The Sky's the Limit
by Amanda Ohlin

The scrap of golden Christmas paper glinted from atop the bookcase, having sailed to that great height by some strange phenomenon. As he snatched it off its perch, stuffing it into the trash bag with the rest of the debris, Ray Harrison quietly marveled at just how odd the holiday could be.

Of course, this particular holiday topped them all. First there was his son's phone call, with the improbable news that Drew was suddenly HIV-negative. And just when Ray had decided that Christmas Eve couldn't get any stranger, what should crash into his shed but a real live gargoyle, who had "woken up" a few hours ago in their basement. Now, with the visiting family gone, she was helping wash dishes with his mother-in-law while his younger son and another boy grilled her about anything they could think of.

"So there's a lot more of you in Wyoming?" Nick Harrison was all but falling off his chair in excitement. Ray opened his mouth to speak, but a sharp glance from the mother-in-law told him that she would take care of it.

"There's only one of you, Nick, and I'd suggest you sit up in that chair before you break your neck." Carla Sater passed the clean dish over to Madison to dry as casually as she would pass the salt at dinner. Nothing seemed to faze Carla, aside from disobedient grandchildren, so she'd taken the young woman with aqua skin, horns, wings and tail in stride. "Maddie, dear, I'm fine right here. Why don't you sit down and tell him what he wants to know before he hurts himself?"

"I'm behaving," Dave Wilcox piped up from beside his best friend at the table. No one paid any attention to him, as usual. Madison sighed as she set the dish down and grabbed a chair, turning it sideways so she could sit without getting her tail tangled. "All right already. What do you want to know?"

"Are there a whole bunch more in Wyoming?" Nick reiterated.

"Depends on what you mean by a whole bunch." She drummed her fingers on the table, and Ray noted with some relief that she had the control not to scratch the wood. "Let's see, there's about eighteen or so in Laramie, and about seven of us in Denver. There's a really weird story behind the split, but we're all still family."

Carla snorted. "If you don't mind my saying so, this is a lousy time to be without your family. Christmas Day, for crying out loud. What made you take off?"

Madison frowned. "A lot of things. It's kind of a long story."

For the past few minutes, Ray had remained silent, his drooping salt-and pepper mustache twitching thoughtfully like a cat's whiskers. So it was something of a surprise when he spoke. "I think we've all got plenty of time. Maybe a story will put Butthead and Beavis to sleep."

"Dad," Nick groaned, rolling his eyes. "It's Beavis and Butthead."

Ray set the trash bag down as he took a seat at the table, ruffling Nick's black hair affectionately. "Whatever. You all know what I meant."

Madison lapsed into silence for a few moments, thinking. "Well, I guess it all started this summer."

August 27, 1996
Laramie County, Wyoming

"You gonna shoot sometime tonight?"

Sheridan squeezed the trigger.

In her strong grip, the rifle barely twitched as it fired with a sharp crack that echoed through the hills. The target remained in her sights as the bullet hit its mark dead-on. The empty Genessee Ale bottle shattered with a discordant tinkle of breaking glass. Smiling with self-satisfaction, she lowered the rifle and turned to her companion. "What do you say to that, Jimmy?"

Jim Watson leaned casually against the remains of an old fence, which looked at though it was going to collapse beneath his solid frame. At six foot five, Jim tended to tower over most people he knew and duck to keep from hitting his head on doorframes. His size had gotten him through college on football scholarships. Now, almost thirty years later, his face was lined somewhat by age, his dark brown hair was peppered with gray, and he wasn't up to tackling anyone anytime soon. But he was still taller than she was. He let out a low whistle of appreciation and grinned affectionately. "If that bottle weren't empty, Sherry, I say Powell'd be having puppies if he saw that."

The rose-colored gargoyle chuckled at the thought, her green eyes shining with mirth despite the appellation; for some reason, Jim was one of the select few who could get away with calling her that. "It's just Genny, for crying out loud. I swear, he loves his beer more than life itself."

"The way the munchkins are behaving, I don't blame him for trying to dope himself." He sipped his beer. "They're like Nicki was at six, only with wings and tails and claws."

Sheridan raised an eyeridge. "She was that bad?"

He thought for a minute, thinking back to family reunions. "Not really. Nic was a hell of a lot scarier."

She caught his eye and burst out laughing, throwing her head back and letting the wind ruffle her ivory hair. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Trust me, hon, you wouldn't want to. She was a walking disaster area with the loudest mouth in the family. Forget what Powell'd do about the Genny."

"Actually, Powell would probably kick my behind all the way to Phoenix if he knew," Sheridan mused. "He's still in better shape than any of the kids."

"Don't remind me," Jim groaned, rubbing his sore shoulder. "How many beers was I on when I agreed to let him arm-wrestle me again?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Lost count at five."

"Only five? Sher, you know me better."

"Jimbo, that was when DJ and Annie decided to play tag in your living room. I had my hands full."

"Again, don't remind me." Jim chuckled. A few years of friendship with a good-sized clan of gargoyles had taught Jim a thing or two. After a few rounds of Monday night football, he'd learned to keep his living room spare, nailed down, without loose bits for wings and tails to hit. Still, there was really no way to prepare for the "Terrible Two" of Clan Laramie playing aerial tag around his couch.

Shrugging it off, he lifted his shotgun, aimed briefly and fired, taking out the beer can on the next post. "So who's not here yet?"

"A few more of the kids, I think. Maddie brought some of them last night, and Nicki trucked up most of the rest."

By 'kids' she meant the split-off half of Clan Laramie, who had settled down in Denver when the clan had grown too big to hide out from the increasing numbers of tourists. Jim was sure there was another reason. If he could fit them all in the living room and barn, the combined clan was not too big to hide out easily in the mountains.

But he knew better than to ask; it wasn't his business. From the way Powell was always arguing with the leader of the Denver kids, he could make a few guesses. Cody at least had a good head on her shoulders, unlike some of her charges, but she still had a lot to learn about tact.

Sheridan was looking at him, and abruptly his train of thought turned back to Nicki. "I know Nicki did, Sher. I've heard about the horror of driving a van full of gargoyles across the state border more times than I can count."

"Well, she didn't have to if she didn't want to." Her long skirts were picked up a bit by the wind, and she brushed some of the dust off. The rose-patterned broomstick skirt and the white blouse were the closest she'd come to dressing up in a long time, and she'd only agreed to the skirt because she didn't have to tuck her tail anywhere. Jim thought she looked extraordinarily pretty, although he kept his mouth shut.

"Oh, come on. That girl lives to whine and bitch. She just needed something new to complain about."

"She's your cousin."

"I'm such a lucky man. You're up, m'dear." He paused to light a cigarette as she lined up the last can in her sights and blasted it to oblivion. From the lit ranch house and the barn nearby, he could hear sounds of laughter and arguing, and was relieved not to hear any brawling yet. It was Powell's 125th birthday, according to Sheridan and several others, and the leader of Clan Laramie spent every year amongst the entire clan combined, whether he liked it or not. Lately, the setting for the celebration was the air-conditioned ranch house with the satellite dish.

The sudden gleam of headlights coming down the road caught their attention. Alarmed, Sheridan caped her wings, glancing around for some cover.

Then a familiar howl echoed through the night, and a figure popped up from the bed of the pickup truck. It spread batlike wings as it leaned over the cab, causing the driver to make a minor course correction. "YEEEE-HAAAA!!!" Razor could be heard for miles, or so it seemed. "I am the MAN!!" He dropped back down abruptly as one of his fellow passengers yanked him back down again.

Sheridan let out a soft moan and covered her face with a hand. Chuckling, Jim patted her on the shoulder. "I guess the gang's all here. It could be worse, you know," he added.

"How?" she muttered, glancing up.

"You could be the one driving."

She thought about that as the green pickup truck pulled into the driveway, figures jumping and flying out of the truck bed with whoops and cheers of excitement even before the truck pulled to a stop. Seeing the young man climb out of the cab, shaking his head as he grabbed the six-pack and slammed the door, Sheridan started in surprise. "How the hell did they talk Alan into driving them?"

Jim waved back at his friend as Alan Dawson walked up to the front door. Most of the rowdy group were headed for the garage. "I wonder," he muttered.

As usual, Sundance nearly flattened Alan as he walked through the door, trying to be inconspicuous. But in the crowded room, no one really paid much attention. The purple garg-beast greeted everyone that way, so the sight of Sunny bowling someone else over wasn't that unusual. "Down, girl," Alan muttered, scratching her behind the ears and easing Sunny off him as he scanned the crowd.

He spotted her immediately past the many pairs of colored wings, guarding the bar. She was a fairly attractive woman in her thirties, a fact that she was highly aware of. Alan cocked his head, simultaneously admiring her tight jeans and wondering how the hell she managed to sit down in them.

At the moment, she was too busy to sit, managing the drinks with a professional air, pouring a drink with one hand and mixing one with the other. At the same time, she managed to shoo the hatchlings away from the alcohol. So absorbed was she in this task that she didn't even notice him elbow his way through the crowd to come up behind her.

"Hey, doll," Alan murmured in his longtime girlfriend's ear. "Did I miss anything?"

Nicola Van Tyle set down the bottle and shot glass as he wrapped his arms around her. She leaned back into Alan's embrace, turning to meet his warm kiss. The gargoyles she was serving got the hint and turned elsewhere. "The usual insanity, of course."

