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Shadowdancer

By Dracon

[Notice: The characters and events within are inspired by the "Gargoyles" TV Series and as such credit goes to the creators of said series. If any characters appear in the story from said series, those characters belong to their creators.

Should anyone wish to use the characters or events within in their own works, permission is hereby granted to do so. I just ask that you let me know if you are going to do so and provide credit in your work.

Underage viewers should not read this series, and all readers do so at their own risk.

The characters of Shang Hua, Shu-lin Ming, and Xiang Tzao are copyright of Wren Silverfox (www.fur-affinity.com/user/wrensilverfox). Permission is not granted for use of these characters. Contact their player for permission.]

Previously on Shadowdancer...

Shang gestured to the two women, saying, "This is my Cousin, Shu-lin. Lin-chan, for short. And, this is my Mother."

Logan stepped forward, allured by Lin's beauty, saying, "Hey, good to meetcha, sugar."

Logan rose to his knees and spoke softly in formal Garou, "You have helped me to remember who I am. I am in your debt."

"Make me yours," Lin replied softly, also in Garou, as her finger traced down his muzzle. "I need you, Logan, more than I have needed anyone in my life."

Logan told Lin sadly, "I came to the burrow to tell you that Shang and Tzao have decreed that we should leave immediately."

Lin sighed as she began to return to her human form, saying, "Yeah, let's return to society, then." - "Of Fox & Wolf, Part I"

"Of Fox & Wolf"

Part II

----Chapter I----

_How is young Triana doing? Got her to sleep, I hope? That's good. I hate to sound so ungrateful, but... I need you now. I think I'm feeling up to continuing my tale. The faster we get this told, the faster we can throw the Veil aside... and the sooner I can... rest... without the feeling of a job left undone.

We'll have to put this on the Network, you know. And, we have to make sure that there's no trace of your presence in this tale when we do so, I suppose. I am willing to take the consequences of breaking the law of my people, but it would not do to have you or the kit harmed._

Ah, but I'm getting morbid again. Let's do this, while I've still the energy. You ready?

Super 8 Motel

955 E. Main Street, Cobleskill, New York

December 1st, 2027

4:57 P.M.

Shortly after the sun fell below the horizon, Shang had pulled into the lot of a cheap, serviceable looking motel, parking the Bitch carefully as she heaved as sigh, her engine strained by the long trek through the wilderness. Tzao stepped out gracefully and announced, "I'll go get us some rooms."

I did a few quickly calculations with the aid of my ten digital calculating mechanisms and said, "Hey, I should be able to give Branson an' crew a call in an hour or so, let 'em know we're on our way back to their end of the woods."

Shang scanned the road, watching the cars that passed to and fro, and replied, "Sounds good to me."

I felt you stir against me, woken from your slumber by the absence of the Bitch's swaying and groaning, and smiled to you as you yawned, squeezing your shoulder softly. With a twist, I reached into the cargo area and pulled out my pack, since I had not wanted to disturb you in your rest.

Tzao came back just as I had started to worry about her, handing out credcard-shaped passkeys for the rooms, one to Shang and one to me. Concern in her voice, she cautioned, "Don't forget to get something to eat."

I laughed as I turned to you, saying, "Yes, ma-ma," then quietly asked if you would like to stretch your legs a little.

Your voice still a little thick with sleep, you replied as you slipped out of the SUV, "I would love to."

I hopped out behind you, my sneakers squeaking against the pavement, and looked around for any local attractions. Vid theaters, bars, anything. There wasn't much here, and the only theater was one of the old silver screen types, though I did find a listing for a couple of local bars, but all that the listings showed were names and addresses.

Grimacing as I surveyed the results, I told you, "Could go to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show, looks like, or see what's happenin' at the Crooked Ferret. Beyond that... this place is dead."

You frowned, looking uncomfortable, and asked, "Is there anywhere to eat? I'm famished."

My stomach rumbled in sympathy, and I replied, "There's just gotta be a McD's around somewhere. Or, maybe they serve at the Ferret," then added with a hint of apparent astonishment, "It looks like people still cook out here. Amazin'."

You gasped in mock surprise, as a thought crossed my mind. I pulled out the stylus for my portable, than began to dial the address listed for the Crooked Ferret, checking its system for details about the services it offered. It appeared that they served food, as well as other fine entertainments.

I relayed the information to you, put the stylus away, then held my arm out in what I hoped to be a gentlemanly fashion, glancing at the practically nonexistent traffic as you placed your arm into the crook of mine, allowing me to lead you to the bar.

I guess that is one advantage that we have over our winged allies. We can walk into a bar and nobody would notice. They walk into a bar... it ain't gonna be standing when they walk back out. Not the way it should have to be, but it's the way it is, and I frankly can't see it changing before I pass from this world.

I just hope it has changed before I pass...

I noticed a few vehicles parked in front, a rusty pick-up truck, a thirty-year-old blue Korean import, and a few other nondescript vehicles, and commented that they seemed to fit the building, which didn't seem in the best shape itself, though I felt it wouldn't collapse on our heads, at least.

As we stepped inside, we could see that the tavern was decorated with wood paneling on the walls, and parquet on the floor, suggesting that this had been a prosperous establishment once. Two guitarists and a woman vocalist were on the stage in the back, providing an ambient backdrop to the sounds of light conversation.

You looked around, noting that your red and gold silken dress stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the denim and plaid. My own garb fit little better, the neon print of my Hawaiian shirt gleaming under the overhead lights. I chuckled softly, then led you to an unoccupied table, whispering, "Well, at least we'll get served quick."

"I guess," was your reply as you looked around at all the glances you were getting. You seemed particularly concerned about the looks you were receiving from a table of rough-looking men some feet away, and told me as much.

I reached behind my back nonchalantly, as though to scratch an itch, and popped the clasp on my baton as I sat down, then said in a slightly over-loud voice, "Isn't this place lovely, my dead? Sure as hell don't have anything like this back in Beverly Hills!"

I caught the faintest hint of a smile as you affected a Chinese accent, the first time I'd heard you speak with an accent of any kind, and replied, "They don't."

Figuring that I might as well carry through with the role, I waited for a moment, fidgeting with feigned impatience, then shouted to the bar, "Hey! How's about some service over here!"

The waitress came hustling over, looking frazzled, and said, "Sorry, sir, I was just finishing up with someone else. What can I get for you?"

I flashed her a movie star-style grin, reflecting her eyes back to her with my shades, and said, "That's more like it! Tell you what. I want the biggest fucking steak you got in this place. Rare, y'hear me?"

Leaning her weight back, as though from the force of my bellow, she acknowledged, "I hear you. What would you like with it?"

I thought for a moment, mulling it over as though the question were whether or not I wanted the lead in Indiana Jones IX, then laughed, "Oh, I don't know. Guess it depends on the steak, eh? What'd you recommend, honey?"

I had to give her credit, she showed no further irritation at my bravado, just a faint bit of impatience, as though eager to leave my presence. She asked, "How about a stuffed, baked potato and some steamed carrots?"

I made a grimace, trying to look disgusted, and replied, "How's about two potatoes, and hold the carrots? I don't go for that Valley crap. Now, Lin, sugar, did you see anything you liked? Only the best for you, love!"

You looked confused and a little scared as you answered, your accent still pronounced, "I'm not too sure about this American food."

With an exaggerated sigh, I looked to the waitress and said, "Two steaks, then, and some of them carrots for my wife. Gotta show her how we do things in God's country, isn't that right!"

The waitress scribbled down my order, saying neutrally, "Yes, sir," before asking, "Now, what would you like for drinks?"

You replied, without a moments hesitation, "Coca Cola," showing the waitress your brilliant smile.

I grinned at you, pleased with your improvisation, then said, "Bring some bourbon for me. We'll see where we go from there."

The waitress nodded at us, then left, relief evident in her posture. You giggled softly, a sound as precious to me as sweet wine, and said, "This is fun."

You need to know that you impressed me a great deal that night. Trickster or no, I hadn't figured that you'd be able to pull off a series of bald-faced lies like that. In my business, it's something you do to survive, but I hadn't expected you to do nearly so well. Just another reason that I care for you, beloved.

