Weekend Off
by Amanda Ohlin

Fox Xanatos strode slowly into the room and tapped at a well-known series of buttons near a monitor, smiling as a familiar image appeared. She was clad in her workout leotard with her hair tied back, having just finished her morning routine. The mischievous grin on her face showed that the routine had been more satisfying than usual. As she stood there, tired, sweaty, and disheveled, David Xanatos marveled at how beautiful she could be no matter what.

Her smile softened to a Cheshire grin, and she seemed to read his thoughts as he opened his mouth to speak. "Flattery will get you everything, you know that."

"I see you enjoyed yourself more than usual." When Fox had enjoyed herself, she tended to show it the night after.

At that, she burst out laughing, causing David to wonder if Titania had inadvertently passed mind-reading over to her daughter. If so, he was in trouble already. "You could say that. I managed to talk Sarah into it for once." Fox reached behind her head and yanked out the hairband, shaking her thick mane of red hair free. "You know, when she's in a foul mood, she's almost a match for me."

Xanatos nodded. "The entire building must know about that little mishap by now. I wish I could have seen Owen's face when Miss Reynolds asked him if he was related to Vogel."

"That reminds me - it's what I wanted to talk to you about." Fox brushed an errant strand of hair away. "I won't be able to come up to Philadelphia tonight; to keep Sarah from being thrown out again, I arranged a dinner and outing for the two of them. As long as Sarah gets along with her roommate, she pays attention to her work. Considering that she's saved our systems from repeated hacking attempts, I'd like to keep her happy."

"You spoil that girl too much," the multibillionaire remarked, but he gave his wife a crooked smile.

Fox turned up the resolution on the videophone to get a better picture, and returned the expression. "Of course I do. Besides, her roommate just happens to work for my father's company, you know."

"Ahh." He raised an eyebrow. "A secretary, I heard. Very high up in the top secret echelons of Cyberbiotics."

She smirked. "David, sarcasm only becomes you when it's not used on your wife." Running a hand through her damp and sweaty hair, she squinted out at the mid-morning sun. "Besides, if nothing comes up, I'll get some shopping out of it."

"You're joking."

Fox burst out laughing. "Wouldn't you like to know," she teased him, absently scratching at the strap on her leotard. "Owen will keep watch on Alexander for the night anyhow. There's very little risk involved, for once."

A sigh of amusement and resignation. "I suppose I should tell you to stay out of trouble, but I know you too well."

"That's why you married me, isn't it?" Visions of hot showers after a hard workout danced in her head. "Whatever the outcome, I'll see you Sunday night. There probably won't be much to report."

It was his turn to chuckle. "My dear, you know you'll be proven wrong. See you then."

"Get up, Callie."

Callista could hear her roommate clearly through the cave of sheets and blankets, and burrowed deeper in the hopes that she would stop hearing her. "I'm tired. Let me sleep."

Sarah snorted. "It's 11:30. You've had plenty of time to sleep. If you don't get out of that bed, I'll drag you out, so help me God!"

"I'll pay you to go away." Callista poked her head out of the sheets; Sarah rarely made idle threats.

Her roommate gave her a stern look, then sighed and sat down on the foot of the bed. "Look, being mad at that idiot is one thing. God knows he deserves to get clobbered for leaving you there. But Handsaw is not worth your damned death's door act!"

"It's not Handsaw that's bothering me." She sat up and stretched. "When it comes to relationships, Sarah, I am utterly hopeless. I cannot find a halfway decent bloke who's willing to spend five minutes with me." For effect, she flopped back on her pillow with a melodramatic sigh. "I have no life. I shall probably be the only single girl staying home tonight."

Sarah started clapping. "Lovely performance. Now will you sit up and listen? You are not staying home tonight, if Fox and I have anything to say about it."

"Why," Callista remarked to the ceiling, "do I have a bad feeling about this?"

"Because being invited for dinner and shopping tonight courtesy of my boss is a fate worse than death," Sarah answered sarcastically. At that, Callista sat up again and stared at her. "Well, come on, Callie! Your depression is contagious - it always pisses me off! And when that happens, I usually annoy the hell out of Fox!"

"So...this is her twisted way of preventing that?"

"Bingo." Sarah threw a shirt at her. "Now get up and get dressed. The coffeepot hates me again, and you're the only one who can coax it to work." Callista threw the shirt at her retreating form and smiled. Leave it to Sarah to mention coffee.

Owen Burnett sat stiffly in the backseat of the limo, looking up at the window of the apartment that Sarah was renting. Suddenly, he caught a flare of light - not one that the naked eye could see, but a brief flare of arcane energy. It had just peeked out of the careful shields set up to block it, then retreated again.

He settled back into the plush of the seat, thinking. Upon picking up Sarah's roommate the previous night, he had caught a whiff, a mere sensation of power from her. Someone or other had taken great pains to conceal it through shielding, and only his "alter ego" had allowed him to pick it up. Seeing it again, he was positive. Callista, for some reason or other, had a decent amount of magical energy. It wasn't enough to register Lord Oberon's attention - god forbid - but it was enough for someone to have bothered to conceal it.

The phenomenon had occurred in some other humans he'd known, and most often manifested itself in the talent of Sight, the ability to "see beyond" the physical. He suspected that was how it would manifest in her, had she been unshielded.

But what puzzled him was who, exactly, had shielded her. He doubted that she had; she hadn't an inkling of her power. Possibly a parent, from whom she'd inherited her ability. Strange, though; he hadn't run into many cases in a long while.

