The transformation from gargoyle to human was a burning pain the weregoyles had grown into. It wasn’t something they could ignore, but the bone crushing feeling of their wings being forced back into their shoulder blades, fingers splitting and the arches of their feet being crushed was not as jarring as the first few months of their new life styles. Charlie stopped crying, only tiny tears trickled out of the corners of his eyes and they stopped once the transformation was complete. The only ones who continued to cry minutes after their transformations were complete were the newest additions to the clan.

Marle Duchamp paused outside Jerry and Gloria’s room, listening to the painful wailing of Deidre. She could hear Holly crying from Demona and Matt’s room even though she had returned to her human state. The newborns will be with their parents for a few more months before they will be moved to the already crowded nursery. By then Macy would have turned three and have her own bedroom.

"My child won’t have to worry about the pain," the slender whispered to herself as she continued to wards the rookery. She was still wearing the pale pink blouse with the low cut to show she had some cleavage, and cut off shorts she wore when she was a gargoyle. The shorts clung to her small bottom she wished was just the slightist bit curvier. "He, or she won’t turn from human to gargoyle, like Macy." Her child would be the opposite of Macy though. Instead of a child who was mostly human with a few gargoyle features her’s would be mostly gargoyle with a few human features.

She gently pushed the door open to the rookery and stepped lightly through the mixture of straw, cotton and feathers. Once a month the females would enter and turn their eggs over.

"Good morning, Little Blue." She approached her egg surrounded in it’s own neat square under her initials. She never really had to carve them the night the eggs were layed. Her light blue egg was easily distinguished amongst the rows of grayish purple. "I won’t really be able to greet you in the morning after you hatch. You’ll probably turn to stone." She sat down in front of it and brushed her fingers over the smooth shell. Like the other eggs it was completely spotless when she layed it, but markings had appeared since then. There were only two and only slightly darker than the shell, but it had spots while the others were still flawless.

"You are going to hatch before the others, aren’t you?" She had been told the eggs of a gargoyle "spot" as they age and the more dark spots an egg had the closer to hatching it was. Marle wondered if she should be thinking of names for the child. She should make a list for both male and female names. She would also have to make sleeping arrangements for it. Most likely it would turn to stone in the nursery. Her child would have plenty of playmates. Although she would be ahead of the rookery and much younger than the rest of the children and would age at half their rate, unless that spell Demona cast allowing her to age at the gargoyle rate and the children of the weregoyles to age normally until their eighteenth year affected her egg. She would have to ask Demona about it, but that would have to wait.

___________________________________________________________________________

Marle entered her room and quickly raced to her desk. She was going to call her mother and make reservations for Cassio’s for lunch. She was going to tell her mother about her egg since she hadn’t told her about it yet.

"First dad," she reached for her stationary set. She hadn’t seen him in person since September 2001. He flew in on the first available flight from Philadelphia to see if she was all right, and before that she met with him in 1999 to show him her change in life. He was shocked at first, but told her she was still beautiful and he would love her no matter what. At least he was more tolerant than her mother.

"It seems we only meet every other year," she chuckled as she removed the cap form the pen. They kept in touch through the phone, the Internet and the mail.

Dear dad. I know you may not believe me, but you are going to be a grandfather. I don’t know exactly when my child will hatch though. Put down the cigar dad before it falls from your mouth. I laid an egg. My mate is a pure blooded gargoyle and while their eggs take ten years and weregoyle eggs take three months I don’t know when my egg will hatch. I should have either called or wrote to you when I was still carrying the egg, and I’m sorry. I know telling you I did not have enough time would not cut the mustard with you. I hope you can be accepting of having a grandchild who will be mostly gargoyle and I hope to hear from you soon.

Love Marle

__________________________________________________________________________

Fox Xanatos knew she was not going to be alone at the kitchen table. She Didn‘t need to tap into her fae blood to know there would at least be someone either sitting at the dining room table or in the kitchen. The area was never empty of any sentient life. There was only one time since Othello and Desdemona became resurected when she was alone in the dininging room and that moment lasted exactly five minutes.

She had awakened shortly after an intense dream with a forehead slick with sweat and felt short of breath. The halfling didn’t want to wake up her husband and carefuly slid out of bed before slipping into a light purple nightgown to cover her white satin bra and panties. She needed to talk with Owen, but Fox did not wish to wake up so shortly after dawn.

"You are up early," Jerry Shumaker was the only other person at the table. From his appearance Fox could tell he had just awaken. His blue flanel bath robe hung loosely from his shoulders and did not ppear if it ws sinched or not. His sandy blond hair was disheveled from recently growing back during his transformation. He also had growth on his face, appearing gray from right under his nose down to his chin and his jawline. Dull green eyes were surrounded by pink.

"I had a dream," Fox answered as she placed the two boxes she was carrying down next to him. The larger box was a small 200 piece puzzle of a a tall rainfall pouring into a crystal clear pool, surrounded by bright purple flowers. The smaller jewlery box was covered with a thin coat of crushed, red velvet and was slid off the puzzle and onto the glossy table top.

Jerry stared at the two boxes, but did not make an expression with his weary eyes. "These had something to do with your dream?" He took a long drink from the coffe cup he clutched with a death grip.

"They are part of the dream." She approached the oppoiste ned of the hall and turned to the table between the cabinet conatining the expensive crystal, pure silverware, and china dishes used for the holidays and the storage cabinets that contanied the rolls of paper towels, stacks of napkins made from both paper and cloth, dish towels, bibs, stacks and a few shelves full of nothing but school supplies: loosleaf and construction paper, pencils crayons and other children’s art supplies. All three pieces of furniture were made out of the same wood as the dining roomtable and chairs.

The credenza’s double doors were locked with a heavy padlock for a very good reason. They were filled with shot glasses and small tumblers to go with the bottles of scotch, brandy, bourbon, vodka, gin, cherry, rum ammaretto and tripple sec. Fox was not intrested in those bottles. She wanted one of the cheap bottles of wine, stored in a lattice like wooden rack on top of the credenza. They were used for cooking. The more expensive wine and liquors were stored in another room.

Fox placed the green bottle she selected and placed it next to the boxes. "I just need a bronze statue." She swept the curved flip of her strawberry blond hair, higher up her forehead. It stayed there for only a second before it fell to the top of her fox tattoo over he eye.

"Bronze statue?" The question was not asked by Jerry, but by the tall and slim man entering the kitchen. His light blond hair was styled into a short haircut, still damp from the shower he took shortly after he woke up. He as only halfdressed in his work clothes. He had slipped into his slacks along with his socks and shoes and buttoned up a white dress shirt, but he was missing a buisness jacket and tie.

"Morning Owen," Fox greeted as she slipped into a chair. "I think I had another prophesy dream."

"You think?" Owen retrieved the empty cup from Jerry as he studied the objects set before Fox. "You believe your dream may have something to do with these objects."

Fox traced the length of the bottle with her finger as she pulled the jigsaw puzzle closer towards her. "In a certain pattern. First there was a statue and then a framed puzzl. Althought it was more of a mosiac than a jigsaw," she pulled the bottle close to the box and placed the jewelry box behind the bottle. "then there was the bottle and finaly a dirty jewel."

"Dirty?" Jerry yawned the question.

"It was encrusted with grime."

"Sorry," the weregoyle mumbled as he slipped out of his chair and stood up. He popped hhis knuckles and turned his neck, creating more of the same popping sounds. "I should take a shower right now. That will wake me up. If not then a second cup and some brekfast."

Owen waited a full minuted before he turned toward him, his attention was focused primarily on what Fox had told him. "Is there anything in particular you would like?"

Jerry pulled the edges of his robe closer over his body while sinching the cloth belt around his middle. "Anything to go." He fumbled with the not as he made his way out of the dining hall.

Fox never removed her gaze from Owen. The second she had described the order of the objects his eyes flickered from his usual blue to a shade that was more intense, eyes of a being who possesed great power. "Do you know?"

"They are the prisons of four of those who tried to fight against Oberon. Each one caused suffering and pain to the mortals of the land where their stories are known. Oberon crafted four different prisons, each one fitting together."

"These four are members of the third race?" Fox asked as she placed her face into her hands.

Three of them are. One is an immortal sorceror."