He spied the two hatchlings sitting in the corner, obviously guilty looks on their faces. "Not air tag again."

"That was a while ago. You all right?"

"I'll live. Carting the idiot squad up here wasn't that great."

"Tell me about it. I had to drive right from work back to Denver, change, get the van from Kelly, find the guys outside town, and then drive--"

"--over 70 miles to get here," Alan finished. "Let me guess, you had to walk thirty miles to school in the snow when you were a kid, right?"

Nicki turned as red as her hair dye. "Don't start with me. I've had a bad night."

"You just need a reason to complain."

"I do not!"

"Sure you do. I can't remember a time when you haven't found something to whine about."

"What about that cruise I won last summer?"

"Dana got a sunburn and the cruise director was 'a pompous ass.'"

"Well, he was."

"You could have just ignored him."

Nicki pulled back slightly, looking mildly irritated. "Why are we talking about this?"

He grinned. "You brought it up."

"Ooooh! Alan, I'm gonna--" She was silenced as he kissed her again, and she returned it fiercely, holding it for several moments.

When the kiss finally ended, they stared at each other, dazed. "What were we fighting about again?"

"I forget. Does it matter?"

She sighed. "Why am I still going out with you?"

"Because I've got a decent job and you need someone quick enough to argue with you."

Nicki smiled, their argument forgotten. She pulled away and picked up the bottle of tequila. "I'll drink to that."

"Tell me something I don't know. You could drink even Powell under the table," Alan joked, glancing at the leathery old gargoyle sitting at the poker table with several others.

Nicki looked shocked. "Alan!!"

"What? It's true."

She stuck her tongue out at him and poured two glasses, adding vodka and some Mountain Dew to hers. "I am not that bad!"

He made a face. "Yech. Look at this. Are you pouring drinks or doing a chemistry experiment? You might blow up Jimmy's house if you're not careful."

"Liar. That could never happen."

"Yes, it could," a voice interrupted, making them jump. "It's technically a stretch, but any form of alcohol is flammable as hell. Like Molotov cocktails. All you'd have to do is get maybe 100 proof, fill a bottle, light a fuse, and--"

Nicki snorted. "Colleen, that's not going to happen here." The reddish-brown gargoyle merely grinned, enjoying their discomfort. In human terms, she was in her late teens, with a figure to match--sort of. At five foot six with her wings caped, Colleen found it easy to sneak up on people, looking like a miniature of those around her age. She smoothed out the white streak in her mane of jet black hair, her hazel eyes shining with amusement.

"I don't think that's exactly how they did it," Alan murmured thoughtfully. Nicki stared at him, and he hastily changed the subject. "But come on, vodka, tequila, and Dew? You drink like--like--"

Colleen raised a brow ridge, shifting into her Spock impression. "Like a college student, Doctor?"

Alan shrugged. "Close enough."

"How would you know?" Nicki asked. Colleen was starting to make her slightly uncomfortable, which was nothing new.

Of all the gargoyles crowded in the living room, she was the resident eccentric: moody, occasionally obsessed with death, a daredevil, but still amazingly bright. Out of curiosity, Alan had given her a set of problems he'd assigned his physics students, and to his shock, she had whipped through it as if it was nothing.

"Because I eavesdrop on everybody," Colleen responded cheerfully. "I folded in poker, so I get to play waitress."

Alan blinked. "You folded already?"

"I'm better at blackjack. Or Risk. Something that requires thinking. Besides, Maddie's on another hot streak tonight."

Nicki rolled her eyes. "Great."

"Well, it's your fault. You taught her the tricks in the first place." Colleen rattled off the list of orders from memory. "Two Gennys, one Jack Daniels, three Buds, a Sex on the Beach, a vodka with OJ, and a plain Dew for me."

Sighing, Nicki pulled the bottles out of the fridge and hastily mixed the concoctions. While her back was turned, Alan dumped her own recipe in the sink.

Colleen took her orders and retreated to the poker game, and Nicki glanced at the counter. "Where'd my drink go?"

Alan changed the subject. "Hey, when did you decide to go redhead?"

She raised a hand to her red-gold hair, a shade that was obviously artificial but still stunning. "Does it look too Raggedy Ann? Bozo the Clown?"

"It looks beautiful."

Nicki forgot about her drink.

The eight players around the poker table barely noticed her approach, absorbed in their hands. From the looks of the pile of chips, the stakes were extremely high. Colleen sidled over to Razor, who normally didn't join the poker game. "Who's still in?" she whispered.

"Everyone but Woody," Razor muttered, flicking his gaze over to the bright green male who had fallen asleep in his chair. His cigarette was still lit, hanging out of his mouth, and Colleen stifled a laugh. "Talk about a walking fire hazard."

"So what do you get out of this?" she added.

He looked her outfit over appreciatively, waggling his eye ridges as he took in the purple sports bra and drawstring pants. "Winner of this hand gets to pick how the next round goes."

"Which is why there's no way in hell we're letting you win," Powell added loudly.

Razor snorted. "Come on! What's wrong with strip poker, anyway?" One of the females smacked him in the back of the head. "Ow! Watch it!"

"All righty then," Colleen said loudly, switching to her Fran Drescher impression, interrupting before a fight broke out to distribute the drinks. "We got a Jack Daniels, a Genny, vodka with OJ, a Coke, Bud, Bud, and another Bud."

"Weis," Madison said, not looking up from her cards as Colleen set the bottle in front of her. She barely moved except to flick a lock of wavy blonde hair out of her face, her main concentration on her hand. From the size of her pile of chips, it was paying off. Her poker face was almost as good as Powell's.

"Errrrr," Logan drawled. The blue-gray gargoyle set his cards face down on the table. "I fold."

Razor did a double take at the Bud in front of him. "A Bud? That's it? C'mon, girl, gimme something strong!"

"A Bud is the strongest thing anyone's giving you tonight," Powell commented. The gray-green gargoyle studied his cards casually as he opened the bottle with his free hand. If there was a head of the poker table, it was always the one he occupied. For someone who had been around as long as he had, Powell was anything but feeble. His mane had gone from auburn to steely gray over the years, his lined face betrayed his age, but he could still take pride in scaring any of his clanmates shitless.

He flicked an ash off his green flannel shirt and put his cards down. "We all remember what you did last year. I fold."

"So do I," the golden female chuckled. "And I thought Razor was annoying when he was sober." Her auburn hair was falling out of her ponytail in wisps as she glanced from her cards to the pile and back again before slamming the cards on the table. "Forget it, I'm out too."

"Oh yeah," Colleen added, setting a drink in front of her. "And a Sex on the Beach for you, Cody." She made sure to emphasize the name of the drink loudly enough for Powell to hear it. The leader of Clan Denver shot her a scathing glare that Colleen ignored as usual.

Several pairs of eyes stared at Cody. Even Razor seemed mildly impressed; his crest of olive spikes poked up briefly out of his black hair like a five-second mohawk.

Powell shot her a skeptical look, his steely gaze causing her to squirm in her seat. "So what do they put in that, Cody?" he asked her calmly, leaning back slightly on the stool.

"Pretty much everything," the girl beside Razor said, tucking a lock of brown hair behind her ear. While her mother continually switched hair color, Dana Van Tyle considered herself to be the living reminder of Nicki's true coloring.

Cody glanced up at the kitchen and changed the subject. "Look who's at it again," she said, gesturing to Nicki and Alan, who were oblivious to everything around them.

Dana followed her gaze and rolled her eyes. "They ought to get a room. I'll raise you ten."

That left Dana, Razor, and Madison. "Aah, I'll call your bluff," Razor drawled.

"Same here," Madison said.

"Just show your hands already," Colleen said. "This isn't Maverick, you know."

"Two pair," Dana said casually, spreading out her two queens, two tens, a five and a six. Razor muttered something unprintable as he revealed only a pair of kings, and Madison just gaped. "What, you can't beat me? Mom taught me all the dealer's tricks, too, you know."

The aqua gargoyle stared dumbly at the hand for a moment, then started laughing hysterically. As the group looked at her with worry, she spread out her hand: two queens, two tens, a five and a six. "I think we tied." Powell laughed heartily at the look on Razor's face.

Razor began banging his head on the table as the fourteen-year-old girl and the gargoyle split the pot. "It's not fair," he moaned melodramatically as Colleen patted him on the back, trying not to laugh at his theatrics. "I just can't win!"

More rowdy shouts erupted from the house as Alan closed the door, but no sound of anything breaking yet. As large and sprawling as it was, the ranch house couldn't easily accommodate and hide a large number of statues during the day. None of the clans were going to go home flying drunk, and Nicki had loudly insisted that she was not providing a taxi service again in the morning.

Jim figured he couldn't complain. Aside from Nicki in Denver, he didn't have much in the way of family to speak of, and the ranch house was big enough and lonely enough to accommodate company. And most of the clan were interesting company to have around. He could handle the weirdness. At the very least, being the owner of the satellite dish earned him a respect that he might otherwise not have had.

"That's it for the targets," Sheridan said, startling him out of his reverie. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Not worth it," he said. She gave him a knowing look. "All right, all right. Just thinking about how all this started."

She smirked at the memory. "Now that was interesting."

