All the characters appearing in Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The Goliath Chronicles are copyright Buena Vista Television/The Walt Disney Company. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder. All original characters are the property of Spacebabie

by: Spacebabie

Email: LadyAndromeda@smstars.zzn.com

Feedback is not only welcome but greatly appreciated.

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Friendship

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"I want each of ye t’ make one human friend at least."~ Hudson (Holidays)

Broadway rescues Cookie from a group of street punks

"My name is Broadway." ~Broadway

"Cookie, and yes like the baked good."~ Cookie

Broadway and Cookie shaking hands (Return of The Hunt)

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Small hands the color of an unripe olive swept a few packages of Twinkies and bags of Doritos into a slightly frayed duffel bag. Lexington checked the kitchen counter to see if he had forgotten anything. His large eyes zeroed in on the pack of playing cards. He almost wanted to smack himself

"I can’t believe I almost forgot these," He picked up the deck and placed it in the bag. "It’s my turn to bring them." After zipping the duffel closed he turned to see Rayne was watching him the whole time.

"Are you sure Goliath doesn’t frown on gambling?" The end of her tail flickered slightly.

"He frowns on gambling," Lex hefted the bag over his shoulders. "But we don’t bet money when we play poker." The we referred to Darin and his two room mates. Lex fulfilled his promise to Hudson and made two new human friends through Darin McCormick.

"No money," Rayne repeated and lowered her brow ridges and smiled mischievously. "My love if you are playing strip poker then you should ask me to come."

Lexington’s jaw fell and the duffel bag struck the amber colored tile floor. "We are not stripping!"

"If you wanted the whole castle to see what you are doing then keep on shouting. There are a few key words that will grab everyone’s attention and one of them is stripping."

"but we are aren’t"

"Oh well," Rayne shrugged. "If it’s not money or strip poker then what are you playing for?"

"Fad bits," Lex mumbled while he picked up his bag. "Fad bits are stuff people collected in the past that were once all the rage. Things like Pokemon cards, POGs, mood rings, jelly bracelets, glow sticks, Garbage Pail Kids stickers and other stuff like that."

"In other words Ebay fodder?"

He smiled sheepishly and nodded. "I do have a few packs of Smurfs stickers and a couple of Pex dispensers as well as some of the regular stuff."

"Just as long as you don’t go crazy."

"Oh we never go crazy," Lex chuckled. "Not until we play Ultimate Tournament."

Rayne stared up as she shook her head and sighed. "Looks like I’m not the only one who is going to see a child tonight."

Lex didn’t bother to protest. Sometimes his mate was right on the money. "Do you need to take anything to the Chavez place?"

"I just need to show up. Maria is going to order Chinese take out and Tina and I are going to watch some videos."

"Do you need an escort?" Lexington asked. Her smile was the only answer he needed.

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Hudson perched near the tower that Goliath and most of the clan roosted during the day. Before him spread out on the gray stone floor were an assortment of books. Next to him was a sturdy leather satchel. He was too immensed in deciding on which books to pack to even notice Rayne and Lexington walk past him to the tower stairs.

He did look up when Goliath followed by Bronx, most of the Weres the Cold Duo, Cecilia and Mercutio walked by. Not everyone had the night off. Only those who had reached out and made a human friend. The idea of Friendship Night came about while he and Goliath were discussing their human acquaintances and the request Hudson made a year before. Since they had returned to live at Wyvern the clan had made several new human friends. Rayne had bonded with Tina Chavez. Darin had already known Rayne but his roommates had never met a gargoyle and they had become friends with Lexington. Broadway had become friends with a waitress named Cookie and Brooklyn has a friend named Bob.

Those that had made a human friend would spend a night with them relaxing. Goliath wanted to make sure the city still had it’s night time protection and assigned those who have yet bonded to patrol along with the weregoyles who already had plenty of human friends.

The only Were that was not present was Marle. She, Angela and Brooklyn were going to meet Brooklyn’s friend at Fried Saturn, a P.I.T owned restaurant. Angela had planed to reveal herself as the mysterious artist who donates her paintings to the organization.

Hudson was thankful for Friendship Night because he knows what nights he can visit his friend Jeffrey Robbins on. Whenever he visits he would bring a few books. They usually included ones that his friend had either written or recommended and Hudson would bring another book along as well. Most of the time it was something that Robbins had already read but they would still talk about it.

He raised his head when he felt the large hand of Goliath grab onto his shoulder. "Having trouble deciding old friend?" Goliath asked.

"Aye," Hudson’s talon’s rested on a novel by John Grisham. "I think the third book fer tonight will be this one." He picked it up.

Goliath’s eyes fell on the title as Hudson slid it into his bag. "The Testament?"

"Tis one that has yet t’ be made into a movie." He placed the strap over his shoulder and nodded at the clan. "Good luck lads and lasses."

"I want you to be careful too," Goliath gave his mentor one last smile before he turned to the rest of the clan. Matt, Jerry and Gloria stood closest to Goliath, their tails flicking gently from side to side. Frank leaned his back against the closest wall and folded his arms behind his head. Both Coldstone and Coldfire stood as still as they did when they were normal gargoyles in stone form. Coldfire was as expressionless as always. Coldstone’s was almost as robotic with his hardened almost flesh like stone mouth set in a frown and his one living eye blinking.

Goliath cleared his throat before he spoke. "Bluestone, Gloria and Jerry will patrol the area near the castle. Cecilia and Mercutio," his eyes rested on the other two gargoyles from Avalon. Cecila’s greenish yellow bat like wings unfolded from her shoulders and the red web winged gargoyle straightened up from his couch. "I want you two to patrol Central Park. Coldstone and Coldfire I want you to watch over uptown and Frank and Bronx are with me."

With the patrol teams assigned Goliath lead the group up the stairs of the tallest tower. He would like Both Cecilia and Mercutio to make new friends and he would be pleased to make a few of his own. He knew it would be near impossible for Bronx to attain such a task and both his rookery brother and sister feel stand offish with the humans that they rescue.

"We will try to meet back here before midnight," He wrapped his arms around the bulk of Bronx’s body and lifted him up. He felt the crisp cold air blow through his sable mane before he spread his large wings and leapt off.

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Nobody in the city ever looked up, even after the night of Hunters Moon, few people would stare up at the sky. Nobody would notice if three gargoyles would land on top of a building unless they were trying to look for them.

Brooklyn landed first on the building’s balcony. He saw the glowing sing of Fried Saturn before the two females that glided with him did. He paused to admire the set up of the restaurant, waiting for his mate and Angela to land. The balcony was trimmed with a bright silver railing and had a strip of dark turquoise carpet. The softly glowing sign depicted a pastel colored planet, encircled with golden rings resting on a bright red skillet.

