Entry tags:

fic: gargoyles

Yuletide fic: Always Time for a Good Conversation (Gargoyles, Goliath/Elisa, PG)
Title: Always time for a good conversation
Author: dotfic
Rating: PG, het, Goliath/Elisa
W/C: 2,800
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Disney, although Greg Weisman built the sandbox and filled it with sand.

a/n: Written for panther3751 for Yuletide 2008, originally posted here. Title from Creedence Clearwater Revival. For those keeping track, it's set 5-6 months after Hunter's Moon and the events of the Gargoyles comics issues #1-8. Big thank you to ljmouse and mtgat for betaing, and to amilyn for the brainstorming session.

Summary: Urban legends are real. Everyone has an opinion, and Goliath and Elisa have a disagreement. But they have always listened to each other.



"Four extra patrol shifts says Elisa talks him out of it." Brooklyn leaned his ear against the wooden door.

Lexington ducked under his arm, crowding closer so he could hear better what was going on out on the castle's tower. "You're that sure?"

"He listens to her, Lex. He's always listened to her."

"Yeah." Lexington's forehead creased with a frown. "But he seems like he wants to do this."

"Doesn't mean it's a good idea."

"So you agree with her, Brooklyn?"

"Guess so." Brooklyn shifted position with a rustle of wings. "Wait, the wind's too loud, I can't hear."

His younger brother stayed quiet for a moment.

"Well, I don't. I think he should do it."

"Then the bet's on?" Brooklyn grinned.

"It's on."

"Kiss your free nights good-bye."

Lexington snorted. "You wish."

---

Elisa hoped it would never go away, that flutter in her stomach each night when the skies above the city started to turn red with sunset. Cagney purred and twined around her ankles as she headed for the kitchen. Her morning, the start of New York's night, with the rooftops darkening into outlines beyond her apartment's window wall, a water tower here, a chimney pipe there.

The new sense of unease was something she could do without. At least she'd stopped dreaming of explosions and the thunderous sound of falling water.

Elisa couldn't remember exactly when the feelings started. Maybe a few weeks back. It was months since the chaos in the city had settled, although the buzz of gossip about it all continued. People looked up more often now. Every day the papers had at least something—a sidebar if not a headline, a mention in the B section or an announcement of another community meeting. Scientists, zoologists, sociologists, urban experts, folklorists, law-enforcement, politicians, journalists, they all had an opinion.

"Yeah, okay, kitty. Priorities are priorities." She almost tripped over Cagney on the way to the cabinet to take out a can of Fancy Feast.

Kneeling, she stroked Cagney between the ears while the cat ate. The routine was as soothing as the feel of the soft fur.

She realized she was clenching her jaw when it started to ache. Elisa got to her feet, rolled her shoulders and took a deep breath. She unlocked the storage box where she kept her gun and slid the weapon into her shoulder holster.

"Goliath, I think this is a really bad idea," she said softly, catching her reflection in the oven door—her face looked thin.

Cagney paused eating, tail curling into a gray question mark.

"Goliath, we have to talk," Elisa tried again. "I really think this isn't the best idea, and…"

She tugged her jacket on and headed for the door. "Look, we've known each other for a long time now. I need you to listen. This doesn't seem like a very good idea—oh, hell."

Elisa undid the deadbolt, switched off the light, and stepped out into the hall. Locking the door securely behind her, checking to make sure she had her badge, Elisa thought she'd come up with the right words by the time she reached the Eyrie Building. Probably.

---

"I hear Detective Maza is less than pleased about it." Owen hit the mute button on the large television on the wall of his employer's office.

"No matter, Owen." David Xanatos leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. "I'm sure Goliath can explain to her why he wants to do this."

"The ratings should certainly be through the roof," Owen said, standing primly with his back straight, as if he didn't find any of this secretly amusing.

"Excellent. What a PR opportunity," Xanatos said.

Owen's eyebrows quirked upward. "You realize, sir, this could go badly."

"If it does, I have a plan."

"Don't you always?"

---

Her shift started in two hours. Elisa tugged up the collar of her jacket against the January cold, then hurried up the steps. The warmth of the lobby folded around her as she flashed her ID at the security guy even though they'd seen each other a few hundred times.

He nodded. "Evening, Detective Maza."

"Hey, Harvey."

The ride up in the express elevator always made her ears pop, but she'd gotten used to it. The doors pinged open, and she stepped out into a stone corridor. The layout of the castle was as familiar to her by now as her small apartment, or the house where she'd spent her childhood.

Yesterday, Goliath had told her what he'd decided to do, right before he'd turned to stone with the dawn. He had an irritating habit of dropping a difficult subject on her when he knew he could avoid the discussion because of his biology. Well, to be honest, they both had done that a few times. (Second most fun she'd had doing that to him was the first time she'd kissed him. The most fun ever she'd had doing that to him was one sunrise three months ago when she'd turned to him, put her arms around his neck, and suggested that he should spend all night at her place tomorrow. The expression on his face showed he'd gotten her meaning.)