"That does not make it any better," Fox narrowed her eyes.

"You have nothing to worry about," Owen smield weakly. "Only one of Oberon’s children can release them." Owen waited until she smiled back before he took Jerry’s cup into the kitchen. He did not want Fox to see the worried expression on his face.

_________________________________________________________________________

Seneca Sevarius trudged from the library to her dorm under the weight of several books. She had loaded up her backpack with books for both her and her room mate. Seneca’s poor backpack could barely contain them, the flat backs of the books pressed against the canvas material and the sharp corners threatend to poke through. She couldn’t even zip it completly shut, but was able to seal the flap over with the velcro tab.

Seneca was able to lift it onto her back without her knees buckling under from the weight. She shoved her arms through the straps and picked up the two sealed cups of coffee drinks from the campus Barnes and Nobles

She shouldn’t have to do errands for her room mate. If she needed to get books from the library she could have gone herself. Seneca would have given Gina the finger about it but since she was heading towards the library herself she agreed.

"She better be greateful," Seneca mumbled as she shifted the cups so she could open the door. If the overwhelming weight against her spine was not good enough for her then the addition of the cappucino should be.

"Got my books?" Gina asked as soon as Seneca entered their room. The young woman was five years older than her and acted twice as immarture. She kept her light brown hair cut short, so she didn’t have to worry about it getting in the way and wore three large studs of clear plastic in each ear, and a large hoop was threaded through the top of her right. Her blue rimmed glasses were placed on the top of her head.

Gina was seated at her wire tower. A Frankenstein’s monster of a work station, consisting of two different Macintoshes, an Imac, two printers, two scanners, four mice, two cameras and four sets of speakers.

"I have your books in my bag," Seneca slouched forward, ignoring the pain from the heavy backpack weighing on her shoulders. "I also got you a hazelnut cappuccino." She held onto two cups of coffees. Her right hand was warm from the cappuccino while her left was freezing from her caramel frappucino

"Cool," Gina rolled her chair across the floor and snatched the cup from her hand. "just put the stuff on the floor."

"Oh I will," Seneca searched for an empty place on Gina’s table and pushed back a folder and a copy of Wired to make room for the coffee. She allowed the backpack to drop from her shoulders, letting it land on the floor with a loud thud.. She deposited all the books onto the floor in a huge pile before replacing the two books she checked out for herself. "I’m going to be studying."

"Before you put on your headphones I want to let you know your father called." Gina took a short sip from her cup as she rolled back to her work station.

"He did?" Seneca asked as she fell onto her bed and tossed her back pack into the chair in front of her desk. The only computer that occupied her desktop was a laptop.

"I told him you will call him back."

"Thank you," Seneca took a long drink through the straw of her iced coffee before she set it down next to her lap top. She didn’t mind if her father called . A simple conversation was not going to gobble up her time. She hung the straps of her backpack on the back of the chair before she sat down. The teenager quickly dialed the number to her father’s home wondering if he was still there or if he had returned to Prometheotech’s lab.

"Hello?" Her father sounded weak and groggy on the other end. She wondered if he had been napping. "May I ask who’s speaking?"

"Hello father," Seneca took a sip through her straw.

"Seneca?" Anton’s voice sounded more than alert. "I’ve been trying to reach you for hours."

"I have been in class and at the library."

"You are taking summer classes again?"

"I’ve been taking two every summer. Take five during each semester and two during the summer. Three hours per class and by this August I will have all 120 hours."

"That does not sound healthy. You have to study and do schoolwork and take some time off for yourself. At least tell me you weren’t lying when you said you have been eating and sleeping well."

"I haven’t been lying and you didn’t quite hear me," She paused to take another sip form her cup. "I said I will have all the 120 hours I need. I’m going to be graduating soon."

The other end was silent for a couple of minutes. Seneca did not worry. She new it would take her father a few minutes to get over the shock caused by the good news.

"Graduating? That’s wonderful. Are you going to continue schooling?"

"Of course. I’m going to medical school and I’m going to be scientist, just like you."

"I fell exceptionally proud of you my dear. I do hope we will be able to see each other in the meantime."

Seneca was silent for a minute. Spend time together? He was her father of course but taking time out from doing schoolwork and studying was going to hurt her. When she visited Thailog’s clan before they launched their attack her grades suffered. She received the first B- in her life. "Sure we can. How about we meet in Avalon New Jersey in a couple of weeks? I heard there is a great bed and breakfast there."

"Bed and breakfast? I’m not really into those places All that lace and doilies, but if you insist.

"Daddy, have you even looked at the calendar? Father’s day is in two weeks."

"Father’s day?" She heard him scuffling about, trying to locate the nearest calendar. "Ah yes can’t believe that had slipped my mind. I do believe I may be getting forgetful in my old age."

"Don’t worry I will make everything better." She spoke her goodbye and let the phone back into it’s cradle. She had to find the number of the bed and breakfast before she became bogged down into her studies again.

___________________________________________________________________________

"I’m sorry about having to wait four days to do this," Marle apologized to her mother while they studied their menus. The earliest day she could get a lunch with her mother was at one in the afternoon, four days after she made the reservation.

Clarice Duchamp didn’t seem to mind to wait. Her dark green eyes were glued onto her menu. Her dusky red, shoulder length, hair was styled into a neat bun. She had almost the same features as her daughter, round eyes, mouth framed by thin lips and jawline curving down and ending in a sharp point. Her fingertips brushed down over the items. "I would expect a long wait for a place like this."

Marle smiled sheepishly. Cassios’ was the fanciest place she knew. The food was rich and delicious and the waiters were courtious. "I think it was worth the wait."

"It is classy. Where did you hear of this?" Her eyes briefly left the menu, staring her daughter in the eyes, before they returned to the lunch items.

"Several friends recommended it. Fox Xanatos and Margot Yale have all their lunches and brunches here."

"I would expect the upper crust to eat here," Mrs. Duchamp read the meals of the two cheapest items in the lunch listing. "Even people like them."

"What does that supposed to mean?"

"Fox Xanatos may be married to one of the most wealthiest men in the city, but considering their pasts and she is willing to allow those beasts to live in that castle with her son-"

"I happen to turn into one of those beasts at night," Marle frowned. She had wondered if it was a mistake to have lunch with her mother. "Or did you forget?"

"I did not forget, as much as I want to try I can’t."

"Why does it bother you that I’m a weregoyle?"

"Shhhh," Clarice hissed as she glanced around, trying to see if anyone had heard what she said. "Please Marle, try to keep you voice down. You don’t want everyone to hear."

"Why? There are more supporters than you know it."

"More people are falling for their lies and the lies of P.I.T."

"Is that why you dislike the D.A?" Marle stared down at the sugar packet she was twisting in her hand. She had forgotten she was holding it. "Because she is no longer a quarryman supporter?"

Clarice shook her head, not in disagreement,but out of pity for Yale."I can’t believe a smart woman like herself fell for their lies."

Marle was ready to ask about the lies, but bit back onto her words as the waiter placed her iced tea and her mother’s diet soda on the table. "Thank you." She breathed, hoping her anger towards her mother hadn’t impeded on her manners.

"Your welcome," their waiter, a rosy checked man in his early thirties, smiled at them. "Are you ready to order?"

"Yes I am," Marle felt her spirits picking up. "I’ll have the veggie pasta."

"And I’ll have the seafood cocktail salad," Clarice ordered. She closed her menu and handed it to the waiter.

"Excellent choices," the waiter nodded as he copied down their orders.

"You are going to love that salad. They put in shrimp, scallops and real crab meat." Marle said as soon as their waiter had left.

"I thought you were still a vegetarian," she lowered her brows slightly. "Unless you are eating seafood now."

"No, I know you haven’t had a salad like it. I know you are used to deli style salads with the imitation crab meat." She tore open the sugar packet in her hands and sprinkled the contents into her glass.

"I have read the ingredients. I also have read the prices. You can’t possibly afford this place."

"My fashions are about to go on the runway," Marle explained. "And Fox gave me plenty of money."

"Don’t you feel guilty about borrowing someone else’s money?"

"This money was given to me as a gift, or don’t you believe in gifts anymore?"

"I believe in gifts, but I don’t consider money to be a gift."