"This place is actually cool looking," Brooklyn smiled.

"What were you expecting?" Marle gave him a stern look as she folded her wings. "A shabby little dive. Don’t assume that just because a place that is owned by P.I.T it will mean that it is a pit."

Brooklyn blinked. "I didn’t mean that. I-I just didn’t expect it to be this fancy."

"Don’t forget that a certain wealthy person has been buying my paintings," Angela said. "And the money that my paintings brought went to buy and decorate the Fried Saturn."

"I didn’t mean it like that at all," Brooklyn held up his hands and licked his beak. "I was expecting a decent looking place, a nice place with table cloths, and cloth napkins. I wasn’t expecting the type people would have to wait in a long line for. A place that has bouncers and red velvet ropes." Brooklyn stopped when he noticed that both females had entered the building. He folded his wings and ran through the balcony entrence, under the Gargoyles Are Welcome sign.

Entering the establishment he noticed how Marle was staring at the seating hostess with wide eyes and slack jaw. When he saw the young woman he nearly did a double take. It was Kimberly with a K. Her usually long sloppy styled wheat colored hair was tied back into a braid. She wore a neat little red shirt with buttoned up sleeves and a pale blue badge with her name on it.

"Welcome to the Fried Saturn," Kimberly smiled from ear to ear. "My name is Kimberly and it’s three for this evening?"

"That’s right," Since Angela was the only one who wasn’t shocked, she was the only one who did the talking. "But we’ll be meeting with a human friend."

"Follow me," she lead them down a short hallway to the stairs. "The other seating hosts and hostess’s didn’t want to stand by the balcony entrance. They thought I was crazy because I wanted to be the first one." She lead to them a round wooden table covered with a pale lavender linen table cloth. Brooklyn noticed a bulge on her thigh under her pants pocket

"Why did your co workers think that?" Angela asked. She was about to sit down, but Brooklyn pulled her chair out or her and waited for her to sit down before he pushed her in. He raced to the other side of the table held out Marle’s seat or her too.

"They thought gargoyles wouldn’t show up on opening night," Kimberly rolled her eyes. "but I’d knew you would all show up." She handed them each a glossy three way folding menu in the rich color of navy blue. On the cover was the restaurant’s name and logo with the same pastel colors for the planet, gold for it’s rings and red for the frying pan. "Your waitress will be with you shortly, but before I go can I ask you all a favor?" She reached into her pocket and pulled at whatever was causing the bulge. "Can I have a picture of you?" She finally wrenched out a small disposable Kodak camera.

"I guess so," Marle hunched her shoulders. "What do you guys think?"

Brooklyn paused from looking at his menu. "I don’t have a problem posing for the fans." He blinked when he felt a foot strike him in the shin playfully.

"You guys are wonderful," Kimberly held up the camera to her eye and stepped back to make sure she had everyone in the frame. After making sure she had wound the film all the way she turned on the flash and clicked the shutter.

Angela blinked from the flash. Bits of glowing red dots filled her vision. She was too busy rubbing the area between her eyes to hear Kimberly’s follow up question.

"Angela," Marle tapped her arm. "She wants to know our names."

"Oh," She removed her hands from her face. "My name is Angela." The lavender gargoyle had no idea what the following reaction would have been.

Thank goodness Kimberly had set the camera down on the table or it would have been on the ground. The second she heard Angela announce her name the note pad and pen that she was using to write down everyone’s names slipped from her fingers.

"Oh my," Kimberly’s voice was a high squeak. "Oh my God, oh my God!" Her eyes and smile took up most of her face, barely leaving any room for her nos. "No way!"

"Yes," Angela shifted uncomfortably. "Way. My name is Angela."

"Not the Angela. You are not the one who paints those beautiful gargoyle pictures are you?"

"Yes she is," Marle beamed at her friend.

"No one is going to believe this," the hostess’s hands were trembling. "Not on opening right, not on the first day of my job. Nobody is going to believe that I met Angela the artist." She reached into a different pocket and pulled out a black ink Sharpie. "Could you sign your name on the back of my shirt?" She handed the fat marker like pen to the stunned gargoyle.

"I guess," Angela accepted the pen. She removed the cap on the thicker end and wrote her name on Kimberly’s back. The second she lifted away the pen the human turned around.

"Oh my God! Thank you!" Kimberly wrapped her arms around Angela’s shoulders and squeezed. "You have no idea how this makes me feel."

"We could guess," Brooklyn’s whisper earned an extra kick from Marle.

"I’ll let your waitress know that you are ready," the human practically danced away from their table.

She was only gone for a few minutes before a young latina woman with dark blond hair and a navy blue shirt with the Fried Saturn logo on it with a brass like name badge aprroached their table. She rolled her eyes and smiled politely at the gargoyles. "I’m sorry about Kimberly."

"She didn’t bother us at all," Angela smiled. "It’s kind of fun to meet our fans."

"She said you were ready to order," the waitress pulled out her notepad and a pencil. "but she didn’t tell me if it was for drinks, or appetizers, or a whole meal."

"I doubt you have Dr. Pepper," Marle said staring at her menu. "So I’ll just have a Pepsi."

"We do have Dr. Pepper."

Marle’s eyes lit up. "Then I’ll have that."

"I’ll have a Pepsi," Brooklyn requested.

"Diet Pepsi," Angela finished. "Brooklyn and I want the shrimp talons and Marle wants the melon talons."

"Very good," The waitress took down their order. "I’ll be back with your drinks in a few minutes. My name is Rose." She clutched onto her note pad and walked away.

There were only three other tables with customers. The small group of people kept looking their way and smiled, causing Angela to feel at ease. It was nice to see a place that was friendly towards gargoyles.

Brooklyn only nodded briefly when both females pointed out the friendly humans. He was more interested in the menu. He didn’t know what to try. Everything looked delicious. He was debating between the P.I.T barbecue chicken and the Manhattan strip when he felt a poke in the arm. He ignored it and kept staring at the meal descriptions.

"Brooklyn," Angela hissed.

"I’ve seen the humans," Brooklyn mumbled.

"Not them," Marle pointed behind him. "Him."

Brooklyn turned around and barely recognized the tall young human in his early thirties. He seemed out of place in a pair of deep blue denim pants, crisp white shirt, and eggplant suit jacket with a folded dark overcoat hanging, on his arm. Brooklyn was used to seeing him in a faded gray sweatshirt and pants. His normally disheveled brown hair was neatly combed back and kept in place with hair gel, not sweat.

"Bobby?" Brooklyn slowly stood up. "Is that you?"

"Hi Brooklyn," The man addressed as Bobby gave an awkward smile. "It’s nice to see you here."

"I’m glad you can make it," Brooklyn indicated his table. "Please join us.

The human glanced at both Angela and Marle warily. "If you are sure. I wouldn’t want to be intruding."