He pursed his lips together thoughtfully. Perhaps there was a way he could find some records of her family tree. The fact that she was born overseas would prove to add to the difficulty, but he could handle a challenge. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could wheedle another student out of Oberon, and thus more chance to use his long-dormant powers.

Besides, it wouldn't be long now; the shields were weakening. And there was a harvest moon tonight, which meant that anything could happen. On nights of the harvest moon, the magical currents often went awry, usually forcing Oberon to declare holiday for all his Children. That way, if they ran amuck, he still kept the illusion of control.

Owen Burnett smiled as his alter ego did a mental cartwheel. Perhaps a holiday was in order....

Elisa walked slowly up the steps of the tower, tired. She hadn't slept well, and it showed. Coffee helped, but only slightly, and it wouldn't erase the lingering dream-images that plagued her. First the flu, and now sporadic nightmares, were wearing her down. Geez, she thought wryly as she climbed the spiral stairs in quiet silence. I wonder how Goliath can stand me, I've been so out of it lately. Her smile faded as her mind returned to the dreams. What bothered her about them was that they didn't make any sense - that is, they weren't conventional nightmares, but montages of images that chilled her nonetheless. Quarrymen running in droves somewhere. Puck going wild. The Grimorum Arcanorum. Sarah screaming. A strange gargoyle.

And above it all, an eerie harvest moon, seeming to glow orange. She shuddered. Even her latest prank war with Matt didn't help her unease. Speaking of which, she mused, Captain Chavez was definitely going to have a few words about the 15 pizzas delivered to Elisa's desk the night before. Matt was in for it, either way.

She pushed the trapdoor open and climbed out into the cool, clear air. As she took a deep, shuddering breath to clear her mind as well, she was aware of eyes on her. Turning, she smiled to see Sarah seated next to Lexington's frozen form on one of the cornices, grinning at her. "Don't look at me like that. You got me into the habit."

"It's a hard one to break," Elisa responded, then noticed that Sarah had abandoned her usual jeans and sweatshirt for slacks and a nice blouse. "What's with the getup? Don't tell me Fox started leaning on you about dress codes."

Sarah looked down at herself and laughed. "No, I'm just a tech assistant. I can hide in the shadows and no one will ever have to see me." At Elisa's confused expression, she explained. "Anyway, she's spoiling me again. Callie had an extremely nasty fall-out last night, and to keep her from throwing me out, Fox is taking the two of us out to eat."

Knowing the former Pack leader, Elisa was silent. Even Sarah could read the Sure-And-I-Bet-You've-Got-A-Bridge-To-Sell-Me look, and laughed. "Hell, I bet she's got an ulterior motive. This is Fox we're talking about." She unconsciously rubbed Lex's left talon. "But she needs me around and intact, and Callie's so utterly out of it that she won't be much use to anyone."

Another thought occurred to Elisa; after the pillow fight incident, Lex had become increasingly protective of Sarah. "Have you told him about this yet?" she asked, jerking a thumb at Lex's stone form.

"Going to in a sec," Sarah answered as the sun set and stone cracked.

Owen stood in front of the crib and smiled.

It had taken quite a bit of artistry to pull this one off. First he'd had to get Fox going somehow to give him some private time with Alex, after which he'd done "review" - getting the kid to patch him through to Avalon. If Fox had found out, there was no telling what she'd do; he wasn't sure that she couldn't let fly a blast like the one she'd given Oberon not that long ago.

But it had paid off. Oberon, with a bit of encouragement from Titania, had reluctantly given him freedom for the night of the harvest moon, since all of the other Children had been granted the same honor. The only conditions were that he protect Alexander, and that he at least attempt to be on his best behavior.

Attempt.

As his small smile broke into a grin, the stiff form of Owen Burnett seemed to shudder and snap back into the small, lithe form of the fey Puck. "So, Master Alex," he said, floating over and lifting the child from his crib, "where would you like to go tonight?"

Alex just giggled.

"You're doing what??" Lex gaped.

"Can you fit me in?" Angela added, half-jokingly. Goliath sent her a stern look, and she sighed. "Oh, Father. You have to learn to take a joke." Sarah sighed, but not as cheerfully. "Lex, it's just a bleedin' night out. If Fox is actually up to anything, there isn't much to be up to." She patted his cheek, and he relaxed slightly.

"I find it strange that she would make such an offer," Goliath remarked.

Brooklyn and Broadway cracked up. "You kidding?" Brooklyn teased. "She'll do anything in her power to keep Sarah from being kicked out after - uh--" He stopped as Lex shot him a LOOK. "Anyway, I don't think it's anything big."

"Maybe we could just patrol nearby," Angela offered, and Lex's eyes lit up (figuratively, that is).

"Why not?" he said, before Goliath or Sarah could protest. "We'll stay out of trouble, really." Sarah rolled her eyes. "Lex, hon, I will be fine. Besides, I haven't quite told Callie about this yet." "Hey, I'll stay out of your hair," he pleaded as she crossed her arms and frowned at him. "You won't even know I'm there. Honest." Goliath frowned as Sarah looked at him helplessly and Lex looked at him imploringly. Elisa sighed and patted his arm. "Somehow I think he'll do it whether you agree or not."