July 22, 1991
Guernsey State Park, Wyoming

"How in the hell did we manage this?" Jim muttered for the twenty-third time as he set the jack with a cinder block. "Got her!" he cried as the leverage held.

The young man next to him reacted surprisingly quickly, unscrewing the flat tire with lightning speed. Jim was mildly surprised. "Damn. You're better than I thought."

"My dad," Alan grunted, "used to run an auto shop. Made me work on weekends without pay." He managed to loosen the tire and eased it out, keeping an eye on the angle of the RV. "Why do you think I decided to teach?"

"I just can't believe it," Jim sighed as he helped Alan get the spare in place.

Alan sighed as he made sure everything was lined up and pushed in as far as it could be, slipping a little in the muck. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Jim."

"It's not you," Jim said as Alan secured the tire. "Nicki dating a high school physics teacher. Good God."

"I've heard plenty about the guys who came before. Don't remind me." Alan finished the last bolt. "Think that's good enough to get us out of here?"

Jim peered at the tire as Alan stood up. "It had better be. Where's Nicki and the polar bear?"

"Right here, Uncle Jim!!" Dana shouted, waving her arms. The ten-year-old was standing beside her mother, who was huddled in her rain poncho. Nicki seemed ready to wrap herself up in the plastic and disappear. They were well clear of the RV, guarding the pile of bags and cases and important possessions by a dead tree near the edge of the ravine. Jim privately thought they were still too damned close to the water, but arguing over that was almost a moot point in the heavy rain.

The camping trip had been going as well as could be expected up until then. Nicki had been whining, Alan had been countering every complaint, and Dana had rolled her eyes at the immaturity of the adults around her. But they'd been on the right road, with the correct camping permits.

Then the rain had started churning up mud, and the front tire had gone over something sharp, blowing out completely and sending the RV skidding off the road. Jim had managed to stop in time to keep it from going into the river, but just barely. After several failed attempts to get a hold of the park rangers, Jim had decided to try to change the tire without knocking the RV into the water.

Not that there was much of a choice. The heavy downpour was melting the ground into mud, and the camper would tip if they did nothing. Even the shot from Alan's flare gun hadn't brought any attention. Jim wondered if all the park rangers hadn't suddenly keeled over. Nicki had been fiddling with the radio for hours, and no vehicles had passed by.

"Okay, Alan," Jim said. "I'm gonna take her down now."

He carefully took hold of the jack, briefly scowling at it. It was probably older than he was, and so rusted it was a miracle he'd been able to use it in the first place. The jack was perched on a broken cinder block, having only partially opened, and Jim figured that it was going to have to go first.

Inch by inch, he began to ease it out with one hand, the other pressing against the camper. As the jack slid out, Jim and Alan pressed their weight against the RV, trying to slow the sudden drop as Nicki muttered something unprintable and hurried to pull the cinder block out. The tires on their side hit the ground with a squelch.

There was a sickening moment in which the RV started to slide just a bit in the mud--and stopped. Alan exhaled loudly. Jim let out a whoop of joy.

Nicki moaned and ineffectually tried to brush the mud off her poncho. "This is not how I imagined this trip."

"What are you whining about now?" Jim asked. "For Chrissakes, we got the tire changed with a bad jack, all the muck in the world, no park rangers, and you're complaining?"

"Well, now that the tire's changed, genius, what are we going to do now?" They had no response, and she turned suddenly. "Wait a minute, where's Dana?" Her daughter was nowhere to be seen. "Dana? Dana!"

Jim and Alan joined the chorus. "DANA!!!"

Panicked, Nicki forgot entirely about the RV, the rain, and the mud, lurching unsteadily towards the tree where the equipment was stacked. "Dana!! Where are you? Answer me!!"

"Mom?"

On the incline leading down to the river, Dana was on her knees, hanging on to a rocky ledge. "Oh my God!" Nicki cried, dropping to her hands and knees to peer over the edge. "Baby, I'm right here. It's going to be okay. Just hang on!" She turned to shout back at Jim and Alan. "Get me some rope! Or some chain! Or something!"

Dana was shaking her head, a little of her bravado restored by Nicki's presence. "I can climb up, Mom!"

"NO! Dana, stay where you are! Jim, hurry up, damn it!"

But her daughter didn't listen, struggling to reach a ledge higher up. She managed to get a grip on it, pulling herself just within Nicki's reach. Seeing this, Nicki stretched out her arms just as Dana's fingers slipped from the wet rock.

Nicki shrieked and lunged forward, grabbing Dana's wrist in panic as the girl started to slide away. But all that did was pull her down as well. With a scream, both females vanished over the edge, sliding into the churning water below.

"NICKI! DANA!" Alan stumbled to the edge, training the heavy-duty flashlight over the water. Suddenly, the beam passed over one head--no, two-- as he spotted Dana and Nicki respectively clinging to a rock jutting above the current and a dead branch closer to the bank.

Scrambling to his feet, he dashed back to the nearby tree where Jim was frantically lashing the rope around its trunk. He took the other end and tied it firmly around his own waist, making sure it was secure. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jim snapped. "I was going to--"

"I'm going in after them! Jim, I'm lighter than you are, and I don't trust that tree to hold me forever!"

Jim had to admit that Alan had a point. The younger man was shorter and thinner than he was, and probably had a better chance at keeping his footing. "All right," he said, taking the flashlight from Alan. "I'm gonna let it out slow so I can keep the light on you. I'm not letting you go down blind. Be careful."

Alan nodded and dropped to his hands and knees as he eased over the incline, finding some rocky ledges for footholds and handholds. His route forced him to come right beneath the RV's shadow, and Jim made sure there was light down there. The moon poked briefly out of the clouds, and he could still make out movement in the water that looked like Nicki and Dana.

Another movement caught his attention, and he turned to see that the RV was tipping, ever so slowly, towards the river. And Alan was right in its path.

Horrified, Jim nearly dropped the rope. But with one hand on the rope and the other holding the flashlight, he was stuck. "ALAN!!!" he bellowed with all his might. "ALAN!! GET OUT OF THERE!" The young man stopped, confused, glancing back at him.

Gesturing wildly, Jim flashed the light on the RV and back to Alan. "IT'S GONNA TIP!" he screamed, trying to be heard over the storm. "GET OUT OF THE WAY!!!"

Then Alan saw the RV tipping, and cast about for an escape as the vehicle began to slide towards the edge. Jim cursed and tried to pull Alan back in. But Alan lost his footing, and the sudden yank in the rope caused Jim to slip and fall. He landed on his stomach, sliding down the incline, grabbing uselessly at the mud-greased rope as it slipped from his grasp. Jim clawed at the muddy earth as he tumbled towards the water.

Suddenly, he found out why Nicki and Dana had hit the water so quickly as the slope disappeared beneath him. Plunging a hand into the muck, his searching fingers closed around a tree root as his descent finally stopped, leaving Jim half- suspended over the rushing water below. Wrapping both hands around the root, he glanced down at the river. The rain had taken a slice out of the bank where he was, leaving a straight drop. The earth had already eroded up to the roots of the trees, so the heavy rain had probably just taken it all out at once.

Jim thought he could hear Nicki and Dana not far away. But blinded by a blur of mud and water, he couldn't tell where they were coming from. "Nic!"

No answer. It occurred to him that he could let himself drop and swim out to one of them, but if they were upstream there wasn't a chance in hell he'd get to them. Jim lifted his face into the rain, trying to clear his eyes, and blinked as he spotted the shape flying towards him from above. It was too big to be a bird, and looked almost human--but with wings?

"Great," Jim muttered. "I'm seeing angels now." He coughed and shouted again. "Nic! Dana! Can you hear me?" He was starting to lose his grip on the root.

"I can sure as hell hear you!" a woman's voice answered, as a hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed his wrist. He couldn't quite see who it was, but Jim still had the common sense to grab on to his rescuer's hand with his free hand as he was pulled up and suddenly lifted into the air. "Stop staring at me and catch that thing already!" she shouted to unseen others as they came over the rise, heading back towards solid ground. Jim was promptly set down a few yards away from the edge, gently enough to stand.

Then he remembered the RV. Jim whirled, expecting to see the motor home crashing down the ravine and flattening Alan.

He was shocked to see it tipping the other way, pushed by three dark shapes who easily managed to right the RV and shove it back to dry ground and several feet away from the edge. A fourth figure, winged, sailed in for a landing nearby, shouting something at the other three.

His rescuer landed beside him in a crouch and squatted there for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Whew! You're heavier than you look, you know that?"

"Thanks," Jim gasped, wiping the mud from his face to clear his vision. It was then that he got a decent glimpse of his rescuer. Briefly, his brain registered the wings, tail, taloned hands and feet. He blinked a few times, then filed it along with the rest of the night's insanity and helped her stand. "You going to be all right?" he asked as she stood up. The rain was finally beginning to let up, and he was able to see her more clearly.

Aside from the extra appendages, dusky rose coloring, and pointed ears, she looked somewhat human, maybe in her late thirties or early forties. Maybe it was the Denver Broncos sweatshirt and jeans she was wearing, or maybe it was the fact that her figure was still undeniably female. At his concern, she smoothed back her shoulder-length white hair, blinking at him in surprise. "I'm fine." She cocked her head, putting her hands on her hips. "Am I missing something? Isn't this the part where you scream and run from the monsters?"