"Not even in a card for your godson on his birthday?" She reached for her linen napkin and slid it out of it’s ring.

"That’s different."

"How is it different?"

"I don’t want to get into it. We are here to talk and catch up."

"We came to talk," Marle nodded in agreement, hoping her mother would try to be somewhat civil. "What would you like to talk about?"

"I would like to know more about your fashions. Are we talking about bright colors, patterns, stripes?"

"I heard the big color’s this fall are going to be silver and eggplant and the big fashion pattern will be plaid."

"Does that mean it will be cool for me to wear my blue and green plaid skirt?" Clarice smiled for the first time since they sat down.

Marle’s voice relaxed as she talked about fashion. It was a nice change of pace for them to discuss in something she was interested in. "Yes mom, it will. It won’t just be skirts. It will also be dresses, shorts, shoes, hats, bags, jackets and sweaters."

"You did tell me you were going to reinvent the little black dress," she chuckled as the waiter approached them with their plates. Her eyes widened at the salad that was placed in front of her. She wasn’t expecting the size of the pieces. The scallops were the size of quarters, the chunks of crab were the size of her thumb and the shrimp were cocktail sized. The vegetables impressed her too. The rich dark green romain leaves contrasted with bright cherry tomatoes. There were leaves of purple cabbage mixed in along with slices of radishes, orange bell pepper, marinated mushrooms, black and green olives, and chunks pf pineapple. The meal was topped with fetta cheese and vinaigrette and served with a roll. "Now this is a salad."

"I told you you’d like it," Marle said while entwining some of her pasta on her fork. Her plate contained angel hair pasta cooked al dente and served with a mixture of snow pea pods, mushrooms, carrots, red bell peppers and zucchini. All of the vegtables were steamed and the bowl was topped with an alfredo sauce.

"At least you are eating dairy," Mrs. Duchamp pointed her fork at her daughter’s plate. "You are not like those militant vegetarian activists."

"You mean PETA?" Marle asked after she swallowed her first bite. "I am not a big fan of theirs. My choice of not eating meat is exactly that, my choice. I do not force others to eat like me. They also would find me unacceptable because I still eat eggs and diary, still enjoy honey and I still wear wool and silk."

"At least you have some common sense," Clarice said before taking another bite of her lunch.

Marle decided to let it slide and waited a few more minutes to continue the conversation. she didn’t want to rush into the big announcement, not just yet. "Do you have any interesting stories from work?"

"We still haven’t discovered who put the squid in the water cooler yet," Clarice answered after swallowing her first bite. She had to close her eyes for a second. The food was as delicious as it was beautiful "I still think its that assistant manager from marketing."

"Was this supposed to be a joke?" Marle tried her hardest to keep from chuckling. Her stifled laughter caused her to cough and had to take a sip of her iced tea.

"I think it was. It wasn’t a real squid, just some sort of rubber toy."

"Why the hell would anyone put a rubber squid into a water cooler?"

Clarice shrugged. "Apparently someone thought they were funny and thought a rubber squid in the water cooler would have been equally funny."

"I’m pretty sure that caused a reaction."

Her mother chuckled while spearing a piece of pineapple and shrimp with her fork. "Patty Shalet was the first one to see it and with her lungs I’m surprised the monitors haven’t cracked from her screams. Alberto Ramierz wanted to check security cameras to see who had done it and our office hypochondriac, Sally Kwan, refused to drink anything from the cooler until we replaced the jug and scrubbed the rest out."

"Sally Kwan," Marle tapped her fork against her plate. "Is this the same germ-a-phobe who keeps a canister of Lysol on her desk?"

"That’s the same one. That has been the only thing interesting to happen to us in a while." She chewed on her bottom lip while rolling around one of her tomatoes. "Unless you count Keith Jensen getting his hand stuck in the toilet."

Marle raised her eyebrows in disbelief "How do you get your hand stuck in the toilet?"

"This was Keith Jensen."

"Still as clumsy as ever."

"Exactly. I’d ask you of any stories, but I’m not interested in what goes on in that castle."

The laughter quickly left Marle as her voice took on a serious tone."That is my home."

"Forced to live there."

Marle felt her self twisting her napkin again. "I chose to live there."

"You feel you have to live there because of what they had done to you."

"Where should I live mother? Should it be with you? Would you lock me in my room at night so no one would see me as a monster?"

"You are not a monster." Again Clarice’s eyes wandered across the room.

"According to people like you I am."

"Castaway is a weregoyle and I don’t see him as monster," She tore the remaining part of her roll into two small pieces. "I don’t see your kind as monsters."

"You just see the regular gargoyles as beasts."

"Because they are."

"You never did answer my question before. Why do you think they are monsters."

"You have seen them. They look like demons. They have fangs and claws and wings. They can throw cars and they turn to stone at dawn. Only evil creatures cannot function around daylight."

"Just like wolves and other nocturnal animals."

"That is different and you know it. They don’t turn to stone. They don’t glide down on the populace and install fear into them."

"They try to install fear into people who are committing a crime. If the people they are rescuing also get scared it’s not their fault."

"I still don’t want you in that castle, especially since they recently spawned."

"Spawned?" Marle dropped her fork and heard it clatter against her empty bowl. "Spawned. You mean had a breeding season? You are aware the weregoyles bred along with them."

Clarice shrugged. That little bit of information was new to her."I guess it would be possible."

"Including me." The clattering sound she heard was her other dropping her fork into her plate.

"You were having sex while you were ovulating?" Clarice gasped.

"I was trying to become with egg and I succeeded."

"Your pregnant?"

"Not pregnant," Marle shook her head. "I’m expecting. I already laid my egg."

"You laid an egg?" Clarice stared at her daughter in disbelief.

"Weregoyles lay eggs."

"Castaway’s wife gave birth to her two little boys."

"Female weregoyles lay eggs," Marle corrected. Castway’s wife is human and their children are only twentyfive percent gargoyle. "Demona and Gloria laid eggs too, although theirs have hatched."

"And yours hadn’t?"

"It’s because my mate is a pure gargoyle and my child will only be a quarter human."

"You laid one of their eggs?" Clarice did not want to think the impossible. She did not want to believe a grandchild, her daughter’s child, was going to be one the same beasts she fought. She did not want to think about the possibility of her being a grandmother to an egg.

"I don’t know when it will hatch, but you are a grandmother. This is why I wanted to meet with you. I wanted to give you the good news."

"Good news? Telling me my grandchild will be a monster is good news?"

The younger woman slid her chair out while she slowly stood up. "My child is not a monster," she spoke slowly and coldly. "Apologize."

"I’m not going to apologize for the truth," she reached for her purse. "I know I hurt you but maybe you need to get hurt to learn."

"Learn what? To learn what it’s like to be a close minded bitch?"

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. "You take that back right now."

"Not until you take back those words you said to me."

"I'm not going to apologize until you come to your senses."

"Come to my senses?" Marle stared her mother in complete disbelief. "What do you want me to do. Do you want me to turn my back and leave my home, my friends, my family and my clan?"

"Your brother and I are your family, not those things."

"Two of those things include my mate and my child." Marle felt her wrists shake.

"I’m not going accept the fact one of those monsters impregnated you with his spawn."

"Brooklyn is my mate and I love him. He did not rape me or force me to love him. I chose him, like I chose to live in the castle and how I chose to be a vegetarian."

"You have never made the right choice."

She let go of the table and wrenched her hands in a combination of frustration and anger. If she was still holding onto her napkin she would have ripped it in half. "You have said I never make the right choices. Ever since I chose to read those letters you hid you hated my descisions."

"I was only doing what is best for you."

"What you thought was the best for me." Marle corrected. "Just like I thought coming here to talk with you would be the best for my child. I wanted to reconnect with you so my child will know their grandmother."

"My grandchildren will not hatch from an egg."

"Too bad, I already laid my egg."

"I don’t think you understand me. That thing you laid is not my grandchild."

Marle couldn’t believe what she heard. "That is my child and I am going to raise it the way you raised me, but better than you. They will not be lied to and they will learn tolerance."

"Don’t expect me to be part of it’s life."

"I don’t want you to be part of their life, I don’t want you to be part of my life either," Marle felt the hot tears streak down her face. "If you refuse to accept my new family then please go. I’ll take care of the check."

