Of Enemies and Allies
by Anne M. Jensen (ajensen@west.net)

Disclaimer:  The characters, with a few exceptions (such as the 
terrorists and Arthur's knights, which are products of my own 
fiendish brain and traditional literature) are the property of Disney.  I 
have borrowed them, without permission, for a brief time and return 
them none the worse for wear, with my profound thanks.  

I want to send my thanks out to Jonna for her encouragement, and 
Allison for giving me advice on posting this.

Note:  This story takes place four years after the events in Hunter's 
Moon.   I figure that a lot of the inconsistencies about who knows 
what about whom have been cleared up by then.  In addition, a 
number of significant events have occurred between the time of 
Hunter's Moon and my story.  I'd love to hear what you think of 
this story, so please send me your comments.



	Elisa Maza sighed and shifted.  Normally she hated these 
sorts of gatherings.  It wasn't that she felt intimidated by the high 
society there--after arresting Xanatos, waking King Arthur, meeting 
Lord Oberon and Lady Titania, and battling gods (even if one of 
them happened to be her temporarily transformed best friend), 
normal "upper crust" types would have ceased to awe her, if she 
hadn't had all of that nonsense knocked out of her before she made 
detective.  No, it wasn't the people.  Nor was it the events 
themselves--the Police Officers Charity Luncheon was definitely a 
cause she could support, personally.  No, it was the fact that while 
she was sitting here chatting with people and socializing, it was 
taking her away from the streets where her real work was.  If she 
and Matt hadn't just made a splash in the news media by putting 
away a major dockside smuggling operation, and if half the force, 
including Captain Chavez, weren't out sick with the flu, she and 
Matt wouldn't even be here this afternoon.
	That was what she had used to think about these sorts of 
gatherings, anyway.  She'd never think that way again, she reflected, 
staring at the muzzle of the gun pointed at her when she'd moved.  
She froze.  No, thinking the streets were the only place where she 
could make a difference was not a mistake she'd make again.  
Charity events could be just as dangerous as the streets.  Particularly 
when terrorists decided to crash them, and take the guests hostage.
	Matt groaned next to her and she glanced down at him.  The 
bleeding from the bullet wound in his shoulder had mostly stopped.  
It was a miracle that it hadn't hit anything vital, but it still might kill 
him if he didn't get medical help soon.  "Stay with me, Bluestone," 
she muttered.  "We've been through worse than this."
	"You're one to talk, Maza."  Matt's voice was hoarse.
	"Hey, when I got shot, I was a lot worse off, so don't 
complain."  She didn't feel much like joking, especially not about 
that, but if it helped keep Matt going, it was worth it.
	"Oh yeah, Broadway shot you accidentally.  I got shot by 
terrorists."
	"I've been shot at by terrorists-" she started to say, when 
one of the current terrorists growled, "Shut up," and waved his gun 
menacingly.
	Elisa pressed her lips together and glanced at Matt, rolling 
her eyes.  He nodded his head slightly, understanding exactly what 
she was feeling.  It was frustrating when it was your job to stop 
these people, and there was nothing you could do, but that was 
something you learned to live with if you were a cop.  
	She went back to staring out the window.  In another half-
hour or so, it would be sunset, and then, assuming the gang found 
out, it would be all over.  The problem was there wasn't anyone to 
tell them.  She and Matt were both here, sitting in the little group of 
people set apart from the rest of the hostages, because they'd tried to 
fight off the terrorists when they'd shown up.  King Arthur was on 
Matt's other side, nursing a bruise to the jaw from where one of the 
terrorists had hit him.  A little bit further was Macbeth, in somewhat 
better condition, but just as furious.  On his other side were 
Xanatos--who still looked the worse for wear after he'd been 
knocked  out for an hour or so, and Fox.  They both had slightly 
narrowed eyes when they gazed at their captors.  And, speaking of 
terrorists, on Elisa's own left, sitting slightly farther away, and 
wearing a look of absolute hatred, was Demona herself.  Which left 
only Owen, she supposed.  But unless Owen knew they had stayed 
at Arthur's castle  just outside the city last night, and found a way to 
reach them before they left on patrol, the gargoyles might not find 
out for hours yet, and anything could happen between now and then.  
Someone might actually get killed.
	Then too, there was the more immediate problem.  Even if 
the gargoyles found out right away, it would still take a little time to 
get here.  Demona would change shape at sunset though, just as 
they were breaking out of their stone skins.  And while Elisa was 
certain that one incredibly angry immortal gargoyle could do quite a 
lot of damage, especially when she had just caused a distraction by 
turning into said gargoyle, one gargoyle (and six humans) against 
40 or so terrorists with guns was a bit much.  After all, seven 
humans against those same terrorists had failed. The terrorists 
would probably start shooting hostages--not that Demona would 
mind much, but Elisa had a bit more concern for her fellow 
humans.  Seven defenders were all they currently had--the prices for 
lunch had been a bit too steep for ordinary police officers to attend, 
and most society types just weren't fighters--and unless a miracle 
occurred, seven was all they *would* have when Demona changed 
and went for their throats.  
	Moreover, Demona had been very careful so far never to let 
those who knew her in her human form see her after sundown.  
Turning into a gargoyle in front of half of the important personages 
of the city would pretty much destroy her human cover.  Elisa was 
sure that even Demona didn't want that.
	Elisa didn't even know what "Dominique Destine" was 
doing here anyway.  It wasn't as if Demona particularly cared about 
police officers.  In fact, Elisa was more inclined to think Demona 
wanted to wipe all cops (and one cop in particular) off the face of the 
earth.  But whatever Demona's reasons, she was here now, and 
Elisa had to deal with the problem.  
	She even had an idea of how she could solve both of her 
problems.  But she couldn't do it alone.  It was going to take all of 
them, working together, even though she wasn't sure if she could 
trust some of those she'd be relying on.  She'd better put her plan in 
motion soon, however.  She didn't have a lot of time before the sun 
went down.
	She turned to look at Fox, who raised a questioning eyebrow 
in response.  Elisa glanced at Demona once and then out the 
window.  Fox inclined her head in comprehension, and then Elisa 
significantly lowered her gaze down at Matt, and glanced again at 
Demona and herself.  Fox nodded again slightly and lowered her 
own head to Xanatos.  Elisa glanced over at Macbeth and Arthur to 
let them know too, but they'd caught her exchange with Fox.  That 
left only Demona and Matt.  
	Demona was still fuming at the guards, oblivious to all else, 
the hatred rolling from her in palpable waves.  It figured.  Elisa was 
trying to figure out a way to get her out of here, and all Demona was 
concentrating on was her hate.  Not that Elisa really could blame her 
right now, though.  She was rather strongly inclined to hate these 
people herself, but at the moment she had more important things to 
do.  Like finding a way to let Demona know about the plan.  But 
how to draw Demona's attention without attracting that of the 
guards?  Thankfully, Macbeth provided the answer.  Demona sat up 
with a start, shaking her hand in pain and transferring her glare to 
him.  Elisa repressed a smile.  There were times when the Weird 
Sisters' spell gave Demona and Macbeth a distinct advantage.  She 
let Macbeth pass along the message, not wanting to draw any more 
attention to herself.  While exchanging glances wasn't quite as 
conspicuous as, say, talking, it was conspicuous enough, and she 
really didn't want to arouse any more suspicions than she already 
had.  
	She lowered her eyes to Matt again, to think of a way to tell 
him about her plan, and found him with an expectant look on his 
face.  Evidently he, too, had followed her exchanges.  He winked.  
Elisa winked back in response.  Of all of the partners she might 
have had, she'd really lucked out.  No questions to be asked or 
answered.  They thought along the same lines, which really came in 
handy in situations like this.  
	*Play dead,* she mouthed at him.  He grinned slightly, 
knowing exactly where this was going, and then let his face relax.  
	"Matt?"  she asked, letting her voice scale up on the end 
with worry.
	"So tiredÉ" Matt let his voice trail off, drawing a raspy 
breath.
	"No, Matt, don't you die on me."  Elisa started shouting:  
"Do you hear me, Bluestone?  Hold on!"
	"SorryÉElisaÉ"  His eyes fluttered shut, and he let his 
head loll.
	"Come on Matt!  Hold on!  Matt!"  Her breath caught in 
sobs, and she raised a hand to her eyes.  It was far too easy to play 
this role.  She was really afraid for him.  If this didn't work, he 
probably would die.  
	Fox took her cue.  "He's dead, David!"  She sounded on the 
verge of hysteria.  Leave it to Fox, former TV star, to feign it so 
well.  "And what's to stop them from doing the same thing to us?  
We're all going to die!  We're all going to die!"  Xanatos started to 
mutter some words of comfort but Fox was really getting into her 
part now.  "No!  Don't lie to me!" she shrieked, "They're going to 
kill us!"
	Elisa had bent her head, ostensibly in grief, but in reality she 
was tensed up, waiting for her chance.  Demona had placed a hand 
on her shoulder, and from that touch, she could feel Demona tensed 
up as well.  Fox's performance escalated.  It wouldn't be long, now.
	Fox rose to her feet and started screaming, "They're going 
to kill us!"  By now she was attracting a lot of attention, quite a bit 
of it from the other guests/hostages, who were looking nervous.  
They might have a real riot on their hands if Fox worked them up 
enough.
	The terrorists realized it too, and started gesturing with their 
guns.  The leader said to Xanatos, "Shut her up!"
	"I'm trying," he said, spreading his hands helplessly.  He 
and Fox were a perfect pair, those two.
	"If you can't, then *I* will."  The leader caught Fox's arm, 
and pulled back his hand to slap her, but Xanatos' fist caught him 
first.  
	"*Don't* touch my wife!" Xanatos said in a cold tone.
	Pandemonium broke out.  Macbeth and King Arthur leapt to 
their feet and began throwing punches at the guards.  Fox's scream 
of fear turned into a karate yell, and she turned, protecting Xanatos' 
back, and getting in a few good blows of her own, even hampered 
by her dress.  Matt opened his eyes and stuck his foot out, tripping 
one of the terrorists running over to help.  Other hostages were 
screaming now, and the whole situation was starting to turn ugly.  
	Elisa didn't stick around to see the chaos she had caused, 
though.  Her path to the door was relatively clear, and she grabbed 
Demona's arm and went for it.  A few of the terrorists saw them 
and tried to stop them, but she and Demona made short work of 
them, and took off down the hallway, running as quickly as they 
could for the stairs.  
	What was the world coming to, when she was finding 
herself allied with Xanatos and Fox in trying to protect Demona?  
And wasn't it strange how well they worked together?  All of the 
fights and challenges between them had given them insight into how 
the others' brains worked.  A lot like her and Matt.  It was almost 
uncanny.  They'd fought each other for too long.
	Two flights of stairs down, she and Demona paused to catch 
their breath. "Why are you doing this, human?" Demona panted, 
somehow managing to still sound suspicious, even when gasping.  
	Elisa wished she had an easy answer for that question.  The 
best she could come up with on short notice, though, was, "I didn't 
think we wanted you turning into a gargoyle in front of terrorists 
and the upper crust of New York."  She gestured towards the stairs, 
"You *have* to get out of here.  I think there's a viewing deck on 
this floor.  They won't have left the doors unguarded downstairs, 
but in a few minutes you should be able to take off from there--it's 
high enough."
	Demona nodded, eyes still narrowed suspiciously.
	Elisa continued.  "I'd be obliged if you found some way of 
telling the guys about this, but I'm not expecting it.  Now, go!"  She 
took off down the stairs, making as much noise as she could, and 
hoping the reverse psychology worked.  Demona, on the other 
hand, slipped through the door quietly.  Two floors above them the 
door to the stairs crashed open.  The chase was on.