"Very well." Goliath knew when he was outnumbered. "Lex, you may patrol the route that they take. However, you must stay out of sight, and," he added as Lex burst into a toothy smile, "Brooklyn will go with you." Lex's smile fell, and Sarah stifled a laugh.

With a grin, Brooklyn patted his rookery brother on the shoulder. "I promise not to whine this time."

"Glad to hear it," Lex muttered unconvincingly.

"Just be careful, lads," Hudson cautioned as the gargoyles grouped and spread their wings. "It's a harvest moon tonight, and ye need to watch out fer the strange."

Angela laughed as Goliath took off, carrying Elisa. "Strange? Here? If that superstition is true, every night should be a harvest moon."

As the sun sank beneath the horizon, the faint glow of the harvest moon settled on the face of a statue in the clock tower. Almost immediately, hairline cracks formed all over its surface, a spiderweb crossing the smooth gray stone.

What happened next was spatially impossible.

Shards of stone fell away as a form twice the size of the statue burst from its confines with a roar. The difference in size made it look as though the wings and limbs had suddenly sprung like weeds from the statue. The young gargoyle stumbled and fell to his knees, swallowing gulps of the cool night air. He knelt there for a moment, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, trying to get his senses in order and functioning.

After a moment, he opened his eyes, automatically running a hand through his mane of thick black hair. He blinked and did a double take, pulling his hand free to stare at the talons that hadn't been there before. His skin had deepened to a golden brown. Slowly pulling himself to his feet, he looked down at himself - looked DOWN. It was disorienting to have grown a foot in one night, especially when you woke up with taloned hands and feet, knee spikes, a tail and wings.

Suddenly reminded of them, he flexed his wings out to either side, staring across the length of each with amazement. He pulled them back, then forward, and caped them as easily as he could fold his arms. His newly strong arms. As he relaxed he could feel a strength that he hadn't known in years, a vitality that had been lost to his memory. Stretching out his arms and wings, he felt - no, he knew - that he was healthy again. Not caring who heard him, he let out a whoop of triumph.

Grabbing his pack and the book, Drew launched himself into the night.

At that very moment, Callista was waiting on the corner near the apartment building, waiting. She knew they weren't supposed to be here for another twenty minutes, but for some reason she had been compelled to enjoy the night air. It was a lovely, clear evening, and the pale orange moon was a nice touch in the dark sky.

As she stared up at it, a strange shudder of heat seemed to pass through her, and she blinked, confused. A whoop of triumph cut into her hearing, and it took her a moment to realize that she was hearing it in her mind.

She shuddered again, this time of her own volition. Damn, I'm turning into a copy of Mum. "Sarah, you better not be late," she murmured.

As he climbed up the steps to the station, Matt nursed an awful headache. He hadn't slept well, and for some reason, was dreading tonight's shift. Perhaps that had to do with the fact that it was a Saturday; the real crazies came out on Saturday nights. It also could have something to do with the payback he got in the form of telephone ads every half hour that day while he tried to sleep. And, of course, it might be partly due to this nagging feeling that something was about to go haywire.

Whatever the reason, he was not anticipating his Saturday night. A whoop from above startled him, and he thought he saw a shadow launch itself from the ruined hulk of the clock tower and glide awkwardly into the darkness. Were it any other time, Matt would have dismissed it as his imagination. But as he looked back up at the clock tower, the feeling of unease became twice as strong.

On an impulse, Matt bolted up the stairs, and dashed through the station like the devil was after him. Ignoring the stares of his coworkers (and sparing the stack of empty pizza boxes and the bill atop them an annoyed glance), he turned left and ran up the stairs to the tower, fumbling around and through the remnants of yellow and black tape that barred his path.

He stumbled out into the open air, brushing away a fresh cobweb. As he cast about for a clue - any sort of clue - his eye fell on a clear patch of floor amidst the rubble. Matt's eyes widened as he saw the smudged circle of chalk, adorned with shards of thin stone and a few selective claw marks.

"You are a sadist," Sarah growled as the two young women trudged out of Macy's, loaded with bags and boxes. "I'll have to wear some of this stuff now!"

Callista laughed at that, causing Sarah to relax slightly. "Oh, please. You were having a ball nitpicking at every damned thing I picked out."

"It's not my fault you have no taste," was the joking response, and Callista stuck her tongue out at Sarah from behind the bag. "That's mature, Callie!" But she was laughing with her friend.

Fox walked behind them, slower and less heavily loaded. She'd managed to pick out a bracelet, a new leotard, and splurged for a little black dress, just for the look on David's face when she stepped off the plane in Philadelphia. One of the joys of being married to him was the satisfaction she got from surprising him; David Xanatos was not easy to surprise.

She watched the two girls walking ahead of her, talking and laughing, and smiled as she watched. To be young again, and carefree; to have a second chance to do her childhood over. There was so much she wanted to relive, to see again with knowing eyes. Her parents; did Titania truly love her father? Or was it a ruse to spite Oberon? She had wondered ever since the truth came out, and since then had been reliving all the scenes of her parents in her memory, reanalyzing every word. Everything Anastasia had said took on a wholly different meaning, and she shuddered. Now her mother was gone, and her father on merely congenial terms with his daughter. Talk about a dysfunctional family. Ugh.

