Author's note: This idea just came to me all of a sudden. Never before was I ever going to write a Disney animated character in this type of situation, but. . . I do respect most of Disney, and by all means, this is not meant to be a sign of disrespect. So standard disclaimers--All of the characters from Gargoyles belong to Disney and it's affiliates. Jack, Christina, Stacey, Mike, Jimmy, Gary, and Roberto (PBILE) are all copyright to me.

Italics are for thoughts, flashbacks, and languages other than english.

Warnings: This story will become a slash story, (duh--one of my original characters is gay) so if this isn't your cup of tea, or you are not that open minded, please do not read. If you do and you criticize AKA flame. . . you yourself will look like nothing but a retard.

Oh, and one more thing. This takes place after the Gargoyles series, but before the Goliath Chronicles. Never Meant to Be Part 1

The streets of New York were usually busy during the day. And during the night it quieted down after a certain hour. But one thing that didn't change was that crimes were being committed twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

During the span of five months, select museums with rare artifacts were being robbed. Each time there was no evidence of forced entry, and it was already morning by the time anyone noticed that the artifact was gone. The first time it happened, police believed it was an inside job, but none of the leads resolved anything. After the third time it happened, there was no way a tie could be made to any of the employees. Even the security guards, who a majority of them worked for an agency, checked out clean. Finally, one of officers suspected that something a little out of the ordinary was occurring. So he called in a red haired, blue eyed detective by the name of Matt Bluestone.

"I think this is more up your alley," said the cop, his black hair cut short to his scalp.

Detective Bluestone gave him a look. "Oh really? And why is that?"

The cop gave him a sharkish grin, white teeth contrasting against his dark skin. "They call you 'Mulder' among us brothers in blue."

Matt smiled and shook his head. "So, Charles, what makes you think that something 'supernatural' is afoot." He made quotation marks with his hands to emphasize "supernatural".

The cop looked away. "My grandmother was a self proclaimed voodoo priestess. She tried to show me the stuff, but I didn't believe in it then."

"What about now?"

Charles shook his head. "I really don't know. The captain inspected the area himself. There are absolutely no sign of forced entry, glass clases were clean, and the vid tapes got snowy all of a sudden for long amounts of time. No one's been able to clear it up yet. So much for high tech gadgets."

Matt narrowed his eyes. "It's been said that paranormal activities play havoc with electronic activity. You may be right."

Charles nodded. "The only signs of any presence, which hasn't been released to the public, is that there were circles of dried wax found on top of the buildings, each about an inch or two wide in diameter. And spaced out in a circular shape. But no one up at top is taking that into consideration. They get mad when you mention it."

Matt looked thoughtful. "People try to rationalize things they don't understand, or completely ignore it. Not many people are open minded enough to take things like this into consideration. And those that are usually are outcasts from the main group."

Charles chuckled. "Like you," he said, earning a wry look from Matt. He glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "Look, I can honestly say I'm not sure what to think, but I do agree that this is not normal, and I get the chills when I see those spots. They just don't belong there."

Matt thought for a moment. "I think I know who I can call in. . ."

"Not the feds?"

Matt shook his head. "No, not them."


Brown almond shaped eyes scanned the roof top as his dark blond hair fell over his eyes. At 27, Michael Lee had seen more shit than a whole bunch of old foogies put together. He was definitely one of the youngest detectives in his department, and yet the most seasoned. Lately, his line of work had been taking him out of his home in Florida, and into other states, like this place, New York. It had only been four days since they arrived, and already he was in pursuit of two suspects, having spotted them on top of a museum's roof.

Turns out they were incredible fast runners. Made him wonder if they ran from the law often.

He glanced to his left as a man about his height came up to his side.

Roberto Quintanar was currently twenty-three. Ever since high school, he had worked as an intern for the Palm Beach International Law Enforcement, otherwise known as PBILE. Later on, he joined as an armed Law Assistant. Best way to describe his job was as a consultant, researcher, and deputized civillian. His experience gave him some leeway in working undercover, or providing back up. A lot of people were looking past his personal life and seeing what an asset he could be, and many teams tried to borrow him a bit.

The only reason he always was with Mike's particular group was his affinity for some supernatural stuff. Again, very few knew about it, many just ignored their freaky cases. But they all had seen pretty much the same thing, and it was why the group work so well together.

"We lost them somehow, didn't we?" asked Roberto, a very faint hispanic accent coming through.

Mike just grunted in reply.