"You are more than welcome to join us," Marle stood up and pulled out the fourth chair. She and was about to push his seat in when Bobby pulled himself in.

Angela could not keep her eyes off the newcomer. She knew she had seen him somewhere before, but she could not remember where. She sat up straighter when she caught his eyes. "I’m sorry, you just seem so familiar."

Bobby shrugged. "Well to tell you the truth I-" He was interrupted by a loud squeal.

"Oh my God!" Kimberly ran up to them with her arms stretched, swinging back and forth. Her eyes were widened to the near psychotic fan-girl as before. "I didn’t know you where friends with Angela."

Bobby shrank down in his chair. "Actually I’m with Brooklyn." He looked like he was trying to sink through the floor or whatever escape route that he could take to get away from the hostess.

"Oh," Kimberly’s smile faded a bit. "Here is your menu, and your waitress will be with you shortly." She walked away and nearly avoiding walking into Rose. Their waitress was carrying a serving tray with three glasses filled with ice cubes and cola.

"Let me apologize for her yet again." Rose closed her eyes and sighed. "I don’t know if you had a beverage selected yet."

"Iced tea," Bobby unfolded his menu.

"Would you like an appetizer?"

"Is anyone else having any appetizer?"

"We are all having the talons," Brooklyn tapped the edge of his talon on the menu item on Bobby’s menu.

"I love shrimp," Bobby said. "I think I’ll try that." He waited for Rose to leave before he set down his menu. "What were we talking about before?"

"You were about to explain why you seem familiar to us," Angela said before removing the paper covering from her straw and placing it in her glass.

"I love to jog. I usually jog around dusk, dawn and around noon on the weekends. The first time I notice gargoyles they were statues decorating my usually jogging path. I rarely came across live ones until I started to train for an AIDS run. I had people who signed up to donate a little money for every mile that I run. To make sure I’m in top shape I decided to do al little running at night, but not in Central park, because that is dangerous. I usually run a few blocks near my apartment. One night while I was running a gang decided to jump me. I didn’t know what they were going to do. I was so scared that I closed my eyes. The next thing that I saw was the gang getting beat up themselves by living gargoyles.

"This was shortly after they got blamed for blowing up the clock tour above the police building. I was of course scared, so I ran. A few nights later I was training again when I heard a woman’s scream. I ran towards the direction to see if I could offer some form of assistance. Two jerks were trying to force themselves on this woman. After I nearly gotten beat up I bought a cell phone and kept it with me whenever I jogged. I was dialing 9-1-1 when two more gargoyles arrived and they saved her. I was still scared."

"What changed your mind about us?" Angela asked.

"I really enjoyed the AIDS run and when another charity run was mentioned around the office where I work I signed up for it. Like with the AIDS run I ran around the few blocks at night, and was nearly mugged when the gargoyles rescued me again. Like before I was too frightened. I was ashamed to say that I have read a lot of Quarrymen propaganda."

"Over a year ago I was nearly hit by a car when a gargoyle glided down, picked me up, and carried me out of harms way. I never forgot his face. Months later I was at an office banquet that was attacked by a small group of terrorists. The gargoyles rescued me, my wife, my boss, and my fellow employees from them. I recognized the one that saved me from being hit by a car." He tapped Brooklyn’s hand. "We met up a few more times, well he saved me again, but this how we met."

"That is a neat story," Marle said.

"I wonder if gargoyles did charitable things would the public be more accepting of us?" Angela asked.

"As the only human here I say that some would," Bob hunched his shoulders. "But there would still be some jerks who will see you as monsters."

"We keep trying to spread the good word out," Rose had returned with a glass full of iced tea, garnished with a slice of lemon and four small bowls. "Most people are not as hateful as those hammer wielding jerks." She placed the glass in front of Bobby before setting down the bowls in front of everyone. "Most of them are indifferent."

"We are trying to correct that of course," Marle didn’t have to bite her tongue. Even though she was no longer human she still participated in P.I.T events during the day and the gargoyles were trying to spread the truth about them around.

"Are you ready to order, or do you need more time?" Rose asked once she had set the last bowl down. The shrimp talons were grilled tiger shrimps coated in a spicy light orange glaze. Their tails were curled out over the edge of the dish and a dipping sauce was in the center. Marle’s had slender wedges of cantaloupe and honey dew melon, coated in a sweet brown sugar glaze spread out in the same spread as the shrimp. Her dipping sauce was a type of sweet vanilla whipped yogurt.

"Ladies first," Bobby said.

"I want to try the Salmon Pandora," Angela said

Rose wrote her order down in her hand held notepad. "Would you like soup or salad?"

"I’ll have the soup. The clam chowder."

"What kind of vegetables are in the Titan pasta?" Marle asked. There were a few vegetarian dishes on the menu.

"Broccoli, mushrooms, red pepper and carrots."

"Sounds good."

"Would you also care for a soup or salad?"

"The Caesar salad does have any anchovies does it?"

"No it doesn’t"

Marle nodded. "I’ll have that."

"I’m in the mood for some chicken," Brooklyn said. "I’ll have the P.I.T barbecue chicken."

"Soup or salad?"

"I think I’ll try the volcano soup."

"I have to warn you that is pretty spicy."

Brooklyn smiled. "I can handle hot foods."

"I like Spicy foods too," Bobby smiled. "I want to try the jalapeno pepper steak and I’ll also have a Caesar salad."

"Okay." Rose slid the empty serving tray under her arm and walked off.

Brooklyn was silent for a few minutes before a mischievous smile spread across his face. "Bobby, or Bob, you like to jog for charity right?"

"Yeah," Bob squeezed his lemon slice over his glass

"And Angela wants gargoyles to do charitable things."

The lavender gargoyle picked up one of her shrimps and dunk it in the sauce. "What are you getting at?" She raised her brow ridges.

"I know of the perfect gargoyle who could jog for charity. His name is Broadway and all that exercise might do him some good." he cringed and sucked in his breath when he felt both Angela and Marle kick him in the shins at the same time.

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The aroma of peanut-butter wafted through the small apartment shared by Cookie and her room mate. There was nothing more cozy than homemade cookies baking in the oven and Cookie’s specialty was peanut-butter cookies. She did not become a good baker because of her name, but because of her job at Home Brew. It was almost a pity her room mate couldn’t be home that night.

She had placed the flat tray topped with golden cookies trimmed in tan on the top of her stove that was barely wider than her to cool when she heard glass being tapped. The sound came from the fire escape. Smiling, she removed her red apron stained with lour and peanut butter and ran towards the fire escape. Her smile grew wider when she saw who was outside.

