Disclaimer: The characters of Gargoyles are property of Disney. The characters of Dr. Marianne Ellis and Cameron Ellis are property of me, Trynia Merin. Charles Quin Cassidy and Michelle Jennfer Cassidy as well as the magical sword Wavedancer are property of Javagoddess which I use with her permission. Our characters mean no harm to the show. Mummies Alive characters mentioned are property of DIC. My thanks to Jade for html coding and editing, and to Javagoddess for her inspiration in this one!

Plot synopsis: Mary faces yet another challenge under St. George. After she and Chas go forth from Avalon, they find themselves back in New York. Mary calls home to find that she has lost her job due to cutbacks. She sets about trying to find a new job.

Let go. The phrase had such mixed connotations to the young scientist. Instantly her cozy world at the San Francisco Museum had been shattered by the phrase. The blow hit her hard and personal.

"What am I going to do?" she lamented, as she stumbled out of the office. Someone helped her to pack her stuff into a cardboard box. One or two were put on a dolly, and crated out as somebody took her arm. In the front lobby her eyes fell upon that familiar figure in the black leather jacket and comfortably snug blue jeans. Ponytail flipped over his shoulder, he moved quickly to her side. And grabbed one of the cardboard boxes a woman was carrying.

"What's goin' on here?" he asked, with a hint of protectiveness.

"I've been sacked," she said, in a daze.

"What do ye mean sacked?" Chas exploded, his temper getting the better of him. "What fool idjit said that of her?"

"Chas, please, don't make it any worse than it already is," Marianne moaned. They had reached the front door, and the photojournalist was still hot under the collar about the whole thing. Here he had come to surprise Marianne pleasantly by picking her up from work. To find her being escorted out of the building with cardboard boxes of her stuff.

"I'm being let go," she said. "Termination of employment..." Chas gripped up the stack of boxes, forcefully pulling them off the luggage cart with a snort.

"Let's get out of here," Marianne sighed as the doors clanged shut behind them.

"Aye it's high time," Chas muttered. Marianne promptly sat on the front step, hugging her knees. Chas put the two boxes down, and slipped his arm around his love. Her body temperature dropped precipitously as she hugged against him.

"Musha it's no the end of the world." he soothed as she began to shake. "It's the end of mine," Marianne said, feeling the reality sink in. "That's the career then."

"No, but it's as bad as that!" she exploded. "You know how difficult it is to get jobs like this for a scientist like me?"

Chas hugged her even closer. "I have an idea. I may not be a scientist, but I do know it's hard t' find work nowadays. But don't ye despair. We'll sort this out... I promise..."

"You are remarkably too good to me," she sighed. And pushed back angry tears that threatened to form. A sick feeling rose in her stomach as the emptiness clouded her thoughts. "Damn these museums and their budgets," she spat.

Gently Chas raised the scientist to her feet. "Let's go now... easy... musha... let's get y' home nau..." he soothed, helping to pick up her boxed items. The other things such as lab journals and the lot would be sent to her house post haste they said.

Chas stacked her boxes on the rack of his motorcycle. Rather violently Marianne pulled at the elastic clips and yanked them over the cargo. AS she took her seat in the sidecar, and they slipped their helmets on, she glanced sidelong at the museum. Would she ever see it again? Chas rode past the Sphinx annex. Marianne took another glimpse at it, the emptiness continuing to consume her. A chilling numbness set in, washing out her anger. It seemed as if she were seeing a chapter in her life closing down.

First Rath and she had parted ways. And she slowly distanced herself from the Guardians of Rapses. Then she had met Chas, and slipped into a world of pubs and Irish intrigue as she discovered a side of San Francisco that she had not before. It was soon after that she had the strange visitation with the demonic Gargoyle in the museum... And here she was now. Unemployed. With the man she loved dearly, but with no means of support for herself. Dare she ask Chas for any more help? It seemed so hard to tell. Of course he would help her in any way he could. Yet she felt proud of her career, her independent life.

She sighed as Chas helped her move the boxes into her basement entrance. Cameron opened the door, and helped them. "Rum luck, sis," he sympathized. "I got the news as soon as I heard that board meeting. I mean to lodge a protest of that! They need a good chemist..."

Marianne sighed. Cam shot a concerned look to Chas as they wrestled her stuff inside his downstairs apartment. "But I assure you I'll do everything to help you Mary. Don't worry about the rent for the next few months... I'll..."

"You're a brick Cam," she sighed. "But somehow I don't want to owe you..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Mary," Cam said. "After all, I am your brother..."

"It will all work out, Musha," Chas assured her. With the two main men in her life on her side, how could she fail? Marianne grinned ruefully at this thought. It had taken a bit of doing for both to get along. But the fact that Chas was a living breathing man and not a 3500-year-old mummy did make it easier to explain than her previous love.

"It's just frightful the mess this is," Cameron muttered as they gathered in Marianne's apartment.

"I'll put the kettle on," Cameron offered.

"I think I need something with alcohol in it," she grumbled. "Chas, be a dear and get a Guinness... and make it two.... On second thought have we any whisky?"

"Easy now," Chas laughed softly. "It's no the end of the world..."

"Easy for you to say," she muttered. Gratefully she sipped the bitter ale. Chas joined her, sitting close beside her on the mission style sofa. Cameron selected a beverage, sitting across from the two in the easy chair. His close cropped blonde hair he ran a hand through as his gray eyes fixed upon the couple. She really was lucky to have found such a man as this fellow, he thought. Even if he was a bit rough, and Irish to boot. Still Cam had a thing about the Irish. Ancient prejudices. Considering he was half-Scots himself. Cameron almost went blind tracing the Celtic spirals on Chas shirt as they sipped in silence.

"What now?" Cameron asked her. "Surely the San Jose museum would have need for a scientist like you Sis... I know a fellow..."

"That's ridiculous," Cameron said. "Why you could..." A warning look from Chas stopped him. "Why do you want to move away?"

"If this is about the rent... don't worry, I can absorb it!" Cameron said. "Cam, you and I have lived together for a long time. It's time that you had your own place. We're thirty-one years old! You may be my little brother, but you have to live your own life!"

"If need be..." she sighed. "But I doubt the British museum is looking for scientists..."

"There's always New York," Chas offered softly. "Plenty of museums on the East Coast. And in most cities.... And there is also all of Europe itself..."

"I'd miss you," Cameron sighed. "But let's not cross bridges before we come to them, eh? Or burn them for that matter either..."

"I'll join ye in that metaphor," Chas said. "Mary? What do ye want t' do?" "I don't know..." she sighed. "I just don't know...