As he scanned the roof top one more time, gun extended out in front of him, he felt somewhat relieved. Even though he had great faith in Roberto, there was something about his presence that made him nervous about the guy's safety. He knew it wasn't lust, for his whole team was immune to the vast power of seduction that Roberto could project, both willingly and unwillingly. It was one of big brother, or uncle, and maybe, to some degree, dad, despite the short amount of years between them.

Roberto stepped in front of him, also looking into the dark, straining to hear a sound. Mike just turned to look at him, suddenly confirming a conclusion of long ago as to why Roberto refused to become of full fledged cop, or detective.

It was because Roberto was too much of a pretty boy. Or as his mother use to say, before she left back to Japan, a real life bishonen. Roberto was too pretty to be a cop or a detective and he knew it. That's why he opted to remain an assistant. No one would take him seriously as an authority figure. In fact, he was constantly ragged on by those that were too pig headed to see his value. While no one could be fired for sexual orientation anymore, it still wasn't easy to work in an environment that was borderline hostile. That was why Mike was proud of Roberto. The kid survived into adulthood, making new allies each time. It seemed to be that a little under half of the department was charmed by or smitten with him. They stood up for him.

Now if only Gary matured.

Mike let out a snort.

"What are you thinking about?" Roberto asked, suspiciously, his voice holding none of the feminine accent that most people attributed with his kind.

"Oh, nothing," Mike replied, trying to be serious. Gary Graham was as homophobic as most of them come. He worked well with Roberto, but always ragged on him, even when they were young teenagers. He claimed to be an open minded person, but putting the two together, it was amazing they were alive. To make matters more irritating, Roberto's ability only worked best when Gary was around. For better or for worse, the two might as well tie the knot.

"They got away from us," Roberto sighed, putting his gun away while looking around one last time. "There's nothing up here but sculptures."

Mike nodded. "They must have given us the slip, cause these don't even provide adequate cover."

"Either that or you didn't really see which way they went." Roberto looked behind them, seeing only a large vent near the edge of the building. He looked back at Mike, dismissing it.

Mike narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "I know they came up here. But if they are into that voodoo mumbo jumbo, maybe they transformed themselves into one of these statues. Ugh, look at them! They're ugly!"

Roberto looked at one. "Well, I don't know about ugly. They are intriguing. And voodoo has nothing to do with transformation. Transferance of a soul into an animal, maybe... but not actual transformation." He paused as he looked at the statues in front of him. "I wonder what's the artist's fascination is with gargoyles."

Both men looked at the statues. Most of them were small gargoyles with twisted faces. They were waist high and about three feet in length.

Mike's eyes raked over seven more statues. Well...six and a half. The other one looked halfway finished. "Check these out. At least these look human. Well, except for the dog-like one and this one with a beak. Have you ever seen anything more ridiculous in your life?"

Roberto walked over and looked at them. The one Mike had pointed out was a bit taller than him. The creature was muscular and lean, two horns protruding out of it's head. It's mouth was beak shaped, and hair cascaded down it's back. And it's eyes. . . "I don't think it's so ridiculous," Roberto said softly, lightly touching the wings that came down. "It's kind of. . . handsome, in it's own way."

Mike looked at him. "Never ceases to amaze me how you and Jack can see things so differently from us. You mean to tell me, that if this thing was real, it wouldn't frighten you? You'd still find it, um, handsome?"

Roberto gave him a look of mild annoyance. "Um, no! Any moving stone would scare anybody. I just mean, in still form, it's pretty cool looking."

Mike snorted while shaking his head. "Come on, let's join the others. I mean, what are we doing up here? The temperature's dropping, there are no bad guys in sight, I mean, you obviously saw them coming into the wrong building. . ." Mike's dirty blond hair flapped in the wind as he made his way to the door that led to the stairs.

"Excuse me?" huffed Roberto, taking that moment to peer over the edge of the building. "Mike!"

Mike ran to his side and looked down. "Fucking shit!" he exclaimed, tearing down towards the stairs. Down in the streets below was one of their suspects, emerging from the alley. "Stay here and watch him, call back up."

Roberto reached for his cell as he watched the man below realize that he was spotted. He heard the door slam as Mike reached the structure and heard the clanging of his steps.

A sudden movement caught the corner of his eyes.

Roberto whirled around, gun in hand. There was nothing. He slowly lowered his weapon and looked back at the street below. He began to dial a number into his cell.

He whirled around when he heard a heavy clang. A figure stood before him, arm raised, gun pointed at him. At his feet was a part of a broken stone, blocking the door.

Roberto raised his gun, heart thumping against this chest. The other person was quicker, and fired first.

Roberto cried out as he stumbled back, pain flaring up in his shoulder. He crashed into one of the statues. He opened his eyes in time to see the person flying at him, arms stretching out. Hands clenched tightly around his throat, pushing him back further, towards the edge of the building.