*Chuckles* Well, you do what you must I guess.

I smiled at you, then leaned across the table and whispered, "I'm out of it. Shoulda said Crawford back there, with this shtick."

Pushing the mirrorshades out of my eyes, revealing the mirth glittering within them, I glanced at the roughnecks, finding them huddled over their drinks, occasionally looking at your backside with avaricious eyes.

I took your hand in mine, my smile softening to show my true love for you, then said, "I'll be right back, love. Need to do somethin' about the ambiance."

I slid my chair back and stood, then walked over to the stage, passing by the roughnecks' table and listening in to their conversation briefly.

They seemed to be pretty well drunk, and most of their comments were split evenly between complaining about the depression that had gripped Cobleskill and admiring 'that fine piece of tail the out-of-towner had brought in'. My hands tightened into fists in my pockets as I passed, the urge to crush those words out of their heads rising in my mind.

I distracted myself by approaching the musicians, getting their attention with a quick flash of my hand. I spoke quickly with them, gesturing back to you to show them who I wanted the song dedicated to, and passed them a small-denom credchit as a tip, my little way of saying thanks for the special treatment.

I returned to our table, pointedly not passing the ruffians, as the musicians started an eerily familiar melody, a smile rising on my face as I returned to you. As I sat, I commented to you, "Betcha never heard this one done acoustic."

The vocalist began to chant, her voice rising in an eerie wail, almost akin to a howl, as she sang, "Off through the new day's mist I run, out from the new day's mist I have come, I hunt, therefore I am, harvest the land, taking of the fallen lamb..."

Ahhh, yes. Our song, eh? I still smile every time I hear this one. It makes me think of this night, our first together in civilization. And... it makes me think of you, which is always enough to brighten my mood.

I'm touched, Love.

You favored me with a winning smile, your teeth glittering under the lights, and said, "I can't say I have. How appropriate."

I noticed the roughnecks shifting a little nervously as they listened to the lyrics, and I had made no attempt to conceal myself as the one that had requested it, leaving them to wonder exactly what had made me choose that piece.

You gazed into my eyes, the shine of your silvery irises seeming to glow under the lights, holding my hands as we listened to the vocalist sing of what she couldn't possibly know. I felt at peace with the world, despite the sense of distrust I felt from some of the patrons.

I took a moment, squeezing your hands tighter, to thank Luna and Mother Gaia, for what I guessed to be about the six hundred forth-third time, for letting me meet you, and allowing us to be together like this.

The waitress returned with our drinks, just after you had begun to run your thumbs along the backs of my hands, and she placed them on the table unobtrusively, obviously not wanting to disturb us in such an intimate moment.

I spoke quietly after she left, "Remind me to leave her a nice tip, for putting up with my yay-hoo act earlier."

Without missing a beat, you replied, "Don't forget the tip," as you continued to gaze into my eyes, not breaking eye contact with me, apparently as enraptured with my gaze as I was with yours.

What can I say? It's part of my nature. "Balance in all things," and all that. I felt that I had wronged her, so it was only right that I tried to do something to make up for it.

I told you that you were Honorable.

Yeah... that you did. I guess I can believe that a little easier now, but when I first met you...

I smiled lovingly at you as I watched the play of light in the liquid darkness of your eyes, not feeling the tension or nervousness that usually accompanied eye contact amongst my people. You smiled back to me, your eyes twinkling in the lights, and I felt my spirit soar to the rafters.

To steady myself, I slid my hand loose, carefully, and took the bourbon, knocking it back in an easy motion. I felt it burn its way down my throat, and my eyes tried to water, but I ignored it and took your hand again, saying, "Y'know, I could stay right here all night and be quite content."

Your voice a little stiff, and without the accent you'd adopted, you replied quietly, "I don't think so."

I flicked my eyes towards the men behind you, a concerned expression on my face, and you nodded almost imperceptibly, indicating your agreement. There were more dead soldiers on the table, rapidly growing to company strength, and the drunkards seemed to be eyeing you quite openly.

With a very quiet growl, almost inaudible over the did, I said quietly, "See what ya mean. I'll keep my eye on 'em for ya, beloved. Trust me."

Worry in your voice, you suggested, "Let us take our food back to the motel."

I nodded, then glanced around for a moment, asking quietly, "Think ya can act like you're about to faint? I hate to ask ya to do it, but it might be the easiest way."

"I do feel a little light-headed," you replied, and to tell the truth, I felt a little woozy myself, but I knew it was nothing physical, more due to the rage that was trying to rise in my heart, the baleful specter of Death that dwelled in my soul laughing at me.

I squeezed your hand as I rose, stepping around to your side of the table as you went pale, and I hustled to support you. You fell into my arms, barely able to stay upright, and I felt a chill run down my spine as I realized how limp you felt.

The thought that something might have happened to you was enough to move me into instant action. It still amazes me that you became so vital to me in such a short time. I'd never been that close to anyone, really, but I would have done anything to keep you from harm.

And, you have proved this to me time and again since then.

Sometimes spectacularly than others, eh? It was always worth it to me.

Wrapping my arm around your shoulders, I lifted you to your feet, helping you walk as we headed for the exit by way of the bar. I asked the barkeeper to hold our food for us, then helped you out into the cool dusk air, hoping that it would help revive you. I was truly concerned that something had happened.

I'm sure that worry was etched deeply into my face as I watched you lean against the side of the tavern, tried to will you to snap out of it. My heart raced as you looked up at me, then winked, revealing just how good of a job you'd done of faking it.

I heaved a sigh of relief as I hugged you, quietly telling you, "I shouldn't have worried about your actin' skills!"

You favored me with a smile, your face softening with pride and love, then closed your eyes and slumped back against me, warning me ever so softly, "Here they come."

I closed my eyes for a moment as I stroked your hair, then moved into action, helping you towards the street. I tried to remain casual, as though I had no inkling of the men approaching, though my every sense strained to keep their positions fixed in my mind.

We stumbled along, my wiry frame supporting yours with a little strain, then I changed our pace suddenly, slipping into an alleyway between a laundromat and an auto shop, wanting to get us out of clear sight of the street.

As soon as we had entered the alley, you straightened up and ducked behind a dumpster, as I loosed a little of my growing anger, allowing it to spill into my body. My muscles swelled as my limbs grew longer. A fine layer of hair formed along my body as my incisors sharpened, my nails extending into short claws as they grasped the handle of my baton.

I hoped that they would chalk up the changes of my Glabro form to bad lighting if they happened to see me, but knew that I would be better able to fend them off if I had to. They stumbled past uneventfully, completely unaware that they had lost us.

As we heard their footsteps pass, you stepped out from your cover and placed a hand on my arm, motioning in the direction of the motel with urgency.

I slipped the baton back into its pocket, then reverted to human form, laid my other hand on yours and squeezed softly. Carefully, slowly, I padded to the mouth of the alley, looking both ways to make sure nothing else was coming our way, and found to my relief that the street was empty, deserted.

I motioned you forward, then strode out with an tense posture, trying to appear as though I had merely made a wrong turn. You came out, appearing irritated, and muttered in Chinese as you glanced around, then pointed out the right direction.

My heart pounded against my ribcage as I walked you to the motel, a flood of adrenaline poised to surge into my blood at the slightest provocation.

Woe be to those who would face an enraged Crinos in love, eh? I'm good at keeping my anger under tight wraps, but if those drunkards had tried to jump you again... there would have been a federal investigation of a mass murder.

Not that it would lead back to you...

You took the passkey as we walked, then headed up to the room, telling me to go back for our dinner. I wrapped my arms around you before you could leave, drawing you into a kiss, then said, concern chilling my voice, "Be careful, sugar. Maybe I'm just in a bad mood, but I don't like this town."

Looking into my face, your eyes wide, you told me, "Me, either. Hurry back, Beloved," as you retreated to our room, locking the door from the inside. I jogged back to the bar, keeping an eye out for the drunkard brigade, then quickly stepped inside, my credcard already in hand to complete the transaction faster.

I saw a bag of takeout boxes sitting on the counter, and the barkeep's head snapped up as I approached. His deep voice rumbling with concern, he asked, "How is your wife?"