Mary slowly woke from a sleep. She lay there in her bed, pillow moist with tears. The phone was ringing, and it was early in the morning. Hastily she scrabbled to get the phone in the morning light. Her hand tipped a lamp, sending it flying onto the carpet. Cursing under her breath she finally clasped the phone and put it to her sleepy ear.

"H-hello..." she muttered. "I am trying to reach a Dr. Marianne Ellis," said a crisp voice at the end of the phone. "Mm, speaking," she muttered. "This is the human resources department at Gen-u-Tech. We received your resume from a placement service... and we would like you to come for an interview..."

"Gen-u-Tech?" she asked, rubbing her head.

"Yes... uh no." she stammered. And sent her glasses flying as she struggled to get out of bed.

A week later Marianne Ellis walked out of the door of Gen-u-Tech. It wasn't what she'd hoped for. Genetic research conjured up images of Dr. Moreau. It really wasn't the case, but their cloning project scared her. That man, who had interviewed her, had given her the creeps too. Dr. Anton Sevarious was a noted man in his field, but this just didn't seem right... She had told them she'd think about it. As Marianne wandered down the street she glanced left and right. It hadn't been too long ago that she'd been here in NYC on a different matter. That involved some strange creatures, as strange as Mummies.

"Hey lady, can you spare a dime?" asked a man as he slipped out of an office building. Marianne kept on walking.

"What's your hurry sister," said another, a woman as she stepped in Marianne's way. That gleam in their eyes stopped her cold. Instantly Marianne swung her briefcase into the woman's arms, stepping on her foot. The man lunged, but Marianne spun, her fist connecting into his jaw in a sharp uppercut. But then another two had joined them. They grasped Marianne's arms, pulling her back into an alley. Heart pounding she tried hard to think of what next to do...

As she muttered and wrestled to mind, she realized she didn't have the Egyptian bracelet in her hand. Worse, the gauntlet for her armor she had left behind in San Francisco! Already the evening was coming. Marianne struggled valiantly, screaming, "FIRE!" at the top of her lungs. Perhaps the noise would alert someone. She hated to play the maiden in distress, but foolishly she had forgotten her means of protection. Suddenly she heard a hiss that came as she saw a flash of steel. And a fast kick to one of the men as he spun around, swinging his chain. Marianne used the distraction to drop, and flip the two men holding her as she backed away. One good sharp kick to the groin of one, and she gripped her high heeled shoe. Marianne turned the heel up, slashing at the other's face with her pump. With spectacular results. He clutched his cheek, snarling. She then followed through with a knee to his stomach.

Another held a baseball bat. There was a bloodcurdling scream as a glistening arc sliced through the wood in one stroke, and the flat of the sword hit against the man's legs, cutting him down. A hand grabbed Marianne's, pulling her away as she was extracted from the alley. A long sword and a dirk swung in glistening arcs as Chas faced off against the two remaining thugs.

"Who do you think you are, sword boy? The highlander?" one joked.

"Let's see if he's immortal like that guy on TV!" the other laughed. But instead of attacking with his blades, Chas let fly with a kick. As one pulled a gun, his weapon slashed the muzzle, blooding the other's hand.

"Now git, ye amadons!" Chas growled, hooking the strap of Mary's briefcase over his sword arm. Behind him Mary put her shoe back on, still breathing in anticipation. Deciding it was better to flee than fight, the thugs took off, leaving their friends behind, out cold.

"Mary, are ye all right?" Chas asked, swinging both weapons as they vanished in a blaze of energy beneath his jacket.

"They scared the devil out of me, if that's what you want to know..." she breathed. His hand closed on her shoulder as they moved quickly out of the alley. "What... in the name of... are you..."

"Doing in the middle of New York?" he asked. "I found yer hotel, and they said ye were here... 'Twas a simple matter indeed t' track ye down..."

"You could have called," Marianne sighed, as she struggled to fix her hair up into its French braid again. Strands had worked themselves loose in the struggle. They rode upon a bus, headed uptown to Mary's hotel.

"Yer welcome fr me saving yair life," he said.

"I'm sorry, luv," she sighed. "I really do appreciate it... but it was a surprise seeing you just show up like some dratted knight in shining armor..."

"Face it, ye don't hate me rescuing you as much as yer letting on," Chas said, nudging her in the side. At his touch she jumped, for it was that spot just under one rib that was most ticklish.

"Hullo, that's not fair," she squealed, as he began to tickle her a bit. All the events of the past few minutes rushed away at this simple childish game. "You louse!" she laughed, unable to catch her breath. "I'll get you for this..."

"I k'n hardly wait," he chuckled, as her hand slipped under his jacket, to a spot just beneath his arm. It was his turn to laugh. His baritone voice, deeper than Rath's, echoed in musical laughter throughout the bus. Yet few noticed, for the wailing children and the chatter of people on cellphones drowned it out. A few amused smiles fell on the couple as they tickled each other mercilessly.

"So what really brings you here?" she asked him. "Did you have to twist your sister's arm or something?"

"Hmm, she sent me here on a story," he said. "T' renew some business contacts... fr' don't forget that she and I lived here a while ago. Seeing as yer looking her fr a job, I thought..."

"That was sweet of you to come after me," she said. "I know that's the real reason you are here... so what do you owe Shelly this time?"

"I don't think she'd take t' being called that nickname," Chas smiled. "Where are you staying?"

"But what about 'being near your family?'," Marianne asked him.

"That can wait fr' now..." he said, taking her hand. "So what's the story about the big interview?"

"To tell you the truth, it leaves me a bit cold," she sighed. "A lot of genetic research there."

"No Chas," she shook her head at his weak joke. "But it's not what I want to do... I want to keep doing my analytical... but not as a QC chemist... or just anything else... I just..."

"Xanatos?" she asked. "I think they were the ones who got me this. I wouldn't put it past Fox to have 'convinced' them that I was a good scientist for the job. But no. Even though they said they were opening a new facility in three months in England... and there was a chance I could be going back there..."

"Where in England?" Chas asked. "A small town, in the Midlands. So quiet I've never heard of it... and I'm from England..."

"How about yer Da?" he asked.

She said this with a sigh. "He had Gran t' thank for that," she muttered, slipping into a bit of Scots burr, which evaporated when she coughed. "Granda was a Londoner... married a Welsh coalminer's daughter. Funny, eh? Met during the War..." A faraway look came over Marianne's face as she told Chas about her family. She had not done much of this before, respecting his need for secrecy at first. But he had waited till the right time for her to reveal her own heritage. And now seemed the right time. She went on speaking of it as they returned to her hotel room, and sat quietly on her double bed simply talking.