Roberto shoved the gun into his attacker's ribs, but the person grabbed his wrist and yanked it outwards, the gun pointing away from the both of them.

With his free hand, Roberto tried to pry the other man's hand from his throat, but the grip was incredibly strong.

"Let. . . go," he gasped out.

"When you are dead," was the reply.


"Detective Bluestone?" asked a young man with blond hair. His sky blue eyes sparkled with life.

Matt nodded. "Jackson Luxer, I presume?"

The young man winced. "Jack is fine. Jackson is my father."

Matt nodded. "This is my partner Elisa Maza."

"Nice to meet you," said the dark haired woman.

Jack pointed back to his fellow team members. "This is Officer Christina G. Graham and Officer Jimmy Joe."

A black haired and green eyed woman nodded in response as the tall, black man shook hands with Matt.

"This is Christina's brother, Detective C. Gary Graham, and Detectives Michael Lee and Stacey McDonald."

Stacey nodded, chocolate brown eyes staring at the two detectives, as if reading them. Her long brown hair shined brightly under the light.

"And this is our Assistant, Roberto Quintanar."

"A pleasure to meet you," said the young man.


The seven visiting law enforcers sat in a circle, listening to Detectives Maza and Bluestone.

"I went over other cases and sure enough, there were traces of wax found on the roof tops. One of them, however, reported a bit of blood on site. No match has been made. One security guard was questioned, but let go on lack of evidence."

"Why was he asked?" questioned Christina. "Because one of the employees was missing, a lady named Catherine Smith. Someone pointed out that he had a bit of obsession with her, to the point that she had filed for sexual harrassment a day before her disappearance was known. Coincidently enough, the museum was robbed the night of her last day."

Mike nodded as Roberto jotted down some notes in his notebook.

"So we have a bit of blood on site, and a missing employee. Maybe she was used for a riual killing?" asked Gary.

"Aren't you being a bit pessimistic?" asked Roberto, in a bored tone, earning a dark look from the green eyed man.

"Well, sadly enough, it always seems to be the state of our affairs," muttered Jimmy. "Has there been any other missing cases?"

"Not exactly."

"How so?" asked Christina.

"Each museum that was robbed seemed to have employees that gave in their resignations, or called that they weren't coming to work any longer. They were all sought out for questioning, since many of them had worked their last day the night of the robberies. But so far, none of them have been found. They're all still wanted for questioning. And I'll admit that they were suspects at first, but none of the employees had any sort of obvious connection to each other, so it couldn't be some type of crime ring."

Jack nodded. "Maybe we should start searching for John Does."

"And with no other leads, we have to search the city ourselves to find suspects and clues?" asked Christina.

"Well," said Elisa. "We have informants who keep on eye on what goes around. I'm sure they might see something now that we know candles on roof tops are involved."

"Can we meet these informants?" asked Jack, staring at one of the crime scene pictures. He missed the look that Elisa and Matt gave each other.

Stacey, however, didn't. She just narrowed her eyes and remained silent.

"Um," stammered Matt. "They haven't met with any other people other than us. "

Jack looked up. "Oh?"

"They pretty antisocial," responded Elisa.

"Oh. . . "

The other detectives gave each other a look.


The wind was soft enough that it helped keep gliders afloat. A red skinned creature glided alone, white hair flapping in the breeze. In a distance, he could spot two other creatures. One of them was bluish green, with a human-like face, and somewhat large around the middle. The other was a grey- lavender colored female, with dark brown hair.

The creature sighed, catching the attention of the small yellow skinned glider on his left.

The yellow one glanced at the other two, then back at the red one.

"Don't worry, Brooklyn," he said. "I'm sure we'll meet other gargoyles. Females."

Brooklyn gave a weary grin. "Yeah, I know, Lex," he said. "But it's kind of depressing when you are rejected twice."

Lexington looked at the other two one more time. "Broadway and Angela are perfect for each other, Brook. It just makes me feel sad seeing you pine for her. I stopped when I saw how much she likes him."

Brooklyn let out a sigh, then pointed downwards. "What's that?" he asked.

Lexington looked down. "They look like statues. Hey, I think that's the building where F. Forward lives."

"The sculpturer?"

Lexington nodded. "Shall we see just what his secret projects are?"

Brooklyn nodded. "Why not? It doesn't look like Elisa's suspects are going to hit tonight anyhow."

Both gargoyles flew down towards the building.

"Whoa," said Lexington, landing next to a particularly grotesque stone gargoyle. "This guy is obsessed!"

"Yeah," responded Brooklyn, in a disturbed tone.