The large pale bluish green gargoyle lowered his talons from the glass. His stomach bulged out forward and hung over the belt that held his loin cloth to his skin. He stepped back to allow Cookie to open the window to the metal landing. A rush of cold winter air flowed inside. "Hi Cookie," Broadway greeted with his large smile that spread from one large fan shaped ear to the other.

"Come on in," Cookie smiled back. "The cookies are cooling."

Broadway quickly stepped inside and closed the window behind him.. "Hmmm," Broadway closed his eyes and sniffed the air. "I love peanut-butter cookies."

"I love them too, but I prefer oatmeal raison."

"I like them too. Why didn’t you make them?"

"Not everyone likes oatmeal raison," Cookie shrugged. "I didn’t know if you did."

"Oh," he turned around to help her close the window. "What kind of movies are we watching tonight?"

"I’m in the mood for a good old horror flick. Both Fright Night one and two are on tonight."

Broadway stumbled into the small dinette set that had a broken leg supported by piece of cinder block. The plastic vase with the single fake rose fell over. "That’s a vampire movie right?" He picked up the vase and set it down right.

"My favorite horror movies involve the classic monsters like mummies, werewolves, vampires and Frankenstein’s monster. She noticed the nervous way Broadway was flicking his tail. "You know they aren’t real."

Broadway breathed deeply. "Vampires and werewolves exist. My clan had fought with them twice before."

"Broadway I’m sorry. I guess if you guys exist then anything is possible right?"

"Yeah."

"I’ll find another movie to watch."

"You don’t have to do that. I don’t have a problem with vampire movies, just actual vampires." He took a few steps toward the kitchen, making sure he didn’t bump into anything else. "My clan has also dealt with murderers, serial killers and psychos, and members of the Mafia and we still watch movies about them."

The plump woman nodded before she squeezed past Broadway and into the kitchen. She carefully touched the top of one of the cookies. "Still warm." Her voice was a murmur.

Broadway wanted to ask her something. He coughed a few times and folded his wings across his shoulders. "Uh, Cookie, would you like to hear something that I wrote?" He shuffled his feet. "I wrote a poem for Angela and I want to know what you think of it."

Cookie turned around and nearly bumped into his stomach. There was barely enough room for the two of them in there. "I would love to hear it." She stepped back closer to the small space between the sliver of a refrigerator and sink.

He reached inside his loincloth pocket and pulled out a small folded slip of paper. He unfolded it and stared at the wobbly messy words. He coughed a few times and took another deep breath.

Cookie’s eyebrows raised up and she pressed her lips together. After a minute she spoke. "That is a pretty good poem, can I offer a few suggestions?"

"That’s what friends are for."

"I think the last line on the first stanza should be changed to" Because of you Cupid’s arrow had struck my heart", and I think there should be a third stanza. Something that has a last line with just simply saying that you love Angela."

"Good idea, is there a pen?"

"There should be one next to the phone." She pointed at the small cordless phone sitting on top of a packing crate. Above it was a notepad with a metal clip that hung on a nail by the hole in the middle of the clip. Hanging by from the notepad was a cord secured to a pen with Velcro

Broadway took the pen and wrote a few words down. He mouthed a few sentences and went through the alphabet twice to find a suitable rhyme.

"There is still plenty of time before the movies starts," Cookie opened one of the cupboards beneath the counter and pulled out small white blender with a black rubbery top for the glass container. "While the cookies finish cooling I’m going to fix us some cool drinks."

"I don’t really like alcohol," Broadway didn’t look up from his poem.

"It’s not alcohol," Cookie smiled and reached for the half filled coffee pot. "You would think for what they charge at coffee shops for a simple cup of Java they would pay us better, but we can’t even afford the drinks that we make so we find cheap substitutes." She emptied the dark liquid into the blender. "We take some cold coffee," She went to the over head cupboard and pulled out a bowl of sugar before she opened the refrigerator and freezer and pulled out a container of milk with a light blue cap and a nearly full ice tray. "Add ice, milk and sugar." She dumped half the sugar bowl into the blender, followed by all the ice and some milk. "And blend." She snapped on the cap and pressed the very noticeable red button.

"That sounds good," Broadway replaced the pen. "I’m finished."

"So am I." She stopped the blender and pulled out two tall glasses. After filling them she took the blender container and washed it out before she refilled the ice tray and placed them back in the freezer. "I also think the cookies are done."

"Can I read you the last part of the poem that I had just added?" Broadway accepted the cool coffee drink that Cookie had handed to him.

"I’m eager to hear it."

"Okay," He held out the paper in front of his eyes.

She smiled and gave him a thumbs up. "That was a great ending." She glanced down at her watch. "The movie is about to start." She grabbed a plate and placed a few of the cookies on it. She grabbed her glass and took the plate into the living-room, followed by Broadway.

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Flat women’s shoes walked rapidly through paved walking paths of Central Park. Rosiara Sanchez clutched her almond brown binder closer to her chest as she continued throughout he park. She knew it wasn’t the best route to take, but she spent an extra hour in Professor Macduff’s office grading papers. Cutting through the middle of the park would get her home quicker.

The sound of fallen snow turned ice crumbles being crunched made her increase her speed. She didn’t want to pause to see who was walking through the snow covered ground around the trees. Her speed walking turned into a brisk jog when the crunching turned into feet striking the ice cold cement. Like her they were also running. She was about to pick up speed when another person appeared in front of her causing her to nearly slip on the walkway.

"Why are you trying to walk away, cutie pie?" The bald thug in front of her leered. "We are thinking you might not want to talk to us."

Rosiara heard the heavy breathing behind her and turned around. Two more punks were behind her, blocking off any route for escape. Clenching her fists, she turned around to glare at the guy who spoke to her.

"I don’t think she likes us," one of the punks behind her said. "That’s what I think."

"Yeah, she needs to learn hospitality," the third punk said.

"You guys are right," the bald punk nodded. "and I think I know how. She should pays us. That would make up for her being so rude to us."

Rosiara seethed as she slowly reached for her purse. She was going to have to go to the police to fill out a report about her mugging. She knew they were going to berate her for walking through the park, alone, at night.

___________________________________________________________________________

One good thing about the quarrymen armor was that it was insulated,or was it that the armor trapped the body heat that radiated from the human that was wearing? Roscoe didn’t know which was the correct one. All he knew was that he was outside, in a tree, in Central Park, in the middle of January, and he wasn’t freezing his butt off.

"Look at that," His partner pointed at the group of people on the ground a few yards ahead of them. To Roscoe it looked just like a group of young people talking. Nothing out of the ordinary, but his partner kept on pointing at them. "One of them has a knife. I think they are mugging her."

"Huh?" Roscoe stared at the group again with more intent. One of the two men standing behind the woman was holding a slender metal object. It could have been a knife. "You could be right." he grabbed a branch to steady himself as he lowered his body.