A week later found Marianne hard at work in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Having taken a bit of a pay cut she now ran a carbon 14 machine in house. It was a busy job, but rewarding. She remembered how Chas had brought her a sack of groceries to that new apartment that Xanatos had rented her. And they had a small dinner together. The Upper West Side apartment was rather ostentatious, furnished with lavish modern pieces, and tall paintings that David Xanatos so loved. Where their friends often stayed, if they were not liking the Castle.

"Don't worry about the first month's rent," Xanatos had told her. "Just enjoy the view..." She didn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Even though Xanatos often had his own agenda for doing something philanthropic. She was just coming down the steps of the MOMA when she saw the sun beginning to set. All around her bustled the night of the City, as it never slept. She walked along the edge of Central Park, simply absorbing the sights and sounds of the City singing into the evening. There came a sound of something softly gliding, as she glimpsed up. Winged shapes passed over the face of the Moon. And she smiled. The last missing piece of her new life had been filled. A mystery to which she was privy.

Moving into the Park, she knew a secret path that was a shortcut to her apartment building. Although Chas had warned her against walking in the City alone at night, she strangely didn't feel at risk. Even when a trio of dark shapes suddenly appeared out of the forest, by the carousel. Eyes blazed white-hot fire in their faces. She boldly strode up to the trio.

"Hey there!" came a friendly voice from the slender reddish figure, folding his wings. "Long time no see!"

"What brings ya to the big apple?" asked the largest of the three. "You're the last person we expected to see here!" came the highest pitched voice. "Brooklyn, Lexington... Broadway," she smiled. "You're a sight for sore eyes... how is everything? Goliath, Angela, Elisa?" The trio surrounded her, clasping her hands and asking a million questions at once. They all knew her as a friend to Elisa and Goliath. Thus she was a friend of the Clan.

"One at a time chaps," she laughed.

"You really shouldn't be out alone this time of night," Brooklyn told her.

"Yeah," Broadway added.

"We saw you walking alone, and were keeping an eye on you, just in case some thugs were going to jump you," Lexington said. "But we're glad to know you're okay..."

"Where were you three yesterday," she laughed.

"What! What happened yesterday?" Brooklyn asked, eyes beginning to flash with anger. She told them of her encounter with some street gangs. And the timely rescue by her boyfriend.

"Good thing he showed up," Lexington said to her. "But why are you here in Manhattan?"

"Thought you lived in 'Frisco," Brooklyn said.

"C'mon let's give you a lift home," Brooklyn offered. All three of them surrounded her as they walked her back to the edge of the park. She gripped Brooklyn about the neck as he climbed the nearest building's side. And closed her eyes. Soon she was flying through the air on the slender Gargoyle's back. Lexington and Broadway dropped into formation at his left and right, gently soaring in the nighttime breezes. Till they alit on her balcony, and she fished out her keys to let herself in the 20th floor suite.

Broadway sniffed the air as she climbed through the window. "You're welcome to come in and have a cup of tea... I wouldn't mind..."

"You don't have to..." Broadway started.

"It's no bother really…"

"Come to think of it I am a little hungry," Broadway said, with a cautious look from Brooklyn. "One thing, I hope you like treacle... I've loads of it left when I tried to make it for Chas..." The three cautiously slipped in. "Man this is sure a ritzy digs," Broadway muttered. His eyes fell hungrily on the sets of bookcases loaded with her books. Lexington glimpsed her computer set up nearby. "Wow, what model is that?"

"May I look at it..." Lexington volunteered, as he moved quickly to the small device. Before long he was lifting it, sniffing it as he turned it this way and that.

"Tell me where the stuff is, and I'll set up the refreshments...." Broadway offered. "You've had a rough day..."

"You sure have it nice here, Ms. Ellis," Brooklyn commented. "Do you mind if I ask... how you can afford to live here? Elisa said something about Fox..."

"Yes," she said. "I tried to tell them I didn't need their help, but you know how they are when they have their mind's made up."

"Yeah," Lexington said, shaking his head. He heard the clangs and bangs coming from the kitchen as Broadway hunted for the cocoa. Before long he had been the one to actually set things up for tea and hot chocolate. Lexington was busily pulling the CD out of her computer as he fiddled with the ejection mechanism. Brooklyn stood near the open window, as if ever vigilant.

"Brooklyn, do you chaps know anyone named MacBeth?" she asked. Brooklyn's ears pricked up at the sound of the name. Lexington looked up from his puttering. In one clawed hand he held a screwdriver, the other clutched her CD-ROM.

"Yeah. He's okay with us now," the gargoyle Second in command said. "Actually he stood up for us on TV..."

"Yeah with those dumb Quarrymen everywhere," Broadway said from the kitchen. "You should have heard him calling that one Assistant DA a witch!"

Lexington grinned as he slipped the component back into her computer. Marianne marveled as the CD door opened and shut without sticking. "You really have a way with machines, don't you?"

"Who wants marshmallows?" Broadway asked, shuffling in with a tray of mugs steaming hot. "Have a seat, and take the load off," Brooklyn said, as he pulled up a footstool for Marianne. The others perched on sofas and fine chairs. Lexington continued to work his own brand of magic on her PC.

"Well, to tell you the truth, Elisa asked us... to keep an eye on you..." Brooklyn said, voice lowered. "Yeah. She was worried you might feel... nervous... since you told her about that street gang attacking you on your first day," Broadway said. "I wish we were there..."

"It's quite all right. Chas was there," she said. "I know. He really kicked some tail," Brooklyn said, helping himself to some of Marianne's pastries. "Did he really pull his weapons on them?"

"Hah I would have loved to see that," Broadway smiled. "Did he haul the bums in?"

"They rabbited," Broadway muttered. "Darn!" She chuckled at his TV cop slang. And for the first time didn't feel quite so lost. For part of the unique mystery of Elisa's friends was here. When they had finished their cocoa they set out to leave.

"Take care, and do stop by again," Marianne said. "Give Goliath and Elisa my thanks!"

"Take it easy," the Trio waved as they alit one by one off her balcony.

A whole month had passed, and Marianne slowly settled into her new life. She had briefly gone back home to send her belongings to her new address. It was a bittersweet time for her, leaving the old behind. But as she saw Cameron's wistful face as she boarded her flight, she sighed. It was necessary. Something awaited her there. And she had to go. To leave the Mummies, the Museum, and her old life far behind.