"I look at it this way," Jim answered. "You just saved my sorry ass from drowning, so if you had sixteen arms and three eyes I'd be grateful." He extended a hand. "Jim Watson."

Her surprise was replaced by genuine delight at some actual gratitude, and she shook his hand with a smile. "Sheridan."

Jim grinned back, then froze, remembering. "Shit! I forgot! What about--"

Before he could finish, Alan stumbled into view. "Jesus, Jim, I swear to God I was hallucinating a minute ago--" The younger man stopped, seeing Sheridan standing there. "Oh. Never mind. I guess not."

"So what? You're still nuts!" a voice shouted from behind the camper, which was settling to a slow stop in the mud. The rain had finally died away.

"Great," Alan muttered, limping over to them. "Not only do we get saved by a bunch of guys with wings, I get the wiseass." He glanced over at the rose-colored creature beside Jim. "Uh, no offense." There was a snicker from the top of the RV, and Jim noticed that a younger female was perched on top, golden in coloring with reddish-brown hair.

Sheridan shrugged and waved it off. "Forget it. Let me guess, the skinny one with the dreads and the army jacket?" Alan nodded. "Yep, that's normal for Razor." She glanced back towards the RV and the laughing shadows behind it. "Hey! Larry! Curly! Moe! If you're going to act like idiots, do it where I can see you, please. Thank you!"

The three of them shuffled into the light reluctantly, trading insults and shoving each other like a group of teenagers. Grinning, the female slid from her perch to harass them. Jim immediately identified the wiseass, a dark olive male, taller than the other two with dreadlocks and a goatee, a camouflage jacket hanging off his skinny frame. The two other males were trying and failing to hide their guilty expressions.

"Clear the runway!" a voice suddenly shouted. Above them, another winged female was coming in for a landing with an absolutely stunned Nicki as cargo. "Uptight passenger here!" The three males muttered something and immediately backed away.

Nicki was set gently on her feet, but her rescuer ended up on her knees in the mud, getting a round of mock applause from the trio of guys. "Nice landing," remarked the shortest of the three, a bluish-gray male with orange hair and a Star Trek t-shirt. The golden female smacked him upside the head.

"Kiss my ass, Logan," the aqua female muttered, flinging her blonde hair out of her face as she tried to brush the mud off her jeans. "Are you all right?" she asked Nicki, who was nearly hyperventilating in shock. Alan moved to intercept the impending panic attack, and Nicki promptly threw herself at him, sobbing in his arms.

"Oh, Jesus," Jim sighed, although he couldn't fault Nicki for being hysterical. He turned back to Sheridan. "So who are you...uh...people?"

"We're gargoyles," the blonde said, as if it was common knowledge. She cast an anxious glance over at Nicki and Alan. "Um, is she going to be all right?"

Nicki finally lifted her head, having exhausted her initial shock. "Where's Dana?" She looked around frantically. "Oh, God, where's--"

She didn't get to finish the sentence as laughter could suddenly be heard. "No way! You really snuck into a tent to get some Band-Aids?"

"I just took some gauze," the smallish red-brown gargoyle said as she and Dana came into view, chatting like best friends. A dark purple animal plodded along beside them, a massive doglike creature with huge paws, no fur, and a stubby tail that wagged frantically as Dana scratched the animal's head. "It was either that or let Sunny get the cut infected. Dogs are dumb as dirt no matter what species they come from."

Dana was in awe. "That is so cool. I'd never have the guts to do something like that." Seeing the look on her mother's face, she moaned. "Mom, I'm okay. Really." Nicki smothered her in a hug anyway. "Aw, Mom!" Her savior grinned and headed over to the golden female, shaking her head.

"It's a Kodak moment!" Razor exclaimed sarcastically, stomping over to the blonde. "Okay, Wonder Woman, now what're we gonna do?"

"Do? About what?"

He snorted, trying to be intimidating, but it came out as complete whining. "About what? I had to dig my feet in the muck and now we're all gonna end up in a zoo, thanks to Miss Madison having to play hero! Man, I don't believe this!"

"That makes two of us," Nicki murmured. Sheridan snorted in amusement.

Madison wasn't amused. "Shut up, Razor. Stop being an idiot for once."

"I'm not gonna shut up! I know what's gonna happen when we're found out. I'm gonna end up as a lab rat." He took her by the shoulders and shook her in a panic. "I'm too young to be dissected!"

Rolling her eyes, Madison peeled his talons off and shoved him back roughly. "I don't believe you! Do you see any doctors with dissection tools here? I don't. What did you expect to do, take off and let people drown? Grow up already."

With that parting shot, she stalked off to join Sheridan beside Jim and Alan. "Ignore him," she muttered at their startled looks. "I figure he's just got some kind of chemical imbalance or something."

"Thanks for nothing," Razor muttered.

The golden female sighed. "This, from the moron who started all this to go dive bombing right next to one of the campgrounds."

Razor's head whipped around. "Cody, you calling me a moron?"

The one male who hadn't spoken, bright green with purple wing membranes and a shock of white hair, pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and shook one out. "You heard the lady. And Cody's got a point, too."

Razor started towards the speaker, looking annoyed and failing to look tough. "You want a piece of me? Huh? Do you, Woody?"

"No he doesn't," Cody snapped quickly, but the other two ignored her.

Woody pulled out a lighter and lit a cigarette. "You're not worth it."

"What's the matter? Don't think you can take me?" Cody groaned and covered her face with a hand, shaking her head.

His opponent rolled his eyes, pointing at the red-brown female. "Are you kidding? Colleen could take you down."

Colleen pouted. "Oh, thanks a lot."

"That's it," Razor said, and grabbed Woody by the scruff of the collar. Cody was about to get between them, but Madison grabbed her arm, shaking her head.

In a single, fluid motion, Sheridan moved between the two, grabbing each of their collars and holding them at arm's length. She paused only to snatch Woody's cigarette, flicking it into the mud. "That's enough!" she snapped, glaring at them. "Razor, Woodrow, both of you settle down right now. Or I'll smack some sense into you if I have to. There are hatchlings who are more mature." With that comment, she released them, stubbing the cigarette out with a toe claw.

Razor was snickering. "Hey, Woodrow, how you doing?" Woody kicked him and stomped off muttering something. Sheridan sighed, and Cody intercepted Woody, ready to tell him off.

Dana and was doting over the dog-thing with Colleen. The beast was enjoying the attention to no end, its tongue lolling happily. "Well, at least someone's behaving tonight," Sheridan said ruefully. "I need a drink."

"I could really use a shot of vodka," Nicki murmured tiredly. "Because if I'm not drunk right now, I'm going to need to be good and smashed to hear the explanation for this one."

Alan nudged her. "So this is what you're teaching Dana." Too tired to come up with a retort, Nicki merely leaned against him as he glanced back at Sheridan, then past her to the group of younger ones who were bickering among themselves quietly. "They all yours?"

"I'm not sure," she answered. "It's a long story."

"Well," Jim said after a long, awkward pause, "we're gonna have to wait til it dries up to move out again in this, and I know Nic stashed the beer somewhere." He grinned at Nicki's indignant snort before continuing. "What do you say we round the rest of the kids up and hear that story over some beers?"

Alan and Nicki stared at him. "What??" Nicki asked in disbelief. "Are you kidding?"

"Sure I am. They pulled us out of the drink, saved Alan from being crushed, got the camper away from the water, and we're just going to blow them off and pretend like nothing happened," Jim snapped sarcastically.

Sheridan was shaking her head. "No, that's all right. I'd better get the crew back to camp before they cause more trouble." She turned to go, then added, "Thanks for not screaming and running, though. It's a welcome change."

"Dana!" Nicki exclaimed, watching her daughter and Colleen play fetch with the dog-creature. "Hon, you don't know where he's been!"

"Yeah, I do!" the girl exclaimed, patting the dog's head. "She was just in the river with us when she pulled me out!"

Colleen shrugged. "I sure couldn't have carried her."

Nicki turned red, staring first at her daughter playing with the animal and then glancing at Sheridan's retreating form. With a sigh, she detached herself from Alan and hurried after the rose gargoyle. "Wait!" she exclaimed, putting a hand on the other's shoulder. As Sheridan turned, she sighed. "Jim's right, and I'm an idiot."

"Can I have that in writing?" Jim teased as he and Alan followed, coming up beside them.

Ignoring him, Nicki continued. "I should have said this already, but thank you. You saved my baby. And you did manage to pull these two stubborn jerks out while you were at it," she added with a small smile, enjoying the slight rise she got out of Jim and Alan.

"Mom, I'm not a baby!" Dana insisted.

"Is there a point to this, Nic?" Alan asked.

"The point is, if you would let me get to it, Alan, that we at least owe you guys a drink and a chance to dry off."

"By Jove, Watson, I think she's got it!" Colleen exclaimed in a faux British accent. Sheridan turned and shot her a look. "Oh, come on. Razor can't always be the wiseass. And I'm cold."

Those words were punctuated by a stream of pleas from Logan, Woody, Cody, and Razor. "Yeah, it's freezing out here!" "Are we gonna do something instead of standing here?" ""Look at this! I've got icicles on my tail!" Madison sighed, sent a what-have-I-done- to-suffer-these-idiots glance at the sky, and then just grinned at their silliness.