Lexington moved towards him, wondering what made him sound that way. He gasped when he found himself staring at a replica of himself. "It looks just like me," he said in awe.

Brooklyn grunted, staring at his stone self. "Yeah. Just like me," he said in a disgusted voice.

Lexington winced, not knowing what to say. Ever since Maggie called him a monster the first time she saw him, his self esteem dropped down. Angela choosing Broadway made it worse.

Suddenly they heard a sound.

Brooklyn and Lexington jumped on top of the building's stairwell entrance, lying low and still.

A man came out of the stairwell, his breathing rushed and panicked. He ran around the stairwell's structure, and hid in the shadow of a large vent near the edge of the building.


"Goliath," said Elisa, after the gargoyles woke up from their stone sleep. "I really need your help."

"What is it?" asked the large grey/lavender gargoyle, leaping down to meet the woman.

Elisa told him of the burglaries taking place, and suspected rituals, including that they may have victims. Goliath's eyes narrowed. He glanced back at the gargoyles standing behind him.

"We will keep an eye out for these evil people," he said.

Elisa only nodded. She held out several pictures. "These are visiting detectives that are helping us," she said. "Try not to show yourselves to them, but don't attack them either. They've dealt with stuff that makes them shoot first and ask questions later." She paused. "Well, most of them," she corrected herself.


The door slammed open again and two men holding guns came out. Brooklyn tensed up, wishing he knew what exactly was gong on.

Moonlight lit the face of one of them, and Brooklyn recognized him from the pictures that Elisa had showed them. If he remembered correctly, the man's name was Roberto.

He caught a glance of the other man. Mike, he thought to himself.

The two gargoyles watched as both men walked about, guns held out in front of them.

"We lost them somehow, didn't we?" asked Roberto, as they both looked around.

A moment later, the blond Asian looking man snorted.

"What are you thinking about?" asked the Latin man, suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing," Mike replied, his seriousness sounded a bit forced.

"They got away from us," Roberto sighed, putting his gun away while looking around one last time. "There's nothing up here but sculptures."

Mike nodded. "They must have given us the slip, cause these don't even provide adequate cover."

"Either that or you didn't really see which way they went."

"I know they came up here. But if they are into that voodoo mumbo jumbo, maybe they transformed themselves into one of these statues. Ugh, look at them! They're ugly!"

"Well, I don't know about ugly. They are intriguing. And voodoo has nothing to do with transformation. Transferance of a soul into an animal, maybe... but not actual transformation." There was a pause. "I wonder what's the artist's fascination is with gargoyles."

Brooklyn and Lexington peered over and spotted the two men looking at their replicas. "Check these out. At least these look human. Well, except for the dog-like one and this one with a beak. Have you ever seen anything more ridiculous in your life?"

Lexington peered at Brooklyn, watching the flicker of self hate in his eyes.

"I don't think it's so ridiculous," he heard the other one say, and caught him llightly touching the wings of Brooklyn's statue. "It's kind of. . . handsome, in it's own way."

Both gargoyles jerked back in surprise.

"Never ceases to amaze me how you and Jack can see things so differently from us. You mean to tell me, that if this thing was real, it wouldn't frighten you? You'd still find it, um, handsome?"

"Um, no! Any moving stone would scare anybody. I just mean, in still form, it's pretty cool looking."

Mike snorted. "Come on, let's join the others. I mean, what are we doing up here? The temperature's dropping, there are no bad guys in sight, I mean, you obviously saw them coming into the wrong building. . ." Mike's dirty blond hair flapped in the wind as he made his way to the door that led to the stairs.

"Excuse me?" huffed Roberto, and after a moment, shouted "Mike!"

"Fucking shit!" he exclaimed, tearing down towards the stairs. Brooklyn and Lexington pressed themselves flat against the edge. "Stay here and watch him, call back up."

They heard the door slam shut and a clang of steps as Mike presumable went down to chase whoever it was they saw. A moment later, they heard a thump and a clang of something heavy hitting the door, followed by a gun shot.


Roberto grumbled as he walked towards his suite's door. Someone was going to pay for interrupting his shower. He fumbled with the belt around his waist.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he muttered, as the pounding on the door became louder. It stopped.

He was a few feet within reach when the door busted inward.

"Waah!" he shouted, as he gave up on the belt and just pulled his robe shut.

Gary and Mike stood in front of the entrance, breathing heavily.

"What is your problem?!" Roberto fumed, walking past them, managing to tie his belt. He grabbed the door, slammed it shut, then blinked. He glanced down at his feet, which was wet with something red, then back at his two partners. They nodded. He slowly opened the door and took a good look.