Little did she know of what awaited her around the corner? One particular day she walked home from her museum job, groceries in hand when she accidentally bumped into a museum patron walking up the stairs. "Oh, excuse me ma'am," came the Scottish accented voice. Marianne looked into his face, seeing the silvered hair and beard of a familiar countenance.

"MacBeth," she whispered.

"It's Lennox MacDuff here," he whispered back, lips close to her ear. "And what pray tell would ye be doin' in the City?"

"I might ask you the same question... Mr. MacDuff," she said. "I happen to work here..."

"And I happen to live here, not far..." he answered, taking the groceries in his arm. "A pleasure to see you again, lass..." His powerful hand gripped hers, and she felt a thrill of excitement in his touch. This was crazy! He was once an enemy, when last they met. Yet he had proved to be under the influence of Morgan le Fay's enchantment from afar!

"So ye live here, eh?" he asked. "AS I recall, you had quite a position in San Francisco..."

"It's a long story," she sighed. "And not one for the open air..."

"Er, I don't know..." she said, and felt herself blushing a bit. How silly! She had a boyfriend! Chas! Who was perhaps this man's old enemy! Whatever had passed between the Erin born reporter and MacBeth, she shuddered to think. For they had met with intense hatred that comes with centuries of feud.

"I... don't think that would be a good idea," she said. "I am meeting... someone..."

"Hmm, yair man no doubt," MacBeth said, a thoughtful look on his face as he stroked his beard.

"Lass, whatever makes you so suspicious?" he asked, and smiled a most disarming smile. She shook her head. "For that is something betwixt him and me. And need not involve the present. It will be settled in its own time. And in an honorable fashion, as gentleman should. Not in games... I come to you as one who fought by your side... and wishes to greet you and welcome you with his hospitality..."

"Hmm, very well," she said. "Perhaps... if you happen to drop by the museum again..."

"It's a living," she shrugged, as he hailed her a taxi for her ride home. And bade her farewell. Marianne kicked herself at the sudden shivers that came over her. Shame! She was in a relationship! Lately it seemed many men were attracted to her! Even older ones such as this MacBeth! He was attractive and debonair. Mischievous, and mysterious. Much like her own love. Perhaps that was the appeal. What had MacBeth seen over the centuries?

She was just getting in the door when she came across Chas. He was waiting for her, as he often did lately, carrying a plastic sack, which probably had some ingredients for a wonderful dinner. She felt shame flush her face as she realized she had spoken to his ancient enemy. Marianne thanked goodness that Chas would not read her mind without being asked. Still he was a bit suspicious as she said little, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Are ye all right, Mary?" he asked. "Ye look as if ye've seen a ghost..."

"Just... a long day," she said evasively. "I'm dead tired... and ravenous..."

"All the same why I should come," he said, handing her the sack, which appeared to have frozen beef, fresh cabbage, and onions. "There's a three course dinner fr' two in this here... and all that separates us from it is a good hour..."

"Sounds wonderful..." she said, unlocking the twin dead bolts as she swung free the door. Modern furniture greeted them, and the smell of fresh vanilla and cinnamon. Mary's favorite sachet was poured into a small bowl near the entry table. Fresh air seeped in through a half-opened window, wafting the scent into their noses. A nice combination to come home too.

"Ye've added yuir touch to the place right enou," he said, helping her remove her coat. "Yes. Amazing what a few things can do. I'm sorry I've been distant. It's just that the museum is taking so much time..."

"As it should," he smiled, with a wistful look in his eyes. Did he suspect something had cast a pall on their cozy relationship? What would he say if she had mentioned MacBeth? "Have ye been practicing what I taught ye?" he asked, as he wandered into her kitchen. She carried the fixings for dinner to keep up with him.

"That wuild take a long time indeed," he joked with her. "Even so I've seen the fire in your eyes. Yer a born warrior. A fighter with the blood of Hielanders in your veins."

"Well, you admitted yourself you weren't the master of swordplay. That perhaps once I mastered what you taught me..." Chas sighed deeply. "I don't think it would be a guid idea to force so much so soon. I don't... want... to..."

"You don't want me to learn? What is that?" she asked, a bit angry with him.

"Chas, what is going on here?" she asked. Slowly he took her hands in his, and kissed them.

"But what about being near your family?" she asked.

"Mary, you are like family to me," he said softly. "And there are some things that I would share with you that I cannot with Michelle, or Mum or Da. I've been looking for work here... it won't come overnight... and it may be a few months before I can come out her for permanent..."

"Hmm. Maybe," he said. "We'd best be moving along... there's a concert at the Lincoln center I thought I'd take you to see..."

"Not tonight Chas," she sighed. "I'm sorry... but I've been overdoing it... enjoy yourself..."

"As ye wish," he said, kissing her hand as he left. Leaving Mary feeling a bit distanced at his confused demeanor.

Laughter ensued from the lofty halls of Castle Moray. It was early fall, the harvest having been taken in little by little by the toiling of the serfs under the Clan's protection. Frost began to chill the air, precipitating on every leaf and sheaf that was not already safely gathered in. Among the shorn fields ran the road to the Castle, splitting the fields in twain as it wound around the hillside towards the cliff. Many a traveler passed by this way in Summer for Tournament, and Spring for Maying and such. Still they tolerated the fires of Beltain secretly, knowing many of the old religion still sneaked away to practice such pagan rites. Many a druid still crept among the trees to do their own rituals, unmolested. There was still powerful magic in the countryside, that even the new religion brought a few generations ago, could not ignore or suppress without uprising from some of the powerful Clans. MacBeth stood at Gruoch's side, thumbing his chin thoughtfully as he watched his lad playing.

It was another such day free of battle, free of danger save those of the disruptive clan feuds that might erupt without his mediation. Always something shuffled the powers amongst the various Clans and alliances in Scotland. Then it was either King or counselor that put it to rights, by his reason, or by sword if need be. "Moray is still beautiful this time, beloved," Gruoch cooed into his ear, and he sighed.

"Indeed I far prefer it to the usual pageantry of Scone," he muttered his affirmation. Here at Moray they could relax a bit, far from the usual hustling at the main seat of power.

"Has been ten years past since we quit these halls, and I miss them so," she sighed back. "Aye, my wife... I too long for simpler times... but think of the many days we have not had worry of battle. And I am at your side as I always wished. I grow sick of war."

"One only wishes the clans themselves would behave," she whispered, lowering her voice. "There's no denying there's no love lost between Stuart and others," he muttered. It was a tenuous peace holding Scotland together. Yet Moray, his ancestral clan, held much wealth and power, keeping the smaller clans in line. And now that Moray was fused with the main holdings of the King, it remained his chief duty to keep Scotland strong and united. For if it fractured, it could fall and the pieces would take all God's wisdom to glue together. Suddenly there came a clattering of armored feet upon the stairs. Gruoch drew in her breath sharply as her father and several other retainers moved into their chambers.