"You still are an ungrateful brat," Clarice snarled as she grabbed her purse. "You don’t understand about how I have been trying to save you, but its too late. That monster only wanted you to be a brood mare to help produce more of his kind. If you are going to choose them over me and the rest of humanity then so be it." She shoved the chair back into the table and stormed out.

"Goodbye," Marle whispered her throat already anticipating the dry sore feeling of crying for hours. "Goodbye forever." She slid back into her seat and cradled her head. She could not hold back any longer and cried out loud, not caring if anyone at the surrounding tables noticed her or not.

___________________________________________________________________________

Brooklyn balanced the serving tray on his arm while he knocked on the door to Marle’s room. "My love it’s me, do you want to talk?" He hoped the warm comfort food would work. It’ had been three days since Marle severed all connections with her mother and she had yet to speak to anyone. She barely ate and rarely left her room, only to enter the nursery to sit next to her egg.

"Not really," Marle’s voice came out faint and sickly.

"Marle, please, open up. I’m worried about you," he glanced down at the tray. "I have some warm home made food. Broadway made some vegetable soup and warm apple cider and they are both from scratch, not from a can or a packet of mixture."

"I’m not hungry."

"You haven’t been eating and I’m worried about your condition." He knew she was eating during the day. Owen and the weregoyles had witnessed it, but until he has seen food pass her lips with his own eyes he was going to worry.

"I eat, I’m just not hungry."

"It’s not just soup and cider. There is home made whole wheat bread, still fresh from the oven and chocolate chip cookies."

"No thank you."

"Can I at least come in? I miss seeing my beautiful mate. I want to hold you in my arms. I love you."

"You can come in." Brooklyn slowly turned the knob and slipped inside. "Please set it on the table." Her voice was coming form her bed.

"I know you are depressed," Brooklyn said as he placed the tray down on the small round table in her living room part of her living quarters. "I just hope I can see you eat something before I leave, unless you want me to stay until dawn."

"I want you to stay," Marle said. She was not laying down on the bed and staring up at the ceiling nor was he on her side. She was sitting up in the middle of her bed with a sketch tablet across her lap. Brooklyn‘s eyes widened slightly at her appearance. He wondered when it was the last time she had brushed her hair. Her neat haircut was sticking out in every opposite end like a bird’s nest. She was dressed in the pink and white stripped nightgown she wore when she was still with egg.

"What are you drawing?" Brooklyn slowly approached her.

"I’m not drawing now. I’m cutting." She held up a paper doll she had drawn and several paper clothes fell from her other hand in a light rain. She dropped the whole handful before she selected a silver and purple paper dress and closed the tabs over the doll’s shoulders and hips. "You want to see?"

"I’m always interested in what you make," Brooklyn sat on the corner of the bed and picked up one of the discarded dolls. It had a pear shaped body with small breasts. He picked up a smaller one that looked like a child’s body in comparison. The third doll he picked up looked like a plump woman with medium sized breasts. "Practice models." He smiled in relief. He had no idea if her making paper dolls was an unhealthy reaction to her depression, but she was making dolls of various body types and creating outfits for them.

"They are models. You make models too." Her voice still sounded weak, even when he was near her.

"The ones I make are a little bit different." Usually when Marle was sketching desigings in her sketch book or in her swewingroom he was in the workshop assembling models of planes, sports cars, motorcycles and space ships. "Your voice sounds a bit dry. Are you sure you are not thirsty?"

"I am a bit thirsty," she nodded.

He slid out of the bed and grabbed the cup form the table. "Good thing I brought the cider then." He handed her the cup before he sat down next to her, careful not to disrupt any of the paper dolls.

"Thank you," She took a long drink before lowering the cup. "I needed that."

"I think you need some of the other food I brought."

Her lips turned up a slight smile. "I’m still not hungry."

He reached over to gently brush his fingers through her bangs. "I want to see you smile more often."

"I don’t think I’ll be smiling much, at least for a while."

"You want me to go hunt down your mother and have her see how miserable she is making you?" He knew he shouldn’t have mentioned her mother when she growled.

"Clarice Duchamp is not my mother, not anymore. This is not like when Maggie told her folks what happened and showed them. She will never come around."

"You do not know that for sure."

"You didn’t grow up with her. She is so set in her ways and so selfish. I never told you what she did to my father."

"You still have him."

She shrugged. "I’m not sure. I never received a response from that letter."

Brooklyn stroked her hair again. "You know how slow the mail services are."

She shrugged again. "Maybe I should have called." She wanted to meet Brooklyn’s smile, but her heart was not into it and his smile was accompanied by brighten eyes. Her own brow ridges rose when he slid out of bed. "Where are you going?"

"I’m getting the phone." He grabbed the wireless phone from he cradle and brought to her.

She took it into her hands. she stared at the numbers and shook her head. "I can’t do this. I can’t call him. I can’t deal with rejection again."

"You won’t know unless you call," he brushed his hand over her shoulder.

She inhaled deeply and pressed the numbers for her father’s apartment. She heard the repeated shirt ring of the number being busy. "I can’t get through."

"Try again," his hand slipped from her shoulder to his hand.

She dialed again and heard the normal dial tone before a voice address her on the other line. The sound of her father’s voice made her heart race. "Hi Dad, This is Marle."

"Marle? I was just about to call you. I got your letter today."

"You got my letter today?" Marle felt the end of her tail twitch. "So you know?"

"Yes I know, and I wasn’t smoking at the time. I cut down to one cigar a night and one during my lunch break."

"That’s good," Marle felt a small warm feeling develop inside her. "what kind of reaction did you have?"

"Well, there was shock at first and a little bit of disapointment you haven’t called me when you were with egg."

"I’m sorry," the warm feeling in her heart grew till it consumed her chest.

"You don’t have any idea when the egg is due?"

"Between now and ten years is all I can guess."

"You can’t tell me if I’m expecting a grandson or granddaughter."

She shrugged, knowing he couldn’t see."No one can tell when they are still in the shell."

"Maybe I can tell when I get there. I’m good at these things."

"Nobody can-" she blinked when she realized what he told her. "You are coming here?"

"Five days from now. It was the earliest I can get some time off form work. I was just booking my flight before you called, unless you were trying to call me while I was online."

She was unaware of the crystal liquid gathering at the corners of her eyes. "You still only have dial up and one phone line? you need to get a DSL modem."

"Is there anything else you want to talk to me about?"

"Not really," she squeeze her mate’s hand. "I should have called instead of written but with you always say nothing beats a hand written letter."

"Well if you really need to talk I would rather hear your voice."

"It’s to talk with you. I love you daddy."

"I love you two sweetheart"

She cradled the phone minutes after she had said her good-byes.

"Feel better?" Brooklyn asked

"A little. I would feel a lot better when I get something to eat." Her response brought another smile to her mate’s beak.

__________________________________________________________________________

Seneca pulled back the top drawer of the fine oak dresser she had stored her clothes in. Amongst her undergarments and her nightgowns was a card sealed in a dark blue envelope and a box covered in golden wrapping papers. She will give her father the gifts on Sunday.

She closed the dresser before she stepped back and surveyed the room she and her father would be spending in. She had made sure the room had two beds and specifically asked for the least fanciest room. The large blue rug in the middle of the floor felt like it was made from real wool when she walked across it without any shoes on. The beds had plain white canopies and bedspreads without any lace. The pillows seemed plain with two large ones and a small round decorative pillow in the middle. They did have a bed ruffle though. The curtains were trimmed in lace and there was one doily on the night stand between the beds.

"He shouldn’t be too upset," she said while placing her hands on her hips. She turned to the door when she heard a light knocking. "That should be him."

"Seneca!" Anton Sevarius held out his arms eagerly to embrace his daughter, even if she did step back. "I think you have actually grown an inch." He turned to the hallway where the bell hop was still holding onto his suit case. "You can put it on the bed. Such delightful service they have here. I told them it was only one bag, but they insist on carrying it for me."

"I already claimed the top two shelves," Seneca said while slipping form his embrace. "I have all my lab notes typed up and got plenty of studying done. I’m also only two pages away from being finished with my thesis paper."

"That’s my girl," he removed his wallet from his back pocket. "Doesn’t wait until the last minute, but you still work yourself too hard. All that stress is unhealthy for you." He extracted a five dollar bill and handed it to the porter.