A puddle of blood was seeping it's way nto his room, a white rose in the center, slowly turning pink.

Roberto slowly closed his door, his anger gone out of him, replaced by a small drop of fear.

"I take it we're on to something and don't even know it."

Mike and Gary nodded.


Roberto stared up into the eyes of his assailant.

There was a manic glee in that look, and it frightened him to the core.

He felt his strength giving out, and there was a roaring sound in his head.

The attacker's hand lessened it's grip.

Roberto gasped for air, and then gasped again as the person hoisted him up and over the ledge. For a split second, he hung in mid air. And then he began to fall.

Roberto let out a gut wrenching scream as the air rushed up around him.

Tears filled his eyes as the wind stung his eyes, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw an angel flying towards him.


Brooklyn and Lexington had leaped to their feet when they heard the gunshot. Looking over, they saw that the detective was about to be killed.

With a mighty roar, both gargoyles jumped into the air and glided towards the two humans.

The attacker glanced at them, then did something unexpected.

He shoved the detective off of the building.

Brooklyn paused in thought for a moment. "Lex, after him!" he shouted, pointing to the attacker, before diving past the man.

He spotted the detective and wrapped his wings close, trying to gain velocity.

The floor was getting close awfully fast.

He stretched out his arms to capture the man, and spotted a brief look of horror cross the young man's face.

There was a brief flash of fury in him, but he locked it away and and reached for the Latin man.


There is some truth to seeing one's life flash before one's very eyes in a near death experience. And for six incredibly long seconds, Roberto relived all of his horrifying moments.

I can't believe I wanted to jump off of a building, much less tried, just five years ago, he thought to himself. Ironic.

Then he spotted the what he first thought was an angel. Then, as it got closer, it took the appearance of a demon, and it scared him.

A sure sign I'm going to hell, he thought.

He shut his eyes, waiting for death, all his breath gone out of him. And then he felt muscular arms wrap around his back and legs. He instinctively wrapped his own arms around the demon's neck, and his eyes snapped open.

It's the stone gargoyle, he realized. Only, alive!

His stomach shifted inside as he went from falling to gliding upwards as the gargoyle spread his wings, catching the wind.

Roberto let out a short muffled shout as he held on tighter.


Lexington only had time to nod before the attacker swung a gun at him. He dodged the bullets, ducking behind what appeared to be a half completed statue of Angela.

He heard someone yelling "Roberto" from inside the stairwell, followed by several bangs. The door burst open from the top, and the blond Asian man tumbled over it, sliding onto the ground. He leapt up.

The human immediately ducked behind more statues as bullets began to fly in his direction.

Lexington looked around, adrenaline rushing through his veins, eyes glowing white.

Seeing that the shooter was distracted, he climbed on top of one of the statues. With a roar, he charged the shooter.

The man's eyes grew wide in surprise.

Lexington slammed into him full force.

The attacker grunted as his body hit the concrete. Lexington checked for a pulse before moving among the other statues and faking another pose.

A second later, Mike approached the man.

"Wake up, you filthy piece of roach dung," he said, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. He tucked his gun behind his back and flipped the man over on his stomach.

He snapped on the handcuffs and then rolled the other guy back up. Grabbing the shirt collar, he pulled the man up in sitting position. He slapped the guy not too gently on his face.

"Hey, roach shit! Wake up." His voice held a small tone of panic. "Wake up."

The man groaned, eyes fluttering open. He blinked for a few moments, before staring up at Mike.

"Where the fuck is my partner?" Mike asked, teeth clenched.

The man began to grin. "He made a lovely sound when he fell," he said. "Before the demons took him away."

Mike's face turned into horror.

Lexington remained hidden, hoping that Brooklyn got to the human in time.

He watched as Mike's face twisted into rage.

"What did you do?" he asked coldly.

The man grinned. "What does it matter? At this height, you may have to put him in a jar to take him home!" He began to laugh.

"You have a right to remain silent," growled Mike, as he pulled back his arm and punched the guy in the face.

The laughter stopped abruptly as the man fell back, unconscious.

Mike ran to the side of the building and peered down. "Oh, god," he said, sounding defeated. "Oh, god, what do I tell the others?"

He pulled out a walkie. "This is Detective Lee. We need a prisoner transport system. . . and an ambulance. We have an officer down. I repeat . . . an officer down."

Lexington slowly moved away, wanting to let the human know that his partner was alive. However, he had a gun, and most armed people, when faced with something they don't know, shot first and asked questions later.


Brooklyn glanced at the human that was currently cradled in his arms.

Brown eyes stared at him, a detached look in them.

"Are you for real?" Roberto asked, his speech slurred.