"Do forgive the intrusion, Sire, but there has been a ghastly accident from one of the outer Clan's properties..." Grouch's father Bodhe, and MacBeth's steward huffed.

"Father... I thought ye were out t' hunt..." she said.

"And what prey we found... that found us..." muttered one of the others, Constantine.

"Hush lad," Bodhe muttered. "What is this... that has found you?"

"What?" MacBeth gasped. "My son's friend, and cousin Hamish down?"

"Dragon?" asked MacBeth. Gruoch shivered. "But we have not seen scale nor wing of such in Moray for centuries!"

"Not to question, but my son had sought one for his spurs, and there were none to be found in all of Moray," MacBeth muttered. "True, but they saw it the same. And the clawmarks have said it so..."

"Don't even say that!" MacBeth snapped. "You know we are allied with Demona's clan... and she is my chief advisor. If she were to even suspect you accuse one of hers..."

"Forgive me... but it is a valid query..." Gruoch said to her husband. "Gargoyle claws and Dragon claws. Can they not look the same?"

"We need one who knows Dragons and their ways..." MacBeth mused.

Later, MacBeth told Demona of the news. She landed, and paced about the battlements as the Moon rose overhead. "Fools! If they cannot tell the work of a Gargoyle from a Dragon..."

"Please, it is not their fault for their ignorance." MacBeth pleaded. "But none of us has seen a Dragon for generations..."

"Hmm, pity them. But I tell you it is not a Gargoyle who would do this... for all the Gargoyles still alive in Scotland are known to me!" she hissed, eyes turning red. "I know... but I need your advice... how do I deal with a Dragon?"

"Why must you humans see fit to conquer and deal with those that may need to survive?" Demona asked him. "I swore to protect Scotland and all her inhabitants... if this Dragon is a threat..."

"No... that is not what I meant..." he sighed.

"I know you do not mean otherwise. But I must be ever wary of those that destroy my clan," she sighed. "What have you seen of Dragons?"

"There are many sorts. And they are most cleverer than most Humans..." she muttered. "My kind has had many dealings with them. And not all are favorable. But be warned, they will stop at nothing to survive, as my clan would..."

At the high castle, MacBeth sat fretful upon his throne. There had been more tales of attacks, and even the advice of those magicians he had sought had proved useless. He'd even visited the forests in the hope he could find those practices of the Goddess religion, for who better would know the ways of such creatures then they? But such kept their words from Christian men, lest their precious ways be forever taken from them. So he sat, watching the local Bards that had since come through, relating their tales of Song for a meal or a weeks lodging. Most of the minstrels had proved to know the same songs and tales he had known as a boy.

"I bid you greetings, most High King," came the newest voice. "I beg of your hospitality, for I bear tales from Eire, emerald isle... by way of Moray, and ask that I may entertain you this night..."

"Do sit by the fire, and keep us in thrall," Gruoch asked, her breath drawing in sharply. One musician seemed the same as another, save this newest that had come to take his turn at the hearth, a strange fellow that looked of the old Goddess Religion. He could glimpse the blue wode upon the wrists, that he himself had taken as a last vestige to the old ways, and the peculiar absence of cross or Christian symbol upon the man's person. Not unusual in itself, but the peculiar accent with which he uttered his song smacked of Eire. Many bards trained in that tradition had that lilt, and an almost spellbinding edge to their voice. Gruoch herself sat transfixed as those most blue eyes flashed with delight, holding her under what must be witchcraft.

"My wife, what ails you?" he asked, moving her elbow.

"What... pray forgive me Husband, but I was elsewhere... the music is captivating..." A twinkle came within the eyes of the Bard, as he finished his song. A sigh of sadness came as he ceased.

"You, come here!" MacBeth said. "Good sir, I would ask you to come closer, and tell us more of your land..."

"You do me much honor, most high King..." the musical voice replied, with a slight laugh. Long raven hair fell about his shoulders as a black waterfall. He wore no beard, his face rounded with youth, inconsistent with the eyes that held so much wisdom. Indeed they seemed the slightest shade off from the blue he originally thought. Almost a green. The golden Torque about his neck had the heads of two dragons facing each other. Not unusual for a heathen... but when he glimpsed the symbol of the Dragon amongst the man's harp ornamentation....

"Your song, of Dragons..." he muttered. "Had me most interested... since there has been no Dragon in Moray for centuries..."

"Would that it was true?" the man asked, eyes winking. "For I have heard otherwise..."

"Indeed," MacBeth said. "And it is obviously of interest to you..."

"You see, there are not many that know of Dragons, save those who have won their spurs by their quest..." MacBeth spoke. "And those of us are few and far between..."

"Aye... for we don't know how many there are..." MacBeth said calmly. "I'd be reminding you a lance isn't the only way to stop a Dragon," the Bard said coolly. "Be it so, but I am sworn to protect my people, those under my reign... and already one of my men has taken ill..."

"Perhaps I may help him," the Bard said. "If I would be permitted to see him..."

"I say slay it!" came a voice, which MacBeth silenced with a raised hand. "And risk your life? No wouldn't it be far better to find another way? There is more than one way to deal with a Dragon... if you know how... that would leave a wife with her brave husband there to bounce his children on his knee, and warm her bed with his presence..."

"Well spoken," Gruoch muttered. MacBeth didn't fail to notice this. Nor the fact that every other maiden and matron in the hall had their eyes on the Bard as well.

Steel clanged on steel. Sweat poured and steamed up her glasses. Mary panted, as if for her very life. She spun about; both hands clutching the heavy long sword as she arched it over and met his blade from behind. "Guid!" came Lennox's voice. "But never break your attention, lass!"

Mary spun, slicing air as she inhaled another breath. Her eyes fixed firmly into those of Lennox MacDuff. Switching his sword to one hand, he eyed her thoughtfully, matching his pace to hers. Underfoot the glossy waxed floor squeaked as she set into a fencing pose. "No, this is no fencing!" he reminded her. "Dinnae think like that... this is real broadsword fighting... from the most ancient of days... look up! Keep yuir back straight... And keep yair opponent off balance..." His next arc swung, harshly beating against her weapon. Mary despaired as her sword sprung out of her bruised hand. She saw his next stroke, swinging close. Screaming in fear she threw up her foot, to kick his wrist. MacBeth grunted, backing away as Marianne ducked his next pass, and threw her into his midsection. Angrily she shoved him down, grabbing his sword arm with all her strength. A feral scream erupted from her throat, from far beneath her rational thought. "Easy lass!" MacBeth said, pushing her off him. "Lesson's over! Take a breath now..."