	It didn't last very long.  Less than five minutes later, two 
terrorists were marching her back up the stairs, guns pointed at her.  
That wasn't important, though.  All she had to do was buy Demona 
enough time to get out of there.  They hadn't found her yet, Elisa 
was certain of it.  Why else were the remainder of the terrorists 
who'd chased them down the stairs still looking around on the 
floors for Demona?   And Demona was an old hand at these sorts 
of things.  She'd been doing it for centuries.  Given a lead, Demona 
would take it.  Elisa just hoped it was enough of a lead.  It had been 
the best she could manage under the circumstances.  
	And in her present attire, she thought, glancing down at her 
dress, which had ripped along one of the seams when it had caught 
on something as she was running.  It figured, though, that the one 
time she wore something she couldn't really fight in, she'd go up 
against terrorists.  It also figured that the one time she wore one of 
the few outfits she owned other than jeans and tee-shirts--one of the 
few *nicer* outfits she owned--it would get destroyed.  She seemed 
to have incredibly bad luck with nice clothes.  With the exception of 
the dresses she wore for the handful of "court" (as in royal, not 
judicial) activities she'd attended, she never seemed to wear them 
without *something* going wrong. 
	Back in the room where it had all started, things had calmed 
down somewhat.    Matt was propped against a wall, still very much 
in the land of the living, thankfully.  Xanatos was sporting another 
bruise, and what would probably become a black eye in a few 
hours.  Fox's face showed a mixture of concern for her husband 
and fury at their captors.  Arthur was holding a hand to his ribs.  
Macbeth, however, was lying on the floor, unconscious or worse.  
Elisa stared at him a moment, confused, before realizing what must 
have happened.  She hoped that the bullet had killed him quickly, 
although how they were going to explain his apparent resurrection, 
she had no idea.  This changed everything, though.  If Macbeth had 
"died" then Demona must be "dead" too, which meant she wasn't 
currently capable of hiding from any nearing terrorists...
	Macbeth groaned and rose slowly to his feet, and Elisa had 
to reassess her opinion.  The terrorists didn't seem at all surprised 
that he was waking up, which meant that Demona--
	"Fell," Macbeth announced, apparently to no one in 
particular and rubbed his neck.  
	Arthur nodded in comprehension.  "Ah."
	"Shut up!" the head terrorist said, waving his gun in their 
direction.  He turned his attention to Elisa and said coldly,  "Well, 
Detective, that didn't go very well, did it?  Now, perhaps you'll tell 
me where Ms. Destine is?"
	"I have no idea," Elisa said truthfully, returning his cold 
stare.

	Demona raised her head, and blinked at her surroundings, 
trying to reorient herself.  The terrorists at the luncheon... running 
down the stairs to escape them... going to the balcony to wait for 
sunset...  But then the terrorists had searched the floor for her, and 
were about to find her, so she'd climbed over the edge of the 
balcony to escape, and then had slipped and fallen.  She groaned and 
sat up.  This was the very first time she had fallen from such a 
height in her life.  The feeling of terror at the sight of the ground 
coming up and not being able to spread her wings to catch herself 
was one she'd not soon forget, no matter how hard she tried.  The 
memory of hitting the ground at full speed would probably last even 
longer.  She spent a moment cursing the humans responsible for 
making her fall when she was in her human form.  They'd pay for 
that.  But at least she was away from there.  As she put one hand to 
rub her head, she noted the five fingers and groaned again.  
Evidently she was *still* in her human form.  But soon, very soon, 
she'd change, and then she'd see that the humans got what was 
coming to them.
	"Ma'am?"  A police officer was looking down at her in 
disbelief.  "You shouldn't move until we have an ambulance here."
	That was *all* she needed.  "I'm fine," she said evenly.  
	"After a fall like that ma'am, you're lucky to be alive.  You 
really should wait until we have the ambulance here to check you 
out."
	Demona started to growl, her hands clenching into fists, 
when a new voice intruded.
	"Officer Morgan, under the circumstances, perhaps it would 
be better if we didn't wait for the ambulance?" Owen Burnett said in 
his calm voice.  Burnett?  Why was *he* here?  Of course.  Xanatos 
was inside the building.  She cursed Burnett too.  It was all his fault 
she didn't have her wings.
	"Mr. Burnett, with most of the force out sick, we don't have 
enough people here as it is.  We can't send someone off to the 
hospital with her.  Besides, she shouldn't be moved until a medical 
team has looked at her."
	"I have a bit of first aid experience, and the limousine could 
take Mademoiselle. Destine to the hospital in less time than it would 
take an ambulance to get here."
	Officer Morgan blinked.  "Ms. Destine?  As in Dominique 
Destine?  One of the hostages from inside?"
	"Yes,"  Demona said between clenched teeth.
	"Whoa boy.  We'll need you to answer some questions 
about the terrorists, Ms Destine.  If you're really all right..."
	"Mademoiselle Destine has just fallen off of a building.  I 
don't believe she is in any condition to answer questions at the 
moment," Owen interjected.  "As I said, I will be more than happy 
to see to it that she receives the proper medical attention, with the 
approval of your superiors, of course."
	Sighing, Officer Morgan nodded.  "We'd better make sure 
we can move her first.  In the meantime, ma'am, if you could 
answer a *few* questions..."

	Elisa hit the wall with a thud and slid down, lying there 
stunned.  How many times had she been thrown against the wall 
through the years?  For some reason she could only think of one:  
the time Macbeth and Demona had stolen Coldstone, and she knew 
there were more than that.  When she didn't get up immediately, the 
leader of the terrorists shook her.  "I'll ask you again.  Where is 
Dominique Destine?"
	Elisa blinked and reached up to blot at the blood on her lip.  
"Look, I've told you.  I don't know."  
	He raised his hand as if to hit her again, and she braced 
herself, but the blow didn't fall.
	At that moment a few more of the terrorists walked in.  "We 
couldn't find her, sir."  
	"You looked everywhere?"  The leader scowled.
	"She must have escaped the building somehow."
	The leader's eyes narrowed in fury and he turned his scowl 
back towards Elisa, "Perhaps you don't," he said.  "You helped her 
escape, which means that you've denied me of a rather large sum of 
money which she might have paid in ransom.  I can't let that happen 
again, so I'll have to make an example of you."
	"What are you going to do?" one of the terrorists asked--
Mantis, she'd heard others call him.
	"Dominique Destine was valuable--she was rich.  This cop, 
on the other hand, is of no use to us whatever, living or dead."
	"You're going to kill her?"  the terrorist exclaimed to his 
leader.
	"If I don't make an example of her, the others will get ideas 
about escaping too, and then we will have no money for the cause."
	And if you believe that the money will go to the cause, then 
a friend of mine has a bridge to sell you, Elisa thought.  She had no 
idea what the cause was, or even who the terrorists were, but she 
was fairly certain that the only "cause" the leader was concerned 
with was his own bank account.  Mantis, however, seemed not to 
realize this.  Reluctantly, he backed down, "I suppose so."
	The leader pulled up his gun and aimed it at her.  Elisa 
braced herself again, one hand held lightly over her heart--for all of 
the good it would do.  She hoped Demona came through.  If she 
died, she didn't want her death to have been in vain.  
	She held herself steady, staring down the business end of the 
gun back at him.  Suddenly he pulled it back up.  Matt, off to the 
side, relaxed.
	"Why waste a bullet?"  The leader of the terrorists asked.  
"Mr. Macduff had the right idea--a fall would be just as fatal."
	"What?" Matt exclaimed.
	"Your friend here, is about to have a nasty fall, which ought 
to show you all that I mean business."
	"No!  You can't!"  Matt protested weakly.
	"Keep it up, cop, and you'll join her.  The only reason you 
aren't now is that you aren't currently in any condition to be a threat.  
All of you, come," he added, gesturing with his gun.  "We'll be 
taking a little trip up to the roof."
	Elisa didn't need to glance out the window to know that the 
sun was still hovering over the horizon.  Falling off a building.  It 
was appropriate, somehow.  If it hadn't been for Goliath catching 
her, she would have died falling off a building long ago.  Of course, 
if it hadn't been for Goliath, she probably wouldn't have developed 
a habit of falling off of buildings in the first place...
	On the other hand, she had a far better chance of surviving a 
long fall than being shot point blank.  Particularly if she could stall 
long enough for the sun to go down.  She raised her chin.  Even if 
she didn't survive this, she wasn't going to let herself show fear.
	"You'll regret this," she told him.
	"I don't think so.  Now let's go."
	She shot him a look of pure anger, and leaned down to help 
Matt to his feet.  "Come on, Matt, you heard him.  Let's go."
	The leader and four other terrorists herded the six of them 
into the elevator, for which Elisa was grateful.  Matt was trying to 
walk, but he simply couldn't carry his own weight, and he wasn't 
exactly light.  As she stepped into the elevator, she looked back over 
her shoulder at the other hostages, still sitting there, not quite 
shaking in fear.  She had to do what she could to save them, no 
matter what the personal cost to herself--that was her job, after all.  
She turned back to the elevator, "Come on, partner," she put Matt's 
arm around her shoulder.  "It's not that far."
	"Here, allow me." Arthur said, coming up on Matt's other 
side.  
	"Thanks, your majesty."  Elisa relaxed as Arthur took half 
of Matt's weight.  Besides, someone was going to have to help Matt 
on the way back.  Whether she survived or not, she wouldn't be 
coming back down this way.  She caught herself about to shiver, 
and pulled herself together.  She would NOT give them the 
satisfaction of seeing her fear.
	"So, Detective," Xanatos said casually, as if they were back 
at an uninterrupted luncheon, rather then facing her execution, "how 
are Talon and Maggie doing these days?"
	Elisa didn't ask how he'd known, although she was sure 
that Goliath and the others hadn't mentioned it to him.  It seemed 
like there were very few secrets in this city which Xanatos hadn't 
heard.  "Fine."
	"I assume your brother is looking forward to fatherhood?"
	"He's a little nervous about the idea."
	"I sympathize with him."  He shared a smile with Fox.  
"When is Maggie due, anyway?"
	"We're not entirely sure."  Her brother and sister-in-law and 
their soon-to-be-born child was not something Elisa particularly 
wanted to discuss with Xanatos of all people, but it kept her mind 
off of the roof and the sun, and long drops.  "It's hard to tell."  And 
that was all Xanatos' fault, anyway--Neither Derek nor Maggie was 
what you could call human anymore, so it was difficult to say how 
quickly the baby would develop, or even what it would look like 
when born.  
	"I'd be more than happy to have one of my doctors take a 
look at Maggie and see how she and the baby are doing."
	"Thanks, but no thanks, Xanatos.  I don't think that Derek 
or Maggie would let themselves or their child anywhere near one of 
your doctors."
	"I, of all people, would be the last one to try and take a child 
away from his parents."  Xanatos commented, very seriously. "But, 
you do know, Detective, that technically they shouldn't be able to 
have children, and that their--um--species isn't really viable.  I didn't 
account for this, so even I don't know what will happen, and I'd 
hate for there to be any complications for mother and child."
	"We do have a few people keeping an eye on Maggie and 
the baby."  Beth, working on her medical degree,  and Dr. Sato, 
whom they'd let in on the secret, were both watching Maggie very 
closely.  Elisa's mother, delighted at the prospect of being a 
grandmother, even if they weren't certain exactly what she was 
going to be grandmother to, had been taking midwifery courses.  
Even Angela was taking an interest.  Elisa had a brief vision of 
Angela becoming the world's first gargoyle doctor, although where 
would she go to Med. school?  Maybe she could go off to Ishimura, 
or perhaps Reynard, or Arthur, or even Xanatos or Demona,  would 
offer to have her tutored privately.  In spite of everything, Elisa 
smiled a little at the thought of Angela as a doctor--she could see it 
now:  a receptionist saying, "I'm sorry, but the doctor is stone right 
now.  You'll have to come back tonight."  
	"If you need any help," Xanatos was saying, "please feel 
free to call on me.  I do feel responsible for this."
	Elisa frowned, and winced when her split lip protested.  
"That's what you said before.  Why should we believe you now?"
	"Because I mean it, this time."
	The elevator doors opened, and the leader of the terrorists 
stepped out, gesturing them with his gun--which Elisa was starting 
to find irritating.  "This is all very sweet, but: top floor, everyone 
out."
	They were all silent as they climbed the staircase to the roof.  
Not that Elisa had breath to talk what with helping Matt.  She 
allowed herself to lag behind, trying to buy time for herself.  If she 
could only stall them until sunset...
	When they opened the door to the roof, the first thing she 
noticed was the tiny rim of the sun just peeking over the horizon.  
Sunset wasn't far away now.  
	"Detective, I believe this is your 'drop zone'."  the terrorist 
said, with an attempt at humor.  No one laughed.
	With a sigh, Elisa let Arthur take Matt and took off her red 
dress jacket--no point in destroying it as well--and her shoes.  When 
the Xanatoses gave her a strange look, she answered, "I don't want 
them hitting anyone when they fall off."  
	"Ready yet, Detective?"  the terrorist asked in a dry tone.
	"Do I have a choice?"
	"No.  Climb up on this wall.  Oh, and if you try anything, 
I'll shoot your friends first and then you."
	Elisa stepped up to the wall designed to keep people from 
falling off the building.    It was windy, she noticed absently.  But 
then, it was always windy up this high, which made it perfect for the 
guys.  A tiny bit of sun was still hovering over the edge of the 
horizon.  But the sight of the sun was being obscured by a quickly 
moving fogbank, one moving far more quickly than was natural.
	"Fog's coming in," she commented, turning slightly to 
Xanatos and Fox.  "It's coming in fast."
	Xanatos and Fox exchanged a proud glance.  
	Elisa stared at the fogbank critically as she balanced on the 
edge of the wall.  The fog paused a moment in coming between the 
buildings, swooped around to surround the building they were on, 
and then flattened itself so that only the top few floors of the 
building were left clear.  Meaning that the police below wouldn't be 
able to see what was going on at the top of the building.  Clever.  
	It also meant that there wasn't going to be a net at the bottom 
of this building, though.
	"Any last words, Detective?" the terrorist asked, prodding 
her slightly with his gun.
	Elisa's mouth had gone dry.  She swallowed once and said, 
"If I d--if I don't make it, tell them it wasn't their fault, that it goes 
with the job."  She paused, but she had to trust her companions with 
it.  "And tell him--tell him I know."