Smiling, my expression tight with feigned worry, I replied, " I think she's okay. Just some fucking evil jet lag from L.A., y'know? She'll be her usual self in the morning, I figure. Thanks for asking, man."

He nodded as he ran my card, adding in a bit of a discount, and I found myself taking a liking to him, even if I didn't care for his customers too much. I passed him a credchit and asked quietly, "Can you pass this to the waitress for me? I was... a little rude to her, earlier, and I want to make up for it."

I shook his hand, then took the bag as I pocketed my card, and turned to the door, but stopped, and said loudly, "I'll tell my buds about this place! I'll see to it that Wieber and Scott hear. You'll have more business than you know what to do with!"

I felt slightly pained to tell such a bald-faced lie, especially to someone who had been so kind to us, but I didn't want to break character, and attaching myself to the hottest new directing team in Hollywood just seemed to fit, somehow.

I heard the barkeep chuckle as he waved to me, and began to whistle when I stepped outside, forcing myself to act more cheerful and unguarded than I felt as I returned to the motel as quickly as I felt I could get away with.

When I got to the room, I knock a few times to get your attention, then slipped inside as soon as the door opened. The lights were out, and I began to worry, but was distracted by your flying tackle, your warm, furry form crashing into me with great force.

I managed to keep the bag steady as I fell to the floor, surprised at first, but I relaxed as I heard your voice, warm and purring, devoid of any accent, ask, "Welcome back, beloved. Did you run into any problems?"

I grinned in the darkness as I released the bag, then began to run my arms down your softly furred back, towards your firmly curved rear. I squeezed softly, eliciting a yip from you, as I replied, "Thankfully, no. The barkeep asked about ya, though."

You purred softly to me, replying, "Oh, what a nice guy," as you hung on my arm, laughing as you added, "Let's eat."

Grabbing the bag again, I set it on the small table, almost hidden in one of the corners, and tore it open for you, fumbling slightly in the dark. But, rather than turn on the lights, or shift form, I decided I wanted to surprise you a little.

I excused myself for a moment, then crouched in front of an empty electrical jack, and spoke softly, my voice taking on an odd clicking cadence. You tilted your head off to one side, an endearing gesture, and wondered aloud what I was up to now.

A wisp of smoke rose in front of me, and my eyes glowed for a brief moment. With a cocky grin, I walked more surely back to the table, my vision now perceiving heat rather than reflected light, and began to unpack the meal, grazing the tips of my fingers against your nipple to show that I knew exactly where you were sitting.

You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen or even dreamed of. Yet, to my eyes, you are never more beautiful than when I can see the very heat that warms your body, when I can watch the flow of blood through your muscles. I could literally see your love, or at least your lust, you know.

A very interesting gift, I would have to say. I must pick it up some time...

You murred softly, running your hands across my chest as I smiled, beginning to speak in a reverent tone, "I feel like I'm seeing ya for the first time, again. Ya shine so brightly to my eyes now, love."

I watched the patterns of heat shift along your skin, momentarily forgetting our meal as I looked on in rapture, sighing softly, but my stomach rumbled again, quite loudly, and broke the mood. I looked down and muttered, "Killjoy."

You began to tuck into your meal with determination, though still enjoying every bite, as you told me, "Let's eat up, then."

I was pleased to find that the entrée was indeed all that I'd hoped fore, and began to dig into the meat voraciously, making soft growls as I ate, to indicate my approval. As much as it had cost, I figured it better have been excellent. You cleared your plates in quick succession, purring as you sat back, placing a hand on your belly to show your pleasure.

Sopping up the last few juices with a chunk of potato, I folded up my plate with a crinkle of Styrofoam, commenting, "Not quite as good as home-hunted, but I've had a whole lot worse."

You purred your agreement as you stood, padding softly over to the bed, leaving fast-fading tracks of heat on the floor...

----Chapter II----

I grinned at you as I stripped down, piling the clothes on the floor carelessly, and slung my holster onto the bedpost with a quick toss. Climbing onto the bed, I placed a hand on the inside of your thigh, rubbed your soft fur, and heaved a sigh, saying, "I wish I could take my Crinos form, but, uh... I think we'd break the bed, love."

An impish grin on your muzzle, you shoved me hard, rolling me off the bed and landing on top of me as you suggested, "There is always the floor."

I oof'ed as I struck the floor, gasping out, "I noticed," but shook my head to clear it, then clasped my hands around your waist as I began to change, hypnotized by the shimmering of heat shifting across your chest as you panted.

Your soft, warm glow seemed to become even brighter as your body temperature rose, and I could feel the moisture of your womanhood against my fur as you became more and more aroused.

I rubbed my muzzle against the side of your face as I murmured, "My brilliant goddess," then began to grind my hips against yours. You growled and began to rub against me, your juices soaking into my fur as I felt my shaft fill with white-hot blood, pressing against your belly, spurred on by the feeling of your body grinding against its sensitive skin.

Locking my eyes to yours, I squeezed your waist hard, though not enough to really do any harm, holding onto you for dear life as you began to rub your slit directly along my maleness, bathing it in your fluids.

I tried, and failed, to stifle the low growl that rose in my throat, chest heaving with my Passion, as my shaft came to full attention under your ministrations. I held you for a moment, stilling your hips with my strength, then drove the very tip into your womanhood, wanting to prolong the ecstasy as long as I could, for both of us.

Moaning softly, you started to sink slowly downward, welcoming me into you, as you panted, "We're... gonna... have to... be quiet."

Growling in a low tone, barely audible, I ran my hands up along your chest, placing them onto the swells of your wonderful breasts, rubbing and massaging them in time with the rhythm of my thrusts. My eyes closed in concentration as I tried to keep from giving voice to my Passion.

As far as I can remember, you didn't have that much of a problem. You were having a hard time just breathing enough to keep yourself in motion along my unyielding shaft. Some primal instinct came to my mind, and I brought my muzzle down to nibble tenderly against your shoulder, growling my lust into your soft fur.

You moaned quietly and twitched as a minor climax raced through your body, your inner muscles rippling around my shaft, causing my eyes to open wide with pleasure. I began to speed up the leisurely pace of my strokes in response, my growling growing louder as I tried to bring you to climax again.

You began to yiff softly as you rode me, your hips bucking gently in a counterthrust, as you braced your hands on my chest, idly playing with my nipples. I leaned in a little, bringing my chest closer to your hands, my ears standing straight up with the new sensation.

I brought my head up from your shoulder to your face, tongue lolling out one side in what I can't imagine was a particularly attractive grin, and panted out a surprisingly simple phrase in Garou, "I love you."

Never doubt that for a moment, my love. Without you, I am as nothing. Even beyond the demands of my people and my conscience, you are the one that truly gave my life purpose. It was my honor to lay my life down for you, even if I managed to mess th... Pardon me. Warn me when you see that I'm starting to get depressed again, would you?

I will.

You just yiffed and whimpered in agreement. I guessed that you had understood my words, but were unable to form coherent speech just then, judging by the look on your face, contenting yourself to lick at my muzzle as a response.

I started to lick back, coming as close as I could manage to a passionate kiss through the haze that had filled my mind, and began to thrust even harder, nearly throwing myself against you as I felt my balls prime themselves for the coming crescendo.

You threw your head back, pulling from my kisses, panting hard and yiffing softly each time I slammed into you, the soft squelches of our lovemaking filling our ears, the scent of our arousal spreading through the air to cling to every surface.

I drove my shaft fully within you as I felt my knot start to swell, and started rubbing my muzzle against your bosom to stifle the cry that I wanted to release. I felt an almost tangible pain at the deception, wanted to declare my love for you to the world with the full power of my Crinos body, but knew that it was impossible.

You brought your head down and pulled my face up to yours as you began to teach me a fascinating method of kissing in our hybrid forms. You locked your fangs behind mine, your smaller, more delicate muzzle fitting easily against my own, and began to howl down my throat as you peaked, the sweet essence drenching the fur of my groin.

I felt that I could hold out no longer, the feverish convulsions of your climax driving me towards my own. Unable to control myself, not even wanting to, really, I roared in return. I would swear that I heard my cry echo against your throat, and we both heard a hard thump from the room next door, the song of our lovemaking finally becoming too much for the neighbor to take.