Sheridan looked from the small group of gargoyles to the four humans and sighed. "I don't have a choice, do I?" She broke into a grin. "What the hell." The younger gargoyles cheered. "But I'm not letting any of you touch a beer tonight!"

Some of the cheers turned into groans as Nicki grabbed Alan's elbow and dragged him into the camper to help her find the cooler. Dana was sitting on top of Sunny, pretending the big creature was a pony as Nicki shoved Alan out again, insisting that she knew where it was and could do it herself. Alan shrugged helplessly as Sheridan turned to Jim. He extended a hand, and she took it. "What can I say? Welcome to the family."

"So what did you mean by that?" Sheridan asked, the corner of her mouth quirking in a sly smile.

Jim blinked, shaken out of his reverie. "You know what I meant. Now get down from there and let me get it."

She was standing on a pair of crates on the floor of the old barn, precariously balanced on the tips of her toe claws as she tried to reach into a small space beneath the loft. In the very back was a cardboard box filled with Powell's birthday gifts. The head of Clan Laramie was notorious for finding presents ahead of time, and the hiding place under the loft was the best place to keep the gifts under wraps. But it wasn't the easiest to retrieve them from.

"I can manage just fine, and you didn't answer my question." Sheridan made another try for the box, and the crate beneath her feet wobbled. Jim moved to stand behind her.

"I told you the last time you asked."

"Tell me again, and maybe I'll get down." She swiped for the box again, her talons just brushing the surface. "Next time, remind me not to let Woody stash the gifts."

Seeing her tilting dangerously, Jim stepped up to put his hands around her waist, putting one foot on the crate to steady it. Her arms may have been a bit longer, but the extra weight of her wings and tail was throwing her balance off just a bit too much for his tastes. "Next time."

At his touch, she turned and grinned at him over her shoulder before going back to her search. "Don't you start trying to put the moves on me."

He grinned. "That's for later."

Sheridan burst out laughing. "Stop tickling!" Her claws snagged something. "Wait, I think I've got it--no, I don't-- yes, I do--oh, shit!!!"

The last word was screamed as the bottom crate suddenly slid out from under Jim's foot, sending the stack tumbling to the floor. As the crates vanished from beneath her feet, she grabbed at the box wildly, hanging there for a second and swinging inward before she began to slide back. A few moments of flailing wings and limbs ensued, and the next thing either knew, they landed in a heap in the hay.

Jim blinked a few times, realizing that they'd landed beneath the loft. "Just how in the hell did we do that?"

"I don't want to know. Are you all right?"

He shifted. "Sher, I can't move my legs."

Shocked, she whipped her head around to stare at him.

"What? You can't have--I've got to call a doctor--"

Chuckling, he finished the thought. "You're sitting on 'em."

Her jaw dropped, and she grabbed a handful of hay and threw it at him. "Why, I ought to--" Jim tried to retaliate as she tried to stand, and they only succeeded in falling back down again, tangled up in the hay.

Suddenly, there was a scraping, sliding sound as the box fell to the ground, flipping over and landing right side up right in front of them. The two of them glanced at the box, at each other, and back to the box again. They broke out laughing uncontrollably, and it was a few minutes before either of them could calm down.

"So," Sheridan said after a moment. "You didn't answer the question."

"Sher, I meant what I said," Jim sighed. "The angel of my dreams swooped down and saved my sorry ass, so what was I supposed to say?"

She snorted. "Are you flirting or just kissing ass, dear?"

Without really thinking about it, Jim tipped Sheridan's chin up to meet his eyes. "I don't kiss ass."

"Oh, really?" She smiled, her eyes sparkling mischievously as they leaned towards each other--

"JIM!! SHERRY!! Come see this!"

At the shout, Sheridan pulled away, and Jim groaned. "Damn."

Hastily, the two of them scrambled to their feet, brushing the hay off of hair and clothing as a reddish-brown blur sped through the doors and nearly landed on top of them. Colleen had to be the fastest flyer in either clan, but she really hadn't perfected her braking skills.

She managed a wobbly landing, out of breath and excited. Jim managed to catch her by the shoulders and steady her before she could fall flat on her face. "Whoa! Hold on there! Where's the fire?"

She glanced at them suspiciously and then thoughtfully for a moment before regaining her train of thought. "I'm really sorry, well, not really, but there's something serious on the news you've got to see!" She dropped to all fours and started back towards the house, then stopped when she realized she was alone. "Well, come on already!"

Jim and Sheridan exchanged glances, then followed, lugging the crate between them.

They just barely managed to squeeze into the living room, and it was only Sheridan's status as second-in-command and Jim's status as owner of the television set that got them into a position to see the screen. "Good evening," the anchor was saying. "Tonight, our headline story: the news that has rocked Manhattan, if not the world. We have exclusive footage that proves that a popular urban myth is now urban reality."

The screen switched to footage of a pair of gargoyles gliding between buildings as Alan and Nicki emerged from the kitchen. Seeing what was on the screen, Nicki nearly choked on the sandwich she was nibbling. Jim and Sheridan stared as the anchor simply stated, "Gargoyles exist and are living among us."

Colleen snorted. "It took them this long to figure that out?"

There was a stunned silence as the "man-on-the-street" snippets raced by, all of fearful and angry human faces. Cody jumped up at a jogger's comment, her eyes blazing red with rage. "Dissect one? DISSECT one? I'd just like to see them try and dissect me!"

"Settle down!" Sheridan shouted, grabbing Cody's arm. "Smashing Jim's TV set isn't going to make them any less ignorant!"

"Thanks, Sher," Jim said. "I think." She reached over and squeezed his hand understandingly.

The scene switched to a taped interview from Night Watch with a redheaded cop. "Gargoyles Task Force?" Logan muttered. "Is it just me, or does anyone else think of Gestapo?"

"All of you shut your traps now!" Powell barked. "I want to hear this!" He picked up the remote and turned up the volume.

"Any truth to the rumors that industrialist David Xanatos is harboring the gargoyles atop his castle skyscraper?" the interviewer was saying. A shot of a massive glass-and-steel skyscraper with what looked like a stone castle flashed briefly onscreen. Madison's eyes narrowed.

Maybe Jim was imagining things, but he was sure that he saw Detective Bluestone twitch before answering. "All leads are being investigated."

The announcer looked a bit put-out. "Mr. Xanatos could not be reached for comment." The picture faded out.

When the commercial faded in, Razor shouted, "That's IT?"

Everyone in the room started talking at once. Cody and Powell fell to arguing again. Sheridan groaned and tried to either reason with her clanmates or at least shut them up. Sundance, startled by the action, ran around in circles, barking noisily. Colleen and Dana made a beeline for the hatchlings, who were either confused as to what just happened or scared for no reason. Madison merely sat there, motionless, her lips pursed in thought as the wheels started turning in her head.

Nicki was panicking to Alan. "Did you hear that? What if someone catches on up here?"

Jim glanced around apprehensively, not wanting to have to plunge in to damage control. Instead, he turned to the bar, clearing off a good-sized space, then climbed up to stand on top of the counter, putting a hand on the ceiling to steady himself. He tried to flag them down for attention without success, so he resorted to drastic measures. "Everybody SHUT UP!!" he roared, the shout as loud as any gargoyle's roar.

Surprised, the group did quiet down. Powell even looked mildly impressed. "Let's get something straight here. Number one: this is not New York. All of that bullshit is in another time zone."

One of the older females gasped and clapped her hands over Annie's ears. "Oh, come on, Laurel," Sheridan said. "They've heard worse from these men already. It's too late."

"Number two," Jim continued, "if you break something, you'll work the cost off for me. I've got enough bills to pay. Number three: I thought that we were here for a party. Which means actually having fun."

"Don't forget humiliating the birthday boy," someone shouted. Laughter bubbled up at that comment. Powell just snorted good-naturedly and patted Sunny's head. In the panic, she had ended up trying to hide beneath his chair.

"So are we going to have fun or what?" Dana shouted from somewhere in the crowd.

More laughter and shouts of agreement ensued, and Sheridan helped Jim step down from the table without tripping over tails. "I've got to say it, Jimbo," she teased. "I'm impressed."

He grinned widely. "It's a gift."

"Speaking of which," Powell exclaimed over the din, "it is still my birthday. So where's the damned presents?"

In the resulting commotion, it was easy for Madison to slip outside.

She flew north along Route 287 until she spotted the break in the highway, and banked west, heading towards the nearby foothills that were usually a safe retreat. The cliff she settled on was overlooking the stretch of highway, a dark ribbon with an occasional set of headlights passing by. Madison leaned back against a rock and pulled her knees towards her chest as she stared up at the night sky.

It had been impossible to think with all the commotion, and the news report was nagging at her still. Gargoyles in New York? Not that Cody and company hadn't been doing well in Denver, but New York City?

She couldn't really answer that question for herself. She'd never been to New York. Come to think of it, she'd never been to anyplace outside of Wyoming and Colorado. The farthest north she'd ever been was up at Yellowstone, and she'd never been south of Pueblo. As much land as her world covered, it was only a small slice of the whole pie. The reason that there were so many places to hide and so much land to cover was simply because the human population was more spread out instead of bunched together, unable to build over nature.

But it wasn't going to be here forever. There wasn't always going to be a place to hide.