Around her, the castle felt awake, alive in ways it never did during daylight when it was just the Xanatos family and the gargoyles were caught in their stone sleep. She hurried up the stone stairs, hearing the mutter of a television above her. Light seeped from under a wooden door and she heard a muffled burst of laughter.

"Hi, guys," Elisa said, walking past Brooklyn and Lexington.

The two gargoyles jumped guiltily. "Oh, hi, Elisa," said Brooklyn. He looked more all arms and legs than usual. His gangly form stepped quickly out of her way.

"You seen Goliath?" she said.

"Waiting for you as usual on the tower," said Lexington. There seemed to be a question held back in the small gargoyle's voice, but then he tugged at his brother's arm, and the two of them moved off. "See you later, Elisa."

Great. No doubt the whole castle had been discussing what Goliath wanted to do. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets, and headed for the tower stairway.

---

"Why would anyone be wantin' to be on that, laddie?" Settled in his armchair, Hudson hit pause on the VCR. The image of three men and two women in nice business attire froze with their mouths open in mid-argument.

"Because a lot of people will see it." Broadway stood next to Hudson's chair with his arms folded. "And it's a really respected show—they get a lot of important people as guests."

"Respected?" Hudson let out a gutteral sound of skepticism. "Ach. With all of them shouting at each other? I can hardly understand what they're sayin'."

"It's show-biz, Hudson." Broadway nodded.

"Well, I think it's great." Angela looked up from where she knelt, her wings caped over her shoulders as she scratched the gargoyle beast Bronx behind his ears. "People need to hear our side more often."

"Aye, lass, but will they listen?"

"Aw, I'm sure they will." Broadway gave Angela a sympathetic look as Hudson hit "play" on the VCR and the debate on the TV screen continued.

"I don't know." Angela rose gracefully to her feet. "They maybe won't. But at least father will get to try."

---

When Elisa pushed open the thick wooden door, the wind gusted at her. She lowered her head against the resistance, her hair blowing across her face. The cold made her eyes water, clouding her vision for a moment. Everything became a blur of night sky and distant lights and stones. When it cleared, she saw Goliath waiting for her, wings cloaked.

He turned, his mouth curving into a smile, his expression softening. The knot in her stomach warmed.

But she fought against the impulse to run to him. Every carefully planned word went out of her mind as she folded her arms and said, much more forcefully than she'd meant to, "Goliath, I don't think you should go on this TV show."

"The McKinnon Group."

"Yes, them." She moved to stand beside Goliath, looking out at the lights of midtown Manhattan below them, the strings of lights marking the bridges at the edges of the island.

He let out a slow breath. "The Xanatoses think this is will be good publicity."

"I don't care what the Xanatoses think," Elisa said, the old stirrings of distrust and resentment tugging at her, even though she knew David had changed, even knowing what he'd done for Goliath and his family.

"Fox in particular seems confident," Goliath went on, his words slow and measured, as if he'd heard the touch of bitterness. "She says I have excellent…stage…presence."

"It just doesn't seem like a very good idea." Elisa stepped forward, the words tumbling out of her before she meant them to. "What with all the news coverage, we don't want to stir things up again. And the Quarrymen—"

"This will give me a chance to have our side heard, to counteract the propaganda of the Quarrymen and groups like them." He turned and looked down at her, put his hands warm and comforting on her shoulders. "I feel I must do this."

"Have you seen the show?" She tilted her head back to look at his face. "Have you watched them shred seasoned politicians, public figures used to years in the spotlight?"

"Yes, I have." Goliath's tone was hard to read. His face gave nothing away. "They did seem a touch…argumentative. But intelligent, and the show introduces new ideas."

"Well, I think you shouldn't do it." She unfolded her arms, pulled away from him, and walked along the parapet, listening to the wind humming across the stones. His steps thumped behind her as he followed. "We have enough trouble."

"We'll never not have trouble. That doesn't mean not doing what we can to make it better."

"Usually, I'd agree with you." Elisa turned back towards him. She raised her hand, resting her palm against his cheek. He leaned down into her touch, and she felt a rush of protectiveness. "But for once no one is trying to shoot at us, blow us up, or abduct us. Maybe keeping a low profile is the best thing."

"Perhaps." His hand closed over hers.

"Maybe later would be better."

"Or maybe the time to make things better is now."

She tugged her hand free. "I know how you feel, I do. But you—"

"I what?" he said, a sharpness creeping into his voice.

"You want to go rushing in, headlong. You like confrontations. Things are different now. This is different." She paused, fumbled for the words, felt them slipping away from her like bits of paper caught in the wind.

When she looked at Goliath again, he had his palms against the top of the parapets, the muscles in his arms taut. "Yes, the world is different than what I once knew, is that what you're trying to say?"