Roscoe didn’t look back to see if his partner was climbing down after him, not when an innocent woman was about to be attacked by a group of thugs. Castaway had told them that not only were they going to continue to fight the good fight, but if they come across a person who was in danger, weather it be a car accident, fire, or the criminal element they would stop in their hunt to save that person. Roscoe knew the main reason Castaway added the new task to their mission was to look good in the public eye.

Roscoe was about to strike his foot upon the paved pathways when he hear a loud deep and very familiar roar followed by a high pitched cougar like battle cry. The Quarryman shrunk back slightly, retreating into the shadows only to collide with his partner.

"Sorry," the other blue suited man grunted.

Roscoe shook his head. "Nevermind. Did you bring the guns?"

"I couldn’t bring them and climb out of the tree."

"They are still there?" Roscoe hissed in anger, trying not to shout. "Well go back to the tree and get them. Lower them to the ground before you climb down if you must, but hurry it up!" He glared at his partner before turning to watch.

___________________________________________________________________________

Rosiara gritted her teeth when she heard the snick of the switchblade sliding out from it’s sheath. Her hands tried not to tremble as she reached into her purse for her wallet. She was hoping they just wanted her money, but she had the feeling that they were after more.

"Hey," the voice of the bald headed leader made her freeze. "What are you doing? You are not going for your pepper spray are you?"

If it was one though and he didn’t have a gun she would have gone for her pepper spray. "My wallet." She made sure her voice did not betray her feelings.

"Hey boss," one of the punks that stood behind her spoke up. She didn’t know if he was the one with the knife. "I think she’s smart."

"She is pretty smart," Baldy said. "But I don’t want her wallet. I want her whole purse."

Her whole purse? Despite her fear, Rosiara gave him a quizzical look. "The money is only in the wallet, along with my credit cards. Do you also want my make-up, hair brush, pens, bottle of hand lotion and other crap I carry in here?"

"My, my, my," Baldy clucked. "You seem to be bit on the brass side for someone who has a knife aimed at her back."

Rosiara squeezed her eyes shut. She knew it was stupid to have objected. "I’m sorry." She slid the strap down from her shoulder. Her eyelids flew open when she heard the jungle cat like roar followed by the cry of a mountain lion.

Something red glided by her and landed on the ground. She was too busy staring at the creature in shock to have noticed that the thug with the knife had dropped it. The beast that she was staring at was bright red. His lean body had a thin leather membrane attached from his wrist to his ankles on each side with a long appendage right in the middle. His face might seem a bit comical if it wasn’t twisted up in a fierce snarl. Above his large fang bearing mouth was a small round nose with large nostrils. His small round eyes were lit up whiter than the light of the moon. His forehead extended into a triangular point that curved back over his head crowned with a shaggy mop of black tresses. The end of his long tail was wrapped around the leather covered handle of a dagger like knife.

After getting a good look at the beast both Ramona and the other two punks stared at the one who was in pain. He held on to his right arm. Blood trickled down from in between his fingers.

"Well just don’t stand there," the bald gang leader barked at his cohort. "Get that thing." His eyes widened even further when a second gargoyle landed on top of baldy’s other cohort and lifted him up by his shirt collar.

The second gargoyle was clearly female by the large bosom that was barely contained in her black leather sleeveless and colorless top. Her eyes glowed with crimson fury as she lifted the second punk into the air and slammed him down on the ground.

She had slightly dull gray skin and large greensih yellow wings with an orchid lining were spread out. Her golden wavy made flowed down to her shoulders. Her oval shaped face ended in a long and pointed chin and was topped with horns that pointed forward for a few inches and then curved back. Her tail that ended in a spade shape point thrashed widely.

Rosiara used the confusion as her advantage and slammed her purse into Baldy’s face and struck him in the knee with the business need of her shoe.

"You bitch!" The leader of the punk screamed and lunged for her. Rosiara quickly pulled her container of pepper spray out form her purse and pressed the button shooting a cloud of capacin mist into his face. The bald gangster reeled back from the moment of impact. He clawed the air while tears streamed down his cheeks.

The female gargoyle growled as she threw the punk she was fighting onto Baldy knocking both of them out. While the gray beast panted the glow dimmed form her eyes. "Mercutio," she spoke and turned to face the other gargoyle.

The male gargoyle waited for the thug he stabbed to pick up his knife and resume fighting. Despite his strange design of his wings the gargoyle was able to swing the knife well. Very well, in fact it looked more like he was fencing with the punk. The wounded man grumbled a small string of curse words before he threw the knife at the creature and lunged for him.

The gargoyle rolled under him and when he was right under the punk’s legs shot the knife that he held straight up. Right into the tender spot between the human’s legs. The high pitched squeal of pain the human emitted rose to the level of dog whistle. He doubled over and fell to the ground. The gargoyle called Mercutio did not take any chanced. He leaped into the air and angled his arms to deliver and strike into the side of his head with his elbow, knocking the punk out.

"Mercutio?" The female’s voice had shifted from worry to confusement. "Where did you learn that?"

The web winged gargoyle sheathed his knife. "You mean with my elbow? I’ve been watching wrestling with Hudson."

"That was pretty amazing," the female gasped and furrowed her brow ridge. "It had to have been from television I have never seen any of our rookery brothers perform such a move, not even Lancelot."

"You watch television?" Rosiara could believe she had spoken out old. Her hands flew to her mouth but the damage was done. They had heard her. Should she run and hope to get away? Even though her boss Professor Macduff had told her he felt gargoyles were good and noble creatures she was still unsure about them. Seeing the way their eyes lit up and the predatory animal sounds they made did nothing to settle her fear. They did stop snarling when the punks were knocked out and they did admit to watching television.

The gray gargoyle turned to face her and smiled. "I don’t really watch that much., not compared to him." she pointed at the male.

"Well how else can I learn about this world that we are living in now?" Mercutio said. "Television teaches me about it."

"Hudson has told us not to believe everything we see on TV."

"What about the news, and documentaries, shows on the Discovery, Learning, History channels and Animal Planet and whatever starts with ‘Based on a true story?’"

"Fine," the female gargoyle rolled her eyes. "There are something’s that are real, but Angela told me that wrestling is not real."

"Your friend Angela is right," Rosiara said. The conversation reminded her of the type of talk she would have with her own friends. "Wrestling is fake. It’s not a real sport at all. The winner was decided even before the wrestlers enter the ring."

"You see," the female gargoyle said

"I see that we are not seeing if this young human female that we had just saved is not hurt," Mercutio frowned and turned to Rosiara. "Are you hurt?"

"I’m not hurt at all," Rosiara said. "I’m just a little bit rattled." she bent down to pick up her binder.

The male gargoyle darted forward and snatched up the thick three ring folder. "My name is Mercutio my dear and this is my rookery sister Cecilia." He handed Rosiara her binder.