Thick gushes of my seed flung themselves towards your womb, splashing wetly against the tensed muscles of your cervix, and you seemed to faint in true this time, collapsing backwards bonelessly against my legs, panting hard for breath.

Rousing yourself a little, you laid your hands along your stomach, then reached a little lower, feeling the slight bulge of my shaft pressing against your taut flesh. I gasped as I felt your fingers dance along the tip of my cock, threw my head back against the unyielding floor as you began to stroke my maleness through the skin of your own belly, the sharp, darting points of pressure making me feel lightheaded, in the best possible way.

Now that is something that I don't think any other lover could do to me, assuming I had wanted anyone beyond you. One advantage we found with the relatively delicate nature of your Koto form, eh?

You began to purr softly as you continued caressing your belly, one hand gently stroking against my shaft, the other rubbing more pointedly up towards your womb.

I rested my hands along your trim waist, the haze of ardor that fogged my mind seeming to thicken as small climaxes, each one a revelation in itself, continued to wrack my body. Each time my balls released another gush of my wolf-spunk, you moaned contentedly.

Ceasing your massage, you took my hands in yours and laced our fingers together as I growled softly in pleasure. I began to squeeze your fingers more lightly, then gasped, as it seemed that I had gone blind, darkness descending in my vision as the Gift I had enacted faded.

You sat up slowly, groaning as my shaft twitched within you, and laid against my chest, purring softly. I tried to speak to you, to tell of how much you meant to me, but my mouth was too dry to form the sounds I wanted, so I contended myself with holding you tightly against my chest, my eyes closed to hold back the tears of joy.

I ran my hands along your back, rubbing your shoulders firmly, a smile splitting my muzzle as I reassured myself that you were still there, that you weren't some mere fever-dream. You attempted to croak something yourself, but you mouth had also become too dry to speak properly.

A mischievous grin crossed my face, my teeth shining in the faint moonlight, I tried to sit myself up, gripping your waist in an attempt to keep you steady, the shifting of your flesh against mine nearly enough to drive me mad. You wrapped your legs around my waist, your arms around my neck, as you nuzzled close to me, your firm breasts pressing into my chest.

I smiled at the simple pleasure your body brought me, then rose to my feet to walk towards the table. You twitched with every step, the motion enough to drive me to loose another jet of wolf-spunk into your waiting body with each footfall.

I groped blindly for the bottle of Coca-Cola, twisting open its cap, and brought the bottle to your lips, upending it when I felt your open muzzle. Some of it spilled along the fur of your face and chest, but it served to wet your mouth enough for you to speak. When you pulled your head away, I drained the remaining amount, crushing the bottle effortlessly.

You murred loudly as you licked your lips and said, "Silly wolfy, you got me all messy. I hoped you planned on cleaning this mess up," gesturing to the patches of stickiness on your fur with your muzzle.

Tossing the crushed plastic away, I began to lap at your neck softly, tasting the sweetness of the soda mingled with the saltiness of your sweat, and growled, "I suppose that could be arranged," with all the sarcasm that I could muster in the Garou tongue.

You sighed and leaned back, lacing the tips of your fingers behind my neck, and allowed me full access to your upper body. I began to run my hands along your neck and shoulders, feeling for the sticky patches of fur. I caressed your skin lovingly as I searched, my tongue darting just behind the questing hands, which seemed to please you, as you tilted your head back and whimpered in what I took to be a submissive manner.

I began to run my tongue along the upper curves of your breasts, not that much had spilled onto them, and I could hear you begin to pant again, your thighs locking even tighter around my waist, which only spurred me to massage your breasts more vigorously.

Every time it seemed as though my knot might be beginning to release, I felt your body shift against mine in just the right way to return my shaft to full erection. Not that I minded, of course!

It seemed that you had little objection, either. I could see just enough of your face in the dim light to see that you were greatly enjoying yourself, content to hang from my neck, pleased to stay speared upon my unflagging erection.

As much as I enjoyed your tremendous skill, seeing you so content, so euphoric from our mating was even more pleasing to me than the lovemaking itself.

I slid to the floor with a soft thump, feeling my legs go weak as another surge of cum rushed through my shaft, and I pressed my head into your shoulder tightly. You murred and licked my ears, eliciting a contended sigh from my lips, then rippled your inner muscles along my cock, trying to draw out all that I had to offer.

Yipping quietly, just barely audibly, I told you reverently, "You are more than I deserve, more than I ever thought I would have, my love."

With a soft, husky purr, you replied, "You are the one I have been waiting a long time for."

I clutched your warm, furry body to my chest greedily, enveloping you in my arms once again, and you continued to purr as you snuggled into the thick coat of fur covering my massive chest. With a smile, I looked to the ceiling, sensing Luna smiling upon the two of us, somewhere above.

I ran a hand along the back of your head, then scratched at the base of your ears softly as you cuddle into me, then began to inhale deeply of our combined scents, and finally began to feel my shaft go soft.

You purred and snuggled with me, your fingers playing with the fur on my chest as you yawned. My heart swelled as I looked at your gorgeous features, still amazed that you had chosen me for your mate.

It did come as a bit of surprise, you have to admit. I'd never been much of a believer in 'love at first sight', but... I am now. You've proven its truth to me time and time again, my love.

I had never believed in Love at first sight either, I had been burned in the past. But, you changed all of that for me, My Beloved Wolf.

You deserve better than that. If I could change the past to keep you from having been hurt that way, I would... but it would mean losing you.

My hand tensed against your ear for a moment, and I whimpered quietly, swearing, "Wyrm's excrement. There was something I was going to do tonight."

My muzzle opened in a slight smile as I brought it against the top of your head, rumbling softly with pleasure as I added, "It can wait."

You began to nuzzle one of my pecs, your tongue stabbing out to tease my nipple as you replied softly, "Call your friends. I can hardly wait to meet this Branson of yours."

I woofed briefly as I felt blood surge through my body, my breath catching in my throat, then began to slide my softened maleness loose from you while I still could. I'm sure I must have had a regretful look in my eyes as I hugged you even closer, not really wanting this to end.

I asked quietly, not knowing how much you knew of them, "Do you know of the," then struggled to think of a way to explain. I crafted a compound word in Wolf, as it seemed somehow to fit better, that expressed the concepts of, "wings, night, guardians."

Did you know that my name-phrase has spread amongst certain of the Garou? I'm no Galliard, but it seems that no one's come up with a better one yet. Karma helped spread it around, I think. She took a liking to them, after all.

And, it is a very interesting phrase, too. It's almost musical, for Garou...

What can I say? Between their own intrigue, and the company I kept at the time... I was inspired.

You nodded against my chest and explained, "Yes, Shang-Lee was telling me about how he was saved by these winged guardians of the night."

I saw you gesture to the bed, then picked you up easily and carried you over, laying you out gently before clambering onto its yielding surface myself. With a sultry smile, you began to groom me, lingering around the fur of my crotch, then cleaned yourself off before sliding into my arms to cuddle some more. With a bit of amusement, I noted that the bed seemed to be up to the challenge of bearing our weight, while we were inactive, anyway.

Stroking the blades of your shoulders, I began to retake my human shape, as I knew that there would be no way for them to recognize my voice, changed as it was in the skin of my Passion. Reaching towards the bedpost, I pulled my shades and stylus from my holster as you pressed your warm, furry form into me.

Rubbing myself into your fur, the soft strands tickling my naked flesh, I began to dial. After a moment, I frowned, a relatively impressive growl emerging from my throat, causing you to ask what was wrong.

I dialed again, manually this time, then tore off the glasses and swore, "Luna's shadow! It's giving me a 404, unable to reach the address. I know that number's right!"

With a look of concern, you took the peripherals from me and tried for yourself. A calm, but slightly synthetic sounding, voice spoke as the words formed on the lenses, "I'm sorry, but I am unable to complete the connection. This server cannot be found. Please check your address and try again."

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate computers? Funny for a Glass Walker like me, but there you go. The Weaver-spawned things seem to just know when I'm trying to use them, and act up just to torque me off. They're handy, when they work, but...