	Matt bowed his head slightly when he heard her say that.  
Xanatos answered for all of them, "We will."  Matt saw Elisa nod 
slightly.  She wasn't looking at them, now, just staring off into the 
city one last time.
	"Oh how very touching," the terrorist said.
	Suddenly, everything seemed to happen in slow motion.  
The terrorist reached back his hand to push her off.  Matt screamed, 
"Elisa!" Elisa turned her head towards him, and Matt thought he 
caught a glimpse of red glowing eyes before the terrorist's hand 
connected and she fell, jumping out just like the guys did when they 
were taking off.  But the guys were still sleeping.  And this time 
there was no one to catch her.
	"Elisa," he said softly in horror, staring at the place where 
she'd been.

	Stingray, the terrorist leader, stared out over the edge of the 
roof.  Maza straightened out in the air, screamed, clenching her fists, 
and then seemed to stiffen, her scream echoing off the nearby 
buildings as she fell into the fogbank.  Satisfied that she wouldn't 
find anything to grab onto, he turned back to his other prisoners, 
"Well, that takes care of that."
	The other hostages weren't even looking at him.  With the 
exception of Bluestone, who had his head bowed and was probably 
crying, they were all staring at something in the distance.  He turned 
to see what they were staring at.  The sunset, he realized, disgusted.  
Instead of showing fear that he might do the same to them, they 
were all staring at the sunset.  He glared at them, not that they 
noticed.  "Come on," he said, "this time I'll make certain you can't 
try to escape again."
	As the last ray of sun disappeared over the horizon, Lennox 
Macduff curled over in pain and let out a howl, clenching his hands 
into fists.  Strangely, the others' faces displayed only simple 
curiosity.  Was Macduff going into some kind of spasm?  Stingray 
hoped not.  This incident was already causing him enough 
problems.  Rich people were supposed to be scared, and be happy to 
give money to protect their lives, not fight.  And money was 
everything.  Mantis, with his inheritance, could worry about causes.  
Since Mantis' inheritance was paying for the guns, Stingray wasn't 
going to complain too much.  For the moment.  At least the amount 
of money he was demanding would more than compensate him for 
the trouble he was going through.  There might even be enough left 
over for him to give some to "the cause".  Stingray smiled nastily.  
But he doubted it.
	Whatever was wrong with Macduff, it didn't last very long. 
In a few moments, he straightened up again.  And for some reason, 
the others didn't find this surprising, either.  
	"I'd be obliged if ye'd have a word with your butler about 
that," Macduff said, as if this happened all the time, and was only a 
minor annoyance.
	Xanatos shrugged.  "I can mention it, but I don't think it'll 
help.  Owen can't do that sort of thing, anymore."
	Macduff sighed.
	"How long?" Arthur Pendragon asked.  
	"I counted thirty-seven seconds," Mrs. Xanatos said calmly.  
"It could mean anything."
	Pendragon sighed.  
	Stingray was furious.  He'd just pushed a woman to her 
death, and they weren't even fazed by it.  "I don't believe you 
people!  You just watched one of your friends die, and with the 
exception of Bluestone here, you aren't bothered by this!"
	Bluestone looked up, and his eyes were perfectly dry.  "You 
just pushed my partner off a building.  Bothered doesn't begin to 
describe how I feel.  You'll regret this."
	Stingray laughed.  "Really, and who should I be afraid of?  
Them?"--he indicated the Xanatoses, Macduff, and Pendragon--
"The New York Police Department?  I was able to pull this off at a 
Police Officer's Charity Luncheon, wasn't I?"
	"Actually, you should be scared."  Xanatos said coolly.  
"The problem with 'bothering' people with money is that we have 
the resources to hunt you down.  And the New York Police 
Department is good, I'll give them that.  We are the least of your 
worries, however.  You just threw Elisa Maza off the top of a 
building, and I doubt there was one single act you could have done 
to jointly 'bother' the people with the shortest tempers in the city.  
Goliath's clan just got dibs on your hide, and Talon and his crew are 
not far behind.  We're now fairly low on the list of people in line for 
you.  There won't be anything left of you by the time we get you."
	Mrs. Xanatos gave a slight smile.  "Poor little man.  You're 
trying to play the game, and you don't know the rules."
	Bluestone looked surprised.  "There are rules?"
	"Of course." Xanatos said.  "I made them."
	Macduff laughed shortly.  "They're older than that, laddie.  
They were in place before *I* started playing, and that was a long 
time ago."
	"I think I can play this game of yours." Stingray 
commented.  "You'll all be paying me a *lot* of money."
	Mrs. Xanatos laughed again.  "It takes more than money to 
run this.  It takes brains, which you don't have."
	"I set all this up."
	"Thailog said the same thing," Xanatos said speculatively.  
"And you don't have half of his intelligence."
	"Maybe not, but I have the guns, right now, and that makes 
all the difference."  Stingray waved his at them.
	"You don't understand.  Killing Elisa Maza was bad 
enough.  You won the anger of a lot of people, who will hunt you 
down.  Kill us, and you win the anger of a lot more people, people 
who will be only too happy to help Goliath, and make what he'll do 
to you seem like a pleasant dream."
	"Who is this Goliath you keep talking about?" Stingray 
demanded.
	"Your worst nightmare, believe me, when he finds out what 
you've done. *I* never threw Elisa Maza off the top of a building, 
not even when the feud--"
	"Feud?  I think 'clan war' describes it better," Macduff 
scoffed.
	"-- raged the hottest, and he got angry enough with me.  I 
can imagine what he'd do to you.  Probably throw you off the top of 
the tallest building in the city.  I'll be more than happy to let him use 
the castle for the purpose."
	"And the police will let you?" Stingray said, still not 
believing them.
	"The police will have front row seats." Bluestone said 
tightly.
	"What about justice?"
	Pendragon and Macduff exchanged a look, and then 
Pendragon said,  "There are many forms of justice in the world.  By 
throwing the detective off the top of this building, you just subjected 
yourself to ones you never even knew existed.  And, as one of those 
who determines justice, I can assure you, you've been found guilty, 
by my codes.  Macbeth, can say the same.  The verdict is the same 
in every code.  The question is only which system will find you 
first."
	"I'd bet on Goliath," Xanatos offered.
	It couldn't be true.  They had to be bluffing, trying to keep 
their hopes up and make him nervous.  "I don't believe you," 
Stingray said, gesturing to his men to escort them all down again.
	Mrs. Xanatos' grin gave proof of her name "Fox", "Trust 
me, before the night is over, you will."

	She dreamed she was falling. Not an unusual dream, or a 
rare one.  In this one, however, it was daylight out, which meant that 
Goliath couldn't catch her.  She screamed.
	And awoke to find that it wasn't a dream.  She was falling 
through a fogbank towards the red lights of the police cars below.  
The wind of her passing soothed her itching and burning skin, but 
the sight of the lights through the fog coming closer only added to 
her feeling of nausea.  Elisa had a sudden image of herself turning 
into street pizza in front of the few of her co-workers able to come 
in, and the ones they would have called in from other precincts...
	And then with an almost audible snap, her wings caught the 
air current.  She let herself rise with it, banked, and headed for 
Caerleon.

	Demona relaxed once the elevator doors closed behind her.  
She'd finally finished answering questions, and had been able to 
duck into a nearby building.    *Just in time* she thought, feeling the 
changes begin.  She curled over in pain, and yelled, her stomach 
churning as she changed form.  When it was over, she straightened, 
flexing her wings.  It was good to have her own form again.
	She noticed Owen watching her, face expressionless as 
always.  She advanced on him, claws raised.  "This is all *your* 
fault.  I should kill you for it."
	"Would you rather be stone by day, then?" he asked her, in 
that unemotional tone.
	"I would rather have had my own form by day," Demona 
growled,but she settled her wings around her shoulders.  
	"We don't have time to debate the question now.  If you 
have just changed, then the gargoyles are waking up, and we'll need 
their help in stopping the terrorists."
	The elevator doors opened, revealing a red-haired boy, 
standing between two robots in the hallway.  "I brought in the fog, 
Owen."
	"Excellent, Alexander."
	They proceeded to the roof to look out over the scene.  The 
fog blanketed the lower two thirds of the building below them and 
the one which housed the terrorists, screening the upper floors of 
both from the eyes of the police.  Owen inspected the fog critically, 
and said to his pupil, " A few problems, but nothing a little practice 
won't fix, and nothing which will interfere with our current plans.  
Not bad at all."  Alexander glowed with the praise.
	"Are we ready now?" Demona demanded.
	Owen pulled out a flare gun from the helicopter which was 
sitting on top of the roof, lack of a helipad not withstanding.  He 
fired upwards, nodding to Alexander, who raised his hands and 
began sending up bolts of lightning into the sky.  Demona rolled her 
eyes.  