"I have to do my best if I want to graduate at the top of my class."

"Nothing wrong with being the second best," he smiled until the bell hop had left the room.

"I’m only second best compared to you."

"You may someday pass by me," Sevarius took one long look around the room. "This doesn’t seem to be too bad" his eyebrows were rasied indisaray at the sight of the bed ruffle and doily. "There is a litte bit of frills, and lace."

"This is the least fanciest."

His worried expression did not fade."How bad is the bathroom? Is there any potpourri?"

"Just a small bowl and the rugs and towels are white. The soaps and shampoos and stuff are kept in the small basket."

He held up is hands in mock defeat. There wasn’t much he could do. He believed his daughter when she said it was the least fanciest.

He walked towards the bed and stared at his suitcase."I’m not really in the mood to unpack."

"We can go out for dinner," Seneca suggested. "There is a Denny’s nearby and I’m in the mood for their skillet meals but I know you are probably going to order one of their burgers."

Sevarius sighed, a distant look was in his eyes. "Its’ been a while since I had one of Denny’s burgers."

"We can go right now," she said while reaching for his hand. His fingers clasped around her own as she lead him form their room.

___________________________________________________________________________

"Oh my god, he shaved his beard." Marle was the first one to see her father at the airport. Her father still had the same amount of hair as last time she saw him but stopped dying it and allowed it to go completely silver.

"He has changed," Frank squinted as he studied the incoming crowd. He agreed to drive Marle to the airport, in one of Xanatos’s cars, and wait with her amongst the sea of people who were waiting for their relatives and limo drivers holding up signs. Her father still matched the last photo he had seen of him

"Daddy!" Marle raced up to her father as soon as he had broken away from the crowd.

"Marle," Mr. Duchamp set down his carry on to embrace his daughter. "You are as thin as I remembered. How did you loose all that pregnancy weight?"

"Don’t be silly," she reached down for his brown and black carry on. Her fingers cured around the thick plastic handle. "How was your flight?

"Not bad," his peaceful smile was framed at the corners by fine lines. His eyes were the sme warm shade of honey brown as his daughter. "Didn’t have a real meal, just a snack pack and something to drink."

"I’m sure Owen and Broadway will cook you up something delicious," Frank said as he lead father and daughter to the baggage claim.

"You are Fred?"

Frank was not bothered by the small mix up."Frank, sir.."

"That’s right Frank and don’t call me sir. Call me Lou."

"Lou, gottacha." Frank mumbled.

________________________________________________________________________

Owen Burnett was standing in front of the elevator doors, waiting for Marle and Frank to arrive with Louis Duchamp. The ever dilligent servant stood as stiff as a rod. He didn’t want to appear the slightest bit affected by the conversation he had with Fox a few weeks ago. He could not share his ainformation with anyone else in the castle and keep it a secret between him and Fox. Whenever he cooked breakfast for the humans and were’s of the castle she would speak with him, even if it was to tell him she did not dream of any other clues.

The clues she offered were scarce, and often very confusing. "I don’t understand how the four prisons connect with a giant piece of ice, a firefly in a brass cage and a frog riding the back of a coyote." Fox had complained out pure frustration, brought on by the obscurity of her dreams and the feeling she wasn’t helping.

Owens thoughts of the previous mornings were pushed aside the second the doors opened. "Welcome to Wvyern, Mr. Duchamp. Allow me to take your bags for you."

"No thanks," Lou said while still holding on to one of his bags. "I already have two helpers."

"If you insist," Owen held out his hands. "I have two good hands."

Mr. Duchamp paused in front of the majordomo. "That is right. You used to have a paralyzed hand and Marle’s last letter told me you got it healed."

"There have been a lot of changes." Owen chuckled dryly, hoping he didn’t sound like he was trying to surpress a cough. "If you don’t need me I’m going to play with my son before I cook dinner."

"He has a kid?" Loy’s forhead creased. He wasn’t sure if Marle had written to him about that little detail.

"A lot of us are becoming fathers," Frank said while leading Lou to one of the guest rooms. "My little Macy is getting bigger everyday."

Mr. Duchamp chortled. "How old is she now?"

"Almost three."

"Come on dad," Marle grabbed onto her father’s arm. "Lets get you unpacked and then I’ll show you your grandchild?"

"How about we drop the suitcases off and then go and see your egg?"

Duchamp’s temporary guest-room was on the other side of the castle. The long walk added more to the fatigue already felt by both Marle and her father. She entered the rookery first and turned on the light.

"Step lightly now," she said as she lead him through the room and stepping over Boudicca’s eggs, both a solid smooth shade of grayish purple without any siging of developing spots.

Duchamp counted the eleven remaining egg and pointed to the two barren areas that once held Gloria’s and Demona’s eggs. "What happen those eggs? the ones in the two empty areas?"

Marle noticed whe he was pointing ."Those have already hatched. They were the weregoyle eggs. The have a nine month gestation like humans: six months in the womb and three months in the shell."

"What about the two in the middle?" He pointed to the ground.

"Those are Boudicca’s."

"Boudicca?" His mouth formed a small forwn. The frown he used when he fought hard to try to remember something. "I’m not sure if I remember her. She must be a really small gargoyle."

"Boudicca is a gargoyle beast," Marle chuckled. "She’s like Bronx."

He held out his hand to hover at hip level. "She is one of those dog like creature."

"Exactly," she crouched down next to her egg. "Here’s mine," she brushed her fingers over the light blue surface.

"Sure stand’s out," Lou carefully kneeled down in front of it. "This is the same color as you at night?"

"About the same shade, although I don’t have a hint of gray in my gargoyle skin."

"May I touch it?"

"Yes you may. The shells are almost as hard as stone."

"Thank you," he touched the egg, brushing his fingers over the spots. "I think your egg is the prettiest of the bunch."

"Thank you dad." Marle could not help to smile at the image of her father crouching down in the mixture of cotton, straw, and feathers.

"Now let me see here," he continued to stroke the egg, studying it with squinting eyes. "I think your egg will hatch in about four to six years and it will be a girl, and since it will be your daughter she will be the most beautiful of all the female hatchlings."

Marle brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "You have got to be kidding me."

"This is what I think," he slowly stood back up. "You said your egg has been out amongst the oxygen for three months now?’

"That’s correct," she yawned.

"And it already has stared to form spots? I used an educated guess. It would seem most likely your egg will hatch a few years before the others."

"Okay, I agree with you about when it will hatch, but about it’s gender?"

"Well I calculated it on the side it’s laying on, the direction the top part is pointing at and where the spots have appeared."

Marle crossed her arms. "You just made it up?"

"Yeah," he smiled sheepishly before yawning. "I hope you won’t think I’m a party pooper or anything, but I’m kind of tired."

"You don’t have to apologies. I’m feeling tired myself. I get my eight hours during the daytime. It’s a little more than an hour until dinner. we can both take a nap."

"That sounds like a plan," Lou Duchamp said before yawning again.

___________________________________________________________________________

Sevarius was not expecting their room to have a television set, but Seneca had informed him that half of the rooms in the Bed and Breakfast did have them. It didn’t have much for cable but it did have a few basic channels and AMC, TCM and the family channel. There was also a blank channel used by the hotel to run romantic and family movies. He studied the small guide that was set on top of the television and tried to find something to watch.

After thumbing through the guide for a half hour he was unable to find anything."There isn’t anything good to watch." He meant to mumble to himself, but his voice came out louder than he had anticipated.

"I’m not really interested in television right now," Seneca said from her bed. She was lying across her stomach with her shoes off. Her Biochemistry II book was opened up in front of her and her notebook was right beside her. "I’m just trying to get some studying done."

Sevariuas cast a worried stare on her. "It won’t hurt you to take a break from your work. We are spending the weekend together."

"I know. I just don’t want my grades to suffer. I can’t risk getting anything less than a B+"

"B’s are not the end of the world you know. They are still above average." He set the guide down on the night-stand and sat up. "You know there are some medical break-throughs for arthritis involving bee’s."

"I know, but I find the venom from a hornet to be more powerful."

"I think you were on too something all those years ago."