Don't stress it, my Beloved Wolf. I remember the birth of computing...

If you try to tell me you or your family are why the East dominate in computing, I think I'm going to have to cry...

Frowning, you set to work and began to trace the landlines leading away from the Castle, trying everything you knew to complete the connection. I slipped up onto the pillows to watch you work, hoping to catch a glimpse of the display, and was surprised to see you work the system so easily.

The voice spoke up again, "I'm sorry, but I am unable to complete the connection. No Network node found at the requested location."

With a low growl, you disabled the voice function and kept working, digging into the local news services to see if there were any known connection problems in the area.

You found an article in the Tribune speaking of a 'tragic fire' at the historical site, giving some background on the Castle. It seemed that last night, a fluke electrical surge had set the ancient wiring ablaze, consuming the majority of the building before help could arrive.

Some residents in the nearby residential community claimed that they had heard gunshots and explosions, but authorities believed that this was merely due to the generators in the basement exploding.

Gotta give Tseng some credit. With the damage that place took, getting that kind of a story published... I'd love to have seen him doing his arm-twisting, I bet that would be an educational experience.

Verily.

Knowing that my view of the glasses wasn't that great, though the view was most inspiring otherwise, you relayed that information to me, adding, "Not good, Beloved."

I clasped your shoulders in a death grip, and I could feel blood rushing from my face, turning them as pale as the sheets beneath us. Growling angrily, I said, "That ain't no electrical fire. I was there, the inside of that place was totally rebuilt."

Rubbing my hand softly, you tried to calm me down by saying, "I don't know what to say, Beloved. But, that's what is in the news. I can keep digging if you want me to."

I rubbed my cheek against yours as I changed position, sliding to the edge of the bed. "Could ya? I've gotta go tell Shang, he needs to know."

Holding up a hand to tell me to wait, you reached your arm back and began to knock on the wall behind us, an obviously coded series of knocks. In a matter of moments, Shang had appeared in the room, wearing only his slacks. I hadn't even seen the door open, and knew it was locked. I figured that he must have taken a more exotic route here.

With my leg stuck half-way in my jeans, I paused and eyed the two Kitsune with a raised eyebrow, commenting, "Now, that's handy," before dropping the pants and snuggling back into your fur for reassurance, telling Shang, "Have a seat, bro. There's somethin' bad goin' down in Chi-town."

Quickly summarizing your summary, compacting it even more as Shang had been there, I added my own thoughts, commenting that it sounded like a cover-up to me. Shang nodded in agreement and said, "That's what it sounds like to me. Maybe we can get Mother to Walk us there.

I was about to ask what, exactly, Shang was referring to when you agreed, "We'll have to take that up with her."

You looked to me just in time to see my brows wrinkle in confusion as I glanced at the two of you, asking, "That like a Moon Bridge or somethin'? I wouldn't wanna try makin' one on a no moon night, even if I knew how."

Shang smiled slightly, knowingly, and replied, "Mother can walk the Umbra and travel faster than you can in this plane. She could bring us and our possessions, all except your SUV."

Pulling away from you, I quickly began to don my jeans again and laughed, "Ya know what the Bitch is like, nobody's gonna try and take her. I think I can get someone to drive it back for me. If ya think mama'll do it, then yeah, I think we should get goin'."

Heading to the door, Shang said, "Pack quickly," as he slipped out the door and down the hall, presumably to speak with Tzao.

I shook my head for a moment before tossing on my shirt, commenting sardonically, "Now, remind me, how'd I get mixed up with a coupla gods, again?"

You hopped from the bed, shifting back to your human form in mid-fall, then began to pull on a pair of tight jeans and a black t-shirt, replying, "We're not gods. Kitsune were gifted with powerful magick by Luna when Gaia ran out of gifts for us. We can learn just about any rite from any other race, and we learn quick."

I still think you're selling yourself short here, sugar. I can't comprehend more than the barest fraction of what you've been able to do, much less Tzao. I'll be honest, that woman frightens me a little, even though she's on my side.

Just a friendly warning, don't piss her off like certain Garou have. *Cough de Silva Cough*

*Logan threw a salute from his bed* No, ma'am! Not gonna happen.

You pulled on a red, leather jacket as I grabbed my holster to my back, under the shirt, buttoning it before slinging my pack across my right shoulder with a negligent air, replying, "Well, from down here, I don't see too much of a difference."

I checked over the room one last time, tidying up the garbage from our meal as I sighed, "Between you three and ol' Apoc, I sometimes wonder why I'm here. I'm always gettin' caught up in stuff I just can't handle."

With a playful grin, you asked, "Nonsense, Beloved. Us spell slingers need someone to keep the bad guys occupied while we sling our spells. Haven't you ever played D&D?"

Who would have thought that someone as serious and dedicated as you would be a gamer, too? I suppose I'll have to include at least a sample of that campaign you were in, the one Persephone ran. Never could quite see the appeal, myself, but it might bring a bit of levity to what may well be a terminally depressing story... You'll have to help me make sure I get the details right, though. I couldn't tell an attack bonus from an ability score to save my life.

Sometimes Love, you just have to get away from it all, or you wind up going insane...

*Logan glanced at the bookshelf he laid by* I concede the point.

With surprising speed and strength, you hauled my head down to your face and said, "I love you, and don't you forget it," before locking me into a passionate kiss.

The pack fell from my suddenly nerveless fingers, landing on the ground with a dull thump, but I found my strength again and wrapped my arms around your back, drawing you closer to me as I closed my eyes, my sole attention focused on the sweet taste of your lips. You hugged me back, just as fiercely as we lingered on the kiss.

I felt the urge to retake my Crinos form rise as our lips locked, our tongues touched each other, but stuffed it away in a cubby of my mind, knowing full well that if we were to start again, we probably wouldn't get around to leaving until morning.

As our kiss dissolved, you looked up at me with eyes that made my heart melt, saying quietly as you began to walk towards the door, fingers laced with mine, "Let us go see Mother."

I barely remembered to grab my pack as we left, my hand wrapped tightly around yours. Glancing back at the dark puddle on the carpet, a memento of our passion, I muttered, "I don't envy housekeeping, sugar."

You giggled softly in response as we walked down to Tzao's room, knocking quietly. Her voice called out for us to enter, and you opened the door, slipping in then motioning for me to join you.

I entered cautiously, not certain of what exactly I should expect. Would Tzao try to take us all through the bathroom mirror? Would there be some basin of pure water resting in the middle of the floor? Would she even need such aids?

I found the vixen in question standing tall in her natural form, her eight tails waving lazily around behind her body as we entered. Calmly, she regarded us and asked, "Are you ready?"

My breath coming in short, sharp gasps from anxiety, nearly panting, I nodded my head, twining my arm around yours for support and reassurance. You hugged into me as Tzao began to chant, warning me to, "Close your eyes, Beloved."

When I opened my eyes next, I found myself in Graver Park, hundreds of miles traversed in the blink of an eye. I looked around in stunned astonishment as my heart rate began to level out. How could we possibly have traveled so quickly, I wondered. I was quite pleased that I had not felt the trip, nor seen the grey, shadowy plains of the Umbra itself, though. The less time I needed to spend there, the better, in my opinion.

Looking around, I found that you and I were alone in the park, and that you were clutching something in your right hand. I glanced around once more, my heart beginning to race again, and asked quickly, "Where are Shang and Tzao? Did somethin' go wrong?"

Pocketing the note you held in your hand, you replied, "No, they'll be driving your RAV-4 back."

I grinned sheepishly as I placed a hand behind my neck, the other lashing out to encircle your waist. "Oh, that was awful kind of 'em. I was worried that... they'd been, uh, intercepted."

You leaned into my embrace and replied confidently, "There isn't a lot in the Umbra that wants to deal with three Kitsune, especially with a big, brave Garou warrior to protect them."

I shivered, feeling as though a chill breeze had brushed by me, even as the warmth of your body suffused mine. I began to lead you towards the Castle, commenting, "Oh yeah, yeah, there are."

As you followed me towards the Castle, covering the few intervening blocks quickly, you answered, "Well, it wouldn't have succeeded. But, that is a conversation for the daytime."