	Elisa felt her dress flapping at her legs and looked down at 
it.  The scoop back was low enough to accommodate her wings, and 
the walking slit in the back, her tail, but the skirt was a bit too 
confining, especially for fighting in.  Climbing up onto that wall had 
lengthened the rip along the side.  But, since one seam was ripped, 
she might as well rip up the other.  She'd never wear this dress 
again, and it would be easier to move in.  Claws which could leave 
marks in metal made short work of the cloth.  There, now she was 
even dressed like a gargoyle.  
	She let her thoughts rove back as she flew towards Caerleon.  
It had been last year.  Fox had been expecting again, and Titania had 
decided that it was a good time for Alexander and his parents to visit 
Avalon.  Fox, of course, had refused to go, especially since she was 
due shortly, unless she had some assurance that she, and her 
husband, and her children, could all go home at the end of it.  So 
Titania had spoken to Oberon, who had decided that the visit was an 
occasion for a "great celebration" which required that *all* the 
honor guard be present.  And since the gargoyles turned to stone by 
day, which would leave the Xanatoses undefended during that time, 
Titania had ordered Elisa to come as  well, getting around the whole 
question of not interfering in human affairs by classifying Elisa as 
part of the "honor guard".  After all, Elisa *had* been present when 
Oberon had declared Goliath's clan to be the honor guard of 
Avalon, and wasn't Elisa part of Goliath's clan, human or not?  
Elisa hadn't wanted to go, not after that trek they'd made last time.  
It was supposed to be for just two weeks--Avalon time, which 
worked out to about a year in the rest of the world, and Elisa hadn't 
wanted to leave New York for a year.  But Titania had made it clear 
that this was what she wanted, and that she would do what she had 
to to make certain that Elisa was there, promising that she'd send 
her home periodically--if Elisa came willingly.  
	It hadn't been a bad two weeks, and Titania had kept her 
promise to send her home.  Eight hour breaks to sleep meant eight 
days back in New York--she could sleep back at home.  It had been 
nice to see Princess Katherine, Tom and the "eggs" again, and even 
more interesting to see the way the trio reacted to the presence of 
substantial numbers of females of their own kind.  No, the problem 
was when she had come back on one of those breaks, to find out 
that her 30th birthday was only a few days away.  The thought of 
turning thirty hadn't bothered her so much as the thought that in 
another 30 years or so, she'd be 60, and Goliath (and the clan) 
would only have aged another 15 years.  Her mistake had been 
mentioning the fact that it was her birthday--and what was bothering 
her about it--to Goliath where Titania could overhear.  Titania, in an 
extraordinarily benevolent mood because Fox and Xanatos had 
named their newly born daughter after "Anastasia", had decided to 
solve that little problem, by granting Elisa a birthday gift.
	It wasn't that she didn't like the ability to turn into a 
gargoyle, or that she wasn't grateful to Titania for the "birthday 
gift".  It was what was going to make it possible for her to get 
together with Goliath, after all.  It was just that every time she 
changed, she thought of Derek.
	In some ways it had been easier when Puck had turned her 
into a gargoyle.  Then she hadn't remembered ever being human, so 
it hadn't hurt to think of Derek.  In fact, she hadn't thought of her 
brother until after it was all over, everything had happened so fast.  
But afterwards, even before she'd found out about Demona's 
human side, she couldn't help thinking that Puck might have been 
able to solve Derek's dilemma.  True, Derek had gotten used to his 
new form.  He was even happy with it.  But this ability to change 
between the two forms at will (which was a definite improvement 
on Demona's situation, even if it meant she turned to stone if she 
tried to change during the day) would have been ideal for him, 
Maggie, and Claw.  They wouldn't have to give up anything to be 
human again.  
	Unfortunately, since she'd been able to persuade Titania that 
she needed to be human at night sometimes, she wasn't about to 
press her luck by asking her to grant the same gift to her brother and 
the other Mutates.  And you simply couldn't return or exchange a 
gift from the Queen of Avalon.  Not when you were currently 
visiting Avalon, and standing before the entire assembled court of 
Oberon's children, at least.
	She would get used to her other form, just as Demona had--
hopefully better than Demona had--but it was taking time.  This 
wasn't the sort of thing she could discuss with a shrink.  She could 
almost hear herself starting out, "Yes, Doctor, I'm having trouble 
trying to adjust to the fact that I can turn myself into a gargoyle."  If 
she were incredibly lucky, they'd just suspend her for working 
herself into a delusional state.  No, she couldn't tell an outsider.  She 
hadn't even told her family.  It was like Derek all over again, and 
she couldn't face them with this.  Not that they needed to know 
anyway.  So she could turn herself into a gargoyle when she wanted 
to?  They didn't ever have to *see* her as a gargoyle.  And what 
they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.  Finding out that yet another 
member of the family didn't spend all of her time as a human, on 
the other hand, might be more painful for them to accept.  
	Goliath was being very patient while she was trying to sort 
everything out in her head.  So far all he'd done was insist that she 
learn how to glide, just in case she ever needed to know.  She'd had 
practice when Puck had cast his spell, of course, but that had been 
simple gliding, nothing fancy, and her one solo flight had been 
catching up to the guys when they'd been humans.  Gliding was 
second nature for a gargoyle, and since she was a gargoyle now, at 
least part of the time, she should be able to do the same tricks that 
the other gargoyles did.  Ducking energy bolts in the air, or knowing 
how to get two pursuing objects to smash each other head on were 
things the others took for granted, and came in handy in a fight.  But 
they were things that were more difficult than they looked, and took 
a strong knowledge of the art of gliding to accomplish.  Despite what 
he had said on that night when Puck had turned everything inside 
out, he couldn't always be there to catch her if she fell--take tonight 
for an example--but he could make certain she could catch herself 
under those circumstances.  And if Elisa thought she could detect an 
ulterior motive behind his occasional suggestions that she work on 
improving her skills at gliding, she was bad enough at it that there 
was some truth to them.
	The light show behind her broke her from her reverie.  She 
puzzled over it for a moment, wondering what could be going on 
back there, when she realized.  Demona, or someone, at least, was 
trying to warn the guys.  Funny, she'd never thought of *that* way 
of attracting their attention.  She let herself relax a little, but not 
much.  They'd be taking off to investigate that light soon, and if she 
wanted to catch them before they left, she'd have to hurry.
	In the distance she could see Caerleon.  The mist hadn't 
covered it, not that she was surprised.  "It's not like it's a *natural* 
fog," she muttered to herself.  She let herself catch the updraft, 
trying not to look down at the city immediately beneath her, or think 
about the fact that she didn't have Goliath's arms to keep her from 
falling onto that city, concentrating instead on Goliath's "warning" 
about updrafts on that night long ago.  She allowed herself to dwell 
on the memory until she circled over Arthur's castle.  Below, on the 
tower, she could just make out figures--with wings.  Good, she'd 
caught them.  She flew down to land...  
	And as usual, misjudged her speed, pulled back her wings at 
the wrong moment and ended up sprawling on the stones.  *At least 
this time, I ended up on my knees, and not my face,* she reflected.  
*I must be getting better.* Gliding was actually not that difficult.  
Landing itself wasn't that hard either--after all, what went up must 
come down.  It was landing gracefully which gave her the most 
problems.  
	Usually she was embarrassed by her inability to land on her 
feet, but she didn't have time tonight.  Goliath reached over to help 
her stand and gave her a warm smile tempered only slightly by 
amusement at her landing.  She blushed slightly as she was 
reminded again of that night when Puck had transformed everyone, 
and how very much she looked like a gargoyle at the moment.  
	"Elisa, are you all right?" he asked.
	"Fine," she said shortly, grateful that it hadn't been one of 
her worse landings.  "But we have a problem."
	"What's with all the lights?" Lex asked, pointing.
	"What's with all the lights is that there are terrorists who are 
holding half the rich and powerful people of the city hostage, 
including Matt, Arthur, Macbeth, Xanatos, and Fox."
	"Where?" Goliath wondered.
	"The Police Officers' Charity Luncheon," guessed 
Broadway.
	"Right," she confirmed.  "And worse, Matt's been shot."
	"What!" Goliath's hand balled into a fist.  Elisa was 
suddenly very glad that the few seconds of stone sleep had healed 
her split lip and bruises.  The last thing they needed was for Goliath 
to go off on a vengeance streak, as he'd been known to do before.  
And if he was that way over Matt...  Better that he *not* find out 
exactly how she'd been in a position to glide over to Caerleon.
	"It's not bad, but it's not good, either.  He's held out for a 
few hours now, but if he doesn't get to a hospital soon, he'll die."
	"We'll get him out of there before then," Goliath said 
firmly.  "Come, we must go to help."
	As he gathered the clan to head off to the rescue, Elisa counted 
them, figuring how large a force they had.  The six guys, plus 
Angela and 25 or so of her brothers and sisters visiting from 
Avalon (Oberon had been kind enough to give them a vacation, but 
kept a minimal honor guard which the clan served in rotating shifts)  
and Griff, of course.  Not a bad showing, actually.
	"Lord Goliath, Sir Griff!" a voice shouted up from the 
courtyard.  Elisa looked out over the crenelations to see Sir Gawain 
and Sir Lancelot running across the stones.  Goliath nodded to 
Broadway and Gabriel, who swooped down to carry the two 
knights up to the tower.
	"We bring you news, my lord," Lancelot said, bowing.  
"His Majesty, Lord Macbeth, and Lady Elisa are held captive by--" 
He broke off and stared when he saw Elisa standing there.
	"They know, Lance.  But thanks for passing along the 
message."  She smiled at his astonishment.  He hadn't known about 
Titania's present.  But Lancelot was ever the charming one, and 
covered his surprise by bowing.
	"We would have come sooner, but traffic was terrible." 
Gawain said.  "I don't suppose you could carry us back to the 
battle..."
	Griff nodded.
	"Very well," Goliath said.  "Broadway, Gabriel, bring them.  
We have no time to lose."
	He caught Elisa's hand and jumped off the tower, leading 
the way towards the lights still flashing up into the sky.

	"What happened?" Goliath asked as they glided above the 
city.
	"Around one-fifteen, a bunch of guys in masks came out of 
the elevator waving guns around.  We tried to hold them off, but 
there were only a handful of us fighting, and about forty of them."  
Elisa glanced back at the impressive contingent of winged creatures 
in the air behind them. "I think we have them outnumbered now, 
though."
	She had to smile, seeing them all there.  The entire clan of 
Wyvern, joining together to fight to defend the city.  It was probably 
the first time that all of the remaining clan had gathered (her grin 
widened at that word) to fight anything.  Tonight was an historic 
occasion.  
	And while their numbers might be small in comparison to 
what they had been a millennium ago, even that would soon change.  
She let her eyes rove along the ranks of gargoyles, noting the 
couples who were gliding close together.  They'd hit a mating year in 
a few more years, and then the numbers would go up even more.  It 
would take time, of course, but assuming another massacre didn't 
occur (and there was no reason why one should), the clan would 
again build itself up to full size.  She would probably see it happen 
by the end of her extended life span.  
	It was a pleasant thought, knowing that she would be there 
to see it.  Titania's gift had given her that not-insignificant 
consolation, however much it played with her own self-identity.  
Not only would she be there when the question of whom Angela 
would mate with would be finally settled (although Elisa had a few 
suspicions of her own as to who that would be) but when Angela's-
-not to mention Brooklyn's, and Broadway's, and Lex's--
grandchildren were old enough to start thinking about that sort of 
thing.  Elisa figured she now had about 100 years left to live.  In the 
normal course of things, anyway.  She pushed away thoughts of 
this evening, and so many others, when she hadn't been so sure 
about her potential lifespan.
	Thinking about Titania's gift and future generations brought 
up another subject, though.  One she and Goliath had been very 
studiously avoiding.  But that, too, was several years away, and she 
was sure that she would have everything resolved in her head as to 
just *what* she was--human or gargoyle or both--by then.  And if, 
for some reason, she hadn't finished sorting it all out, there was 
always the next mating year.  100 years gave her and Goliath both a 
lot of time to work with.
	"Your skills are improving," Goliath rumbled.  
	"Yeah, but I still need to work on landing."  She rubbed her 
knees.  
	"You've done better," he agreed.
	"I never realized how difficult it was.  I'm beginning to 
think that landing on Demona that night when Puck was using the 
mirror was nothing more than a lucky fluke."
	"No, you just need practice.  It's very easy.  Perhaps you're 
thinking about it too much.  Try using your instincts."
	"Why not?  I've tried concentrating on the mechanics of 
everything."  
	Goliath let go of her hand.  "Come then.  We'll practice a bit 
more on the way."  He soared up, looking at her expectantly until 
she followed.
	"No time like the present," she muttered, and smiled, feeling 
oddly optimistic.

	She was still feeling optimistic when they all landed on top 
of the building where Owen and Alexander were holding their light 
show.  And to her pleasure, she came in for a perfect landing--
without any help from Goliath.
	"Excellent.  You're all here," Owen commented, not 
betraying any surprise at her presence--or her appearance.  She'd 
figured that he'd known, despite the fact that she hadn't ever been 
around him in her changed form.  Xanatos kept his aide well 
informed.
	Demona hadn't known though.  Her eyes burned red and 
she lunged for Elisa, claws extended.  "I don't know how you took 
that form, but I'll make you regret you did, human!"
	Elisa didn't bother with explanations which Demona 
wouldn't listen to anyhow.  "We can argue about it later.  We don't 
have time, now."
	"It won't take me long to kill you!" Demona hissed.
	Angela stepped forward.  "I won't let you do this, mother.  
If you're going to kill Elisa, you'll have to fight me."
	"And me," Brooklyn said.  
	"And me," Broadway and Lex said in unison.
	"Count me in too," Gabriel added.
	Goliath stepped in front of Elisa.  "You aren't killing 
anyone, Demona.  Right now we need to rescue the people inside."
	"And what makes you think I want to rescue anyone?" she 
asked archly, her eyes still burning.
	"Maybe you don't want to rescue the people, but I'm sure 
you want vengeance on those terrorists for taking you hostage, and 
working with us is your best chance of having it." Elisa pointed out.  
"If you kill me, you lose that chance."
	Demona kept her hands raised, but Owen interrupted,"The 
detective is right.  We cannot afford to waste time fighting among 
ourselves at the moment."
	"Did *you* have anything to do with this?" Demona turned 
her glare on Owen.
	"Lady Titania's the one responsible," Elisa said shortly.  
"Now, let's get off this building and save those hostages."  Goliath 
took her hand and they stepped to the edge of the crowded rooftop.  
She tried not to look down, even though the fog hid the ground 
below.  She seemed to be jumping off rooftops a lot tonight, but it 
was easier when she wasn't jumping off alone.
	Owen shook his head.  "I'm afraid that it's a bit more 
complicated than that, detective."
	"Oh?" Goliath said, and the gargoyles on the roof paused in 
the act of taking off.
	"Surely you don't think that if it were merely a question of 
terrorists taking Mr. and Mrs. Xanatos hostage, we would have 
waited this long to try and rescue them?"
	"Then what is it?" Elisa asked, not liking the sound of this.
	"The terrorists have planted a bomb and are threatening to 
detonate it if anyone approaches."