Brooklyn's eyes narrowed. The human was losing a lot of blood. "Yeah, I am," he responded softly, hoping that at least a conversation would keep the detective from completely passing out.

"Are you a demon or an angel?"


"Oh. I'm glad."

Brooklyn was startled. "Pardon?"

"Well, if you were a demon...or an angel, it would mean I'm dead. But since you're neither... " Roberto took a deep breath. "What. . . what are you?"

"I'm a gargoyle."

The detective's face looked puzzled. "But you're not made of stone."

The human's voice was filled with so much confusion that Brooklyn laughed. "Not during the night. I'm flesh and blood, like you." Then he mentally berated himself. That was too much information to give to a stranger, he thought.

"Oh," said Roberto, still puzzled. "Ugly stone sculpture by day, handsome living gargoyle by night. Not much of a secret identity."

"Well, I'm far from Superman or Batman."

Roberto chuckled weakly. "But you flew down to my rescue."



"Glided. My wings aren't meant for flying."

Roberto remained silent for a moment. "'Gliding to my rescue doesn't sound as heroic. You flew. No one will know."

Brooklyn mentally shook his head. He had never come across a human that didn't scream or faint from fright. Of course the blood loss could be affecting his way of reasoning. Brooklyn spotted the hospital. "We're almost there," he said.

"Good," murmured Roberto. "I don't know how much longer I can. . ." his eyes fluttered closed as his head rolled back.

"Great," muttered Brooklyn. He glided down into an alley near the hospital. "How to get you there without attracting much attention?" he asked himself softly. He slowly set Roberto down and quickly rifled through his pockets. He pulled out a cellular phone.

"Perfect," he thought, dialing the emergency number. He waited a few seconds. "Hello? There's a man that's been shot!" He gave out the directions and hung up, tucking the phone back into it's place. Then he climbed the wall to the top of the building and waited.

Within moments that ambulance arrived along with a patrol car. The police man checked the area and deemed it safe for the paramedics.

Brooklyn stayed hidden watching as they loaded up the unconscious detective. As the vehicle moved away, Brooklyn thought back on the conversation.

Handsome gargoyle? he thought to himself. Never been thought about as handsome before.


Roberto's eyes snapped open as he heard a door burst open.

Jackson Luxer Jr. stood there at the entrance to his hospital room, blonde hair astray, sky blue eyes wide in fear. "Thank goodness you're alive!" he said. "Mike told us you had been pushed off of the building but when we searched you weren't there, and Gary and Christina were flipping out, and Detective Bluestone was just dumbfounded. . ."

Roberto let out a tired chuckle. "Take a breath," he said.

"Omph!" Jack was pushed forward.

Stacey stood behind him, followed by Maza and Bluestone.

"Jesus!" Stacey shouted. "What did you end up doing? Following another guy rooftop to rooftop till he shot you in that alley? What did he look like? We have the other guy."

Roberto shook his head and opened his mouth. "I. . . " Then he frowned. "I really don't know. It's like a dream. I was pushed. I know that. But then I was flying, or gliding. And it was as if I had been rescued by some winged creature. . ."

"A winged creature?" asked Detective Bluestone, shooting Detective Maza a look. Maza remained silent.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "An angel?"

"A demon?" asked Stacey, looking protective.

Roberto shook his head. "Uh, neither. Well, I think I had a conversation, something about it being a gargoyle?"

Maza and Bluestone glanced at each other.

Roberto saw them and looked thoughtful for a moment.

The door opened again. Mike stood there, with Christina, Gary, and Jimmy.

"Thank God, you're alive," he said. "Thought I'd lost you, kid. Now, what's this about gargoyles?"

"He dreamed up that he was saved by one."

Mike snorted, shaking a bit, but trying to look like everything was all right. "Gargoyles, huh? Must have been because of them ugly statues we saw."

"They weren't ugly," Roberto said immediately.

Mike rolled his eyes. "Oh, right, I forgot. The funny looking one was handsome in it's own way."

Roberto sunk down in his bed, looking unhappy.

Gary opened his mouth, and then glanced at Maza and Bluestone. He quickly shut it closed. Roberto glanced at him and looked somewhat grateful and relieved.

Stacey nudged him over and sat on the edge of his bed. "The doctors said you should be out in two to three days. There was some blood loss, but the damage to the surrounding tissue of the entry wound wasn't so bad."

"I'm just going to be in some pain, huh?" Roberto asked.

"Of course," said Christina. "That's what you get for trying to be Superman."

Roberto smiled to himself.

Christina continued, not noticing his reaction. "You're a man of flesh, not of steel, although if you did chase a guy roof top to roof top, you've got the leaping buildings in a single bound down pact."