"I am sorry," she said. "But I hate... being defenseless..."

"Where did that come from?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "For a moment there it felt as if I was fighting a savage!"

"No harm done," he said, brushing himself off as Mary picked up her sword from the floor. "Ye've a lot of anger and instinct. Ye got to channel it, lass. And it was grand that you kept fighting even though ye were disarmed. A true warrior does not let the lack of a weapon stop them. But ye need more skill. And then ye'll not need to resort to throwing your opponent down with brute strength."

Marianne saw the look of pride beaming bright in those blue eyes. And the thrill of adrenaline pounded in her veins. She felt so alive at that moment when she'd hit him down. That thrill filled her with shame and guilt. No, I'm supposed to hate fighting... why do I like it? What is happening to me?

"Why is there that look of doubt in yair eyes, lass?" he asked her, pulling off his fencing mask as he came to her side. "I only speak truth..."

"I thank you, Lennox..." she said softly, catching her breath. "But I still feel such confusion inside..."

"But you wanted nothing but to destroy me," she said, looking at the floor. "And here I am taking lessons from you!"

"I... have to go..." she said hastily, handing him back the sword as she carefully wiped it off. "No, keep it. Lest ye loose your fighting edge..."

"A good blade. Take it. As a student..." Reluctantly she took the weapon as he sheathed it in its scabbard. There was no magic. It was just an ordinary sword, albeit a relic from Lord only knows how many centuries ago. And rushed quickly out of Lennox' apartment as she felt the electricity pass from his hand to hers.

Marianne arrived back at her apartment late. Blood flushed her face as she fumbled with her keys, promptly dropping them. "Confound it!" she cursed, as she felt the sword thump in its casing too. Heart pounding she kicked open the door. Had to get in. had to look busy? She slipped the sword under the couch, and sat upon it, breathing heavily. What was going on? He was he instructor! But why would he give her a sword? All these doubts and confusions flustered her all the more. When the doorbell rang she jumped two feet out of the chair. She opened the door, to see Chas there, a smile upon his face. It was too much, as she felt a bit dizzy. The smile melted into a look of concern as the fresh bouquet he carried was forgotten, and his slender hands gripped her. "Mary, whatever is the matter?" he asked her. Soothing warmth filled her arms as his healing energies moved into her body. He guided her to the sofa and sat her down.

"Nothing," she breathed heavily. And felt quite ill.

"Having a bit of a workout," she said, wiping sweat from her forehead. "I had forgotten you were coming over, or I would have been here sooner..."

"No harm done," he grinned. For a moment she settled down. Till his sharp eye noticed something poking out from under the couch. Mary kicked it back with her heel as she grabbed the bouquet from his hands.

"I insist," he smiled, kissing her hand. And took both of her hands in his. "I've news..."

"You first," he said.

"I've been offered a chance... to do some traveling... for a unique trip... to England..." she breathed. "Oh..." he said. "And when... would this be?"

"That's wonderful," Chas says, gripping her hands. "And I... have news as well, and some important questions to ask you..." His foot brushed against something, and he looked down. A strap protruded from under the couch. Hastily Mary pushed it back with her heel, in desperation. His eyes questioned as he glanced down. "What's wrong... what is that... it looks like a camera case strap or a gym bag..."

"Er, it's nothing, something I'm keeping for a friend..." she hastily said, and her face flushed. But those blue eyes clouded over, and she felt the blood in her face.

"Mary... what is that?" he asked, and he pulled the strap as he extracted a casing for a weapon. Instead of the gym bag he'd expected. "I..." she stammered. Chas quickly undid the lacing of the package before she could stop him. For how could she hide it from him, who was a blacksmith, and who had make weapons? And he whom could tell a blade's condition on sight would certainly tell a wrapped sword with the same ease. He held up the scabbard, his fingers tracing over it. "This... is a fine blade indeed... but why..."

"I... needed to practice," she said, face hot as she stammered out an explanation. "And. I didn't want to use Wavedancer for a mere... sparring..."

"It's... a loan..." she said, not sure of how much to tell him. He drew the blade, and ran his finger over the edge. Picking up the sword he balanced it in his hand, testing the weight, and reversed the pommel as he stared down its length.

"This... alloy isn't modern... yet it's steel... but forged by human hand... and the grain is..." His eyes grew gray as his jaw clenched. Slowly he sheathed the blade in its scabbard again. Mary winced at his angry stare. Like a volcano waiting to erupt, there was dead silence, and calmness in his frame that scared her. "There is only one place you could this sword." he said, voice low. Ice laced each syllable. "Tell me the truth Mary, all of it..."

Not able to look him in the eyes, she took the weapon from him. "He offered to teach me," she stammered. "And you... I need to be the best... I can... for my mission..."

"Don't you know what this man is capable of?" Chas' voice said, in that low quiet tone that stabbed into her even worse then it would if he had yelled. "It's not what you think," Mary said, seeing the accusation in his eyes. "Nothing happened..."

"Mary, he's a betrayer!" Chas voice rose, the fire present. His raised voice made her flinch. "I need to learn!" Mary shouted back. "There is only so much you can teach me! And when you aren't here... and enemies may strike at any time!"

"He slew one to whom I had given trust!" Chas cried. "And I cannot believe you would ask him of all people as a teacher!"

"I must be able to effectively fight! Can't you put your differences behind you! He saved our lives, and proved himself to the Gargoyles! He is an ally of King Arthur!" Mary protested, looking him straight in those eyes, which were crimson by now.

"It's not yer business to worry about that!" he suddenly snapped. "I forbid ye to see him!"

"Excuse me?" she asked, her voice cold. "He's corrupted your mind! Using you to get to me! Don't ye see it?"

"Then fine!" Mary spits. "Who are you to judge what is right and wrong for me?"

"I am the man y' love!" he retorted, the orange glare like fire in his gaze. "And I don't want t' see ye get hurt! Curse it! Y' have another responsibility to yourself, and to me!" he exploded, grabbing both her shoulders and shaking her. For a moment it looked as if he'd hit her. But she knew he would no stoop so low. "You owe it to me to remain true to both!" he shouted.

"Get your hands off me, or so help me..." she hissed, pushing away. Anger boiled up, hot and wicked. How dare he, this presumptuous self-righteous prig! To presume ownership of her life, her destiny! "How dare you presume such a thing!" she cried. "Who are you... that says this! To think I am cheating on you.. You jealous..."