One place where you've always been braver than I. Trust me, my fear is much lessened now, between your help in leading me through the Umbra, and what we faced together... Still gives me the heebie-jeebies, though, that's the honest truth.

My heart sank like a block of limestone as I saw the ruins of the once-grand structure. Part of the third story had collapsed inward on itself, mainly above the massive craters drilled into the stone of the thick walls, and the smell of smoke and ash still hung heavily over the site. Whimpering softly, you commented, "So much waste..."

I hung my head as I walked towards the door, commenting reverently, "This was a beautiful place, when I last saw it. Those craters ain't the result of any electrical fire, I can tell ya that right off. They look like rocket blasts, to me."

You stood in front of the massive wooden doors, your eyes closed, your head tilted back a little. I placed my hand against the left door and had just begun to push it open, when the whole slab of wood fell over, landing in a cloud of ash that revealed that the outer veneer had been all that had survived the inferno.

Quietly, awed by the touch of the house's aura, you spoke as you entered into the castle, "A great battle raged here."

Something in your tone startled me, and I turned to look at your face, realizing for the first time what you must have been doing. Speaking quietly, to try not to disturb your trance, "Can... can ya tell who it was? Can ya see if the Gar - " my voice trailed off, unable to bring myself to finish the question.

I could tell that you were working hard, and my question made you strain even more. You told me in response, "I, I don't feel the presence of any Garou. Just your winged friends and some humans. Important ones, at that."

I squeezed your hand softly in thanks, my mind whirling. I was happy that de Silva hadn't been behind this. If he'd so much as lifted a finger to harm my friends, any of my friends, I would have vowed to kill him, in the slowest manner I could possibly think of.

Not that I would have minded too much to do it, just on general principles. But, the Litany kept me from that option. Probably the best for both of us.

Your Litany doesn't protect him from ME. "I free you to do anything to achieve our goals." If he had really pushed it, he wouldn't be around anymore...

Fortunately or unfortunately, I do not know, he was just cunning enough not to push you that far. He got what he deserved, though, didn't he?

That he did.

I walked slowly as I looked around, trying to analyze the pattern of the battle as you delved the past, shaking my head every so often as I spotted a pool of blood or a new line of bullet holes in the walls.

With a shudder, you spoke up, startling me with the tone of your voice, "There is much hatred here. Like those who attacked hated the guardians of this castle for no other reason than because they were different, and those who attacked were gullible."

My mouth dry, I knelt by an odd burn pattern in the floor, deeper than the others and strangely... ribbed? I asked, not certain if I really wanted to know the answer, "Do you feel any... curiosity? Any sense that they wanted to capture the Gargoyles?"

"A faint trace of it," you replied. "Buried deep under the mass need... to destroy," you continued, looking down at the burn pattern, examining it curiously.

I ran my hand across the burn, smelling a faint scent of burned flesh emanating from the scar in the carpeting, and muttered, "Hmm... Probably not Gen-U-Tech, then. This doesn't like their style, anyway. Not CyberSolutions, either, praise Luna."

You agreed as you examined the burn closely, leaving me to my thoughts as you tried to learn what you could from the singed patch. After a moment, my back went ramrod straight, and I growled, a low mournful sound mixed with pure rage. "I... know who did... this."

You looked up from your study, asking me, "Who?"

I stood up from the burn mark, then ran to the ruined staircase, beginning to rip into the piles of debris like a wolf possessed, muttering incoherently under my breath. You approached, but stayed back to give me some space.

My snarl widened as I roared triumphantly, pulling out a long metal shaft with one hand, which was torn on one end, and a metal hammerhead with the other, the broken stub on its bottom matching that of the shaft.

Looking at it curiously, you asked, "A warhammer?"

I threw the pieces of the sundered weapon to the floor, as though they had burned me, and intoned in a dark, resonant voice, heavy with the full fury of a Philodox enraged. "There... will... be... vengeance."

I know that by now, you've figured out one thing about me, beloved. Nobody messes with my friends and gets away with it. A curse of my auspice, and I suppose a little bit of it is my upbringing, too.

You laid a hand against my arm, eyes opened wide with concern at the raw malice that poured from me, a side of my personality that you had never seen before, and tried to calm me down enough to get some answers, asking, "Against who, Beloved?"

I took a deep breath, my body trembling as adrenaline flooded my veins, and my hands clenched spasmodically into fists at my sides, but I had the presence of mind to answer, "Only the greatest threat that faces our friends... and they wouldn't like our kind, either. They call themselves the Quarrymen, as though there were some union of disgruntled stoneworkers."

You continued to try to calm me down, rubbing your hand against my arm, saying firmly, "Your rage will not help you at this time, Beloved. Put it away and let it simmer until it is needed," before pulling me down into a kiss, hugging your arms tightly around me.

I looked at you, uncomprehendingly for a moment, then began to return the kiss with the same intensity that had driven my search through the debris. A few drops of my blood spattered against your soft skin, souvenirs of the scratches I had taken in my search.

A few whisper-soft footfalls broke the silence, and you felt a tap on her shoulder, as a feminine voice cleared her throat and said, "Hey, lovebirds. You picked the wrong spot to make out. Get going."

----Chapter III----

You looked over your shoulder to see a tall, lithe brunette, apparently of Spanish or Mexican stock, dressed in full Marine B.D.U., heavily armed and armored, stared down at the two of them, her carbine pointed at my chest, and frowned in the shade of her camo helmet, behind the mounted optics.

You blinked at the woman, then turned and looked up to me, asking, "Does she look familiar to you?"

I looked around, rather flustered, and pulled myself loose from your embrace. I reached into pocket and pulled out one of my cards, simply handing it to the marine, too disconcerted to pull my usual mischief. "No, beloved, I don't know... anyone in the military. Um," I squinted at the Marine's upper arms, then continued, "Corporal, we're trying to find out what happened here. I think a few friends of mine might have been trapped here during the... fire."

The soldier lowered her M4, a stubby, ugly, but remarkably easy-to-handle carbine, and took the card with a wary eye, ready to open fire if we made any sudden moves. She checked it over, then tucked it into a pocket. Bringing a hand to her helm, she keyed the radio and said, "This is Santiago. Chavez, keep an eye on these two while I go check with Bossman."

Looking at us with a cool, neutral expression, she told us, "Stay put," then turned to leave, as a red laser dot began to glow over my heart. I heard you growl really softly, but with barely restrained malice, when you saw that.

If only they'd known who you were, eh? I still find it amusing that they'd guessed me to be the greater threat. You ain't no damsel in distress, that's for sure.

Ah, but being underestimated is one of a Fox's best survival tricks.

I closed my eyes and laid my head against your shoulder as I waited for the marine to return. The laser dot vanished after a few minutes, and then the soldier returned, saluting us as she approached. "Sorry for the confusion, Mr. Starr," she smiled, then added, "and friend. You're cleared to travel anywhere you want around the Castle, though I would recommend you avoid the upper floors. The Gargoyles left instructions that you and a "Shang Hua" were to be given free access to the ruins."

I gasped as I heard her words, squeezing your shoulders tightly, then asked, "Did they survive? I didn't think there would have been a chance, not with the Quarrymen after them."

Santiago grinned at us, her striking, angular face lighting up as she replied, "You'd be surprised, sir. I hear they put up a hell of a fight."

Smiling as you felt my rage dissipate, you asked, "Would you happen to know where they are now?"

The soldier replied calmly, "They're en route to the Dawn Patrol base, over in the N.A.N., out in Nevada. All four of them are quite healthy, last I heard."

You looked up into my face. I nodded, then you asked, "We wish to see them, is it possible?"

Santiago frowned, thinking for a moment, then said, "I... can't say, I'm afraid. You'd need to talk with Bossman. Our orders are just to accompany you, and a few others on the list, through the ruins until they're rebuilt. He might be able to get on a commline to them, anyway. Follow me."

You laced your fingers into mine as we began to follow Santiago, and said simply, "Thank you."

As she began to march away, she turned back over her shoulder and said, "Oh, you'll want to... keep an open mind. The Colonel isn't exactly, uh, your average joe."

