Aft A'Gley
by Nancy Brown (nancy@rat.org)
copyright 1996
PG
This takes place about three hours after the end of "Ransom." Read no
further if you have yet to see that episode. (Insert Std. Disclaimer about
Disney owning the universe here.)
David rested his hands on the edge of the crib, scarcely daring to
breathe. Alex had been very busy these last few days, and hadn't wanted to
go to sleep. Only just now had he closed those sweet blue eyes of his to
rest; David was certain that if he moved an inch, the calm would be broken
again, and he'd spend another hour walking the floor. Not that he minded,
he thought. There was something amazingly wonderful in holding his son,
*his son*, gently against his shoulder, and moving slowly back and forth as
he hummed a lullabye. It was a kind of magic that could neither be held in a
talisman nor summoned on a whim from his inlaws. Alex waved one tiny fist
in his sleep, and David's heart nearly broke from joy.
It was good to have him home again. To think what could have
happened if things had not gone as smoothly as they had ...
Doyle was out of the way for good. He'd been a loose cannon from
the beginning, which had been his purpose. However, it was now safe to
say he'd outlived his usefulness. What the Quarrymen were doing for the
fringe element, he'd done for the population at large: turned otherwise typical
people into cold killers, bent on destroying those who were different. Doyle
had manipulated them out of fear and unseeing anger, much like a low-
budget Hitler. When he'd endangered Alex, his supporters had been thrown
into confusion, and when *Lexington* had saved him, the confusion had
become near-chaos. Exactly according to plan.
Fortunately, Lex had recognized Doyle's helicopter, or things would
have been far more difficult to work. That had been a campaign contribution
well worth the making, he decided. Besides, if anyone tried to trace it, or any
of the rest of Doyle's funding, they would find the name under which the
donations had been made: an up and coming corporation with no ties
whatsoever to Xanatos Enterprises, named Rome or Athens or something.
He'd have to ask Owen.
A smile touched his lips. Staging the explosion had been a touch of
genius, and Owen had played his part admirably. If anyone inquired on his
health, he'd had a concussion. Even the hospital staff were convinced. And
when no one else was there, he could go back to being the world's best
walking talking baby-monitor without any interruptions from the outside world.
When they'd gone to visit him earlier, he confided that it was the best
working vacation he'd had in some time.
Fox's performance hadn't been quite as good. David had quietly
noted several times when she'd thrown herself too much into her part. Yet,
even that had its place: now the clan would remember that Fox had instantly
turned on them for the sake of her child, but they would also recall that he
had refused to abandon them, even for Alex. He would have still more of
their undying gratitude. If he later needed them to trust Fox, well, a great
deal could be blamed on hormones, although she would shoot him for saying
so.
He counted his gains for the day. The gargoyles trusted him. Doyle,
whom he'd never intended to allow to become Mayor anyway, had
unknowingly served his purpose and had been safely discarded, with no way
of discovering who had ordered the "kidnapping" in the first place. The anti-
gargoyle movement was growing smoothly, which would make the clan even
more reliant upon him. Meanwhile, the pro-gargoyle movement had finally
been given a good start, with the vast majority of New York uncertain which
group to believe. The population was highly confused, and a little scared,
and he'd discovered that confused, frightened people were amazingly easy
to lead.
Perhaps best of all, Alex, who had never actually been in danger,
was already a celebrity. It meant little right now, but David was no longer
concerned with "right now." The quest for immortality had never stopped,
but he'd chosen to take it to the next generation. Owen had already said
there was a good chance the baby would have enough fay blood to be
virtually immortal. By the time he was an adult, David intended to have an
empire waiting for him. It would just require patience.
He leaned down and placed a kiss on Alex's forehead. For him, it
would be worth the time and expense. Still, he had to admit, it felt good to
finally have something go exactly according to plan.
The End
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