued. Owen tried to become more personable. "Good morning, Ms. Yolen. To what do I owe this visit?"

The woman in question smiled distractedly. "I wanted to know if you’ve managed to find the girl, Owen." The tone and seriousness with which the inquiry was voiced warned Owen to broach the subject with caution.

"Lexington managed to see the child in passing last evening," he carefully replied, pocketing his Palm PC and placing some manila folders into his briefcase.

"He told you this himself?" Anea asked in minor surprise.

Owen merely replied, "Mr. Xanatos has felt the need to reactivate the security cameras in the gargoyles’ quarters as of late. Why do you ask about the girl?"

Anea’s eyes met his, and the blond-haired man saw the tiredness in them. "Because she’s in danger."

The blond businessman regarded the young woman in his office with keen interest. This certainly was an unexpected turn of events.

***

"But I thought you couldn’t feel Jane’s presence, Ms. Yolen," Xanatos countered as he leaned back on his desk.

Owen aptly watched the exchange between his employer and Ms. Yolen. He smothered the oddest urge to reach out and place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Executive Assistant Owen Burnett did no such things in front of anyone, let alone his employer.

"You’re right Mr. Xanatos, I cannot feel her presence but somehow—somehow, maybe I can sense things she most probably cannot," Anea answered levelly.

Xanatos looked to his assistant and resident authority on anything magical for any input. Owen immediately spoke without a hitch, referring to both Ms. Yolen and Jane. "Perhaps, because the magic that binds you both was diluted to begin with, the link between the both of you has managed to manifest itself only now that you are fully fey, Ms. Yolen."

"Being on Avalon could’ve contributed to the fact that you weren’t able to sense Jane up until now," Xanatos added, considering himself an old hand in the subject of the supernatural.

A ghost of a smile appeared on the chiseled planes of Owen’s face. "Avalon does exist on another plane, and the Mists also tend to skew any magicks spanning from the mortal plane." The faint smile disappeared as if it were never there. "How exactly did you sense that Jane was in peril, Ms. Yolen?" he inquired.

"It was just before my alarm went off this morning," Anea recalled, as a haunted look overtook her expression. "Such a feeling of dread…" she trailed off, eyes wandering. Then, suddenly her gazed snapped back up. "I couldn’t breath." She shook her head as to dismiss the fear so prominent in her eyes. "There were flashes of… something. Of a place… of Jane. Then nothing."

"That’s a little vague," Xanatos stated as he took on a more thoughtful expression.

Anea sighed in exasperation as she gestured with her hands in an attempt at an explanation. "I don’t know how to explain it! It was so cold… isolated." She shivered and searched for the words. "Like death," she finished off in a near whisper.

Considering himself a logical man, Xanatos lent his expertise to the pot. "Well, theoretically, death is a state not a place. The North Pole is cold, as are a million other places. I’m afraid that your description, Ms. Yolen, isn’t much to go on."

"I know," she admitted as her shoulders slumped in defeat.

Owen stepped forward, his tone gentled by the voice of speculation. "Perhaps you possess The Sight, Ms. Yolen."

"The ability to see the future? Are you sure Owen?" Xanatos asked, equally intrigued by the prospect. The sharp edge of a warning he found in his personal assistant’s gaze was enough to kill any scheming.

"That is one of its many forms, yes. Although, such a thing could not be able to manifest itself so suddenly nor lay dormant for such a long period of time." Owen’s brow furrowed and his lips pursed. This was indeed a puzzle. "The Sight is something someone may be born with and, therefore, it makes itself known early on in the Seer’s life."

Anea piped up. "Could there be a chance that Jane has The Sight, Owen?"

The straight-laced majordomo thought on that for a moment. "Perhaps, and with the aid of your parentage, Ms. Yolen, such a thing is a possibility."

"So when Jane was ‘born’ these abilities could have also made themselves known," Xanatos offered. "Maybe that’s why she was being so cavalier about refusing Goliath’s offer of the clan’s protection."

"Maybe," Anea murmured, while deep in thought herself.

***

***

The young woman poured herself some coffee and merely shrugged. "Don’t mention it. We’re friends afterall, aren’t we?"

"Hey, I also came here for the opportunities, Xanatos Enterprises’ headquarters is definitely the place for them," Terry grinned, while she cradled the phone with her shoulder as she checked on dinner.

"You lie like a rug, Langston," the voice said laughingly, but then grew serious. "This info’s going to help me big-time. I’m going to track this creep down, you watch me," said the feminine voice vehemently.

Terr almost choked on her coffee. "Hey, you watch yourself Janey. Let the cops handle Sevarious. Don’t do anything rash that you’ll regret later on, hm?"

An audible sigh was heard in reply. "Fine, I won’t do anything too drastic to the little worm, but he’s going to find a cure for this even if it is after a long torturing sesh."

"Janey…" Terr warned her long-time friend.

Terry sighed. It’s been years since they first met in college, and Janey was still just as wild as ever. "All right. I know better than to argue with you, Janey. Just remember, I’m here if you need me."

"That’s bull," Terry said ardently. "Cliché, or not, friends stick together no matter what. We made a promise years ago, and neither of is going back on it. Got it?"

"Night." Terry sighed as she hung up the phone in her small kitchen. Janey, always the brave one… even back then, she thought as she recalled their by-chance meeting. If it hadn’t been for Janey, she wouldn’t have made it out of first year coursework alive.

***

"Smoothly, sir. Ms. Destine has already signed the final paperwork, and their first test run will begin just in time for the holidays," Mr. Mang Hiro, CEO of Robotics International, calmly stated.

"Very good then, Mr. Thailog. Will there be anything else?"

"If that is all sir, I bid you a good evening." R.I.’s CEO quickly hung up, glad to have had such a lucrative business agreement, even if the man on the other end was a big… unnerving. Hiro reached for his mail, opening the first blank envelope, a personal correspondence from Mr. Thailog.

The CEO never saw the explosion coming.

To Be Concluded...

***

 Author’s Note: Part 5 is in the planning stages, so stay tuned! =)

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