The major reason for the "Big Split" was that the clan had flourished in the natural reserves and parks far more than anyone had expected. Almost seventy percent of the land was government owned, and it provided a safe haven for a gargoyle clan.

As their numbers grew, so did the sightings. Morons like Razor and Woody would go dive bombing too close to camp sites and be spotted by campers. Then the sightings would turn into ghost stories, and enough of them would bring serious investigation.

What had the final solution been? To break up the clan and find a new place to hide. Actually, it had a lot to do with the younger gargoyles and the older ones disagreeing, especially the phenomenon of Cody versus Powell. But the point was: They were still hiding. And how long could they hide?

"Clear the runway!" a voice crowed. "We're coming in for an emergency landing!"

Madison glanced up to see Razor gliding in to land beside her, stirring up a small cloud of dust. "Ta da! Thank you for riding Razor Airways!"

"Change the name to Titanic and it'll fit," Madison said with a cough.

Razor snorted. "Maddie, come on. Even I know that the Titanic was a boat." She leaned back and ignored him. "Sorry."

She looked at him curiously. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw you bail when Powell yelled about presents. Since you were getting all hyped up to see the look on his face when he opened the thing you and Cody got for him, I figured something was wrong."

"So what did he think?"

"You believe he really liked them? Man, I never would've guessed he'd go for a bunch of Paul Newman flicks."

Madison stared at him. "Hello! What do you think he named Sundance for, the film festival?"

"So what're you doing out here anyway?" Razor changed the subject. "You're bitchy as ever, and you always used to go out here when you were pissed."

"Are you trying to be concerned?"

He leaned back against the rock, scratching in the dirt with a toe claw. "Kinda. I mean, you are the one who kicked everybody's tail at poker."

She finally turned and really looked at him. He did look sincere for once. "All right, all right. It's just with all the fighting, all the whining and that news report--I don't know. I just have to get out, go somewhere new for a change rather than hang out in Denver and make sure nobody gets a good glimpse of us."

Razor blinked. "Why? It's not that boring out here."

"No, but are we really doing anything out here?" Madison sighed and caped her wings. "I mean, how do we know the panic won't going to spread out here? To Denver?"

"Not now it won't," Colleen said, stepping into the light. "Something like that would probably hit the Bible Belt before it hit us. And we're so out in the middle of nowhere that no one's really going to pick up on us easily."

Hearing her speak out of the shadows, Razor literally jumped a foot. "Damn, girl!" he snapped, and she grinned. "Don't do that!"

"Colleen, you've got to teach me that sometime." Madison continued her train of thought. "But what if we could stop them at the source? Then they'd never have a chance to spread out here."

"Pinky," Colleen said, sitting down beside Madison, "are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Sure, Brain, but burlap chafes me so," Razor shot back in a perfect imitation of Pinky. Madison rolled her eyes.

"Nope, I'm thinking of going to Manhattan," she said, and the other two stopped laughing and stared at her.

"Somebody mind pulling me back to reality?" Razor asked finally. "'Cause, you know my bad hearing. I almost thought you said you wanted to go to Manhattan."

"That's because I did."

Razor stared at her, his spikes shooting up immediately. "Are you nuts? What are you gonna do there, see the Statue of Liberty? Take on all these garg-hating dipshits?"

She smiled. "There's a thought."

"Forget it. Girl, you may be right, I may be a crazy son-of-a-bitch, but you're suicidal. Ten minutes in that city and you'd be toast."

Madison glanced up at him, cocking her head thoughtfully. "Didn't Powell say the same thing about Denver?"

"This ain't Denver! This is New York City!"

"Well, the annual murder rate there apparently dropped by almost half this year," Colleen said. "It's true!"

"Thanks, Coll, I feel so much better now." He turned back to Madison. "I still say you're crazy. This is suicide."

"No, I was the suicidal one, remember? Well, I tried, anyway."

"Say what?" In the ten years since Colleen had been found and adopted into the clan, this was the first time either of them had heard her admit to trying suicide instead of only hearing it from others.

Colleen shrugged. "I tried the wrist-slitting thing a long time ago, but the sun came up. Said the hell with it after that."

"Ummmm...." Razor scratched his head. "I mean, if you wanted to do yourself in, why not just jump off a cliff right before sunrise?" Madison reached over and smacked him in the back of the head. "Ow! What?"

"And smash into little pieces?" Colleen wrinkled her nose. "Ew. There's no romance in that."

Razor and Madison just stared at her.

Colleen looked utterly confused. "What? It's not even moderately tragic." Razor leaned over, peering at her skull, poking at her hair. "What are you doing? I'm supposed to be the resident head case around here, not you."

"Just checking to see where that big-ass bump from where you got dropped on the head is."

"Get off!" She shoved him backwards and continued. "You'd have to have an altruistic or emotional reason, like Romeo and Juliet."

"Great." Razor threw up his hands. "You're suicidal, and you're gonna go cross-country to get yourself killed."

"I am not suicidal," Colleen retorted.

"But you just said--"

"I said I tried before." Her gaze shifted to the ground, as she plucked at a strand of dry grass. "I don't really have a reason now."

At that, Madison hugged her friend. "Aww, isn't that sweet," Razor said sarcastically. "Can we get back to the problem here?" He groaned and crashed down beside them in a tangle of wings and tail. "I'm surrounded by friggin' lunatics."

Madison had to smile. "Well, then you fit right in."

He sighed and ran a hand through his dreadlocked hair. "Okay, look. Just do me a favor. Talk to somebody about this. Cody, Sherry, Jim, maybe even Powell. I don't want you to go running off on your own on something this crazy."

"You're telling me I'm doing something crazy?"

"Hey. Going dive-bombing too close to a camp is one thing. Taking off for New York City is a whole bunch of other little things in a timebomb."

The two females just stared at him. Razor blinked and shifted position, becoming increasingly uncomfortable. "What?"

"My God," Colleen said. "It's a miracle!" She stood and put a hand over her heart, pretending to swoon melodramatically. "He's making sense. Razor's actually making sense!"

Madison started laughing, and Razor snorted. "Yeah, I can feel the love here tonight. And who're you to talk, Miss I'm-Suicidal-But-I'm-Not-Because-It's-Not-Tragic-Enough?"

Colleen scowled. "I can't believe I told you that. Jerk."

"Okay, look, I'm sorry," Razor said hastily. "But I'm not the only one whose head is wired weird." Madison was still chuckling. "Shut up!"

"No one's as weird as you are, Razor," Madison said, stifling her giggles.

"Hey, I'm unique," Razor said defensively.

The scowl on Colleen's face changed to a smirk. "I can think of a better word for it."

He puffed out his chest. "Wanna make something of it?"

"Sure," Colleen said. "Race you!" With that, she hopped to her feet and unfurled her wings, nearly smacking Razor in the face, and leapt off the cliff into the night.

"Oh, damn, no fair!" Razor yelled, jumping up as well.

"You'll never catch her," Madison said. Alan had clocked Colleen at seventy-five miles an hour once.

He sighed. "Women." With that, he unfurled his wings with a snap and launched into the air with a high-pitched whoop.

"Why do I always get the weird ones for friends?" Madison murmured, watching their retreating shapes for a moment. She finally shrugged it off, stood, and took off after them into the night.

"I don't get it," Dave interrupted as Madison took a sip of water.

"What else is new?" Nick joked, ducking the swipe his friend took at him.

"Well, you wanted the whole story," Madison said with a sigh. "And that's where I kind of got the idea to take off."

Dave shook his head. "Naw, I don't get the names." Madison blinked, confused.

"I think I know what he means," Carla said, setting a fresh cup of coffee on the table and sitting down. "Sheridan, Cody, Woodrow, Powell, Sundance--those are all places around that area. How did you end up with Madison?"

The aqua gargoyle rolled her eyes. "Someone got it into their heads that we might as well start giving each other names for some reason. And either Powell'd had one beer too many or his eyesight was failing."

"Which means..." Ray trailed off.

"Most of the Laramie folks hole up in a hunting lodge that's been abandoned for years. The TV managed to pick up 'Splash' that night," Madison said after a moment. "He somehow got it into his head that I looked like Daryl Hannah, and Razor started calling me Madison as a joke. The name stuck."

Nick and Dave started snickering, failing to hide their laughter and then just laughing out loud. "It's not that funny," Madison retorted.

"Knock it off," Ray said. "It was just a fish story." Their laughter turned to groans, and he smiled with satisfaction.

Madison glared at the two boys. "Do you want me to tell the rest or what?" Nick and Dave sat upright and at attention.

Ray stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. "I'd certainly like to hear the rest of it."

"I know I'm not going to be left hanging there," Carla added.

With a shrug, Madison lapsed back into her memories. "Nothing really happened for a few more months. But then, of course, another excuse to party came up."

November 15, 1996
Cripple Creek, Colorado

"Neee-colaaa!" Logan crowed, mimicking the commercial. "Nice. Ice--"

"Will you knock it off?" Nicki snapped as she set her knapsack down on one of the tables, moving to make sure all the curtains were closed. "I can't believe I agreed to this."

Cody sighed, moving to help Nicki get around in the darkened bar and casino. The first floor of the Gold Rush housed a dining area and bar in the far right corner, opening into the glittering clusters of slot machines, computer poker, and a few dealer tables sitting on the plush carpets of the front half by the windows that Nicki was trying to cover up. By Las Vegas standards, it was rather tiny; by Cripple Creek standards, the casino was average-sized, one of over thirty casinos crammed into the tourist town nestled in the mountains.