"No! Yes. No." She saw the line of his mouth tighten. "I know you know that," she went on. "That's not what I meant. I meant it's different than it was sixth months, a year, three years ago. You guys aren't a big secret anymore."

"All the more reason why people need to hear our side."

"Don't you get it? People don't want to hear your side. They believe what they want to believe."

"That's cynical of you."

Elisa swallowed a bitter chuckle. Maybe she was cynical. "Just don't do this, all right?"

"I don't know." He lowered his head, still resting his hands against the stones. The wind tugged at the edges of his cloaked wings. Then he straightened up, and Elisa knew that set to his shoulders well. "I believe I should do this."

"I believe you shouldn't."

They stared at each other.

---

"Wonder what I'll do with all those free evenings when you're taking my patrols," Brooklyn said, a smug smile on his beaked face.

"Shut up, it's not decided yet." Lexington shoved him.

"Uh-oh, she just raised her voice…" Brooklyn made a shushing motion.

"Now he's raising his."

"That's not good." Lexington stepped back from the door.

"Lexington? Brooklyn?" Angela came up the steps towards them. "What are you two doing?"

The other two gargoyles jumped.

"Oh, uh, hi Angela." Brooklyn raised his hand in awkard greeting. "Nothing, we were just."

"Hanging around. Checking out the uh, masonry." Lexington patted the wall. "Good, quality masonry."

"Yeah, they don't make castles the way they used to."

"Because it wouldn't be nice to eavesdrop." Angela frowned.

"No, it wouldn't. Ow, we're not," Brooklyn protested, as Angela grabbed his hair and tugged. "I swear, ow, stop."

"Come on, you two." She pulled Brooklyn away from the tower door. "Leave them alone."

"Fine." Brooklyn shook off Angela's grip and straightened his wings, dignity recovered. He and Lexington headed down the stairs. "Let's go, Lex. We should go find some breakfast anyway."

Angela paused a moment at the door, then turned and followed the others.

---

"Are you questioning my ability to express myself?" Goliath's wings flared, snapping out into the wind.

Through her irritation, Elisa's breath caught; his beauty still astonished her. Elisa no longer felt cold. She turned to track his movements as he walked in a circle around her. "Of course, not, you idiot."

Goliath drew his head back as if startled, wind pulling at his wings and the fall of his dark hair. "So now I am an idiot?"

Elisa wasn't quite sure when she'd lost control of the direction of this conversation. "No, no not at all." Too late now. "No, Goliath." Moving forward, she took his hand between both of hers. "It's not that."

"Then explain it to me." His voice was a low rumble that she felt in her fingers.

"It's just that I'm out there every day—I don't mean my work, Goliath. I mean, in the supermarket. At the bank. On the subway." She pulled away from him, paced with her fingers interlocked behind her neck. "Even at the precinct house. They talk about it, about all of you, about all the crazy stuff that's happened in the city and some of them, what they say isn't so bad. There are people out there ready to listen." She closed her eyes a moment, her neck and shoulders aching. "Others…" Elisa's eyes opened and she focused on the glowing triangles and gleaming arcs of the Chrysler building. Seemed surreal to think she'd once been up there, out on one of the falcons. But then so much of what had happened to her in the last few years was surreal.

"Yes, I know," Goliath said, his voice carrying the weight of too many centuries in it.

"They have ideas, and they say things. It's all I can do not to go up to them and start telling them that I know the truth, that I know they're repeating lies. But I hold my tongue. Because I don't want to do anything to make it worse." She blinked back the sting of tears, hating that she let it get to her.

"What does this have to do with the television show?"

"Those pundits will try and bait you, Goliath. And there you'll be, on live television in front of millions of viewers. They'll go too far, they'll say something to make you angry, and then your eyes will…and your wings will go out to here..." she spread her arms wide, wind pushing at her palms. "It won't be your fault, they won't understand you wouldn't hurt them. But that'll be it, you'll lose your temper, and it'll be all over!"

There was a long quiet that thrummed with the whistle of wind across the stones and the sound of her own breathing, too fast in her ears.

"Elisa. I never lose my temper." His mouth twitched.

She probably looked stupid with her mouth open like that. The bottled-up frustration of the past few weeks broke as she started to laugh. "Never," she whispered, her chest aching with what she couldn't put into words. "Not even once."

Laughing too, Goliath reached out for her, pulled her in close. He folded his wings around her. "I think I can manage it, Elisa."

"I know you can."

"No," he said, tracing a finger down her cheek. "I think maybe you don't, but it's all right. I understand."

She hooked her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to bring her face level with his. "I just want to keep you safe." She kissed him, his mouth soft and eager against hers.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"I can think of a few things," she said, grinning.

"I meant about the television show." He grinned and put her down, but kept his wings cloaked around her, kept her close.

"We'll work it out." She leaned her head against his chest, the flutter in her stomach nothing but excitement now, the dread gone. "We always do."