Sarah started laughing fit to die, and Fox turned her attention back to the girl. Despite the coffee and computer addiction, she was so much like her brother; tough as nails, and ready to go out on a limb to help out a friend. Yet smart enough to back off when something didn't feel right. She wondered how Dingo was doing, and how he and Sarah had explained things to his parents. How much did they know? Was Sarah homesick? If she was, she was too busy cracking codes, goofing off with Brooklyn and Lex, and dealing with her friends to show it. Fox, however, did not want to risk that chance. Sarah's parents still spoke to her. Perhaps, come Christmas, she could get Sarah flown down to Sydney to spend the holidays with her family. A shadow atop a building across the street caught her attention - a pair of shadows, in fact. She smiled up at them. "I'll take care of her," she said quietly. "I promise."

"Callie!! Sarah!! Wait, stop, please!"

The girls stopped in their tracks as the voice cut through the usual roar of traffic and tourists. As Fox caught up with them, Sarah and Callista turned towards the shouter, a rather broad young man with a crop of rust- colored hair and a panicked expression. Seeing the apprehension on Callista's face, and the look of disgust on Sarah's, Fox knew that trouble was coming.

"What do you want, Handsaw?" Sarah confirmed her suspicions, her voice acid and bitter.

Handsaw ignored her anger. "Oh, geez, oh god, I'm sorry, but the cops were no help and I don't know what to do - have you guys seen Drew?"

"Drew? No, why?" Callie grabbed Sarah's arm, looking worried. "Handsaw, what's happened?"

"He's gone," the young man gasped. "I don't know where, I don't know why, he vanished after I got home last night. I called the cops, they told me to wait 24 hours, but he's sick and this is New York, damn it!"

The anger disappeared from Sarah's face. "He took off last night? Holy--" She trailed off. "He said he had plans for Friday night, but I didn't suspect that!"

"God, I shoulda put him in a home before," Handsaw gasped. "This wouldn't have happened."

Callista glared at him suddenly. "Did you ever think that your pushing him into a home was why he took off? Herbert Harrison, you treat your cousin like a child, and he's older and wiser than the likes of you!"

The other two were silent at this outburst, and Fox cleared her throat. "Excuse me, but could someone explain this so I can help?"

Handsaw stared at her with a strange look, and Sarah blinked. "Oh, um, Handsaw, this is my boss, Fox Xanatos."

He allowed a curt handshake, suspicion crossing his face like a wall. "I know who you are." Sighing, he turned to Callista. "Look, Cal, I know you're mad--"

"You better believe I am."

"--but I don't know who else to talk to. The cops haven't helped, and he's family." He looked pleadingly at them, and Fox sighed.

"I think we should try our own search," she decided, "but first I think we should head back to the Eyrie." Handsaw did not look happy, and she added, "Do you have a better idea? We're loaded down with packages, tired and hungry, and need to regroup. And I need to hear the whole story," she pointed out, giving the three of them a stern glare. "So we might as well get ourselves in order first."

Handsaw frowned. "I think I ought to check with the police again. It's been long enough for them to do some damned thing." He paused and looked at Callie. "Uh, be careful, okay? I got my car holed up in a parking garage, and I better go get it." She nodded, bemused, as he turned and headed around the corner.

"That," said Sarah, "was strange. And why the hell would Drew run off like that? He's too smart."

With a shudder, Callista shook herself out of her trance. "Brrr," she muttered, shaking her head. "I just can't imagine someone alone out here, especially someone in his condition." She frowned. "But why can't he get help from the police?"

"Probably already got in trouble with them," Sarah snapped.

Fox shook her head. "We're going back to the Eyrie right now." Every nerve in her body was screaming that something was going on.

Suddenly, there was a shout, and a veritable stampede of people swarmed onto the sidewalk, dashing out of the department store in a panic. Inside, a cacophony of shouting, crashing, and shooting could be heard. "Get down!" Fox shoved Sarah to the sidewalk, pulling Callista down too as the panicked people swarmed by like sheep, not paying attention to where they were going. The masses were so great and their anxiety so destructive that she barely managed to shove her way back to the car, dragging the girls with her.

As they dived into the safety of the back seat, she let out a deep breath, then sucked it in again. Sarah stared at her in horror. "Where's Callie?"

The crowds were thinning and calming, so Fox opened the door again and they scrambled back out just as the stampede lessened and the police stormed in. Sarah cast about anxiously for her friend in the sea of faces, calling out her name. "Callista! Callista! CALLIE!!"

There was no answer, and no sign of Callista anywhere. Something is definitely going on, Fox thought as she pulled the girl back into the car.

"What the hell?" Lex shouted as the swarm of figures flooded out of Macy's. "Sarah!"

Brooklyn jerked up from his half-asleep trance, yanking his rookery brother back before he could launch himself off. "Wait a minute! We can't just go charging in there. They'll pin it on us!"

With eyes glowing white-hot, Lex glared at him. "What are we supposed to do? Let them get flattened?"

"Trust me, they'll be okay." Brooklyn gestured to where Fox was kicking and shoving her way through the rioting mass like a human juggernaut. "Why don't we just drift around back and see if we can't catch the freak who's behind this?"

"Gladly," Lex snarled as they launched themselves off the roof, gliding and spiraling down towards the alley below. As they came into visual range, they were largely ignored by the panicked crowd. They easily landed in the alleyway unnoticed, just as a shadowy figure staggered out a service exit, clutching a heavy pack.

"Robbery and terrorism," Brooklyn muttered as he spotted them and took off at a dead run. "I'm going to enjoy this."