"I know," she removed the cap to her neon orange highlighter and streaked a few sentences in her book. "If you are feeling bored there is a recreation room. You can impress the other guests with your dart skills."

"I have read the activities that are listed. They are scheduling a nature hike in an hour from now. We can go with them and you can show of your vast knowledge of nature and impress everyone."

"I dunno."

"We can go on the hike, wash up and go back to Dennys. This time I might want to try one of those skillets."

"You did nab some off of my plate."

"And you were stealing some of my fries," Sevarius smiled as he stretched. "Some things will never change."

She sealed the cap on her highlighter and placed it in the middle of her book. "You are right." She closed closed both her book and folder. "Lets make an appearance." She gathered up her book and folder and slid them back into her backpack

___________________________________________________________________________

As soon as Marle had awoken from her nap she quickly changed clothes. She chosen her hot blink blouse with a large square shaped hole in the back and white creased miniskirt with a split in the back for her tail when it grew at sunset.

She raced through the hallways towards her father’s guest-room. This was the first time her father had slept in the castle, they other times he had visited he instead on staying in a hotel. He didn’t want to be too much of a bother. She had made it in time as he stepped out of the room.

"Which way is the can?" He asked while he stepped out. His clothes were not wrinkled and his hair was recently brushed.

"I forgot to check if your room had one or not," she blinked the remaining sleep from her eyes.

"Nope, just a bedroom and a closet."

"Same as the children’s bedrooms," Marle lead him to the nearest facilities. "The room you are in may become Macy’s bedroom, or it might go to another child when they turn three."

"It’s a right of passage when a child turns three?" Lou asked. " A child turns three and they are given their own bedroom. Do they all sleep in the nursery until then?"

"The original intention of the nursery was to be Alex’s room. Then I and the other’s became weregoyles and Matt and Demona became parents."

Duchamp stepped out of the bathroom a couple of minutes later. "And when Alex turned three he got a room to himself?"

"It’s a bit smaller than his original room, but he doesn’t seem to mind."

"You have any idea what’s for dinner?" He stretched.

"I would have stopped to ask but I had to make sure I reached you before you got lost in the hallways."

"Good point. You know this isn’t the first time we had taken a nap together."

"I have the photo in my album."

"You know the exact one I’m talking about?" He smiled softly while he raised his eyebrows an inch.

"I made copies of all the family photos and created a photo album of my own. I’ll be happy to show you after I change."

"Your transformation?" He pointed at the outfit she was wearing. "Is that why you are dressed like that?"

She nodded. "And I will change shortly after dinner."

___________________________________________________________________________

Dinner turned out to be grilled chicken breasts covered in a zesty tomato sauce along with homemade raviolis, fattened up with ricotta cheese and cooked al dente. Gloria tried to help out by preparing a side salad and baked a loaf of garlic bread.

"These raviolis are as good as my grandmother’s," Gloria said as she used her fork to cut the pillow like pasta into fours.

"I’m glad you like them," Owen said as he tried to get Ronnie to eat his baby carrots. The toddler was more interested in playing with the tiny pieces of food instead of eating them. Owen did not have the same problem with his miniature hot dogs and his mashed potatoes.

"Did you buy the pasta or did you make it from scratch?"

"I made it," Owen said after getting Ronnie to eat a few bites of his vegtables. "There. That wasn’t so bad. Now lets see if you can try to get the rest in your mouth."

"Carrot num-num," Ronnie’s nails curled out of his finger tips and sank into his food, spearing four of the carrots. He gurgled as he smacked his hands against each other, carrots clashing into each other and falling off.

"Bakes the pasta and takes care of his own child," Lou shook his head in disbelief. "This is the same guy who cleans the place, takes care of the children and is a personal assistant to Xanatos?"

"Yeah," Marle nodded. "He’s like superman."

"This is a delicious meal," Lou wiped his mouth with a napkin. "But shouldn’t we wait until the gargoyles wake up?"

"We eat around the same time through out the year," Marle explained. "It’s just with the summer months dinner time happens before sunset."

"Good point," Lou Duchamp pointed out before taking another bite of his bread..

_________________________________________________________________________

Marle had to drag her father away form the kitchen once their meals were completed. He insisted on putting the leftovers away and try to help with the dishes. "You are the guest," she grunted. "And it’s father’s day weekend."

"I won’t do the dishes," he finally allowed her to pull him away. "But what about the food?"

"We are going to leave it out for the clan."

"How long do we have to wait?"

"We don’t," she answered while her canines sharpened into fangs. "They are waking up." She grabbed her stomach as she felt her organs shift inside and her ears grew pointed. Her skin changed texture and color into a pale blue shade. Her hands writhed and changed into sharp talons while a pair of butterfly like split wings ripped out of her back. Her feet changed shape, bones snapped while arches formed and her heels lengthened into spurs. Her lower spine lengthened into a long thick tail while her transformation ended. A feral cry exited her throat while her eyes lit up with a burning red glow.

During her transformation her father stood by her and only stepped backwards when she roared. "Sorry," he said while the glow dimmed from her eyes. "I know I shouldn’t be scared. Just a reflex from that roar and your eyes. You just looked and sounded pissed."

"It’s just a reflex," Marle shrugged while giving her father a toothy grin. "A little hard to control. We can go and greet my mate now."

"I have a few things I want to say to him."

Marle folded her wings across her chest, hoping her father wasn’t going to share his latest round of crude e-mail jokes with her mate. She had no idea when the gargoyles were going to enter the castle. She only knew the were going to gradually enter the dining area.

Goliath was the first to enter the dining room followed by Mercutio, Broadway and Bronx. The seven foot gargoyle paused at the man with silver hair and glanced at Marle. "Your father?"

Marle knew it was two year since the clan leader had seen him last. "This is my father."

"Didn’t he used to have a beard?" Goliath ran his talons through his sable colored mane.

"I shaved it off," Duchamp ran his fingertips across his smooth chin without removing his gaze from the large gargoyle. While he was not completely used to presence of gargoyles he was not frigthen by Goliath standing only a few inches away from him. "Goliath right?"

"You are right," Goliath slipped past him and headed towards the table, manners clearly secluded by the burning hunger in his stomache

"Dinner smells delicious," Broadway commented as he approached the table.

"Give Owen graditude," Duchamp held up a finger. "He made the pasta. Mixed the egg and flour and everything else and baked the noodles."

"I know this is going be good," Mercutio licked his lips. His shock of messy hair bounced with each step he took towards the kitchen.

Brooklyn was one of the last ones to enter the room. Instead of racing towards the table like the others the crimson gargoyle went right for Marle and swept her up into his arms. "Missed you when I woke up." He rubbed the back of his knuckles across her forehead.

"I couldn’t just allow my father to run around the castle without a guide," she kissed the bottom of his beak.

"Your father?" Brooklyn slipped away from her and turned to face the human staring at him with a disapproving glare. "Hello sir."

"At least you know how to address me," Lou walked up to the crimson gargoyle and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Lets see if I can fix that spine of yours."

Brooklyn stepped back and blinked. "There is nothing wrong with my back."

"Well if there is nothing wrong then you can stop slouching. Stand up tall. You are part of a brave and noble race."

"Okay," Brooklyn straightened his back.

"Good I don’t want my grandchild to learn any bad manners from you."

"Does that mean he or she can learn bad manners from me?" Marle grinned. She knew what her father was up to.

"Where do you get your smart mouth humor from?" Lou glanced at her. "Oh that’s right, you get it from me." He turned back to Brooklyn. "From what I have been told you are learning more and more how to lead your clan. You need to stand like a leader and not like a slacker."

"Yes, sir." Brooklyn wasn’t sure what Mr Duchamp was trying to do to him. He looked over toward’s his mate, but Marle showed no signs of helping.

"You also need to wear something else besides that loincloth. I’m not saying you have to wear pants but maybe a top. This is the twenty-first century. Maybe you should cut your hair."

"Uh-Uh," Brooklyn shook his head and grabbed onto his long platinum mane. "Nobody messes with the hair."

"I just want you to look like a dignified leader. Maybe you can tie it back." He couldn’t hold the serious stare any longer.. The corners of his mouth were threatening to turn up hile his face was flushed with a shade of bright scarlet. When he had enough he stepped back and laughed. "I’m only joking with you son. Although you should work on your posture."