	Jason Canmore looked up at the fog overhead, pausing as he 
wheeled his way back to the police "command center" after giving 
an update to reporters.  Around sunset (or what would have been 
sunset if he could have seen the sun) he'd heard a loud shriek from 
above, and even though he couldn't see, he'd recognized that kind of 
cry.  He'd even seen some stone chips rain down.  And for perhaps 
the first time in his life, he'd felt reassured by it.  If the gargoyles 
were around, they'd find a way to rescue Elisa, Bluestone, and the 
other hostages.  
	But that shriek had been all that he'd heard from above, and 
with the fog in the way, he had no idea what--if anything--was 
happening up there.  It wasn't a natural fog--he could tell that much.  
Which meant sorcery.  The question was, whose sorcery?  Elisa had 
told him a little about the sorcery she'd encountered through the 
years of her friendship with the gargoyles.  It wasn't *always* a bad 
thing.  The only sorcerer he knew of personally, though, was the 
Demon--and he knew that she was here, too.  He'd backed up 
Burnett to get her "off to a hospital".  Her changing in front of the 
cops and television cameras was the last thing he needed tonight, 
with this terrorist situation.  Besides which, he didn't trust her.  This 
whole thing could be one of her schemes.  For all he knew, she 
could be aiding the terrorists inside.  
	Not that they needed the help with that bomb.
	He pounded his fist on the arm of his wheelchair.  He was 
stuck out here, when there were people in there who needed his 
help.  Elisa needed his help.  
	He hadn't felt this helpless in a long time.
	Even when he'd first been going through therapy for his 
paralysis, it hadn't been so bad.  Then he'd had Elisa beside him 
offering encouragement, and his mind had been occupied by too 
many other things:  wondering where John was, his and Robyn's 
upcoming trials, and trying to undo the harm they'd done to Elisa's 
friends' reputations.  The media statement that he and Robyn had 
made the day after that fateful night had at least partially worked 
towards that end.  They hadn't told *everything* but their public 
confession that they had blown up the clock tower in an attempt to 
kill the gargoyles, who were the best thing which had happened to 
the city, had reduced the outcry against the clan.  Captain Chavez 
had come out saying that she had never seen a gargoyle, and wasn't 
sure she believed in them--although there was evidence to indicate 
that that *someone* had been living up in the clock tower, 
corroborating *that* much of the Canmores' story--and that the 
reports she'd heard of the reputed gargoyles were by and large in 
their favor, whereas she could be absolutely certain that the 
Canmores had been the ones responsible for the destruction of the 
police station.  All of which gave her no cause to continue the 
Gargoyle task force.  If the city had alligators in the sewers, why not 
gargoyles on the buildings?  The combination of the Canmores' and 
her public statements had confused the public mind, reducing the 
animosity further.  Jason and Robyn had pleaded guilty to the 
charges against them, been sentenced, and the city had moved on to 
the next scandal.
	All in all, things had worked out rather well.  He'd been 
given a certain amount of leniency for saving the life of a police 
officer and his injuries.  By some miracle, he'd been given 
probation (not that he was going to be up to any kind of criminal 
activities from a hospital bed) and then offered the opportunity of 
rejoining the force--as a real representative of the law, this time.  
He'd jumped--figuratively--at the chance.  Since Robyn had been 
the one to launch the missiles, she'd had to serve jail time, but in a 
year or so she'd be up for parole, and Arthur Pendragon had already 
offered her a job as his personal secretary.  It meant working closely 
with the gargoyles too, but Goliath risking his life to save humanity 
had left its impression on her.  She'd taken King Arthur up on the 
offer, not because she needed the work--the Canmores had been 
accumulating money enough through the years to support their 
demon hunting that they were all comfortably well off, even with 
financing the repairs to the police station--but because, as she'd told 
him, "Our family was wrong to kill all of those gargoyles through 
the years.  Maybe it's time we tried to help them, and others too."  
	That left only John, and Jason wasn't sure *where* it left 
him.  He had no idea where John was.  John hadn't responded to 
their plea on the news to give up the chase, and no one had reported 
seeing him in the past four years.  Since Demona was back in town, 
John might be here, or he might not.  "Dominique Destine" had 
been back for six months, though, and Jason had yet to hear 
anything about John, so perhaps he hadn't followed her to New 
York.
	It was a hard won peace they had, marred by the fact that 
John was out there, but peace all the same.  And if anything 
happened to the people in that building--any of them--that peace 
would be lost as far as Jason was concerned.  Robyn had said it.  
The gargoyles had risked their lives to save humanity, which had 
mostly turned on them over the years.  Jason was determined to 
learn from them.  That was why he stayed with the force, despite the 
nasty looks he got from some for his part in destroying the station.  
He hoped that time and openness would soothe their anger, but even 
if it didn't, it was no less than he deserved.  Elisa had confidence in 
him, and even though he understood that it would never go much 
beyond that, it was enough.
	She and a lot of other people were depending on him right 
now, and all he could do was sit here and wait.  He wheeled back 
over to Morgan.  He was looking forward to the end of his 
probation when the courts would finally let him use the hovercraft 
that he'd been modifying to accommodate his disabilities, but for 
now he was grateful for the chance to work out his anger at feeling 
so helpless by pushing the wheels of the non-mechanized chair.  
	"Still nothing," Morgan said.  "They're still threatening to 
shoot the hostages if anyone goes near the place--even in a 
helicopter.  With a third of the city government officials and a lot of 
civilians in there, we can't risk sending in the bomb squad or the 
SWAT team."
	"Wonderful," he muttered.  It was up to the gargoyles now.  

	"A bomb?" Elisa asked, dumbfounded.  "They never said 
anything to us about a bomb!"
	"Perhaps it was to keep the hostages from panicking.  But I 
can assure you it is real," Owen responded.  "Alexander, if you 
would show them..."
	Alexander stepped forward, holding a small hand mirror.  
Elisa had never seen the boy look so solemn.  Not a surprise since 
his parents were being held at gunpoint, and now, apparently, 
threatened with a bomb.  He waved one hand over the glass and it 
glowed green for a moment, then cleared to reveal a mass of 
canisters and wires at the bottom of an elevator shaft.
	*Great.  Just great,* she thought.  "So what do we do now?  
We can't just rush in there, and attack them."
	"Precisely."  Owen said.  "Even if we managed to catch all 
of the terrorists holding guns on the hostages, they could still 
detonate the bomb and blow up us and the hostages together."
	"And themselves," Goliath pointed out.  "What kind of 
terrorists are they?"
	"You find it so surprising that they would risk themselves 
for their cause?"
	"They wouldn't even tell us hostages what their 'cause' is.  
But I'm pretty sure that for the leader, anyway, the 'cause' is the 
almighty dollar,"  Elisa said.
	Goliath shook his head.  "It makes no sense.  If it's money 
he wants, why risk killing himself?"
	"He's holding the Deputy Mayor, the District Attorney, a 
few other important city officials, and the richest and most powerful 
people in the city at gunpoint.  If he's caught, he'll probably get a 
life sentence--at least--and he knows it.  He has nothing to lose," 
Elisa told him.
	"That still doesn't tell us how to stop him," Brooklyn 
insisted.
	"We need a plan."  Goliath stared off into space for a 
moment.
	Owen commented.  "We have to disarm the bomb before 
we can be sure of freeing the hostages."
	"What is this about bombs?" asked a new voice and two 
more figures landed on the roof.
	"Brother!  Sister!" Goliath cried.  "What brings you to 
Manhattan?  Have you succeeded in your quest then?"  
	"Alas, no." Coldfire said.
	"We trailed our brother Coldsteel here to Manhattan, and 
have since lost him.  As we were flying over, looking for him, we 
noticed the lights below and came to investigate," Coldstone 
explained.
	Elisa couldn't help looking at Gabriel as Goliath filled his 
brother and sister in on what was happening.  Like the other "eggs", 
he was awed by the sight of the two cyborg gargoyles.  *He doesn't 
know,* she thought.  She and Goliath hadn't said anything to him.  
The subject hadn't come up before.  Given the difficulties Angela 
and Goliath had gone through, when Angela had discovered her 
parentage, though, it might be better if Gabriel didn't find out.  
Perhaps they should tell Coldstone and Coldfire first and let them 
break the news to Gabriel, or not as they chose.
	She noticed Alexander watching it all with wide eyes.  She'd 
heard how Coldstone's three personalities had finally been 
separated, and the role Alexander had played in that.  She still 
couldn't get over how a tiny baby could work magic that powerful.  
It made her wonder what Alex could do now that he was older, and 
what little Anastasia was capable of already.  She shivered.  *Glad 
they're on our side.*
	"We will help you, Goliath," Coldfire said.  
	Demona inspected her claws.  "This is all very fine and well, 
but your help means nothing if we don't have a plan."
	"We were just working on that."  Owen stepped forward.
	"You!" Coldstone exclaimed, noticing him for the first time.
	"I trust your new bodies are suiting you," Owen said.
	Coldstone's eyes narrowed, but Coldfire took his arm and 
said, "Fine, thank you."
	"Excellent.  As I said, we were working on a plan."
	"I have one." Goliath interrupted.  As the entire rooftop of 
gargoyles, humans and robots looked at him expectantly, he began 
to explain.

	"I don't like this," Demona muttered.
	"We don't have a choice." Elisa told her.  "Unless you've 
come up with a better plan."
	Demona glared at her, but subsided.
	Goliath reached over and pulled the door off its hinges, and a 
small group of gargoyles and robots crept down the stairs.  The 
remaining gargoyles crawled down the walls and waited.
	"Quietly now," reminded Goliath.  
	Footsteps sounded outside the door to the stairs.  "I'm 
telling you, I heard something," someone said.  Everyone pressed 
against the walls on either side of the door to the top floor, or 
scurried back to the roof.
	"What?  I didn't hear a helicopter, and what else could be up 
there?" another person scoffed.
	"I don't know, but I heard *something*," the first voice 
insisted.
	"Fine, we'll look, but I'm telling you--" the door opened.  "-
-no one could possibly--" The second person broke off what he was 
about to say in a gasp right before Goliath's fist connected with his 
face and he landed on the floor in a heap.
	The owner of the first voice had slightly more time to react.  
"Who--what are you?"
	"No one," Demona hissed.  The terrorist fell back to lie on 
the floor with his companion.  
	The gargoyles poured into the hallway.  The two terrorists 
they'd encountered seemed to be the only ones on the floor, but they 
stepped warily, anyhow.  Elisa and Demona both stopped to pick up 
the guns of the fallen men, checking the ammo left automatically.  
Demona said in a tone of contempt, "Trash, but better than 
nothing."
	Goliath shouldered open the doors to the elevator.  "Keep in 
constant contact, Lexington."
	Lex adjusted the radio around his neck--Owen had produced 
several of the things to give to the leaders of each team so everyone 
could communicate with each other.  "I will."
	"We're counting on you to disarm the bomb."
	"If anyone can do it, I can," Lex said, trying to sound 
confident, as he climbed into the dark hole of the elevator shaft.
	"We will do our best, brother." Coldstone added, climbing 
in after and offering a hand to Coldfire.
	"Good luck."  Goliath called after them.

	"How's Anastasia?" Alexander asked as Owen got off of 
his cellular phone.
	"She's asleep."  Owen had been calling to send out more of 
Xanatos security to the area.  They might be needed as 
reinforcements when the fighting started.  
	"Oh."  Alex sighed.
	"Would you like to go home and sleep as well?" Owen 
asked him, concerned.  Today had been a long day for the boy, and 
it wasn't really safe here, although if Alexander was in any danger, 
Owen could use his powers to save him.  
	"No, I'll stay here until we've saved Mommy and Daddy."  
Alexander climbed up into Owen's lap.  "*Are* Mommy and 
Daddy going to be all right?"  His young voice was almost 
trembling with worry, and barely held back tears.
	"We're doing all that we can, Alexander." But he gave Alex 
a brief hug before setting the boy down and rising to his feet 
himself.
	"Have no fear, boy," Sir Lancelot said confidently.  "The 
villains in the tower will stand no chance against his Majesty, Sir 
Griff, and Lord Goliath and his clan.  I only wish that I, too, could 
join the fight against them."
	"Know the feeling, Lance, but we can't fight in every 
battle."  Gawain pulled out his binoculars, and trained them on the 
building where the fight was about to start.  "*Someone* has to 
coordinate everything, and *someone* needs to stand in reserve.   
Besides, there are enough of them that they don't need us, anyway."
	"True, of course, my friend, but all the same, I cannot help 
wishing that I were fighting as well."
	"There'll be other fights, Lance.  Don't worry."  Gawain 
lowered the binoculars, and rested a hand on Alex's shoulder.  
"And you, too, kid:  don't worry.  We're going to do our best to 
make sure the bad guys don't win."