The two gargoyles bounded after the culprit, who ran as if the devil himself were after him. Fast as he was, they were faster. As he came to a wire fence, he threw the pack over his shoulder and scrambled up it, only to have his shirt snagged by a pair of talons and lifted off the wire he was clutching to. He was not happy to be held in the air by a crimson gargoyle, and even less happy when Brooklyn grinned at him.

Before Brooklyn could get any more kicks out of their escapade, Lex stepped in, eyes glowing. "All right, want to tell us just what you were doing?"

Instead of the expected blubbering, the man glared at him. "Getting the hell out of there. It's dangerous."

"For someone with a piece?" Brooklyn shook him roughly, making him dangle like a marionette, and a small handgun fell out of his pocket. "Well, look what we have here."

"It's empty, you asshole." The man looked angry enough to spit, but it was a controlled, calculated anger. "I keep an unloaded weapon with me in case a mugger comes after me."

Brooklyn snorted. "Maybe it's empty because you used all the ammo ripping off the store."

As Brooklyn continued, Lex sidled over to the pack and unzipped it. His face fell as he saw the contents. "Hey, Brook, you might want to see this."

"How much did he steal?" Brooklyn said, his eyes on his captive.

A cold feeling settled in Lex's stomach. "Nothing." He held up`the bag. "It's stuffed with newspapers."

The man started laughing. "Idiots! You can't prove a damned thing. Who would believe the word of a filthy beast over a man, huh? Especially," he added, looking past Brooklyn, "when the cops find the gargoyle strangling the man."

Lex and Brooklyn spun, and their captive seized the opportunity, driving the heel of his boot into Brooklyn's leg. It was a heavy work boot, and there was enough force behind the blow to loosen the red gargoyle's grip. Slipping from his grasp, the man scrambled over the wire fence and bolted into the darkness. Brooklyn started to go after him, but Lex caught his arm.

"No! Leave him alone. Don't you get it?" he added as Brooklyn stared at him. "It was a setup!"

Brooklyn's eyes glowed. "Which means--"

"Uh-oh," they muttered in unison as Sarah started shrieking for Callista.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Angela whispered as she gazed out across the water, admiring the orange reflection of the harvest moon spreading and shimmering across the rippling waves. Despite having grown adjusted to life with the Manhattan Clan, she still could not resist an occasional view of the water, any water that fed into the ocean towards her former home.

Broadway swallowed, drinking her in. "Yeah, it is," he answered, not talking about the water at all. He couldn't believe how lucky he was; before Angela walked into their lives, he'd been the joke of the group. He wasn't a leader like Goliath, as wise as Hudson, smart as Lex, or fast as Brooklyn; he was just the one who ate too much and got in the way.

But Angela had changed all that. Before, he couldn't fathom any girl, gargoyle or human, agreeing to spend time with him - much less falling for him. When she was with him, he felt like he actually mattered to someone. It was hard to feel left out when you were with someone you cared about, and who cared about you just as deeply.

And she was everything he'd ever dreamed of; besides being beautiful, she was sweet and gentle while being brave. Never once had he heard her tease him about his eating or his size. Nevertheless, he'd lost ten pounds in the past few months to impress her, and while it didn't greatly show, she had noticed. She had noticed the smallest change that he'd tried so hard to achieve.

She turned towards him and smiled, the smile shining more brightly than any star in the clear sky. Broadway felt something inside him melt, and found himself leaning towards her--

And suddenly a shadow glided between buildings, and he jerked back in surprise. "What was that?"

Confused, Angela spun about, trying to see what had caught his attention. "I don't see anything."

"No, I know I saw--" He pointed at the shape of a golden-brown gargoyle awkwardly gliding over Central Park. "There! See that?"

She was taken aback. "That's no one we know." The newcomer was the same size as Brooklyn, but that was where the resemblance ended, as far as Broadway could see.

"Are you sure?" A thought came into his head, and he bit his lip, thinking of something Goliath had told him. "Could it be someone from Avalon?"

Angela shook her head vehemently. "No, I know it's not. I don't know of any Avalon gargoyles with that sort of coloring, and I know the whole clan."

A thought occurred to Broadway. "A clone?" Angela shrugged, and he sighed; the moment was long gone. "Come on. Let's go find out."

As Drew glided over Central Park, he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, and winced. When he'd passed over a carful of drunken, gun-crazy yahoos, he'd been grazed by a bullet in the shoulder. The wound was nowhere near critical, but it was such that he would have to tend to it before sunrise. He was glad that he'd bothered to throw some first-aid supplies in his pack along with the book and other necessities; the only thing he needed was a safe place to hide and nurse his shoulder. Central Park wasn't ideal, but it would do.

Drew frowned, somewhat disappointed. He'd started to actually get the hang of gliding (no pun intended) before he'd been stupid enough to fly so low over that riot scene. It was strange how easy it had come to him; perhaps it had something to do with the book.

He'd been gliding aimlessly for the past few hours, not quite sure what to do, but just glad to be alive. Eventually, he knew, he would have to come back to earth and take stock of his situation. So far, he hadn't encountered any PIT groupings of any sort, nor any gargoyles, the only two means of safe haven he could think of.

But what would he tell any gargoyles he ran into? The truth? Drew had never met a gargoyle before; he wasn't sure how open-minded any of them were. And he couldn't blame them for not trusting humans, the way the Quarrymen had been treating them. Either way, he was going to have to get in touch with reality pretty soon.