"Oh," Brooklyn smiled. "Thank you, sir."

"And quit the nervouse-teenager-meeting-his-girlfriend’s-father-for-the-first-time act. Call me Dad." He glanced at his watch. "It’s about time for my post dinner cigar. Care to join me?"

Brooklyn smiled as he shook his head. "I’m not really fond of cigars, but thank you for the offer."

"He needs to eat," Marle grabbed onto her father’s hand. "I’ll take you to the living room. I need to show you something." She lead him down the labyrinth like passageways of the gargoyle’s living room. She would pour him his Scotch and allow him to smoke in peace while she searched for her photo album.

________________________________________________________________________

The glossy cover of the photo album was a creamy shade of burgundy with the corners that beheld the apperance they had been dipped in gold metallic paint. Marle did not care for the title of Precious moments, treasured memories or even family album. She selected her own title, Marle’s Photos, written in feathery golden script.

When She returned to her father he was grinding out the butt of his cigar into the seashell shaped ashtray on the middle of the coffee table. He still had half of his drink left with a few slivers of ice floating on the surface.

"I found it," she spoke up, hoping she didn’t surprise him while she kept the book behind her back.

"Found what?" he sat back and swirled the remaining liquid in his glass. "I hope what I used was an ash tray."

"It is," Marle replied. "Mostly used as a decoration but it is an ashtray. That’s why it has those four notches to hold cigarettes."

"Too small for cigars."

"Which is a shame. Cigar smoke smells better."

"Still don’t want to inhale it," he took a small slow sip. "This is some good scotch. What is it you wanted to show me."

"This," she showed him the book. "I told you I had copy’s of all the family photos."

"Been a while since I looked at those," he scooted over on the couch, giving his daughter plenty of room.

She sat down next to him. "I don’t have all the photos."

"Well, lets see what you have."

She opened the cover and turned the pink cover paper over. The second page had three photos of an infant. "I don’t have all my baby pictures."

"That is perfectly fine with me," he leaned over and chuckled. "Still taking naps at the same time." he pointed at the picture of a much younger version of himself sleeping on his left arm. The infant was curled up next to him, sleeping on her arm in the same pose as her father.

"I hope I’m not intruding," both father and daughter looked up Brooklyn. The crimson gargoyle was standing in the doorway, tapping his tail against the floor.

"You are not intruding," Lou slid over to the far end of the couch. "Sit down with us. We are going through some photos."

"I think I have seen those before," Brooklyn smiled.

"Not all of these," Marle held the book in the middle of her lap, making it easily available for both her father and mate to view.

"Never did see all your baby pictures."

"I have only three of me before my first birthday," Marle gently took the corner of the page. The other two pictures were of her in an infant swinger and napping on a baby blanket in the middle of the floor. She turned the page. The first photo on the top was of her as an infant sitting up in the middle of an highchair with a tiny chocolate cake set in front of her. A single pink candle was placed in the center of the cake. "See? Told you."

The following photos on the page were both of Marle and her parents. There was a picture of her standing up in front of the television and holding her arms up in a dramatic pose, of her in pretty pastel dress and of her sleeping in her crib. There were two pictures of her parents standing together and holding each other’s hands romantically, and one picture of the three of them together.

Marle felt the pain of her disowning her mother over again and looked up at her father to see if he was feeling the same. The corners of his eyes turned down in sorrow a few times but they were quickly replaced with laughter when he pointed a particularly cute picture.

Brooklyn was amazed at all the photo’s of his mate when she was a toddler. He nodded along when Mr. Duchamp pointed at a picture of Marle pushing a long her wheeled plastic popper behind her mother as she vacuumed, when she was two and visited the beach for the first time and when she was three and dressed as a bunny for Halloween.

"You dressed as a bunny?" Brooklyn couldn’t keep from chuckling.

"You weren’t laughing when I was Raggedy Anne."

"I can see you as Raggedy Anne," Brooklyn fought had to keep from laughing out loud. "I just couldn’t see you as a bunny."

"You promise you won’t laugh at my costumes the following years?"

"I don’t know," he rolled his eyes back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to look innocent. "It depends on the costumes."

"Minnie mouse, Smurfete, a ballerina, Rainbow Bright, a gypsy, the Baroness from Gi. Joe, Glimmer from She’ ra, an astronaut, a vampiress, a princess, a dead cheerleader and a cat girl." She rattled off the names of her past halloween costumes.

"I can see you in all of the following."

"I remember the Baroness costume," Lou grinned. "We couldn’t find it in any stores and your mother made it for you. She would bend the world to make you and Ray happy."

"Ray?" Brooklyn glanced at a picture of Marle playing in the snow with her parents in the background. Clarice was clearly showing. "Is that him?" He pointed at the picture.

"He makes his grand debut on the next page," Marle turned it over. The top photo was a tired picture of her mother holding on to a sleeping infant. Her father was standing next to her, looking excited.

"I like the following photo," Duchamp pointed at the picture next to it. A four year old Marle was holding onto her newborn brother.

"This was before sibling rivalry kicked in?" Brooklyn asked.

"Yeah," Marle agreed. "Two years prior."

"What kicked that off?"

"I caught him chewing on my crayons."

Both Lou and Brooklyn both broke out in laughter as they continued through the pictures. Lou pointed out his favorites including a picture of Marle pushing her brother around in a stroller and a marking his height with a crayon. Brooklyn enjoyed every photo of his mate and pointed out each picture of her in her Halloween costumes through out the years.

They paused at one picture of them at Easter when Marle was eleven and Ray was seven. "Last one I have of us together," Marle whispered.

"Before the divorce," Brooklyn sighed.

"She wasn’t always materialistic," Lou began as he revisted the past painful memory It began to happen a couple of years before the we split. I didn’t recognize it at the time. She kept on prattling about making sure there was a lot of money for your birthdays, Christmas and Easter. She wanted to go somewhere out of state for summer and a fancy trip for our anniversary."

"One month after Easter you were laid off."

"I promised her I would have another job before summer, and if I still didn’t have enough money we could always go visit your grandparents, but no she was pretty adamant about visiting Six flags."

"We didn’t go to Six Flags that year and she was upset."

"You and Ray understood better than she did."

"She divorced you because of that?" Brooklyn asked in disbelief.

"It was more than that," Lou sighed. "I got a new job at the start of July. It paid less than the previous one but while I was working she was slipping of to bars and meeting other men."

"Like Chaz," Marle brought up. "She told me he was from the real estate office and he was working with her on an important house. Ray was the one who caught them kissing, and I think he told you before me."

Brooklyn reached out for her arm. "You were the last to know?"

She nodded. "Yeah, pretty much." She turned the pages, ther were barely any pictures on the other side only a few of them of the grandparent visit. The last picture was of her dressed in a simple lavender dress and wearing a back pack. "Very first day of middle school."

"You weren’t smiling," Brooklyn said.

"Who would be smiling?" Marle sighed. "They were still going through the courts." hardly anyone was smiling in the following pictures, even at Christmas. The first photo they found where people were smiling was a few pictures of Marle and a few other girls her age in pajamas.

"I took these pictures," Lou said. "You were celebrating your 12th birthday."

"Yeah, and here I am ready for my first dance." Marle pointed at the picture of herself wearing a pink gown with sleeves trimmed in lace and ending at her knees. Her hair was swept up into a braid and she had a fake rose pinned to her hair with a gold barrette.

"You look pretty in this one," Brooklyn said.

"Yeah," she turned through photos of her and Ray spending the summer with her father and of some staring out of focus images. "I think Ray was learning how to take pictures here."

"Here’s your vampire costume," Brooklyn hovered a talon over a twelve year old Marle dressed in black and wearing a long white wig. Her face was done up with pale make up and she wore plastic fangs in her mouth.

"I wore that two times that year. The first to the Halloween dance and the second time for trick or treating."

"When did she start pulling those stunts?" Lou asked.

"Stunts?" Brooklyn asked. "Is this about your mother?"

Marle nodded. "Whenever it was time for my father to visit she took us out for errands. I started marking his visitation days on the calendar and refused to leave the house."

"Lasted for a few months until I threatened to call my lawyer. She tried to minimize my visitation rights in court by saying I was always late and she even told the layer I had a drinking problem."