"Christina," interrupted Gary. "You're going to give him a headache if you continue to chatter like that."

Christina stuck out her tongue.

A nurse entered the room, clip board in hand. "No more than two visitors, please," she said, none too pleasantly.

"Oh, you have them here too?" Mike asked, looking at Bluestone.

"Have what?" asked the red haired detective, looking confused.

"Old sticklers."

"Out!" demanded the nurse, glaring at Mike.

"Leaving, leaving! Sheesh." Mike stepped outside the room, but remained in sight.

Stacey tried not to smile. "Sorry about that." She nodded at Roberto. "We'll be back to visit you."

"That man is not allowed back into this room," said the nurse, glaring at Mike.

"Well, excuse me. But see? My toe hasn't crossed the line, and look at me!" said Mike, tauntingly, standing in the door way. "I ain't in the room, so there! I am not in the room, you have no power over me! And when I come a visiting, I can stand here all day, too.""

Jimmy stepped through, pushing Mike back. "Be nice," he said, warningly.

"Hai," Mike replied, seeing the threatening look in the black man's eyes.

Jimmy nodded.

The other detectives walked out the door.

"Detective Bluestone? Maza?" Roberto called out, as the others left.

Bluestone and Maza paused. "Yes?" asked Bluestone, turning back towards the injured man.

"Tell me about gargoyles."


Brooklyn sat on the edge of the rooftop, under a light. From his position, he could make out the detective Roberto, and his friends, Elisa and Matt.

He leaped up into the air, and glided towards the window. He landed on the edge and pressed himself up against the wall, trying to listen in.

"Tell me about gargoyles," he heard Roberto say.

"Gargoyles?" Elisa asked, clearly surprised.

Brooklyn risked looking in.

Roberto's face was turned away, looking up at Elisa and Matt. Then he looked down, his hands fiddling with a piece of thread. "My job includes a large amount of research. Before coming here, I checked up on other paranormal or unusual events. One of them mentioned the existence of gargoyles in Manhattan. Since this is your district, have you ever seen one?"

"You really believe you were rescued by one, don't you?" Elisa asked, feigning disbelief.

Roberto looked up at her. "Does it matter what I believe? Is it true? Has there been reported gargoyle sighting?"

Matt nodded.

"Matt!" Elisa said, objecting.

Brooklyn tilted his head, wondering just what the red haired man was going to say.

"Of course they get treated like UFO sightings. Not many people believe," he said, shooting Elisa a look.

Roberto began to look suspicious. "Yeah, I know the feeling. Comes with the territory on the stuff that we deal with." He sighed. "When I first saw him, I thought it was an angel. Then he got closer and I thought it was a demon."

"You sound as if you've actually seen them," commented Matt.

Roberto went still, staring at his hands that also ceased to move.

"You have?" Matt asked, incredulously.

"Demons, yeah. Angels, no, not really. More like benign spirits."

"You and I have got to get together and talk."

Roberto smiled softly. "I don't think so. Most of them are events I'd rather forget." He sighed. "Either way, I realized he wasn't either one. And he told me he was a gargoyle. I just...I just don't remember what else I said to him. Everything seemed kind of fuzzy afterwards. I was probably going into shock from the blood loss, just didn't realize it."

"What did he look like?" Elisa asked.

Roberto tilted his head. "He was red. . . white hair. . . and such an intense look. Lean. Exotic. It's kind of hard to describe. He was magnificent."

Brooklyn felt his face flush at the compliment. Never before had he been called "magnificent."

Elisa and Matt raised an eyebrow.

"He seemed very intelligent. Not at all like the other kinds I've seen."


"Stone structures animated. Mostly for an offensive defense, if you know what I mean." He sighed again, not giving the other two a chance to say anything.

Brooklyn ducked back as Roberto turned his head towards the window. "I don't know," he heard the human say. "If only I was able to talk to him more. . ."

"Assuming you weren't dreaming," added Elisa.

"Yeah," sighed Roberto. "Sorry for wasting your time."

Brooklyn remained still.

"Uh, Bluestone, wait," Roberto suddenly said.

"I'll meet you at the car," said Elisa.

Brooklyn glanced back in, watching Elisa leave the hospital room.

"She's hiding something, isn't she?" Roberto asked.

"What do you mean?" Matt asked in return.

Roberto snorted. "In my past experience, when you want to avoid an answer, you resort to responding with another question. She knows something, doesn't she? And you know something. What is it that you aren't telling me?"

Matt sighed. "It's not my place. But in a way, you were right on the vision you had the first time. Manhattan does have guardian angels watching over it."