Spotting an empty, shaded spot behind a stand of boulders, he glided downward, unsure how to land, but trusting in his innate sense of balance. That sense only helped partially as he landed, stumbled, and fell to his knees in the shadows with a grunt. He grinned, trying not to laugh at himself, glad that no one had seen his awkward landing attempt. There was still a lot he had to learn.

As he opened his pack, pulling out the kit and the water bottle, he started to clean the wound carefully. It was only a flesh wound, but it still looked nasty. Maybe all that time spent around hospitals was paying off. With a sigh, he finished swabbing and cleaning, and pulled out a length of gauze bandage from the kit. Got to be more careful.

A sound startled him, and he looked up to see two gargoyles, a male and a female, descending into a nearby clearing. Drew was surprised at how swiftly and silently they had caught up with him; he hadn't seen any others when he was looking for a safe landing. As he crouched in the shadows, watching the other two land, it suddenly struck him that these were the first gargoyles he'd seen up close. The male was rather heavyset, colored a light greenish-blue. He would have seemed almost comical, but somehow Drew had the feeling that he didn't want to mess with him.

The female, by contrast, was slimmer and taller, and extremely attractive, with bluish-violet skin and thick dark hair. Something about her face reminded him of Callista, and Drew swallowed in spite of himself. They weren't wearing much; plainly sewn pieces that covered what had to be covered. Considering that it was a warm evening, that made sense. Dress codes didn't include gargoyles, anyway. He grinned as he looked down at the torn cut-offs that had once been his old jeans, realizing that he didn't look much better.

Confused, the female looked around. "Are you sure he landed here?"

"I'm sure," was the response. "I know I saw him, Angela."

She patted his arm gently and smiled. "I did too. But I don't see anyone now."

Drew shifted his weight, accidentally snapping a few twigs. As the other two turned towards his concealing space, he muttered a few choice words before quickly wrapping up his arm and grabbing his bag just in case. "Who's there?" the male shouted, and Drew backed away, uncertain. Can I trust them? I don't know.....maybe I was a little too hasty...

As the male started towards him, his mate - the way they acted, it was patently obvious - took his arm. "Easy, Broadway," she murmured before stepping forward herself. "Hello? Are you still there?" Drew flicked a branch in response, and she smiled.

"We're not going to hurt you," the male added. "We just want to help - I guess."

The female gave him a look that caused Drew to stifle a laugh. It was like Callie and Handsaw on their good days. She turned back towards him. "We didn't mean to scare you. It's just that - well, we almost never see a new gargoyle in the city."

Silence was getting him nowhere. "Why? Are you alone, too?" His voice was hoarse, probably due to his dry throat.

The other two exchanged glances. "No, we have a clan in Manhattan," the male said. He paused. "Don't you have a clan?"

Drew swallowed and cleared his throat. "No," he admitted honestly.

The female extended a hand. "I'm Angela, and this is Broadway." She extended a hand.

Drew sighed and paused for a moment. He figured he could trust them, but there were certain things he wasn't ready to let slip. It was a start, and a sudden idea occurred to him as he took her hand and slowly moved into the light. "Call me Twilight."

"Let GO of me!" Callista shouted as Handsaw dragged her down the alley, his grip on her arm tight as anything. Her shouts were drowned out by the rioting around them as he pulled her down the dark tunnel of asphalt and brick. "Are you crazy?"

His grip grew tighter, and he ran faster. "I'm trying to save you!" he snapped. "Cal, you don't know what kind of a psychopath that woman Fox is!"

"Neither do you! Let me go!" She wrenched her arm free and tried to make a break for it, but he grabbed her by the shoulders, locking her arms. "Stop it!!"

Handsaw was panting as he continued to drag her down the alley. "Quit fighting me! I know some people who can help!"

"Help?? You're the one who needs the help, you daft bastard! What is wrong with you?!?" she shrieked, enraged, as a black van pulled up at the far end of the alley. "I can't just leave Sarah there!"

"She chose her fate!" he yelled. "She decided to work for those traitors! But if you come with us, you won't have to suffer the judgment day."

Callista was about to reply when the door of the van slid open and a group of people filed out, three men and two women. All had matching looks of menace, and matching symbols on their shirts. The same hammer symbol she'd seen the previous night, in dark red, the color of blood. She gasped as the world seemed to shift and stumbled, falling into a brief trance.

In her mind's eye, she could see these same people smashing stone statues, attacking creatures that were supposed to be stone figures on buildings with unreasoning hatred. And before it all, the hammer symbol - crushing and destroying. The harvest moon above seemed to flare as she snapped out of it, the realization of her situation a cold shock to her system.

She'd heard of the Quarrymen in great and irritated detail from Sarah, and if they were half the deluded, hate-driven bastards her roommate made them out to be, she was in deep shit. But something - some small instinct inside her - told her that she wasn't going down without a fight.

With a shout, she shoved at Handsaw, the force surprising him enough for his viselike grip to loosen. Callista drove an elbow into his stomach, breaking free again as he doubled over. As the others went for her with grim purpose, she lashed out further, kicking one and punching another before one grabbed her by the waist. She clawed him in the face, and he let go, only to watch as her head made contact with a baseball bat.

As she crumpled to the ground, she was dimly aware of voices above her. "What the hell is wrong with you, you bitch??" Handsaw shouted. "Hey, man, chill. We got her, didn't we? The big C wanted the other one, anyway, so you should be glad a bump on the head is all she's got." A snort. "This is the reason you missed last night's? Geez, she's fierce."