	Griff, Brooklyn and Gabriel clung to the wall and waited.
	"We're here," Lex's voice sounded over their headsets.  
"It's not pretty, but I think I can disarm it."
	"How long will it take?" they head Goliath ask.
	"Depends on how long it takes me to figure out what wires 
to pull."
	"Be careful, Lex," Elisa cautioned.  
	"I will."
	Brooklyn looked at the other two gargoyles.  "They're 
almost ready."
	"Then we'd better move into position," Griff said.  
	Griff and Gabriel gestured to the other gargoyles clustered 
against the wall and let go.  Their respective squads joined them in 
the air and they flew off to take up the positions from which they'd 
launch the attack on the terrorists inside.  Brooklyn dug his claws 
into the wall a little tighter and watched them go, Gabriel in 
particular.
	He hadn't missed the way Angela had greeted Gabriel when 
they'd gone back to Avalon, nor had he missed how she'd been 
eager to show him the sights of New York when the Avalon 
gargoyles had arrived for their "vacation".  Oh, there hadn't been 
anything very overt--no exclamations like, "My love!", but there 
had been *something* there, something which made him wonder if 
there was more between the two than simple rookery brother and 
sister.  
	It wasn't *that* surprising.  After all, the two of them had 
grown up together.  And Gabriel was one fine specimen of a 
gargoyle--not that he, himself--or Broadway, or Lexington--were 
that shabby either.  No wonder she hadn't been that impressed with 
their attempts at bravado during that little incident with Brod.  Not 
that Brooklyn was proud of them.  He still couldn't believe he'd let 
Lex and Broadway's attitudes rub off.  And while he could honestly 
say that he hadn't started the boasting sessions and attempts to 
show-off, and that he'd tried to put all of that aside when there was 
real work to be done, he knew perfectly well they shouldn't have 
happened at all.
	Angela forgiven them for all of that, though, and even now, 
she wasn't ignoring them to spend all of her time alone with 
Gabriel.  If anything, she seemed more interested in having all of 
them--himself, Broadway, Lex, and all of her rookery brothers and 
sisters--doing things together.  Like that barbecue they'd had on the 
beach by Caerleon a week ago.  He'd been surprised no one had 
come investigating, the music had been so loud.  Or the time on 
Avalon when she'd included them when she and her brothers and 
sisters had planned to go swimming at their favorite spot by a 
waterfall.  It was as if she were trying to make them all one family.
	As Goliath's second-in-command, he could see the logic of 
that.  After all, they *were* all one family, even if they were of 
different generations.  And even that didn't matter any more, since 
they were all roughly the same age.  Spending time together helped 
end any awkwardness from their different histories that the two 
groups of gargoyles might feel, and seal clan unity.
	As just Brooklyn, he was glad to have large numbers of 
rookery brothers and sisters again.  He'd missed the feeling of 
having lots of brothers and sisters around.  Not that he hadn't had 
Broadway and Lex, of course, but going from a large family down 
to three--well six, including Goliath, Hudson, and Bronx--had been 
tough, especially when the reason had been the massacre.  It had 
almost been prophetic, though, when they'd escaped because they'd 
been spending the day in the rookery.  Now, instead of being dust 
along with their own rookery brothers and sisters, the three of them 
were alive and becoming just three more of "the eggs", as his old 
friend Tom still called them.
	It was entirely possible that Angela hadn't made up her 
mind, yet, but even if she had decided that Gabriel was the one she 
loved, she had made certain that the three New Yorkers had met and 
were friendly with those fifteen sisters of hers.  And some of them 
were kind of cute.
	"What's the word?" Ophelia asked crawling up the wall to 
come alongside of him.
	"Lex has reached the bomb," Brooklyn answered, forcing 
his thoughts back to the task at hand.  "Now we have to see if he 
can disarm it."
	"And what if he doesn't?"
	"Uh, then the building and everyone inside goes boom."
	She shivered.  "I hope he can disarm it."

	So did Lex.  Whoever had made the thing hadn't known all 
that much about bombs, which might have been a good thing, if 
they hadn't run all kinds of wires in strange places, all of which 
were incredibly sensitive.  And since Lex himself knew more about 
computers than bombs, he and the bomb were a bad combination.  
He hoped it wouldn't be a fatal one.
	Coldstone and Coldfire hung in the elevator shaft above him.  
They could have hovered using their jet packs, but that was a bad 
idea in the small space of the elevator.  Even the small flame 
Coldfire had lit in her palm so they could see better was risky.  
	"It has several canisters of explosives attached to a remote 
controlled detonator," he said in response to Coldstone's question a 
few moments earlier.  "I think that I can disarm it if I pull the right 
wire.  The question is, which wire?"
	"Why not just try them all?"  Coldstone asked.
	Lex shook his head.  Evidently Coldstone didn't watch 
much television.  "If I pull the wrong one, we'll all go sky high."  
Making a mental note to pick up a book on bombs when this was 
over--if they all survived--he crawled a little farther down the wall to 
get a closer look.  

	As they crept along the corridors, Goliath turned to Elisa and 
murmured, "Are you sure they have not moved the hostages?"
	"Pretty sure," she said, adding more to herself than to him, 
"It's not like they were expecting me to go for help."
	"What was that?" Goliath asked.
	"What?  Oh, nothing.  Just thinking."  Elisa hoped he 
wouldn't press her for more.
	"Oh."  They crept a bit farther, when he said, "I--ah--noticed 
that you didn't change back."
	"I didn't exactly have time.  Besides, until I picked up the 
gun," she hefted it, "I didn't have any weapons, either."
	"Ah." He was silent once more, and she thought it was 
over, until he asked, "How did you manage to escape from the 
terrorists?"
	How to field that one?  "Uhh--I'll tell you later.  It's a long 
story."
	He nodded and spoke into his transmitter, "Lexington, how 
much longer will it take to defuse the bomb?"
	They both heard him answer, "I've narrowed it down to 
three wires, but I'm not sure which one it is."
	"Don't guess, Lex," Elisa cautioned.  "This isn't a TV 
show, you know, and you're more likely to pick the wrong wire 
than the right one."
	"I know."
	"Be careful, Lexington.  You don't want to take unnecessary 
chances."  Goliath said
	"I won't.  I've almost--wait, I hear something.  Someone's 
coming."
	Goliath held up a hand to call a halt to the others creeping 
through the hallways, and they all listened, helpless to prevent what 
followed.  
	"We'd better check on the--hey, what the--" came a voice 
over the transmitters.
	"Just shoot it!" came another.
	The gargoyles in the hallway stared at each other in horror as 
they listened to the sounds of gunfire and shouts.
	"Don't hit the bomb!" they heard one of the terrorists say.
	"Hold still, you--rat!" yelled the other.
	"Lexington!" Goliath almost yelled, forgetting to keep his 
voice down.
	They heard a shot echo off the walls of the elevator and 
Lex's yell, followed by a burst of static and finally, silence.  The 
gargoyles in the hallway were too stunned to speak.
	"Lex!" Brooklyn's voice sounded over the transmitter.  In 
the background, they could hear his claws grinding the wall he must 
be clinging to outside--as unable to help as they were in the hallway.
	Bronx moaned, and Hudson patted him, "I know, boy.  I 
know."
	Elisa gripped Goliath's arm.  "Should we give up?"  She 
put the arm that wasn't gripping Goliath's, around the shoulders of 
a weeping Angela.  She felt empty inside.  Lex--gone.  Now she 
knew how they all must have felt when they'd heard her "die" over 
Goliath's transmitter on that night when Goliath had fought Jason 
and the Hunters on the dam.  
	"Maybe he isn't dead," she said, trying to comfort Angela.  
"Maybe he just got knocked out or something.  And Coldstone and 
Coldfire were there as well.  They'd look after him, and they're 
impervious to bullets.  Remember, I wasn't dead when I fell off the 
dam."  She was floundering.
	"Lexington will have his revenge," Demona declared, and 
Elisa realized that she was trying to comfort her daughter in her own 
way.  "But now we must hurry.  If those terrorists tell their leader 
about Lexington, we'll have lost the element of surprise."
	"Demona's right," Goliath said, lifting his head.  "We can 
mourn him later.  But now we cannot be certain that Lexington 
disarmed the bomb, so it is more important than ever that we catch 
them by surprise.  And then they will pay for what they have done."  
His eyes glowed white with anger.  "Come!"

	"What happened?" Ophelia asked.
	"The terrorists heard Lex in the elevator and shot at him.  
We've lost contact."  Brooklyn dug his claws a bit deeper into the 
wall, realizing that he was making a large hole which people might 
wonder about if they ever saw it, but not caring.  
	"Oh, no!" she exclaimed and set a hand on his shoulder.  
"I'm so sorry."
	Brooklyn heard the other gargoyles on the wall below him 
murmuring and one of them called, "Does this mean we're not 
going after them?"
	"Oh we're going after them all right." Brooklyn clenched 
his fist, his eyes glowing.  "Just that much sooner."

	Goliath stood beside the door leading to the room where the 
hostages were being held.  "Is everyone ready?" he said into the 
transmitter.
	"Ready" Brooklyn said his voice low with anger.
	"When you give the word, lad," Hudson tested the edge of 
his sword.
	"Right-o" Griff patted the electron discharge gun at his 
waist.
	"Ready." Gabriel flexed his wings.
	"The Steel Clan robots are in position," Owen said in the 
Xanatos Enterprises helicopter on the nearby rooftop.
	"Now!" Goliath roared.

		The room where the hostages were held had 
windows on three sides, with several doors on the fourth side 
leading to the hallway onto which the elevator and stairs opened.  
When the terrorists had stormed the room, they had come in via the 
doors and thus prevented the people inside from leaving.  If any 
counterattack came, they might have expected it to come from those 
doorways, or even the emergency exits.
	They weren't expecting it to come from the windows as 
well.
	With a loud crash, the windows shattered inwards as a 
dozen Steel Clan robots flew in.  For a moment they were too 
shocked to react, and then one of them fired, the bullet making a 
pinging sound as it hit the metal exoframe of the robot.  He fired 
again with the same result, and a few more started shooting their 
guns.  The Steel Clan closed on them, and in that moment, while 
they were distracted, a group of gargoyles flew in each window, 
claws raised and roaring.
	"Get down!" Brooklyn yelled at a few of the hostages who 
were watching, as frozen as the terrorists had been.  Idiots.  They'd 
get themselves killed by a flying bullet or laser beam.
	Two of the terrorists seemed to realize that the robots were 
impervious to the bullets, and turned to run, only to be stopped short 
by more "monsters" in the doorways.  Goliath grabbed the gun one 
of them tried to turn on him, and bent it out of shape, dropping it to 
the floor.  Goliath reached for him, growling.  The terrorist behind 
them tried to dodge around the two, and instead met with Angela, 
who advanced on him.  A few more broke for the doors, 
successfully avoided Goliath and Angela and made it as far as the 
hallway outside, by the elevators, only to be greeted with: 
	"Freeze!  Police!"  
	They turned around slowly and saw two more "monsters" 
armed with guns.
	Demona said coldly, sighting down the barrel, "I'm not 
having a good day, and killing you would improve it dramatically."
	"Drop your weapons and put your hands up,"  Elisa's eyes 
glowed as she raised her own weapon.
	The guns clattered to the floor and the terrorists' hands 
reached for the sky.