"My name is Rosiara Sanchez." She had only taken back her binder from his talons when a bright red bolt zipped between then, narrowly missing the gargoyle by a hair.

"Mercutio, Rosiara run!" Cecilia waited until the web-wing and Rosiara had run past her before she dropped to the ground and raced on all fours.

The three of them raced towards the nearest tree. Mercutio had leaped onto the trunk and quickly scrambled upward. "Grab onto my tail," Mercutio instructed. "I’ll get you up."

The TA didn’t have any other choice. She grabbed onto the supple tip of his tail and squeezed as hard as she could. His tail was warm and covered with what felt like tiny scales. She felt her body lift off the ground as the gargoyle climbed up the tree and used his tail to raise her. The human used her feet to brace herself and kept her feet against the bark.

Mercutio was half way up the tree when he pulled the human into the branched and she was able to hold on. The two of them watched as Cecilia quickly scrambled up the bark.

"Do you have a fear of heights or flying?" Cecilia asked while wrapping her arms around the humans waist.

"Not really," Rosiara responded with a slight idea of what was going to happen next. "I don’t really have much choice though do I?"

"I’m afraid not," Cecilia held on tight to the woman as she jumped out of the tree and spread her wings.

___________________________________________________________________________

The slightly younger quarryman raced up to the tree firing his lazer rifle at the gargoyles as they glided away. He did not see, nor sense Roscoe’s presence until the other man smacked him on the backside of his head.

"You idiot!" Roscoe yelled at him. "You could have hit the woman."

The second quarryman rubbed the back of his head and glared at Roscoe. "I wasn’t going to." His voice came out in a petulant whine of a brat.

"Well that woman probably thinks you are, and I’m sure those beasts had convinced her that they were protecting her." He lowered his arms and sighed. "We lost another one. Now those monsters had fooled another innocent victim into believing that gargoyles are decent creatures that protect humans."

"Where do we go now?"

"We might as well go back home." Roscoe turned to walk down the pathway.

"Shouldn’t we check on the meeting?"

Roscoe shrugged. "I guess."

___________________________________________________________________________

Art and Lois’s renovated restaurant was usually closed before midnight. The white sign hanging from the inside had the "sorry we’re closed" written in black lettering. The green binders were pulled shut and the place seemed lifeless.

All except for the dim light seeping through the edges of the windows and door. If a person would stand right next to the building they could hear shuffling sounds of chair scraped against the floors from inside. That person would also notice the sticker pressed to the glass right below the sign. A blue sticker with a golden hammer on top of three golden slash marks.

The tables inside Art and Lois’s were pushed to the sides of the restaurant. Two tables were pushed together near the front in a row on on side of the portable podium. The table was lined with a fresh out of the dryer white table cloth. Four members of the quarrymen sat at the long row. On the other side was another table lined with another cloth and topped with a coffee pot and plates full of small sandwiches, cheese on crackers, and brownies.

The chairs were pushed into rows in the middle of the building. People dressed in everyday outfits were seated in the chairs. Some brought their blue cloth hoods, and silver hammers with them.

One young man in his late teens kept his hammer underneath his chair. His hood was layed out in his lap as well as the young sixteen year old girl dressed in a tight mini skirt and a cleavage revealing tube top. Around her neck was a golden charm in the shape of a hammer on three slash like bars.

Serena stretched her body as she sat up. Her boy friend placed his muscular arms around her middle under her breasts. She placed her head against his shoulder and only half listened to the man behind the podium.

The man leading the meeting was not Castaway but a trusted member who was around when the quarrymen had formed for the first time. He was tall and built, but not fat. Most of his bulk was muscle and Castaway had a hard time finding armor for Buck’s body.

Buck shuffled the index cards with his large beefy hands while taking a pause to breathe. Castaway had lined out the key points of what he wanted Buck to say on the cards. The tall man bent down to pick up a glass of water from the long row next to his podium and took a sip before he spoke.

"I am proud to say that membership has gone up since we reformed," Buck smiled. He wore no hood. Castaway wanted him to not wear it. Those who lead the meetings never wore their hood. Castaway had mentioned that by showing his true face he would appear more warm and friendly and that will bring in new members.

Bucks round face ending in a square shaped chin was not the friendliest face of the group. His eyes were small and beady and when he smiled he showed his crooked teeth. "I’m sure that some of you who are attending tonight will be signing up and receiving your hammers and hoods." He brushed a few of his thinning red bangs back. "There are a lot of people that do support us, but don’t actually want to join. I understand. Some are too young, some are wrapped up in their careers and their families, and some feel they are not quite cut out to become quarrymen."

One of the members who sat at the long table stood up and handed Buck a small cardboard box. The speaker opened it up and pulled out a shiny golden pin. It’s looked like the symbol of the quarrymen but instead of a hammer on three slash marks it was a large letter Q on the slashes. Inside the Q was an S and a G. "These are the pins for the Quarrymen Support Group." He noticed a few hands rising in the crowd and he continued. "The Quarrymen Support Group is what it sounds like. It shows that you support the Quarrymen without actually having to join. When you sign up for the QSG you will receive this pin as well a small sticker of the original Quarry symbol like the one Mr. and Mrs. Komrauf have on their restaurant door. You can put it on the window of your car and show the world that you support our organization."

From her place in her boyfriend’s lap Serena smiled. "You know I’m going to sign up for that," she whispered in his ear, earning a gentle knee rub.

"What would your family think?" he asked.

"I don’t know about Maddy," Serena replied. "And daddy would worry about me but Candy would absolutely hate it." Her eyes lit up and her mouth twisted into a smug smile.

Buck took another sip of water before he fielded questions. He pointed at the person near in the second row. "What is your question?"

"It’s about those stickers that we place in our cars," the middle aged man said. "Isn’t that just inviting those monsters to attack us? Surely they would make us an easy target."

"Those beasts will attack anyone whether they have a sticker or not," Buck said before pointing at a woman in the middle.

"How much does it cost to sign up for the QSG?" She asked.

"Ten dollars."

"I have a question," a person behind Serena and her boyfriend stood up. "I understand that Castaway wants to give equal time to his most trusted members by letting them speak, but he is not even here. Where is he?"

Buck nodded and tried to keep smiling. "Our leader has a family now. He is pending tonight with them."

________________________________________________________________________

Light green gargoyle talons placed the wing like pieces of modeling compound to the crudely shaped gargoyle constructed out of the same material. Jon Canmore placed the clay gargoyles on the plastic tray of his son’s highchair and stepped back.

To his delight Colin growled at the clay figures and reached for them with his small hands. The child squeezed them and pulled off their hands befre he brought them to together and smacked his hands down onto them. After Colin pounded the last one into a pancake with his fists,Jon clapped.