"That's why I love her, Max. Shut up."

Consciousness threatened to slip away, and she scrabbled frantically to hold on, even though it took all her concentration as she lay there. A crackle on the radio sounded, followed by some swearing. "Bring her with us, folks. We're moving in early, and there isn't time to put her someplace safe."

"Already? Aw, hell." Strong hands grabbed her and lifted her up. "We're really going to kick some monster ass tonight, aren't we?"

"Of course." Another voice, cold and oily, cut in. Callista could feel its evil. "The traitors to the human race are finally going to pay."

She was tossed unceremoniously onto the van floor, and as her captors filed in, her last view before blackness was the orange moon above. Help me, she called silently. Someone help me please...

The door slammed shut, sending the van and Callista into darkness. As it did so, the shields her mother had tried to protect her with so long ago began to wane.

Alexander was laughing, enjoying the ride of lights and colors as his mentor cheerfully guided them along the paths of fireworks that a few unruly college students were shooting off from their rooftop. In a few moments, the police would show up and end the light show, but it was fun while it lasted. Alex was enjoying himself immensely, and Puck had to admit that the simple pleasures just could not be overlooked.

Suddenly, he felt a shockwave of energy, so intense that he nearly dropped the cloak of invisibility. Reeling back, he pulled his control in as the cry for help echoed in the air.

The fireworks died out abruptly - the police had finally ended the party. Disoriented, and clutching Alexander a bit tighter than usual, Puck drifted skyward, heading farther and farther upward until New York stretched out below them like a living road map.

Alex giggled again, and Puck smirked at him. The child had sensed it too, but didn't seem to be bothered. "You know, there are people who would kill for your blood pressure."

"Garg'les!" the boy responded, beating his fists at the air. "Garg'les, garg'les, garg'les..."

Ignoring Alex's tirade, Puck murmured a couplet under his breath, stretching his senses out in Search across the city, with streaks of blue light that few could see. The light spidered through alleyways and streets, zipping in mad comets as they traversed every nook and cranny of the vast metropolis below.

A crimson flare caught his attention, a few blocks from Macy's. But as he turned towards it, a golden flash ensued, not far from Central Park. "Now what could that be, I wonder?" The red flash, he knew, was a certain young woman with an untapped talent, but the gold flash...seemed so familiar, so enticing...

"'Awwie! 'Awah!" Alex suddenly shouted, becoming unhappy. "Bad, bad, bad, garg'les 'urt, bad, bad, bad!!"

Callie. Sarah. Puck looked down at the child, unsure whether to be worried or be proud. "You're a piece of work, you know that?" Alex merely sucked his fingers and looked at him solemnly.

"Damn!" Lex pounded angrily on the radio transmitter. "It's not working! They must be out of range!"

Brooklyn blinked. "Out of range? Where did Goliath decide to patrol, the Canadian border? I thought you said the range was all over the city."

"Then there's interference! I don't know!" The small gargoyle glared fiercely at the apparatus as he fooled with dials and knobs, checking the headset several times. "I don't know why this isn't working! It may be just their transmitters, but if it's the whole system--"

Hudson sighed. "Why don't ye try Broadway and Angela, lad? They took transmitters when they left, too."

Lex bent back to the controls, and Hudson turned over to where Sarah was sitting, hands clenched into fists and glaring at the floor. Instead of the panic that had gripped her earlier, she was fairly blazing with rage. Hudson sighed; at least it was preferable to panic. An angry mind could think better than a panicked one.

He sat down beside her. "Lass, are ye all right?"

"I've been better," she snarled. "If I could get my hands on that bloke, I swear to God I'll--"

"Huh?" Brooklyn asked, confused, and Sarah looked up.

She snorted. "Handsaw! It was Handsaw, that ass! He set it up! There's no other possibility!"

"Sounds more like a Quarryman job to me," Brooklyn responded, and Sarah nodded. "Whoa. You mean your friend was going out with--"

"I wouldn't put it past him," Sarah answered as Fox cleared her throat, looking up from a pile of building schematics and police reports. "What?"

The former Pack leader frowned. "I may have to agree with you. It looks as though most of our security is intact, except for those on the upper floors."

Brooklyn blinked. "So?"

"So," Fox said acidly, "according to these reports, two helicopters have been stolen in the past week: one from Cyberbiotics, one from an army base in Maryland. Both were stealth helicopters designed for reconnaissance and aerial attack." She traced a finger over the papers before her. "My father's company took a few government contracts, and Vogel was quite helpful when I informed him that his secretary had been kidnapped during that damned riot."

Sarah was surprised. "Really? Callie bitches about her boss so much, I thought the feeling was mutual."

"He said something about the only one who was always on time," Fox said, shrugging. "Either way, I expect no less than a full-scale attack." Even Lex turned to stare at her. "From the Quarrymen viewpoint, the Eyrie is weaker than usual; David is out of town, our upper security has mysteriously vanished, and they have themselves a hostage."

Hudson sighed. "So what d' you propose we do, then, lass?"

"The last thing they expect, mate," Sarah answered, looking at Fox. For a moment, she sounded remarkably like Dingo. "We fight back."

Lex suddenly jumped. "Shh! I think I got something!" As they quieted down, he turned a few dials and pushed a few buttons. "Control Tower calling Goodyear Blimp! Goodyear Blimp, do you read?"

There was a long stretch of static, then suddenly a voice broke through the interference. "Ha, ha, Lex," Broadway snapped. "Remind me to lock you in the fridge when we get back."