"Nic, I'm sorry," the golden gargoyle said as she loosened the curtain and helped pull it across the glass, "but you said that the last six times you let us do this."

"I did, didn't I?" Nicki mused, then shrugged it off. "Oh well. It's not like this is hurting business. It's the off season anyway down here." Nicki had landed a job as the marketing director for the Gold Rush, which meant that aside from a better paycheck, she had unlimited access to the hotel and casino.

Woody pulled out a cigarette, then thought better of it as Cody cleared her throat, pointing at the "No Smoking" sign right behind him. "Hell, I can't believe we don't have three feet of snow yet. It's weird."

Nicki rapped on the rim of the roulette table with her knuckles. "Knock on wood. We're bound to get a good dumping pretty soon." Finishing the last curtain, she weaved her way around the machines, heading for the "Employees Only" door in the back. "Cody, you have all the curtains shut?"

"Sure looks like it."

Nicki wasn't taking any chances. "Razor?" There was no response as Razor sat staring into space. "RAZOR!" The olive male jumped, suddenly at attention, his crest of spikes flaring like a porcupine's quills. Nicki sighed. "Are the curtains shut by the sign-in desk?"

He got up and leaned down the hall to check. "Yep!"

"Come on, Nic, hit the lights already!" someone yelled. Shaking her head, Nicki opened the door and went in, flipping a well-known set of switches.

The room abruptly flared to bright, shining life. Lights snapped on across the room, illuminating the bottles and glasses behind the bar, winking off the gilded edges of the slot machines as the polished wood gleamed. The huddle of machines came awake with a cheerful cacophony of bells and beeps as the colored lights glowed on their sides.

"SURPRISE! Happy birthday!"

Satisfied that the curtains were shut tight, Cody turned around and stopped, shocked as the huddle of gargoyles surrounding the pool table parted to reveal a birthday cake ablaze with candles. But the real surprise was just how many people were there. Aside from Clan Denver, almost everyone she knew well from Laramie was present. Sheridan was standing with Jim as usual, Colleen was holding Sundance back, and Dana was wresting the matches from DJ's claws while Annie pouted. Nicki was already behind the bar, and Alan joined her. Even Powell was there, for crying out loud.

She finally managed a response. "What? No singing?"

"We're just here to embarrass you, not torture you," Sheridan said, nudging Jim, who rolled his eyes.

Colleen's eyes were sparkling with an old joke. "No singing! Stop the music!"

"So let me get this straight," Logan quoted as Cody stepped up to the cake, "you don't want him to sing and I am not to leave the room unless he is with me."

"And he's not to leave the room, even if you come and get him?"

"You shall not have died in vain!"

"I'm not dead; I'm getting better!"

"Well, then you shall not have been mortally wounded in vain!"

"Get on with it!" Powell exclaimed. Everyone stared at him. "I've heard you quote that damned movie so many times I know it by heart. Let her blow out the candles before we set off the fire alarm."

Cody grinned and blew out the candles in a breath. "All right!" Annie cheered. "Now we can eat some!"

"Par-tay!" Razor yelled as Madison grabbed the plates and forks, plucking the candles out methodically as she shooed away the excited hands of the twins.

She handed the first piece to Cody. "First piece. Tradition. All that stuff."

A number of people had shifted to the bar, leaving Madison and Cody a little more elbow room as Cody accepted the piece. "I should have seen it coming," Cody said as Madison handed Dana a piece to give to Annie, who along with DJ was bouncing up and down in excitement. "Nicki agreed after only the second try. You set this up."

"Guilty as charged," Madison said. "Deej, stop bouncing like that. I have to cut the piece before you can eat it." The sheet cake was chocolate, with white icing and decorated with flying gargoyle silhouettes. "You wouldn't believe the story Nicki and Alan had to come up with to get this design made."

"I can bet. But she's in marketing, she can talk her way through anything if she has to." Cody cocked her head curiously at Madison as DJ got his piece and bounced over to sit beside his sister on the steps. "Out of curiosity, how did you get Powell to come? I can't believe he'd show up."

"She didn't have to," Powell remarked as he inspected the cue stick in his hands. Cody jumped in surprise, and Madison wisely picked up the cake and carried it over to the bar, leaving Cody and Powell alone.

Cody arched a brow ridge over a hazel eye. "Uh-huh. I'm so sure."

Powell leaned forward on the cue stick like a cane, looking at her thoughtfully. "I still think that taking the goofball squad out to Denver wasn't that smart. But at least they don't have an idiot in charge of them."

"Was that supposed to be some sort of compliment?"

"You figure it out. Besides, it's been five years, and you've still managed to make it to your fiftieth. With them around, that's impressive."

Cody shrugged. "You could have said that a while ago instead of bitching about how harebrained it was."

"Could have." She looked away, and he sighed. "But ever since your mother died, I haven't had anyone quick enough on the uptake to argue with but you."

She sighed. "I guess that's the best I'm ever going to get from you." Taking a cue stick off the rack, she snatched up the chalk and eyed the nearby pool table with interest. "How about a game of eight ball?"

"You're on, kid."

"Hey!" Logan yelled, but nobody heard him. The web-winged gargoyle muttered a curse and jumped on top of the bar, waving his arms to get the crowd's attention. "HEY!!!"

There wasn't much of a response as the group of humans and gargoyles continued milling around the bar and casino, blithely oblivious to his shouting. Even Woody, who was sitting right beside him at the bar, nursing a beer as he alternately traded insults and flirted with Cody, completely ignored him. Madison was dealing blackjack, under Nicki's criticism.

Logan scowled and folded his arms, scanning the crowd until he caught Colleen's eye. She sighed, hopped behind the bar and grabbed one of the round metal drink trays, pounding on it like a gong. "Excuse me!!"

Several heads turned towards them, and Logan took the opportunity to turn the sound on the small TV set above the bar. The news report didn't thrill anyone.

"Quarrymen?" Sheridan muttered. "Could there be a worse way to rip off the Beatles?"

"I doubt it," Alan said.

Most of the group around the bar was crowded around the TV set, although the rest stayed around the gaming tables and the slot machines. Madison, however, passed the duty of dealer over to Nicki and moved over to where she could get a good look at the set. The newscast showed a group of humans in blue uniforms with hoods and hammers storming a city street.

"In New York, the vigilante group has stirred up a great amount of controversy," the anchorwoman was saying. "Although many people fear the gargoyles sighted in the city, more seem to fear the Quarrymen as a threat to public safety. Yet their numbers are seemingly undiminished. Dave?"

"Turn that crap off," Jim said loudly, coming up to the bar. "What, does this kind of bullshit have to ruin every party we throw?"

Colleen shut the television off as the crowd drifted apart with a bit of discontented murmuring, moving back to their enjoyment of the party. Only Madison remained there, frowning.

November 30, 1996
Denver

"You have got to be kidding me," Cody snapped. "Absolutely not. There's no way I'm letting the only other member of this clan with any sense take that kind of risk."

Madison folded her arms. "What do you expect me to do? Sit around and wait for the Quarrymen to move out here?"

"Of course I don't, Maddie," Cody began.

"No," Madison continued, "we'll just keep on hiding like we always do. Before the New York stuff happened, we could just patrol Denver and most people would pass us off as a hallucination. Now we can't even do that. We're just holed up here every night, and if we do go out, we have to hide in the shadows!"

"Better that than be targeted by a bunch of maniacs."

"But it's not going to last," Madison argued. "Even after we fixed up this old place, I'm getting cabin fever in here. And if it's eating at me, can you imagine how everyone else is feeling? Logan? Woody? Razor, even?"

"Razor's an idiot, Logan whines constantly about patrolling, the hippie squad really doesn't care either way, and Woody--well, he's just Woody." Cody tacked them off on her fingers. "Besides, patrolling's not worth the risk anymore."

"So instead of dying at the hands of fanatics, we're risking death by insanity."

Cody scowled. "I never thought I'd be the one saying this to you, but you're really overreacting."

"Maybe I am," Madison snapped, throwing up her hands. "But look at it this way. What are we supposed to do with ourselves, then? Sit around? Keep up with the fixer-upper?" She gestured around the renovated attic. Nicki and Dana had agreed to share the house just outside of town with the small split-off clan in return for helping with repairs.

"Does this have a point?" Cody asked. From below, there came a dull thudding sound, someone pounding on the ceiling.

"The point is, here we are again hiding out. In a city, not out in the wilderness, but it's the same thing." She folded her arms. "Remember what Powell used to say? 'Gargoyles protect'?"

Cody's eyes burned with crimson anger. "Don't you dare bring him into this!"

Madison sighed and stood there, waiting for her leader's flare of temper to pass. "Yeah, well, you know what? I'm starting to think that maybe he was right!"

"Excuse me!" They turned to see a half-awake Dana standing in the doorway. "Anyone remember the 'No fighting after 1 am' rule? Mom was going to come up and scream, but Alan's holding her down."

"No problem," Madison said, glaring at Cody. "I was done here anyway." With those words, she turned and stalked off towards the balcony off of the living room, taking off into the night. Dana sighed, shook her head, and went back downstairs, shutting the door behind her.