I gripped your hand tightly as I followed the marine, weaving around piles of debris, torched furniture, and blast craters, shaking my head at the devastation. I whispered to you, "I'm glad they made it out... but, the Hoodies are still on my hit list, love."

Looking up to me with a fierce light in your eyes, you replied, "They are on mine as well. If for nothing else than bringing destruction to a place as beautiful as this used to be."

Once we've got this written out, I really need to get back onto them. Even if I'm not strong enough to fight them anymore, I'm still a detective. I won't let this thing beat me, love, I won't. Not while I still have something to offer the world. I'd love to see 'em nailed by the criminal justice system, personally. The vigilantism my people have always practiced rankled me, I must admit.

Then, let us bend our intellects to the task.

We approached the former woodworking shop, Branson's sanctum sanctorum, and Santiago stood to guard the door, motioning us to enter. Within, the tools and benchers were pushed to the sides of the room, a large table set in the middle with a projector displaying onto it. In front of the table was a massive figure, tall and broad-shouldered, backlit by an overhead light.

You looked up and sniffed experimentally, and I inhaled deeply as well. We sensed an unusual scent that I found familiar, like that of freshly turned ground, heavy with a musk that you later told me you knew was male, somehow.

The figure turned, tapping a button on the projector to bring up the overhead lights, revealing a lavender-skinned face, much like that of a human's, but somehow unlike, as well. His wings were draped around his broad form, but the bottom of a pair of B.D.U. pants showed beneath their scalloped, almost delicate, edges.

He smiled, his wide face lighting up as he extended a hand to us, and spoke a greeting, his voice gravelly and low, but elegant at the same time. "Well met. Branson and Persephone were quite insistent that you be treated with all the hospitality we could grant you. I am called Goliath. Welcome to our outpost."

You bowed after shaking the giant's massive hand, then said in a slightly accented voice, "I am Shu-lin Ming, of the Dragon Courts of the Seven Kingdoms."

I also shook his gigantic hand, easily as large as mine in my Crinos form, but said with an air of confusion, "Logan Starr, Private Eye. Uh, 'scuse me for bein' an idiot, but... who's Persephone?"

Goliath looked at the two of us, probably noting our obvious affection easily, given how good of a judge of character I now know him to be, and sighed softly, a haunted look in his eyes, as he explained, "Ah, that is correct. She said that you would have known her as Jamie."

I noticed that he spoke with a soft accent, the edges of it worn by his time in the States, but it seemed to add a sense of class to his words, an old-world elegance to his tone.

Squeezing your hand softly, I grinned and nodded, thanking the giant, and asking, "You're not, uh, any relation, are ya?"

Goliath smiled and shook his head, then mentioned us over, towards the projector. "Santiago told me that you wish to speak with Chicago Clan. Is this right?"

You bowed to him slightly, showing your respect and gratitude, as you replied, "That is correct."

He adjusted the controls, tapping a series of keys that really were too small for his claws, and waited for a moment as the device beeped quietly. The face of a young man shimmered into being on the surface of the table. "Goliath, 'zat you? What's the problem, yo? Kinda busy here, man. Traffic's murder."

Goliath changed his tone, speaking even more slowly and distinctly, as one might to a child, "Reno, please pass the commlink to the others. Logan Star has returned, along with his -" he looked back as he mouthed the word, "mate."

You nodded, a faint smile on your face as you waited for the inevitable confusion from the other side.

The picture swam and pixilated as Reno shouted, "Hey! That's mine, give it back!"

An attractive and familiar face, covered in mahogany-toned skin, appeared on the table, drawn in lines of gently glowing laser-light, giving her a vaguely angelic radiance. Cracking a smile, she said, "Hey, bro! Good to see you! Sorry 'bout the mess back home, man, but we just didn't have the time to clean it up. You got hitched? Wicked!"

I grinned back at her and placed my arm around your shoulder, holding you tightly as I said, "It's... kind of a story. Elayne, meet Shu-lin."

You smiled shyly as you pressed into my side, and Elayne's eyes twinkled as she smiled at us, then passed the commlink around the cabin, allowing the others to make their introductions to you.

It ended up in Branson's hands, and I noted that he seemed a bit more relaxed than the last time I'd seen him, despite the loss of his home and protectorate. He was currently curled in the back seat, leaning against Persephone's side, her arm draped over his chest. He spoke evenly and politely, despite his relaxed posture, "Pleased to meet you, Shu-lin Ming. Pardon me, is it Ming or Starr now?"

With a prideful tone in your voice, you replied, "It's still Ming."

I nuzzled your cheek, whispering, "We need to talk about that," then said aloud, "Look, I don't wanna reopen the wound, y'know, but... what in the name of Mother Gaia happened here? It looks like there was a fraggin' war in here."

Branson and Persephone quickly sketched out the battle, making certain to praise the heroism of the President and the Secret Service agents. They also emphasized the involvement of this 'Hunter' that had led the attack. By the end of their recitation, I could both hear and feel you growling dangerously.

I harmonized my voice with yours as I also growled, my voice grave as I declared, "I'll see what I can do on this end. I owe ya that much, Branson."

I hesitated for a moment, then looked into your face and asked, "Will you help me with this, beloved?"

A dark haze seemed to form around you, the air seeming to ripple as though it were above a concrete slab on a hot day, and you balled your hands into fists as you worked to control your Rage, speaking bleakly, with absolute control, "In a heartbeat, beloved."

I am thankful that you have never needed to direct your black Rage at me. It is a truly terrifying trait of yours. Amongst my people, not even an Ahroun has a powerful enough Rage to directly influence the world that way.

It scares me from time to time as well, Beloved. When I look back at moments like this one, I shiver.

'Seph spoke up, somehow seeming to perceive the dark aura that collected around you, and her voice betrayed a great deal of concern as she pleaded, "I know you want to help, but please, I ask you not to do this. It was all I could do to even hurt him, and I don't want to see either of you harmed by this madman."

I felt fur ripple under the skin of my arm as you instinctually changed to your true Koto form, your tails lashing behind you in agitation as you answered, "I believe that between Logan and myself, we can deal with him."

Goliath gasped as he watched the transformation, his large eyes opened wide in amazement, asking in awe, "What sorcery is this?"

Through gritted teeth, you replied, "The oldest kind."

I felt a pounding in my ears, my own anger rising, both from the tale of devastation and from the heat of your anger, and I squeezed your shoulder as tightly as I could to distract myself, trying desperately not to lose control. "Ja... 'Seph, don't ya worry about us. This Wyrmspawn will pay for what he did to ya and yours, make no mistake. I'm not a detective for nothin', "

'Seph sighed, her immense bosom heaving as she closed her eyes, her arm tensing around Branson's chest as she said, "I can see that I'm losing this argument. Watch your backs, okay? I don't want you to strike against him if you're not sure to beat him. But, if you can... Give him hell for me?"

The dark, menacing power that seemed to emanate from your body faded as you reigned in your Rage, telling her, "We'll send him there for you."

'Seph grinned at us, then asked, "Hey, is Shang with you? I'd like to tell him something, I think it'll take a load off his mind."

Nodding your head a little, you replied, "No, but I can relay a message for you. He stayed behind in New York to bring Logan's POS home."

'Seph chuckled, then told us, "Just tell him that he doesn't have to worry about that spybox, okay? They're on our side, strange as it seem. I'm still having a little trouble wrapping my mind around that one."

I briefly wondered who, exactly, had been spying on them, but I glanced at the huge figure of Goliath and figured that there had to be some relation. What did Shang have to do with this, though? I vowed to bug him about it next time we talked.

Branson spoke up, disturbing me from my reverie, by telling me, "I sent some information on a sideband. The money in that account is yours, as I promised, for aiding Shang. I hope that'll be enough to cover your obligation to de Silva."

Goliath gestured for me to look at the screen on the projector, and I grinned down at Branson, shooting him a thumbs up as I said, "Oh, I'm bettin' it will. Thanks, man, that's gonna help out an awful lot."

You tugged on my sleeve as you transformed back to your human shape, telling me, "Logan, love, I'm tired."

I hugged your body against my chest, patting your raven-wing hair as I told them, "Well, looks like I gotta go, guys. Be careful out there."