Brooklyn let out a whoop, and Sarah smacked him lightly with a rolled- up chart. "Glad to hear you, too," Lex said. "You able to get in touch with Elisa and Goliath? We need everyone back here pronto."

"No sign of them," Broadway said, suddenly serious. "What's up?"

"The usual chaos." As Lex started to fill them in, Sarah and Fox turned back to the piles of schematics, looking for loopholes or assets.

Sarah picked up one of the charts and looked it over. "A force-field? This still work?"

"It might," Fox answered. "But the system was badly damaged, and it might require a few recalibrations. If you can get at least a low-frequency surge out of it, be my guest."

"Hmm." Sarah studied the figures and specifications. "Maybe, but I had something else in mind, something I know I lot better." She smiled wolfishly as Fox sent her a curious look. "You ever manage to rebuild that e-frame Hyena trashed?"

Her employer grinned back as the conversation behind them came back to Sarah's attention. "Three of you? Huh?" Lex said.

"Um, well, we sort of ran into someone new in the park," Broadway admitted. "Calls himself Twilight. Real suspicious, but seems okay enough. Doesn't talk much, but he says he's willing to help."

Hudson frowned. "D' you know anything about him, lad?" The stigma of Demona and Thailog remained in their minds.

Broadway spoke more quietly. "He says he doesn't have a clan, and I think that's the honest truth. But he's pretty close-mouthed otherwise. It took all of Angela's persuasive power to coax him out. Of course, he'd been grazed by a bullet, so I guess I can't blame him for being a bit jumpy."

With a sigh, Brooklyn looked over at Hudson, who nodded solemnly. "Bring him with you, then. We're going to need all the help we can get, and it'll probably be safer here tonight."

Angela broke in suddenly. "Do you need us to find Elisa and my father?"

Before Lex could answer, Fox's eyes lit up. "Wait, I know who could help--" She turned on her heel and dashed down the hall, heading towards the nursery.

"I guess not," Lex said. "Look, just get here in one piece, okay? We don't have much time. Lex out."

"See you then," Broadway said, cutting the connection.

The three gargoyles and one young woman looked at each other, confused. "Who's this Twilight, I wonder?" Hudson murmured.

Sarah looked in the direction Fox had run. "What was that about?"

"How are we going to get through to Goliath?" Brooklyn asked.

Lex snapped his talons. "The police frequency! Of course!" They stared at him. "Elisa has to know about that riot by now! Or maybe Matt does. If we can find either one of them at the station--"

"--We can get through to Goliath!" Sarah finished, tapping on the speakerphone and starting to dial. "Maybe someone at the police station knows where one of them are."

"Worth a shot," Brooklyn admitted as Fox dashed back into the office, livid with anger and panic.

They turned to stare at her. "WHERE'S ALEX?!?!?"

"A lesson?" Hudson asked. "Did Puck take him out tonight?"

Fox glowered. "Not that I know of. I'm going to kill my mother."

"What are you two talking about???" Sarah exploded as the line at the station began to ring.

As he shouldered his way through the crowd of cops, secretaries and other characters swarming through the precinct, Matt finally made it to his desk and snatched up the phone on the third ring. "Bluestone," he shouted over the din. God, I hate working on Saturdays.

"Detective?" He jerked up; even over the clamor of the station, the accent was familiar. "This is Sarah Adams. I work for Fox Xanatos, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Elisa had regaled him with stories of Sarah, Lex, and midnight terrorism. He took a deep breath, turning serious. "This is about that idiotic riot, isn't it?"

She sighed. "Sort of. What do you know about that?"

Holding the phone between his chin and shoulder, Matt began rifling through a small stack of reports. "Absolutely no motive beside scaring the hell out of a couple thousand people. Pair of guys with masks and guns snuck in through the service elevators and just started shooting in the air. They caused a fortune in property damage, but no one was hurt, and no money was taken." He smiled at her sigh of relief. "I suppose you have an idea of the motive?"

"I think we have an impending Quarrymen attack," she answered, and he almost knocked over his chair. "Lex can't get through to Elisa or Goliath. You have any clue where either of them are tonight?"

Matt frowned. Curiouser and curiouser... "As far as I know, they should be around the Bronx, if you can believe that. It's out of the precinct, but Elisa's looking into some kidnapping case that sort of found its way up there." Sarah groaned, and he bit his lip. "Look, I'll try to get to her if I can. How much time do we have?"

"Not much," the Australian girl said worriedly. "About an hour, two hours tops." She paused. "Also, something that's sort of related - you get a missing person report on a guy named Drew Harrison?"

"Doesn't ring a bell, but we probably have. Any details?"

Sarah blew air through her lips. "Twenty-one, black hair, green eyes, about six foot one. He's...sick, and it shows. Sound familiar?"

"Yeah." Matt was starting to develop a headache. "Not a report, but I think I saw your guy in the station last night. As for anything beyond that, I'll have to check."

"So he was telling the truth," she muttered. "Good Lord. I don't know if we can deal with that now." There was a pause. "I guess all you can do is find Elisa and Goliath. We're gonna need all the help we can get."

Looking up, he could see Maria Chavez moving through the crowd, and she did not look happy. Matt made a mental note to end the war with Elisa once the night was over. "All right. I'm going now. I'll update you when I find them."

With a brief goodbye, he was up and out the door before Captain Chavez could catch him.