Chas fell silent. While she felt the next angry words flow before she could stop them, "You're not my father, my brother, or my husband! What gives you the right to tell me how I should live my life?"

Her words hit him sharply, for his angry face evaporated into shock. The eyes became a deep shade of blue, holding sadness and more hurt than she could imagine. Angry tears moistened them, as they regarded her. Mary felt a piece of her die in that instant. And a barrier closed off her surge of feelings in the next. Separation came in the eyes, as if she could no longer reach him. "If that's the way it is, is it?" he said quietly. The crestfallen look stabbed at her heart. His eyes became deep indigo as he turned away from her. Stooped over he left the room in icy silence.

"I suppose it is," she returned, voice low and flat.

"Then so be it," he replied, voice dead. Hot anger flared in Mary as she slammed the door behind him. "How dare he!" she cried. "How dare he!" Again and again she screamed these words, like a mantra. Till her sounds came into the empty apartment with no answer. Sobbing she buried her face into the sofa, banging the floor with her fist.

"Stand back, men!" MacBeth shouted to his retainers. Again the Dragon reared, spewing its green gas upon them. Coughing and choking they fell back. Slowly it moved, to cover the entrance to the cave.

"Back you beastie!" shouted Constantine. "IN the name of God get back!" Roaring the Dragon swiped, as Constantine moved forwards. A strange urge seized him, as he held his lance, the reigns of his weapon in one hand. The lance point danced, as the Dragon's eyes followed the bright skewer.

"Fall back you fool!" MacBeth shouted. Suddenly everything happened at once. For Constantine's lance moved, stabbing into the beast's flank as his horse reared. There came an angry bellow as the Dragon reared, green gas belching into the man's face. Constantine's horse whinnied, falling over as the gas stunned him.

"No!" MacBeth shouted. "Get out of there ye idjit!" There came a swat of claws that easily brushed the young Knight aside. And he sailed into the bushes. Angrily the Dragon flapped its wings, a mighty wind slashing against the party. Their horses reared, sending the men back in fear. Galloping they vanished, stopping only to pick up the wounded and fallen. "That spawn of hell!" cried one of the men. "You fools, it's going to get us now!" shouted Bodhe.

"Fall back!" There came a loud roar from overhead, as they saw a jade and emerald shape pass over the sun. A loud blast of fire singed trees ahead, cutting off their retreat as they hastened.

"Fly! Fly!" MacBeth screamed. Only when they reached the gates of Moray did they stop. Constantine had lost much blood as MacBeth urged everyone in. "Drop the portcullis... it's a Dragon attack!" The Dragon whirled, slashing with its tail as it circled. There came a hiss and whoosh of flame that narrowly missed. And then winging and dipping, it flew quickly away. "Don't come back, monster!" MacBeth shook his fist at it.

"You can't go on like this," Elisa Maza told Marianne as she took aim at the paper square, 15 yards distant. Mary gritted her teeth as she pulled the trigger of her 0.22 beretta. With a flash and a pop the little bullet slammed it's way into the target downrange. Shot after shot she placed, till the magazine was spent. Elisa took her place after Mary, clicked off the safety of her 0.38. And aimed with all precision. Behind her plastic safety glasses her eyes narrowed. And unloaded the whole magazine in seconds. "Your turn...." Marianne selected her revolver, a 38 smith and Wesson, a reproduction that she carefully kept in her safe when company was over. Taking a deep breath, she aimed carefully.

"That's not good," Elisa said.

"I feel totally rotten," Marianne sighed, firing another round. One bullet spanged off the floor. Putting down the empty gun, Marianne felt her jaw clench. "I just can't think..."

"I know it did! But MacBeth told me himself that this had nothing to do with... oh the blazes with it. I'll never see him again. And it's all my stupid pigheadedness..." Her face crumpled yet again. And she turned her back to Elisa, tears dripping down her cheeks. Lately she seemed to do nothing but cry.

Elisa took her friend in her arms and hugged her close. "Now look, you have to get on with your life," she said. "I know this hurts. But you have a career, and a very special destiny. A responsibility. Maybe he's not willing to be part of it... but you sound like you were only acting in duty. Being a cop, I know it's hard to choose..."

"Or if I go after him," Marianne said resolutely. "What do you mean?"

"I'll ask them myself," Marianne smiled.

"You fools, don't ye naff idjits know what ye've done?" Cassidy shouted as they limped in. Constantine wheezed and choked, gasping as blood dripped from a chest wound. "You speak course indeed, Eire one!" snapped the Steward. "Can ye help him?"

"Bloody fool," MacBeth snapped. "He just had to take the beast on himself!"

"What?" Cassidy exploded. "Why did you provoke it?"

"It was attacking a farming field, and we hastened to stop it!" MacBeth shouted. "Ever closer it comes to Moray... why we trapped it before the cave..."

"Trapped it?" Cassidy questioned, raising a dark eyebrow. Slowly he examined Constantine, pulling off the armor to look at the wound. Expertly he applied a mixture of herbs and poultice, stanching the bleeding to a halt. Taking a strange dust he breathed it into the man's gasping mouth. Constantine stopped heaving, and turned on his side, hurling into a basin. "He'll be all right. No thanks to his foolishness," Cassidy finally said to the waiting group. "Why are you so sharp, Cassidy?" MacBeth asked him. "One of my men was wounded..."

"Because ye provoked it!" Cassidy countered. "I warned ye... that dragon is a mother... protecting its nest... which was most likely in that cave!"

"Its... lair?" MacBeth asked.

"Yes..."

"You must give me time... I can stop it... but it will take time... please I beg of you... if you want your men to live you must..."Cassidy pleaded with them.

"All right. One more day. But if it kills another subject, so help me, I won't hesitate to stop it!" MacBeth hissed, turning as he left Constantine to revive in the Bard's care.

"Bloody fools," Cassidy muttered. More vigorously then necessary he slapped the herb-laden sponges to the fallen knight's chest.

Marianne was just putting another carefully folded shirt into her suitcase when she heard a soft tapping at her glass. Turning, she moved to the night darkened window. Two white eyes blazed behind the panel, after she raised the blind. There came another soft scratching. Marianne swung open the deadbolt, sighing with relief, "You scared the life out of me for a moment... the pair of you..."

"Sorry, we just thought we'd stop by..." said Brooklyn.

"Yeah, we were in the neighborhood..."added Lexington.

"Come in, it's a bit chilly," Marianne said, swinging open the door.

Brooklyn and Lexington moved into the warmly lit space. "Heard you were leaving," Brooklyn muttered, as his sharp eyes took in the suitcases and trunks.