"That’s m’ boy!" the end of the weregoyle’s tail wagged in delight. He continued to watch as his son picked up handfuls of the smashed compound.

"Don’t let him eat it!" Lorrie’s voice rain out a mere second before the red-haired woman raced into the dining room. With one swoop of her arm she wiped the clay off the high chair tray. "Honestly Jon," she gave her husband an annoyed look. "He’s too young for Playdough."

"He was na going t’ eat it," Jon briefly spread his wings before he refolded them across his chest. "And besides it says it’s non toxic." He noticed the way she just stared at him with her eyes narrowed. "I won’t use Playdough again. Not until he is of the age that is listed right here." He picked up the yellow container and tapped the side."

Lorrie took the container and placed the clay inside. "I know it’s important for him to learn how to be a hunter, but couldn’t you have used those tiny stuffed animals that come on key chains? You could attach wings and long tails."

"I cannae sew," Jon swung out the tray and picked Colin up.

"You can use a glue gun." Lorrie stared at both father and son. Colin did have a great resemblance to his father. He had Jon’s prince like nose and shape and size of his eyes. His hair was the same golden color as Jon’s own mane and he had the exact same wings as Jon did too. There were only a few features that were Lorrie’s such as the same curved chin and eye color. His other gargoyle features included his large pointed ears, his nails that were neither as thick or powerful as Jon’s claws, yet were sharper and longer than the average toddler’s. Whenever Colin opened his mouth his fangs could be seen.

"Let’s see if he can say it," Jon said softly. "Colin can you say There will always be a hunter?"

"Der will oh ways be a hunta," Colin gurgled.

Jon felt a proud warmth seep over his body. "I knew ye could." He gave his son a gently hug. "Now it’s time fer ye bath." He lifted up the plastic tray to his chair.

"When are you going to tell them?"

Jon picked up the giggling toddler. "Tell who?"

"Tell the Quarrymen. When are you going to tell them you are a weregoyle?"

He sighed. "Soon, I’ll not only tell them I’ll show them."

"Good, The sooner the truth comes out the better. Everything is in the bathroom except for some towels. I’ll get them."

___________________________________________________________________________

Colin was not the only baby to have a bath that night. Inside Castle Wyvern Elisa dipped a very soft wash cloth into a bowl full of warm water and scrubbed Rebecca’s arms. ‘Where was Goliath?’ The thought traveled through her mind. Why wasn’t he with her and the twins? She cleaned Rebecca’s chest and tummy. ‘Why couldn’t he stay home?’ She took the wash cloth to her daughter’s wings, thighs and bottom. ‘Hudson had said that gargoyles had to protect the castle but most for the clan had the night off, why couldn’t he?’

"Matt and Frank should also be home," Elisa said out loud while she dried Rebecca. "I’m surprised Jam and Demona allow them to be out tonight, especially Demona." She rubbed on baby oil, lotion, and powder onto the infant’s skin before she placed her diaper back on and set her down in the bassinet. "Rowan it’s your turn."

The second she removed her son’s diaper and picked him up a tiny stream shot out and sprayed her chest. Elisa stared down at the warm wet stain on her blouse and sighed. "Where is your father?"

___________________________________________________________________________

Frank was barely gliding straight as he followed Goliath and Bronx back to Wyvern. He was dead tired. The second they returned home he was going to crawl into bed and go to sleep.

Sleep was going to have to wait though. The second Goliath set Bronx down on the soft snow covered ground of Wyvern’s courtyard a feminine screech reached their ears. Both gargoyles turned to the entrance to see Jam slowly walk towards them. In her arms, wearing a dark green baby jacket with a hood and wrapped up in a thick blanket, was Macy.

"Francis Kowalsky," Jam’s heavily made up eyes were narrowed. Her voice did not shout, but was low enough to be threatening. "You have been patrolling all week. I need you, your daughter needs you, we need you."

Frank licked his beak and blinked. "Now honey, you know I’m following Goliath’s orders."

Her face did not change. "Oh yes, Goliath. Elisa is waiting for you inside." She placed Macy into her fathers arms and turned around to storm back inside.

The weregoyle stared down at his daughter. The hood was drawn tightly around Macy’s face. He could only see her aqua colored eyes. She reminded him of Kenny from South Park Gargoyles could stand up better to the cold, but Macy was mostly human. "We better go in." Frank folded his wings.

Goliath followed the beaked gargoyle inside the castle and nearly blinked himself. Elisa was there with their daughter in her arms. Next to her stood Jam, and Owen, holding Rowan. She placed Rebecca into Goliath’s arms before taking her son from Owen. "You know I could really use your help with them."

Goliath raised a hand. "Elisa I-" she didn’t let him finish.

"You can explain?" Her eyes rolled before she narrowed them again. "Oh I know you have to protect your castle from crime. You keep forgetting that you have two infants now?"

"Oh great dragon," Goliath mumbled and rubbed his face. "Back in the tenth century many members of the clan including the biological parents of the rookery went out on patrols." Goliath tried to maintain his composure.

"News flash, Goliath, this isn’t the tenth century."

Bronx kept staring back and forth at Elisa and Goliath. After hearing all he wanted to hear he slinked away towards Owen.

"I believe that would be a good idea," Owen whispered as he and the gargoyle beast left the area.

"My city needs my protection," Goliath explained. "Because of Friendship Night there are not as many to patrol."

"You don’t have to patrol every night!" Elisa regretted shouting as soon as Rowan started crying. "Oh Ro-Ro, I’m sorry." Her voice shifted to a soft cooing.

"My love, I am sorry," Goliath cradled their daughter. "But this was how everything was done. After a rookery has hatched a few gargoyles stay behind to watch over the hatchlings and the rest of the clan would go out to protect the castle."

"The only gargoyle that stayed behind was Demona," Elisa glared at her husband.

"Are you asking me not to patrol?"

"I’m asking to help raise our children. They need their father to be around."

"I just had an idea," Frank spoke up. Luckily for him Jam did not give him the same verbal onslaught that Elisa gave Goliath. Her glares did send icles tickling down his spine. "You know how the women have a Mother Child night? What if we men had a Father Child night?" All three of them turned to look at him. "Those without children can go out and patrol while we men can talk about being father’s, bond with our children and the mothers could have a relaxing night to themselves."

Jam did not answer him. She just walked right up and stared at him for a few minutes before she planted a kiss on the side of his face. "It’s Macy’s bed time," she said softly.

Goliath turned to the emerald green gargoyle and smiled. "That is a good idea. We should discuss it with everyone when they have returned. Elisa lets take the twins back to your room."

Frank was left alone with Macy. He stared down at her sweet hidden face. "I wonder how she wrapped your wings under all that. Oh well it’s time for bed."