Cody stood there for a few moments, alone. Then, with a roar, she punched a fist into the wall, leaving a dent in the plaster. As the rage cleared from her eyes, she eyed the dent sorrowfully. "Damn it."

December 14

Colleen yawned and stretched, working the kinks out of her muscles with catlike movements. A nap really didn't seem to be the solution for her headache. At least it was quiet; Woody had coaxed Cody out for the night, and everyone else had followed their lead. But it was really far too cold for her liking.

She was staying in Denver for the weekend, just for the heck of it, to get on Razor's nerves and see the sights. Powell hadn't complained, and Colleen had the feeling that he felt the same way that she did; they were still one clan, despite distance and name. Denver really wasn't all that far away. But as much as she enjoyed it, the house was still too cold.

She stood up and looked around the darkened house. The intersecting shadows gave it a peculiar, eerie quality that she couldn't help but smile at. A two-story construction of brick and stone, the little house rested on a steep slope just outside the city. When Nicki had unexpectedly inherited the patch of land with the old house on the property, she hadn't had the time to devote to the major fixer-upper. So to keep them out of her apartment, she had agreed to let Clan Denver stay there during the cold season--under the condition that they kept the house up.

Tapping a toe claw against the floor, Colleen turned and wandered down the hall towards the stairs, pausing when she saw that the window at the end of the corridor was wide open. That solved the problem of the cold, but a chill still gripped her as she wondered just who had opened it.

She ran back to the bedroom to grab a coat before clambering out the window and climbing up to the roof. Sure enough, there was a figure hunched on the edge of the roof, preparing to take off. "Hey! Who's there?"

Madison whirled, nearly losing her balance. "Colleen? What are you doing out here?" She blinked through the light haze of snowflakes. "It's freezing!"

"I was going to ask you the same thing." Colleen's gaze drifted to the purple knapsack in Madison's grip, and then back to the face of her friend. "You aren't doing what I think you're doing, are you?" Madison nodded. "No! You're crazy! You'll freeze!"

"I'll be fine!" Madison assured her, putting her hands on Colleen's shoulders.

"But you can't just leave!"

"I can't talk any sense into Cody, can I?"

"You can't leave," Colleen said flatly. "You're not leaving me again."

"Well, you want to come?" Madison was too flustered to be tactful. "Coll, I've got to do this. It's been driving me nuts. I'm not doing anything useful or helpful here except maybe keeping Woody and Razor out of trouble and Cody from strangling them."

"Well, they're still alive, aren't they?"

"That's not the point. If I wasn't here, someone else would talk Cody down from her temper." Madison frowned. "Besides, just think what this means! There's another clan out there, that we're sure of. Someone other than the thirty of us nested out in the Rockies."

"I know that. And trust me, we're better off this way."

Madison paused as the meaning of her friend's words sank in. "What do you mean, you know? What did I miss?"

Colleen's eyes flashed red. "I do know there are others! Where do you think I came from before you and Sherry dragged me out of the drink?" She paused for breath as Madison stared at her numbly. "Look, that's not the point. You're one of the best friends I've ever had, and now you're bailing!"

"Can you blame me?" Madison cried. "I mean, come on. You know as well as I do that we really don't do anything important here. We don't serve a purpose. Haven't you ever just wanted to get out, just take on the world?" She paused. "Okay, that sounds like I ripped it off a cheesy inspirational card."

"No, I don't, it's just that--" Colleen paused. "I'm really going to miss you if you go. You're really the only one who pushes to keep everybody together."

Madison sighed and hugged her friend. "I'm going to miss you, too. But that's just it--I'm the only one who does." She pulled away, looking at Colleen intently. "You want to come along? Seriously?" Colleen sighed and shook her head as Madison reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out an envelope. "Do me a favor, will you? Give Cody this when she comes back and has a fit. It explains a lot."

Colleen took the envelope and stuffed it in her pocket. "On one condition."

"What's that?"

"I don't care where you are on Christmas, but I want you to call here and tell me you're okay." Colleen glanced over her shoulder. "I'll give you a head start."

Madison hugged her again before straightening up. "Thanks, Colleen." She handed the younger gargoyle a slip of paper. "Read this when I'm gone, will you?" With that, she turned and took to the air, waving. "Goodbye!"

Colleen watched her go until she was out of sight, then unfolded the slip of paper. As she read it, her eyes widened.

"So that's it?" Dave said after a long pause.

"Pretty much." Madison shrugged. "I had a pretty long and boring trip here. I had to head south towards New Mexico to get away from the cold, and went through Texas and Florida up towards Maryland. It took a lot longer, but at least I didn't freeze to death."

Ray frowned. "So what now?"

"Well, after I fix your shed--" here Carla and Ray started to protest, and she waved them silent. "Oh, no. I've had enough experience with fixing things up by now. And I'll guilt-trip myself to death otherwise." She frowned. "I guess I'll have to head on to New York. I'm too close to just quit now." A thought occurred to Nick. "Isn't Drew in New York, Dad?"

Madison blinked. "Who?"

Ray sighed. "My older son. But that one's just as long a story."

She nodded, deciding not to broach a touchy subject as her gaze flitted to the wall clock. "Oh! It's almost eleven!" Madison jumped up, then paused. "Mind if I make a phone call? I kind of borrowed Nicki's phone card, so it won't cost you."

Nick was starting to nod off, as was Dave. Glancing over at his son, Ray nodded. "Go right ahead. I think I'd better get these two to bed." He stood up and took Nick by the shoulders, gently guiding his son to his feet, pulling Dave up with a hand.

As he guided the two of them towards the steps, Nick slurred, "Dad, I'm not tired..."

Carla chuckled as she got up and resumed her work with the dishes, heedless of how late it was. The petite, wiry woman seemed to have more energy than Nick and Dave put together. "Some things never change, do they?"

"No kidding," Madison answered absently as the phone on the other end of the line began to ring.

Denver, Colorado

"Don't all of you volunteer to get it!" Colleen shouted as the phone rang for the third time. She twisted through the crowd gathered in Nicki's living room, stepped over the game of Monopoly that Logan was playing with the twins (and from the looks of it, getting fleeced), and vaulted over the couch, dashing to the kitchen to snatch up the receiver. "Nicki's House of Insanity. Santa's Little Helper speaking."

"Sounds like a lot of people there need the help!" a familiar voice answered. "I hope you've been keeping Razor away from the egg nog!"

The pitch of Colleen's voice rose to a happy squeal, so much that several heads turned in time to hear her shriek, "Maddie!!"

"I can't believe everybody came here," Nicki moaned as she flopped bonelessly into the plush armchair. "Hell, I can't believe everybody fit in here!"

"Miracles happen every day," Sheridan answered. "Check that out." She pointed over to the stairwell as Cody and Powell came downstairs. Cody had been persuaded to give Powell a tour of the loft and attic, under the condition that he held off the snide remarks until the end.

Razor leaned back in his chair as he idly passed the deck of cards from hand to hand. "No kidding. Maddie didn't call me an idiot once."

Stubbing out his cigarette, Woody glanced towards the kitchen. "So who's got the phone now?"

"Colleen's got it again."

"Yeah, and speaking of which," Nicki said, "I've got to have a talk with her about that phone card." She paused, staring at her glass of egg nog. "When I'm sober, that is."

Dana sighed. "Mom, you are sober. I switched the real stuff with non-alcoholic this afternoon." She shrugged as her mother stared at her, and immediately pointed at Alan. "Hey, it was his idea!"

Nicki turned to stare at Alan, who rolled his eyes heavenward. "I don't know what she's talking about."

Cody and Powell were sitting down at the table across from Razor, and Logan wandered over to join the impending poker game as Colleen finally emerged from the kitchen. "So what'd she say?" Jim asked, moving to sit down beside Powell.

"She sounds good," Colleen said as Sheridan claimed the seat beside Jim. "She also said to tell you that if anyone starts arguing over stupid shit like we always do, she'll personally come back and drive us all crazy."

"That's normal," Cody said. "I guess I should have stopped her."

Powell let out a derisive snort. "She'd have taken off anyway. What were you gonna do, put her under house arrest? I couldn't have kept her from leaving," he added, "so don't blame yourself, kid."

"She would've driven us all nuts about it anyway," Logan put in. "Can't believe how much she ranted about it. Guess it was just what she really wanted to do."

"No shit," Woody said after a long silence. "She went on about it more than you whine about Voyager." There was a bit of laughter at that statement. "So what are we playing, anyway?"

Sheridan glanced over at Razor. "Poker. Dealer picks, if I'm not mistaken." All eyes fell on Razor, who was holding the deck.

"Oh, no," Cody moaned.

To their surprise, Razor shook his head. "Naah, I don't feel like dealing. That's usually Maddie's job."

"Well, Maddie's not here," Dana pointed out from the living room. "And I'm doing cleanup, so I'm out."

Razor glanced over at Colleen and proffered the deck. "Why don't you do it?"

"What? Me?"

There was a murmur of agreement among the others. "Makes sense to me," Powell added as he sipped his beer. "Go ahead."

Colleen stood there for a moment, a curious expression on her face as she took the cards and sat down, shuffling and cutting the deck. A gleam of mischief shone in her eyes as an old quote popped into her head. It was fitting, anyway.

"Well," she said as she dealt the cards around the table, "five-card stud, nothing wild - and the sky's the limit."