"First thing tomorrow," she sighed.

"England, huh?" the slender red gargoyle said as Lexington closed the window behind them.

"Sounds cool," Lexington piped in. "What exactly will you be doing there?"

"Restoration work," she said, sitting down on her easy chair. Lexington perched on the arm of the sofa, Brooklyn upon her hassock. His thin arms folded across his knees in a classic gargoyle pose. "Also, there are some personal things I thought I'd sort out over there... I might not be back for a while..."

"Visit your parents?" Brooklyn asked. "Yes... I... just need to get away... there's just too much..."

"Hey, we get it," Brooklyn said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Just don't forget about us, okay?"

"How could I forget about you chaps," she sniffed. "You've been wonderful friends..."

"Come's with the protecting part," Brooklyn said.

"I don't suppose, anyone's heard anything," she murmured.

"Uh nope," Lexington said. "Matt's buddies didn't show up anything yet. And we haven't' heard from Angela. She, Broadway, and Hudson were going to Avalon to visit Princess Kathryn and Tom..."

"Lucky people," Brooklyn muttered.

"Fifteen rookery sisters," Lexington sighed. "Anyway they said they'd ask if he's been seen there..."

"Good of them," Marianne murmured, as she started to get up. But Brooklyn was already on his way to the kitchen ahead of her. "Coffee?"

"A bit late for that..." she sighed, hugging her knees much like Brooklyn had done. "Sometimes being in love is the worst experience anyone can go through..."

"You're not kidding," Brooklyn said, as he came back with a bag of chips and some dip. "Especially when the one you love... is with somebody else..."

"Angela, huh?" she asked. "Angela," Lexington nodded. "And we're stuck with Xanatos at the castle with reruns..."

"Hope I'm not boring you guys," she laughed.

Brooklyn well knew the downcast look in those pretty eyes, even though Marianne was trying bravely to hide it. It mirrored his own, when he walked in on Broadway and Angela that one night in the library. "Parting is such sweet sorrow," he muttered again. Indeed the room had gone silent, for Lexington suddenly pulled on his arm. Marianne hunched her knees into her chest much as they once remembered Tom doing years ago. So like a small child she seemed, ironic considering she was older then their friend Elisa perhaps.

Brooklyn perched on her chair arm, laying a claw upon her shoulders, "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah... are you all right? You kinda zoned out there for a moment..." Lexington added, perching at her feet. How odd it seemed for these ancient creatures to speak in American slang.

"I'm terribly sorry," Marianne drew in her breath, feeling the waves of despair wash over her once more. "I was just thinking about how he... used to make me dinner each night I was here... and... how much I miss... oh damn..."

Once again she faught to keep back the tears, but failed miserably. Brooklyn gripped her shoulders gently in his talons as she pulled off her glasses. Lexington busied himself in a hunt for the tissues nearby. "Hey, Mary," Brooklyn murmured. "It's okay... nothin to apologize over.. really..."

She chuckled through her tears at the sight of Lexington helpfully holding up the box of facial tissues to her. "Did Elisa put you up to this?" she sighed, dabbing her eyes.

"Uh, yeah..." Brooklyn said, and slipped a firmly muscled arm around her shoulders. He was glad she didn't flinch at his touch. Marianne let him give her a reassuring hug as the red wings wrapped around her. There was nothing alterior in the embrace, merley a friend trying their best to comfort another.

Lexington placed a claw over her other hand as she continued to cry. Her sobs were shared in their miserable faces. Neither gargoyle felt much like hot chocolate now. But Brooklyn tossed his head towards the kitchen, and it was the smaller gargoyle that padded off to bring back several mugs and a tray.

"Help us help you," Brooklyn said, drawing back from her for a moment.

"Pardon?"

"Heard that from a movie..."

"Jerry Maguire..." she laughed softly. Tissues dabbed away the tears.

"My protectors," she shook her head as Brooklyn offered her a mug of tea.

"Hey, it's in the blood," Brooklyn said. "And there are all kinds of protecting too..."

"Including cheering up damsels in distress?" she asked him. They shared her laugh.

"Elisa's your friend, and so are we," Lexington said. "And hey, you're kinda far away from your own clan... so..."

"It's ironic, that the most helpful people... are gargoyles," she laughed again, dabbing both eyes this time.

"I've had... well a crush on someone. I know it's not the same, but hey, heartbreak and all..."

"Heartbreak," she shook her head.

"He's still out there..." Brooklyn said. "And maybe if..."

"Maybe if," she hoped, looking out at the rain battering the window. Wondering if he was looking at the same moon that slowly drifted behind the dark clouds. And missing her as much as she missed him.

She lifted her tearstained face to peer at both sets of bright eyes in the dim of night. Three lonely beings sharing the silence together, their eyes saying the rest of what was to come. Somehow the pain seemed bearable, even if the ache in her chest did not diminish. Past Brooklyn's cascade of white hair she looked to the moon dancing behind the stormclouds. Its silvery beams suddenly flooded the room in pale painted hues.

"Chas, wherever you are I will find you…" she murmured. "But only on your terms… and in your time…"

"There's always another sample for you to test," Lexington said, holding up his mug of hot chocolate. "You wouldn't want to let the museum down would you?"

"Hmm, that's the only thing that doesn't change with an argument," Brooklyn laughed. "There's always a job to do. Us, protecting this burg, and you… whatever it is that Saint wants you to do. Wish I was going to England. It would be neat to check out the London Clan…"

"Yeah, I hear Una and Leo have some cousins… about our age…" Lexington laughed. Then he saw Brooklyn's brooding look, and stopped.

"Hey, send us a postcard, and if you run into King Arthur…" Brooklyn said, as both of them moved within arm's length of her. "Let him know what's been going down here!"

"King Arthur…" she muttered. "Yes… I will…"

A sudden faraway look came into the tear-swollen eyes. Lexington and Brooklyn exchange questioning glances. "What's up?" Lexington asked her.

"Oh… nothing," Marianne murmured. "Just suddenly realized another person who might well depend upon us… and may well be able to help…"

"Him… how?" Brooklyn asked.

"Because he might have been to Avalon before Angela would get there?" Lexington supplied his wide eyes even more wide as he guessed. She nodded vigorously.

"The Midlands?" Brooklyn's eyebrow-ridge rose.

"You mean the gal who found the scrolls of Merlin?" asked Brooklyn. "You know her?"

"How does that connect with you?" Lexington asked. "Why are you going there?"

"Sweet!" Brooklyn grinned. "But how does that help you find Chas?"