_________________________________________________________________________

Hudson’s wings dropped slightly, shifting against the cold winds that were trying to carry him higher. He wanted to land on the castle before dawn. Robbins promised him that he could spend the day at his place whenever he needed to but Hudson wanted to find out how the first Friendship night went.

Nearing the castle he saw the clan gathering around on the tallest tower ready to sleep for the day. He slightly folded his wings all the way to glide to the top of the tower. His large toes curled into the stone, anchoring him to the floor while he folded his wings all the way across his shoulders.

Surprisingly it was Brooklyn not Goliath who greeted him first. "Hey Hudson, how is Robbins doing?" Marle was leaning against his chest. The rest of the gargoyles were gathered around, talking about their first Friendship night.

"He is doing well," Hudson set down the leather satchel. "How did Friendship night go fer the rest of ye?"

"The food at the Fried Saturn is delicious," Brooklyn said while giving his mate an affectionate squeeze. "And my friend Bob signed up with P.I.T."

Angela nodded in agreement. "It was nice to visit the P.I.T. restaurant, but meeting someone who claims to be a fan of your own work is flattering if not a little scary." She took Broadway’s hand. "They do have a lot of menu items, but I think you should submit some of your own recipes."

Broadway pointed at his own chest. "Me?"

"Yeah your a wizard in the kitchen," Brooklyn nodded. "The food their is great, but they could benefit from some of your own recipes."

"If you insist," Broadway shrugged.

"How was your evening with Cookie?" Angela asked her mate.

"We watched a couple of movies and had some of her home made baked goods and coffee drinks." He stepped onto the battlement with her. The two of them spread their wings and glided over to the tower cloesest to the one the rest of the clan plan on sleeping on.

"We sort of did the same thing at the Chavez home," Rayne spoke up before rubbing her elbow against Lexington’s back. "What about you?"

Lexington blinked. "When it comes to Ultimate Champion those college guys are nuts, but it was fun."

Rayne smiled. "Just as I thought." She glided to the lower level, followed by Lexington.

"What a night," Mercutio stretched his arms and the top half of his wings. "Cecilia and I stopped a purse snatcher, a car jacking and a woman named Rosiaraa from being mugged in the park."

Goliath raised a brow ridge. "You know her name?"

"We introduced ourselves," Cecilia shrugged. "We started talking when we were fired at by some random humans."

"Probably Quarrymen," Brooklyn grumbled.

"They could have been," Cecilia agreed. "Mercutio and I made sure we glided her to safety and we learned a few more fact about her. She’s in her senior year at Columbia University and she works as a teaching assistant for a professor Mcduff."

"It sounds like she knows Macbeth," Hudson rubbed his beard.

"The sun is about to rise," Goliath mentioned before taking his place on the battlement of the clan leader.

Cecilia and Mercutio glided down to join with Lexington, Rayne and Bronx. Brooklyn leaped on one side of Goliath and Hudson sat down next to Goliath’s left.

"Sleep well my love," Marle’s word’s left her lips as the sun rose above the horizon, sealing the clan into their stone slumber. Marle groaned as she felt her wings force through her skin in her back, the bones in her feet flattened. Her skin color and texture shifted to a smooth pale peach. Marle held onto her sides as she felt the change from within. Finally it was over. She stood up, still feeling the aftershocks of the transformation pain burning through her body.

She walked up to the stone form of her mate. As usual he chose a fearsome pose when he slept. She bent down and kissed his beak. Stepping back she stared at Goliath and Hudson. The leather satchel the elderly gargoyle was carrying with him was stone as well. Instead of a snarl his mouth was twisted up into a smile.

__________________________________________________________________________

The early morning light pierced into Central park. What little warmth the sun could provide melted the compacted remains of snow into further amounts of slush.

Roscoe stepped into a puddle of melted snow and dirt, not caring if the cold mud was going to ruin his boots or not. He had a horrible night. First with allowing two of the beasts to rescue a woman so that she would believe they were noble and true, then the verbal chewing out by Buck when they stopped by Art and Lois’s and spending the rest of the frigid night in the park. They were ordered to return to the park and stay there until dawn.

"I’m so tired," Roscoe’s partner whined. "and my muscles hurt. When I get home I’m going to soak in the nice warm bath and then go to bed for a week."

"That sound’s like a good idea," Roscoe agreed. "But first I’m going to need a nice warm cup of coffee."

"Heeeeelp!" The scream belonged to a woman and came from the right.

"We’ll get that coffee later," Roscoe ran off towards the direction of the scream.

They found a dark figured sandwiched between a tree and a park bench. A trembling man with his pants around his ankles was lowering himself to something wriggling. An arm shot up and tried to hit him. The arm of a woman.

Roscoe twisted the handle of his silver hammer, making it hum with it’s electrical power. He raced up toward the figure. It was a young pasty faced punk wearing a trenchcoat. The asshole was too busy focused on the woman beneath him to notice Roscoe. The Quarryman struck the would be rapist on the back, sending a surge through his body.

"Graaaack!" The rapist rolled over off the frightened crying woman. Rubbing his back he looked up at the two quarryman. "I only thought you went after those monsters."

"Anyone who rapes a woman is a monster," Roscoe seethed. His partner twisted on his own hammer. "Now get the hell out of here, or we’ll take care of you."

The rapist’s eyes widened to the size of golfballs when he saw the second hammer. His hand held onto his belt as he tried to stand up. When the second Quarryman stepped forward the rapist ran off, fastening his belt as he stumbled forward.

"Should we go after him?" The quarry man asked.

Roscoe shook his head. "We have to make sure this woman gets to the nearest police precinct."

He turned to where the woman was and blinked. It wasn’t a woman, she couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen. Her pants were in a crumpled up pile next to her legs and shoes. Her blouse was torn open.

"Hurry and put your pants and shoes back on," Roscoe adverted his eyes. He reached into his pocket and handed her a few of the QSG pins. "Uses these to keep your blouse closed."

The teenager warily reached for the pins while keeping her shirt closed. She set the pins down next to her and pulled on her pants. "Why are you helping me?"

"We care," Roscoe said, still staring at the opposite direction. "He didn’t do anything did he?"

"You guys came in the nick of time. He was about to remove my underwear." She zipped up her jeans and opened up one of the pins. After she had fastened both to her shirt she tied on her shoes. "You can look now." she reache over for her discarded coat

Roscoe and his partner turned to see the girl trying to get to her feet. "Here." He held out his hand to help her up. She accepted it. He pulled her up and wrapped her coat his arms around her. "We are going to get you to a safe place, but fist how about a cup of coffee?"

Her pale thin lips pulled up into a smile. "I’d like that."

Roscoe smiled himself. They might have lost the other woman, but they have gained another to their side.

The End