	Back inside, a few of the terrorists were still shooting.  
Brooklyn stepped up to one, tapped him on the shoulder and said, 
"Hello," before hitting him.  He caught the gun as the terrorist fell, 
and crunched it, turning to see how the others were doing and find a 
new opponent.  Goliath was throwing a terrorist against a wall.  
Griff was firing off a blast from his gun, felling another terrorist.  
Broadway was advancing on a third claws raised.  Angela and 
Ophelia were back to back fighting two more.
	A knock in the back sent him sprawling.  He rolled over to 
face this new attacker, and saw him lift his gun up to fire.  Brooklyn 
threw up an arm, knowing that it was useless at this close a range, 
when a chair came down on the man's head.  He crashed to the 
floor.  Gabriel leaned over and helped Brooklyn to his feet.  "Are 
you all right?"
	Brooklyn rubbed at the sore spot on his back.  "I'll be fine."  
In the short time that the terrorist had attacked him, the fight had 
ended.  The floor was littered with unconscious terrorists, crunched 
pieces of what had once been guns and in the corners of the room, 
quivering hostages.
	"We found these two trying to go down the emergency 
exit." Hudson walked in, one more terrorist thrown over his 
shoulder, with Bronx dragging another in by the collar.  "Is that all 
of them, then?
	"Nope, we have a few more," Elisa called, nudging her 
prisoners in the doorway, careful to keep them between herself and 
any hostages who might see her.  Things were going so well, the 
last thing she and Demona wanted was for their secrets to come out, 
which was why they'd stayed in the hallway in the first place. 
	"Is anybody hurt?"  Goliath included the hostages as well in 
his gaze.
	The gargoyles looked around at each other.  There were a 
few, inevitable, wounds:  a couple of laser burns, a number of 
grazes, lots of bruises forming, and a bullet to the leg, which one 
poor gargoyle had taken, but by some miracle, nothing a day's sleep 
wouldn't cure.  
	"We're basically fine, but I don't know about them." 
Brooklyn pointed to the hostages, who were still frozen in shock 
and fear.
	"How's Matt?" Elisa tried to peer around the prisoners she 
was keeping between herself and the humans in the room.
	"Where *is* Matt?" Broadway scanned the faces of the 
hostages.  
	"For that matter, where are His Majesty and Lord 
Macbeth?" Griff wondered.
	"And Xanatos and Fox," Goliath agreed.  
	"Wherever they are, they aren't here," Gabriel said.
	Elisa stepped a bit closer and stared at the terrorists on the 
floor.  "Their leader isn't here either.  They must have taken Matt 
and the others somewhere else.  But where?"  
	Goliath grabbed the shirt of one of the terrorists Elisa and 
Demona had been herding in, and shoved him up against the wall.  
"Where are your leader and our friends?"
	"No way we're going to tell," the terrorist braved.
	Goliath growled and raised his claws, his eyes glowing.  The 
terrorist screamed.  "No!  I don't know where they took them, 
really.  Stingray didn't say.  He and a few others moved them 
somewhere else.  But they're in the building somewhere.  Honest!"
	Goliath threw him to the floor where he crouched, cowering.  
"He may be telling the truth.  But we cannot go searching from 
room to room looking for them.  We have to reach them before this 
Stingray even knows we are here."
	"How do you propose to find them, then?" Demona asked 
spitefully.
	Goliath narrowed his eyes at her, and took the transmitter 
around his neck in his hand.  "Perhaps there is another way."
	"Alexander says that they are in a room two floors down," 
Owen's voice came over the transmitter.  "The leader is there, and 
three others, all armed with guns.  It would appear that they don't 
know we've attacked.  All the same, though, you had better hurry."
	"We will."  Goliath looked up.  "Hudson, Bronx, Griff, 
you're with us.  The rest of you stay here."
	"What about me, Goliath?" Angela asked him.  "Matt's 
been wounded, and I can help."
	Goliath shook his head.  "I think Matt is beyond the abilities 
of anything but a hospital, now."  He gestured at the room.  
"Besides, they need your skills here."
	She nodded.  Goliath touched her chin, and then turned, 
adding over his shoulder as he left,  "Guard the terrorists.  And 
*try* to help these poor people."  
	One of the hostages moaned in fear.  Brooklyn sighed.  
"You know, we *still* have to work on that PR problem."

	"What about the bomb?"  Griff asked as they ran down the 
stairs.
	"If anyone has the detonator, the leader would."  Elisa 
panted.  
	"Then perhaps we should have the others get the hostages 
out of the building," Hudson suggested.
	"The way those humans are, I don't think they're going 
anywhere."  Demona said contemptuously.
	"Quiet," Goliath cautioned, "We're here."

	Angela checked the bandage (made from  a ripped up 
tablecloth) around Raphael's leg.  It was a little bit red, but the fact 
that it wasn't soaked in blood was a good sign.  Cordelia was 
holding his hand and trying to be calm, but, looking up from her 
examination of the wound, Angela saw worry in her rookery 
sister's eyes.  "You'll be fine," she said, as much for Cordelia's 
benefit as for Raphael's.  Cordelia breathed a small sigh of relief and 
then began soothing, "It's not so bad, my love..."
	Angela picked up her makeshift bandages and headed back 
over to where Brooklyn, Broadway, and Gabriel were keeping an 
eye on the terrorists.  "That's the last of them."
	"How does our rookery brother?" Gabriel asked.
	"Raphael will be fine after tomorrow.  Cordelia's with him.  
I'll take out the bullet when we get home.  Now, all that I have left 
are the hostages."
	"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Broadway asked.
	"They've been in here since this afternoon, and have just 
been bystanders in a shoot-out.  They could have been hurt."
	Brooklyn glanced over at them.  "Somehow, I think we 
would have heard more screaming."
	"Well, *someone* has to make sure they're all right."
	"If you really want to, Angela."  Brooklyn sighed, shaking 
his head.  The three stepped back and let her pass.
	Angela plastered a smile on her face.  It wouldn't be easy, 
she knew, but she was right.  *Someone* had to make certain these 
people were all right.  Some of them might need to go to the 
hospital right away.  And right now, she was the closest thing to a 
doctor they had.  
	She'd known she was interested in what the humans called 
"medicine" since that morning when Elisa had resuscitated her, but 
thinking back, she had probably had a tendency for it even before 
then.  She'd bandaged Brooklyn's arm when he'd been shot that 
time they'd been helping Elisa on the subway.  And now she was 
determined to know as much as she could about it.  True, there 
weren't too many gargoyle diseases and injuries which couldn't be 
healed by a good day's sleep, but there were times--like that night 
when the Hunters had attacked her--when they first had to survive 
until morning.  Human medicine was useful at times like that.  And 
it wasn't just gargoyles she wanted to help.  Humans weren't really 
all that bad.  Oh, there were a few nasties, but most of them were a 
lot like gargoyles, just trying to muddle through.  
	Actually, she wanted to help almost everyone.  That was part 
of who she was.  Which was why she was trying to help these 
humans, now, even though they were frightened, and not just 
because of their recent ordeal.  
	She came over to the closest ones, a man--the Deputy 
Mayor--and his wife, who was white-faced with terror.  As she 
approached, the woman gave a small shriek and fainted.
	The Deputy Mayor reached for his wife, touched her face 
and then turned an accusatory glare on Angela.  "I don't think she's 
breathing.  This is all *your* fault!"
	Angela gave an inward sigh.  Why was *that* always the 
first thing they came up with?  It was enough to make her want to 
take up psychology as a hobby instead of medicine.  Even after 
she'd made a point of helping out her brothers and sisters where the 
hostages could see to show the humans she meant them no harm.  
There were times when she could almost understand her mother's 
attitude.  Although Demona was a champion blameshifter, herself.  
Angela fortified herself with patience.  You couldn't expect to 
change attitudes of centuries in a few minutes.
	She leaned forward to check the woman.  "I think she's still 
breathing.  But if she isn't, it's all right.  I know CPR."
	The man became, if possible, even more pale.
	Angela sighed again.  This was going to be harder than 
she'd thought.

	Stingray hung up the phone and tapped his fingers on the 
desk.  The cops were arguing for more time.  More time to bring in 
cops from other precincts, more likely.  They'd already had to bring 
in a quite a few so far.  He'd been watching the news reports.  Since 
he'd informed them about the bomb, they'd been taking his 
demands for money more seriously--after what happened to the 
World Trade Center, they weren't taking any chances.  They'd cave 
in eventually, though.  They had no choice.  
	"So.  They haven't given in yet," said Xanatos archly.  
Stingray wondered why he hadn't bothered to gag him again after 
having him talk to his majordomo, Burnett.  Well, at least the only 
other one who wasn't gagged was Bluestone, who wasn't in any 
condition to talk, anyway.
	"What if they don't give in?"  Mantis asked, turning away 
from guarding the prisoners.  Mantis was getting out of hand, 
Stingray decided.  When the various people finally paid up, he'd kill 
Mantis along with these troublesome hostages.
	"Oh, they'll give in." He put his hands behind his head and 
lounged back in the desk chair.  "I have a winning hand."
	"Then perhaps it's time someone dealt a new one," a low 
voice rumbled.
	Stingray spun around in the chair, reaching for the gun he'd 
left on the desk.  But when he saw what came crashing through the 
doorway, he gasped.  Monsters!  Batwinged, clawed monsters with 
glowing eyes.
	The purple one in front caught his gun as he brought it up to 
fire, and yanked it out of his hands.  To Stingray's astonishment, the 
creature crunched it in its hands and dropped the pieces on the floor, 
growling.  What were these things, anyway?  He barely ducked out 
of the way as the thing reached for him.  Stingray picked up the 
chair, hoping to fend it off, and backed away slowly.  He'd heard 
that animals didn't attack if you moved slowly.
	Apparently these creatures hadn't.  Out of the corner of his 
eye he saw a brown one of them slam Piranha into the wall.  One 
more--this one with a beak, fired some sort of gun at Barracuda, 
who collapsed.  Another one, this one without wings, was 
advancing on Mantis.  
	It looked like the time had come.  So he wouldn't get the 
money.  At least he'd have the satisfaction of taking these rich 
people with him.  And the monsters.  And where they were all 
going, money wouldn't do any of them any good.  He threw the 
chair at the monster, and pulled the device out of his pocket.
	"Goliath!  Stop him!  He's got the detonator!" he heard a 
female voice shriek.
	The purple creature leaped for him, reaching for the 
detonator.  Stingray jerked his hand back and pushed the button.
	"No!!" someone yelled.  It might have been the female 
voice again.  Or Mantis.  Or himself.  
	The creature fell back and grabbed for someone or 
something.  
	Stingray tensed up, waiting for the explosion.
	Nothing happened.  
	The creature in front of him uncurled.  Frantic, Stingray 
pushed the button again.  Nothing.  What was wrong?  The bomb 
should have gone off by now.
	The creature grabbed him by the front of his shirt and 
hoisted him up in the air.  The detonator clattered to the floor.  
Stingray swallowed, his mouth gone dry with fear.  
	Someone bent down and picked up the detonator, and the 
female voice commented, "It looks like Lex came through for us, 
one last time."  
	From his position he had a clear view of the woman who 
had spoken, and his blood ran cold in his veins.  Detective Maza's 
clothes were ripped up a bit, and she now sported wings, claws, 
fangs, and a tail, but he knew her almost instantly.  He began to 
shake.  She was supposed to be dead!  He'd killed her!
	"You're a demon!"  He said in horror.
	She actually laughed a little.  "I'm afraid you've mistaken 
me for her."  She pointed at someone Stingray couldn't see.
	"But I killed you!  I pushed you off the roof!  You should 
be dead!" he babbled.
	"What?!!" the creature roared and tightened his grip on 
Stingray's throat.
	"Goliath, no!  You can't kill him."  The creature who was 
Maza caught the arm the purple creature wasn't using to hold 
Stingray in the air.
	"He tried to kill you!"  Stingray felt the creature's claws dig 
into his skin.  
	"But he didn't kill me."
	"And what about Lexington?"
	"What about me?"  Another of the creatures crawled in the 
door, flanked by two metal ones, and Stingray's fear went up a 
notch.  More of them!
	"Lexington!" the purple monster exclaimed.  Maza ran 
joyfully hug the newcomer.  "We thought you died!"
	"Nah.  Coldstone knocked me out of the way.  I'm afraid 
the transmitter got destroyed when it fell off, though."  
	"Is that it?" Maza pointed at the wires the creature was 
holding.
	"Nope.  This is from the bomb."  The new creature held it 
up.  "The terrorist's shot took out one of those wires I was 
wondering about, and I was able to figure out which of the two 
remaining wires was the right one.  I was actually more worried that 
we'd set off the bomb by fighting around it, so once I'd cut the wire 
to disarm it, I made sure that it wouldn't ever go off again.  Then 
Coldstone, Coldfire and I climbed up the elevator shaft until we 
heard the sound of coming fighting from this floor.  Did we miss 
much?"
	"You're just in time." Maza turned back to the creature 
she'd called "Goliath".  "See.  Lex isn't dead.  I'm not dead.  And 
Matt needs our help."
	"He still tried to kill you, and he preyed on the innocent.  
And for that he will pay."  The purple creature's claws dug a little 
deeper.
	"Leave him to the police, Goliath," Maza said gently.
	"No.  It would be too easy for him to escape justice if left 
him to the police.  And there *will* be justice for his crimes."
	"I promise you.  If the courts let him off scot-free, I'll 
*help* you chase him down."  Maza's eyes glowed red, and 
Stingray found himself shivering again at the sight of it.
	"Courts, or no courts, if *I* ever get my hands on him, I'll 
make him regret this." Stingray couldn't turn his head to see who 
spoke, but the voice reminded him of Dominique Destine's.
	Xanatos, who had been silent throughout the fight, now 
muttered.  "I think we can all say the same."
	"Yes, for once we all agree."  Stingray found himself 
sprawling on the floor.  The purple creature continued,  "If you 
should *ever* for some reason escape justice, we will hunt you 
down and we will *kill* you."  It roared.  Stingray screamed and 
fled without a backward glance.  He ran for the elevator, pushing the 
button frantically before, sure that they were after him, he raced for 
the stairs.