We heard Elayne's voice from what appeared to be our right side, as she shouted to the commlink, "Hey, Lin, watch Logan's ass, eh? You know how showy he can be!"

Grinning, you rubbed the aforementioned anatomy and replied, "I'll watch his ass anyways. And, he's calmed down since we got hitched."

I laughed and replied, "Have not! Just... haven't had the need yet, yeah, that's it!"

The four Gargoyles chorused their farewells, with Reno yelling out a "Bai!" as well, then the connection clicked off.

There goes a most fascinating young man, I must add. Very few like Reno in this world... and that is perhaps a good thing.

That young man has issues, no, whole subscriptions to issues...

That is one way to describe him... and a very apt one, at that.

Goliath fiddled with the controls on the projector, resetting it to display the Castle's floorplan, then said, "It is good that they have allies such as you, to bring such good cheer. Branson and I have history together, and I am pleased to see my apprentice so happy in such dire times."

Chuckling, I wrapped my arms tight around you, telling him, "Hey, we gotta stick together. 'Specially with those Hoodie bastards out there."

Your hands wandered down along my leg, reminding me of your request, and I asked, "Um, I'm gonna have to let you go, though, Goliath_-rhya_," then added with a grin, "Somebody is getting very insistent."

You protested to my comment, growling quietly, but Goliath merely smiled again and asked, "Do you require rooms for the night? We have reworked some of the basement halls for sleeping areas."

Looking up into my eyes, you told me, "Up to you, love."

I glanced at the immense male and thought for a moment before saying, "Uhh, well... I can't think of many places where I'd feel safer. I'm good with it."

Goliath nodded, apparently pleased with our decision, then strode to the door, opening it and calling out, "Corazon, would you show our guests to the basement quarters? They will be staying the night with us."

We stepped over to the door, thanking the great Gargoyle lord for his hospitality again, then followed the soldier, who led us downstairs, to what had apparently been a small storage room, nearly filled by two beds. She told us, "We're staying in Elayne's old workshop, for now, but you'll have some privacy here. We can get the other bed out, if you want," she added with a sly wink.

You responded with your own wink, saying, "We won't be needing it."

I grinned at the marine before rolling onto the far bed, pulling you along, arranging us so that you landed next to me, my arm around your waist. As Santiago left, I said quietly, "That Goliath, ya know he's kinda infamous?"

Laying your head against my shoulder, you said, "I've heard of him. And, that is a feat unto itself."

I shook my head, wondering aloud, "Who'da thought a terrorist would end up working for the military? Seems like a nice enough guy, but he and his boys did a number on that police station."

With a sigh of relief, you took your Koto form again, then said, "Word is that he knew your President when she was still just a detective on the NYPD."

Frowning as I curled up against your fur, I said slowly, "Really? That... that doesn't make a lot of sense. Somethin's not addin' up."

I am pleased to know that he was, in fact, framed. I've always trusted my ability to judge character, and I simply could not believe that someone like him was a terrorist. A killer, certainly, but not a terrorist. Had he been a Garou, I believe he would have been a Philodox_, as I am. Frankly, I feel a little kinship with him, and if that had been true... it would have been most uncomfortable for me!_

You pulled from me so that you could stand up, then began to strip out of your clothes, folding them carefully as you set them to one side. A blissful grin on my face, I watched the curves of your body carefully, feeling my cock stiffening beneath my jeans. As you pulled your pants off, you suggested, "Maybe, you don't know the whole truth."

I sighed softly, feeling an urge to wag my currently nonexistent tail in happiness as you slipped back onto the bed, laying your hands on my arm, kneeling in front of me.

You began to unbutton my shirt, nuzzling against my chest as my skin became exposed to the air, saying softly, "Come out and play, my lovely wolf."

I started to work on my jeans and holster as you pressed yourself against me, hurling them against the wall as soon as I was freed from their confines, then began to shift to my Crinos form. You began to purr as you caressed my body, trying to coax me through the transformation, but I tried to prolong it as much as I could, letting you feel every change my body went through.

I know that you enjoy feeling my Change, my love. It seems a little odd to me to use what amounts to a weapon for pleasure... but trust me, I like it. It is something I have grown to miss tremendously...

I started to stroke your ear with one hand, your breast with the other, as I rubbed your legs with my own, growling my pleasure to you as I started to grind my hips into yours.

Just at that moment, the door opened wide as Santiago walked in, another soldier following her. He was fairly short, not much taller than me, and shorter than Santiago, but quite powerfully built. His short-furred wings, seemingly untenable for flight, curled tightly behind his back, framing what appeared to be a large sniper rifle slung over his custom B.D.U.

I figured he had to be one of the Mutates I'd read about. I thought maybe he'd been mixed with a jaguar, since his face was covered with orange fur, fading to a pale cream at his neck, with small, irregular black patches densely packed onto what surface I could see. His thick, powerful muzzle opened in a grin as he cheered, "Yeaaah! Go for it, man!"

You looked up, our bodies momentarily stilled, but grinned at the two of them, and asked cheerfully, "What? No knock?"

Santiago laughed as she moved swiftly over to the head of the empty bed, replying, "We're Army, ma'am. Nothing we haven't seen before."

Continuing to grin, you turned back to me and began to nuzzle against me again, snickering as you said, "If I knew we were going to have an audience, I would have sold tickets."

Santiago looked at the other soldier, then made an exaggerated cry of understanding, saying, "Ohh! You meant for your sake. Well, you said you wanted the bed out. Not our problem if you couldn't wait."

You laughed and glanced back over your shoulder, sticking your long, vulpine tongue out at her, saying, "Make it quick, then."

The two soldiers chorused, "Yes, ma'am!", then Santiago said, "Come on, Ding, let's do this."

With a mighty heave, they began to haul the bed out into another room, moving it easily. I just shook my head, chuckling, then looked back you and asked, "Now, where were we..."

You mock growled at me, nipping at my nose as you said, "Don't tell me you get sidetracked that easily."

Your tails combined into one, large, bushy one as you began to stroke my sheath with it. I barked out a laugh, then licked at your nose as I squeezed your breast harder, rocking my hips against you in response to the gentle urgings of your tail...

---

_Much as I wish I could continue here, I think it best for my condition if I do not. Besides, I'm certain you recall just as vividly as I what happened from here. I suppose I should mention in brief, for the sake of posterity. That is the point of this whole endeavor, after all.

We had a rather... restless night, and bleary-eyed, not to mention matted and rumpled all to hell, we asked Santiago and Chavez show us around the ruins of the Castle, and also got to see the parts of the battle that the security system caught.

I think I still have those videos around somewhere. Would you help me look for them later?

Afterwards, we bid them a farewell and hitchhiked back to my apartment, where we spent the next few days... getting to know each other better. Luna's shadow! This is driving me nuts. Okay, deep breath, deep breath. I'm trying, Lin, I really am trying to keep my emotions in check. If a fraggin' Nexus Crawler couldn't pull me down, I'll be damned if my heart will._

Let's see, where was I? Oh yeah. We spent the next few days, while we waited for Tzao and Shang to get into town, trying to find out what we could about this "Hunter". We had the time, they were coming in fairly slow as they stopped to meet with a few more caerns along the way. It didn't come to much, as he seemed to cover his tracks quite well, but we tried, and we did come up with a few leads.

Of course, I also bought off de Silva, which took much of that money that Branson had given me, but I figured it was well worth it. How little I knew, eh?

I don't really know what you were up to while I was out taking care of business. Maybe you'd care to enlighten me sometime?

Ugh, my head is killing me. I guess that'll have to be all for one day. You know, I really do appreciate you taking all this time to help me. I'm sure you'd prefer to lavish your attentions on our kit more... but I have to do this. The Silver Record is well and good, but what good does it do the Gargoyles, much less the Humans? A new tale is needed for our age, this fifth age.

I can only hope that by helping the world prepare for the sixth age this way, I might be said to have helped it pass all the quicker. Bring the young one, beloved. Rest with me awhile. Perhaps not as we once did, but your touch is still reassuring to me.

Rest easy, Beloved, I will bring Triana in momentarily, and we will lay here together while you rest, as Family should.

Thank you, dearest of my heart. I will treasure these moments, for as long as I still have.

----The End----