"Good thing the judge saw through her."

"It would explain why she moved a year later to New York and took you and Ray with her."

"She cant do that," Brooklyn gasped. "That was illegal."

"She had a job offer and wanted to take it," Marle sighed. "She wanted to wait until after I finished middle school though. I reminded her to call you about the move."

"She must have forgotten to give me the memo," Lou frowned. "I knew you left when I showed up at the house and it was empty. I didn’t know where until a month later."

"Ray wanted to talk to him and I knew the number," Marle explained to her mate. "Mom got pissed when she found out. "

"Had to change the custody in order to see you on the summers and around Christmas because of the travel. That didn’t stop her. I tried to call and she would answer it first and tell me they were busy or at a friend’s house and I tried to write. I sent several letters without any response."

"When we didn’t get a phone call or a letter I started to worry," Marle sighed. "Ray would keep asking and she told him you were too busy for us. Things were depressing when we didn’t receive any birthday cards or presents. You did show up with Christmas presents and we did enjoy our summer but had to cut it short. Grandma had to go to the hospital. Nobody faked that," Marle shrugged before turning to her mate. "She suffered from heat stroke and collapsed, but I remember the discussion between grandma and her. She pretended I wasn’t around but knew I was within hearing. She badmouthed you and told Grandma how you couldn’t provide for Ray and I and obviously didn’t care too much."

"Why did she do such things?" Brooklyn asked.

"She wanted us to hate our father. She was and still is selfish." She felt her eyes water up as she scowled. "She bent the world to try to make happy, as long as I was the obedient daughter who believed everything she said. That all changed when I found out the truth."

"How did you do that?" Her mate asked.

"I was taking out the trash one day and it snagged against something. The bag ripped and half the trash fell out. One of them was a letter from my father," she grabbed her father’s wrist. "I slipped it in my pocket and cleaned up the rest of the mess. I looked for more letters but it was the only one. I read how he kept writing and trying to call and he wondered why Ray and I never wrote to him."

"She threw the letters away?" Brooklyn gasped, leaving the bottom of his beak hanging.

Marle nodded. "I figured that was why I never received anything. I wrote back the following day and dropped it off in a blue mail box on the way to school. I always checked the mailbox the second I returned from school and I went through the trash every day. If I found a letter in the mailbox I took only it to my room to read. I showed them to Ray, but told him not to tell our mother."

"When did she learn the truth." Lou asked

"When she cleaned my room a few months later. She confronted me about them and I asked her why was she trying to keep us from you. She said you were a horrible father who couldn’t provide for us or hold a job. She wants the best for us and he can’t earn enough for that."

"What did you say?" Brooklyn asked.

"I told her he makes more than average. He loves us very much and money wasn’t everything. I got her to confess she threw away the birthday cards and removed the tags from the birthday presents," her eyes glowed briefly. "I didn’t get grounded until I told her your jobs were more stable than her line of boyfriends. I couldn’t leave my room for that weekend and she forbade me to contact you until Christmas. She dropped it when I threatened to runaway to live with you."

Lou squeezed her hand again. "I remember the flood of letters and phone calls since then."

"Ever since that day she never approved of anything I did. She turned her nose up at my vegetarianism, my dream of being a designer and my boyfriends. Ray is starting to see through her too." She leaned against her father. "At least I still have one parent."

"You will always be my beautiful daughter," he brushed her bangs out from her eyes. "And I will always love you."

Brooklyn carefully slid the photo album out of Marle’s lap and turned through the last pages. He did not want to ruin the beautiful father and daughter moment.

_________________________________________________________________________

Sevarius had no idea why Seneca insisted he wore the ridiculous blindfold nor why she was gone since they finished breakfast. She was in the room for a few minutes by herself. She told him she was preparing a surprise for him. It would be ready after he had a long relaxing shower and a good game of darts.

He was asked to be blindfolded before they left the building. She told him she was going to walk him to his surprise. He didn’t know how long it was going to take but he knew they were on the hiking paths. He could smell the pine from the forest, and feel the stone pebbles of the pathway under his shoes.

"This way," she instructed as she lead him off the path after several minutes of walking. "We are almost there."

"Where is there?" he asked while he carefully stepped through the grass.

"Your surprise," Seneca chuckled. "A few more yards."

"I don’t think I can handle a few more yards," Sevarius gasped. "I’m out of shape, unless you are leading me to a treadmill."

"If you told me you needed one I would have gotten you one." She stopped in her tracks. "You can remove your blindfold now."

Sevarius slipped the cloth from over his eyes and blinked at the unfamiliar brightness. He shielded his eyes as he sought out his daughter’s surprise. Seneca was pointing at a red and white checkered table cloth in the middle of the grass and fallen leaves. There was a cooler right next to it and something covered with a towel.

"You set up a picnic for us?"

"Just for us," she skipped ahead. "Come on."

Seeing the vibrant energy still inside his daughter he was reminded of her when she was nine and wanted to explore the woods. "All right." He slowly approached the picnic site as Seneca opened the cooler. He noticed the top shelf holding the sandwiches, bags of chips and cookies. "You got the kind that will keep everything from turning into mush."

"Even better," she pulled up a baggie containing leaves of lettuce from the ice and water filled bottom. "I seperated the lettuce and tomatos."

"Smart girl," Sevarius smiled as he removed the dry foods. "What else do you have down there? Soda?"

"Two cans of soda, two peaches, a baggie of celery and carrot sticks and a tub of ranch dip. Put the plates on the yellow circles."

"Yellow circles?" Sevarius noticed several circles and squares drawn in chalk on the cloth.

"Chalk keeps ants off our food."

"Well I’ll be," Sevarius placed the stack of napkins on one square and the Dixie plates on two of the circles. "My little girl is a clever poppit."

"I get it all from you," Seneca said as she assembled the sandwiches.

Sevarius placed the fruit and container of dip in the other two circles and filled the remaining squares with the other food. Seneca placed some of the chips and vegetables on the plates, next to the sandwiches.

Sevarius took a bite from his sandwich. The bread was perfectly dry while the lettuce was cool and crispy and the tomatos soft and juicy. "That was a great idea and these are excellent sandwiches."

"I knew roast beef is your favorite," Seneca smiled. "I also got you a Coke myself a diet Pepsi."

"All my favorites. This was a nice surprise."

"It’s not over yet," she removed the towel, revealing the evenlope and golden package. Her father raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Here you go."

He neatly ripped open the blue enevelope and removed the Hallmark card. The image was a watercolor picture of a man and a young girl sitting in front of a pond. He read the message inside, feeling his heart warming up. "Cute," he chuckled while setting it down and opened the package. His eyes widened at image of the large and bulky blue watch. "That is quite a big watch."

"It does a lot of things besides tell time and date."

"It’s also a stop watch and an alarm," Sevarius read the description on the side. "It also has a complete calender."

"You can toggle the buttons over the days and press this other button and it will tell you the day and if it is a holiday or not. You can aso add in information for that day by pressing a few more buttons. It also has a day planner."

"I won’t have a problem remebering specific dates," Sevarius grinned. "This watch sounds quite expensive."

"I got the money from my benefactor," Seneca smiled. "I told you I would take care of everything." She reached over and embraced her father.

_________________________________________________________________________

Marle held onto the menu at Cassios, trying to decided between either the eggplant parmesian or the portobello delight. She glanced over across the table at her father blinking at his menu. "Are you all right?"

"These prices," Lou said. "How are you able to afford this?"

"Fox loaned me the money."

"I guess I could try to find the cheapest dinner."

"Or you can pretend money does not matter and enjoy whatever you want," Marle rolled her eyes. "Relax. Fox gave me enough to treat atleast ten people. I have more than enough for you, Ray and me."

"When is he getting here?" He lowered his menu.

"In about ten minutes. He got stuck in traffic. Why don’t you try what David suggested."

"The spicey NY strip does sound delicious," he glanced at the menu item one last time. "My wallet still hurts just looking at it."

"I said I’ll take care of it. It’s the least I can do since I didn’t get you a gift."

"I don’t need a gift. Spending the weekend with you, your mate, your egg and Ray is the only present I could ever want."

"I love you daddy," Marle reached across the table with her hand open. "Happy Father’s day."

"I love you sweetheart." He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.