	"Matt?"  
	Matt blinked slightly, but couldn't get his eyes to focus.  He 
had a vague recollection of a fight:  lots of roaring which meant the 
guys.  
	But he was *so* tired.  The leader of the terrorists had 
brought the five of them here to his command center and tied them 
all up, which had started his shoulder bleeding again.  
	More voices.
	"He isn't doing well, Elisa."  Fox, he identified.
	"Matt.  We're going to take you to a hospital.  Do you think 
you can make it if we take you down the elevators, or should we fly
you there?"
	"I think you'd better fly him, my lady."  Was that Macbeth 
or King Arthur?  If only he could see clearly.
	"I'll take him there right away," Goliath offered.  That voice 
he knew.
	"Perhaps it would be better if I took him in the helicopter."  
Now that was strange.  Where was Burnett's voice coming from?
	"By all means, Owen." The great Mr. X. himself 
responded.
	"Matt?"  Elisa again.
	"Elisa?" he managed.  With an effort, he made his eyes 
focus.  There was something odd about her.  He puzzled for a 
minute, and then realized what it was.  "Your dress--it's ripped."
	She laughed a little.  What was so funny, anyway?  "I know, 
Matt.  It's okay."

	Elisa watched the helicopter disappear into the night.  It was 
probably for the best, anyway.  This way they didn't have to invent 
excuses about how they'd got Matt to the hospital.  
	It was almost over.  Hudson had managed to literally hold 
Demona back from going after "Stingray" herself after Goliath had 
let him go.  The other terrorists had been routed--Xanatos' own 
security force was standing guard over them, now, preparing to 
escort them outside and into the waiting hands of the police.  The 
hostages had been freed--if they could only convince them that their 
rescuers weren't more dangerous than the terrorists had been.  And 
Matt hadn't found out this latest secret.  All she had left now, was to 
go back downstairs and try to explain all of this.  
	She looked down at herself.  Well, that, and change back 
into a human.  
	Goliath noticed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, 
over her cloaked wings.  "How are you doing?"
	She knew he wasn't asking about whether she'd been hurt at 
all in the fight.  "I'm not sure.  You know it's strange.  I wasn't 
thinking about my brother much tonight.  Part of me thinks that 
may be a sign that I'm getting used to this.  And part of me is 
feeling guilty *because* I didn't think about him at all.  Now that he 
and Maggie are going to be parents, I can't help thinking how useful 
this would for them--and maybe the baby, too.  If I could give it to 
them, somehow..."
	He turned her to face him.  "But you cannot, any more than 
wishing themselves human again can make it so.  They had to find 
the courage to accept their situations, and they succeeded.  As can 
you."
	"I know.  It's just..."
	"Do you think their love for you will change because of 
Titania's gift?"
	"I don't know."  Elisa drew a slow breath.  "Did yours?"
	"As you said once:  'We are what we are.'  Human or 
gargoyle, you are Elisa."
	They stood there in silence for a minute, gazing up at the 
sky, the two of them alone on the rooftop.  Elisa pulled away from 
his arm with a sigh.  "Unfortunately, Elisa the human has a job to 
do right now.  I'd better change and get this over with, so I can go 
home and get some rest."  She stepped back, closed her eyes, and 
drew a deep breath.  
	Her stomach twisted with nausea, and her skin burned like 
fire.  Her back felt as if someone were clawing at it.  Goliath 
grabbed her arm to steady her, and she somehow managed to keep 
from screaming.  And as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.  Her 
hands had five fingers again, and the human Elisa was standing, 
barefoot and shivering, on the top of the building she had been 
pushed off of earlier in the evening.
	Goliath wrapped something around her shoulders.  "Here."
	Her jacket.  It felt like a lifetime since she'd taken it off, so 
her wings wouldn't rip it up when they burst through her skin.  
Which meant that her shoes were around someplace as well.
	"It's probably just as well Demona had already left before 
you changed back into a human.  I'm not certain how she would 
have reacted."
	Finding her shoes in the dark, Elisa slipped them back on 
her feet.  "Yes.  And it's probably just as well Owen thought up that 
excuse that the reason why she didn't go to the hospital was because 
she wanted her own doctor to examine her.  That saves us the 
trouble of trying to explain why *she* never made it to the hospital, 
when the person who was supposed to be taking her is bringing 
Matt."
	She stretched once, and starting walking for the door.  And 
now to help convince the hostages they were safe.  Seeing Goliath 
hadn't joined her, she looked back over her shoulder and asked.  
"Coming?"
	He smiled, caught up to her, and took her arm as the two set 
off for the stairs.

	"Look.  You have to believe me.  Detective Maza is a 
monster!" The leader of the terrorists was babbling.  "Wings, 
claws, a tail!  A monster."
	"Really," said Jason Canmore, doing his best to keep from 
laughing.  So the gargoyles had helped out in this little fight.  That 
was good to know.  But apparently the sight of Elisa's friends had 
been enough to turn the terrorist's brain.  He was seeing gargoyles 
everywhere, now.
	"Yes, really!  I pushed her off of the roof tonight, and then 
she came back as a monster!"
	The terrorist's admitting that he'd tried to kill Elisa only 
increased Jason's dislike of the man.  That must have been what the 
scream was.  He shuddered to think what would have happened if 
the guys hadn't been there to catch her.  Or if they'd missed...  But 
he was a cop now, and that meant he couldn't give in to his urge to 
wring the terrorist's neck.  On the other hand, the terrorist had made 
a very bad mistake...
	"Huh?  You don't say?"  Morgan was commenting.
	"Yes.  I pushed her off the roof, and then when I saw her 
again she had wings."
	"You do realize that you just admitted to trying to kill a 
police officer," Morgan pointed out, smiling a bit smugly.  "We'll 
add that to the charges."
	Jason had caught a glimpse of the door, and he smiled 
himself.  "As for your monster, look for yourself," pointing.  
	Detective Elisa Maza NYPD, and looking as human as they 
came, was emerging from the building, helping the Deputy Mayor 
walk his wife out.  The terrorist leader's eyes almost bulged out.  
For a moment he was quiet, and then he began again, "But I'm 
telling you, she *was* a monster!"
	Behind Elisa, Macbeth and Arthur staggered out, followed 
by Mr. and Mrs. Xanatos.  All of them seemed to be having a bit of 
trouble walking, but the Xanatoses sped up when they caught sight 
of their son in the arms of that Gawain character who worked for 
Arthur.  Alex hopped out of Gawain's arms and raced to his 
parents, yelling, "Mommy!  Daddy!"
	"Alex!" Fox and Xanatos exclaimed in unison and scooped 
him up for a hug.
	"Are you all right, son?" Jason heard Xanatos ask.
	"Owen took care of me."  Alex assured them.  
	"He always does," Xanatos said with satisfaction.
	"Where's Anastasia?" Fox wondered.
	"She's asleep.  Owen said that this place wasn't really safe  
for babies, so we left her at home."  Jason saw Fox relax visibly.  
Alex continued, as if the whole day hadn't happened, "Did you see 
what I did?"  Jason had to smile.  Even the kids of the rich and 
famous had their fingerpaints, he supposed.
	"Yes, son." Xanatos said, Fox adding, "And we were so 
proud of you."  The two of them hugged their son again.  
	Jason noticed Elisa watching, a smile on her face, and 
wheeled over to her.  "I see you and your friends took care of 
things."
	"We had a little help.  And if anyone asks, they'll probably 
be Xanatos Security," she pointed to where Xanatos' agents were 
leading terrorists out of the building.  "Although we still have to 
work out the details.  We had a lot of credible witnesses this time, 
so that complicates things.  But they all seem to be in shock."
	"Will Matt be all right?"  Jason grew serious.  Gawain and 
Lancelot had told them about Owen taking Bluestone to the hospital 
when they had brought Alex down from the top of the nearby roof.
	"I think so.  It wasn't a bad wound, he's just lost a lot of 
blood."
	The two of them headed back over to Morgan where the 
leader was still trying to convince him of his story.  "Did that 
crackpot really try to kill you?"
	"I'll tell you about it later." 
	"You know, he thinks you're a gargoyle."
	"Oh, really?"



EPILOGUE
	Stingray half listened as they read the charges against him.  
The charges didn't matter, anyway.  Even with Mantis having 
agreed to testify against him in return for a lighter sentence, his 
lawyer was sure he could get off easily.  His ramblings about 
gargoyles as he'd rushed out of the building proved that he hadn't 
been sane.
	The sound of the door of the courtroom closing behind him 
caught his attention and he turned to see who had come in.  Elisa 
Maza slipped down the aisle to the front row, bent over to have a 
word with Detective Canmore in his wheelchair, and then took her 
seat.  There they sat, the whole row of them:  Dominique Destine, 
face seething in fury; Pendragon with his cold hard exterior; 
Xanatos and Fox, wearing looks of mild interest; Macduff, leaning 
back in his seat, though his eyes were narrowed; and Elisa Maza--
who actually *was* one of those creatures he'd seen.  All of them 
there, watching him, waiting for him to make his move.  Xanatos' 
words echoed through his brain:  "The problem with 'bothering' 
people with money is that we have the resources to hunt you 
down." and those of that creature, "If you should *ever* for some 
reason escape justice, we will hunt you down and we will *kill* 
you."
	The only place he'd be safe from them would be in a prison.  
There'd be too many guards there for them to do anything, and he 
was sure they couldn't possibly reach him there.
	"How do you plead?" he was asked.  He felt their eyes 
boring into his back.
	His lawyer started to answer, but Stingray cut him off.  
"Guilty!  I plead guilty!"

	In the flurry of activity which had erupted at his declaration, 
Elisa exchanged glances with her other unlikely allies.  It was really 
over.  Things had turned out rather well, actually.  Matt was going to 
be fine, the hostages weren't talking about their rescuers, and, most 
importantly, there was one less dirtbag on the streets causing 
trouble.  Not a mean feat for a society event, to actually result in the 
apprehension of a dangerous criminal.  Finally things could get back 
to normal--as normal as they ever were.
	Over the noise of the courtroom, the judge cracked her 
gavel, ordering a recess to consider the new events.  
	"Congratulations, Detective." Xanatos took her hand.  "You 
did it."
	Elisa shook her head.  She still didn't quite trust him, or 
Fox, and definitely not Demona, but there were times, like this, 
when she had to admit they made a great team--when they all 
worked together.  "No.  *We* did it.  Thanks for the help."
	Jason waited for the aisle to clear so he could wheel his way 
out.  "If it had turned out that he was declared innocent, I was all set 
to drag out the old uniform and hunt him down."
	Macbeth nodded at the descendant of his old enemy.  "I 
understand how you feel, lad.  But now you won't have to."
	"I wonder if that would that have been strictly legal," Fox 
commented, a small smile on her face.  
	"That depends on how you look at it." Arthur said seriously, 
and explained,  "This terrorist had committed crimes against the 
nation, true, but he also committed crimes against myself, a king, 
and the gargoyles, and we have a certain right to redress those 
crimes.  As long as he faced the charges in court, I was willing to let 
my own claim slide, but had he not been punished sufficiently for 
them, I would have been entitled to take my own form of justice..."  
He, Xanatos, Fox, and Macbeth went out with Jason, discussing the 
issue.  Elisa started to follow, when "Dominique Destine" caught 
her arm and gave her a cold hard stare.
	"You helped me leave before I changed, *human*, and I 
spared your life for it.  Now, we're even.  But you *will* die--you 
and all your race."  She stepped past Elisa and headed out of the 
courtroom.
	*Yes,* Elisa thought.  *Things are definitely back to 
normal.*



THE END


Anne Jensen
ajensen@west.net
http://www.west.net/~ajensen/