Matt turned and left, leaving Roberto alone.

The human remained still for a moment, before reaching over to turn off his light, and settling down to sleep.

Brooklyn continued to watch him for a moment.

A whooshing sounds was heard overhead.

"There you are," said Lexington.

Brooklyn glanced at him. "He's doing fine. He just finished talking to Elisa and Matt."

Lexington peered in. "He doesn't really look like detective material," he said.

Brooklyn chuckled. "He asked about us. Whether we exist or not. Seems that he was a little out of it when I caught him. And he tried to get Matt to go into more detail. I'm thinking he suspects that Elisa and Matt know more about us than they are letting on."

"Won't it be kind of dangerous to let them know about us?" Lexington asked.

Brooklyn shrugged. "He doesn't seem afraid about us. Well, about me."


"He thinks I'm magnificent."

Lexington gaped as Brooklyn leaped of the ledge, laughing.

"Strange human," Lexington muttered, glancing back at the window before following Brooklyn's example.


Elisa glanced up at the two shadows that were heading towards her. She smiled. "Brooklyn. Lexington. Thanks for saving Mr. Quintanar."

"Not a problem," replied Brooklyn, landing by her car. He looked at her. "Are you eventually going to tell him about us?" he asked.

Elisa looked at him, somewhat startled by his question.

"I kind of overheard you guys talking," Brooklyn confessed.

Elisa smiled. "Should have guessed." She sighed. "That's something I'd have to speak with Goliath about. So far he seems okay with the idea of you guys existing, but just because he's okay with it, the others won't be."

"Well, he does suspect you are hiding something."


"He's right," said Matt, joining them. "That's why he asked that I stay behind. He believes that you know more than you let on."

"Great," muttered Elisa. "And no way of knowing if he is true on his words or just another fortune hunter."

"I got good vibes from him," responded Matt, somewhat defensively.

"Either way, we have to be careful."

"No, you're just being selfish again," Matt teased, opening the car door for his partner.

Elisa growled softly as she got in.

Brooklyn and Lexington glanced at each other. "Selfish?"


Roberto looked out of his window into the black skies.

Was I dreaming him? he asked himself. He sighed and sat back, staring at the ceiling. But if I did dream him up, how did I get here? Last I clearly remember. . . I was being held over the edge of the building.

The young man shook his head. Must be one of my more odd fantasies. He blushed. But that would be the first fantasy with a none human.

Roberto closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep.

If he does exist, I wish I could talk to him at least once. Well. . . one coherent conversation.


"I don't think that it is wise," said Goliath, turning away from Elisa and Matt. "As you have said, they have delt with strange events, maybe events equal to our own."

"From what they hinted at, maybe even more," said Elisa.

"If so, mythical creatures such as ourselves will be approached with caution, and that makes for tense situations."

"But think of the possibilities of increasing our allies," argued Brooklyn. "If we can start with just one. . ."

"No," said Goliath, firmly.

"Father," added Angela. "We only have the support of people who admire us for what we are. Let's approach these humans so that they can support us for who we are."

Goliath remained silent, thinking.

"I could approach the one in the hospital," offered Brooklyn. "After all, I rescued him."

Goliath's shoulder sagged as the younger gargoyles and the humans glanced at each other in relief. "Fine," said Goliath, relenting. "It is true that we need the humans. But approach him with caution, Brooklyn."

Brooklyn nodded.


Roberto opened his eyes.

The hospital was pretty quiet, but something had woken him up.

He tensed as he heard the sound of a window sliding open. The curtains blew inward as someone stepped into the room.

"Who's there?" he asked, hand near the call button.

"Uh," he heard a male voice stall. "I . . . I just came to see how you were doing."

"Do you normally sneak in through the windows?"

"I can't exactly waltz in through the front doors."

Roberto remained silent for a moment, before asking his next question. "Are you the one that caught me?"

His reply was also silence.

"Yeah," he finally heard.

Roberto sat up. "You're not human, are you?"


Roberto remained silent again. "Can you step closer?"

The figure moved towards him. Through the moon in the background, Roberto could make out horns and hair, and a set of wings.

"Mind if I turn on the light?"

"Only if you promise not to scream from fright."

Roberto's hand paused by the lamp. "I promise," he said softly, before flipping the switch.

The room was illuminated with a soft glow. Standing near him stood the red creature from his memory.

"Santa Madre," he whispered.

"Brooklyn's the name," said the gargoyle, extending out a hand.

"Roberto," the man replied, his voice faint with awe.

tbc. . .

Quick language guide

bishonen -- Pretty boy (unusually pretty)

Santa Madre-- Holy Mother