Gargoyles Fan Fiction ❯ Of The Night ❯ Dancing With A Gargoyle ( Chapter 11 )

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Of The Night

Eleven

Lydia spent most of her time by that table, occasionally snacking on crackers or sipping glasses of punch. A few strangers chatted with her, seemingly enchanted by her adorable visage. She allowed herself a moment of pride; she’d never seen herself as outwardly attractive before. Cute, yes -- but then, what else could a woman her size be seen as? She’d never be tall and beautiful like Elisa, or fit and graceful and full of confidence like Fox. Well, she’d take what she could get.

She was honestly surprised, though, when she was invited by a complete stranger to dance. She agreed, since she’d been wanting to, and had confidence in her weeks of training -- practicing, her mind corrected. You don’t ‘train’ to dance. You practice.

She rolled her eyes mentally at her unconscious phrasing, and then at her mental debates. That couldn’t be a good sign.

Her dancing partner, a man dressed as Count Dracula, wasn’t nearly as graceful a dancer as she was. He almost tripped her, then hurried to apologize. Before she could say a word, he rushed away, embarrassed. She stood for a long moment on the dance floor, staring after her lost dancing partner, before an amused voice broke though.

“Left you alone, did he? I could drop him off the building, if you’re offended.”

He’d been watching her since he first saw her, keeping an eye on her since Lex was being unkind with the she’s gonna get kidnapped jokes. It rose the protectiveness in him, and so he’d been keeping tabs on her. Many humans wanted the chance to talk to a gargoyle, but luckily Brooklyn was intimidating in his alien appearance, second only to Goliath’s massive size. Not many humans were willing to start a conversation with him, which was just fine at a time like this.

After all, he had something he had to look after.

She turned a smile on Brooklyn -- a smile, not a smirk, because angels didn’t smirk. “Nah, but thanks for offering. Is the offer good for later, though?”

He shrugged. “As long as the crime is befitting the punishment.”

She didn’t like talks of crimes and punishments. It reminded her that while she’d done no actual crime, she still had a court date to attend.

“On another subject completely,” he went on while she hesitated, “want to finish the dance with a gargoyle?”

“Why, is Lex around?” she joked, knowing it was his sore spot.

He growled. Of course she would poke at his weak point like that. Though it was unfound, jealousy soared up, and he had to clench his fist to keep a metaphorical grip on self-control. “No. You’ll just have to settle for the red one.” He offered his hands.

She walked into the embrace, letting him whirl her around. The most amusing part wasn’t that a six-foot-but-hunched red gargoyle with a beaklike face was dancing with possibly the cutest human girl at the party, but the way the other dancers were staring. Many of them stumbled, in shock, while a few stopped dead where they were.

“Talk about stopping a procession dead in its tracks,” she muttered.

Brooklyn chuckled. “Turns out a single gargoyle couldn’t clear a room -- but a gargoyle dancing with a human could.” He was certainly surprised himself -- that she was letting him hold her. Granted, it was only proper form for the dance, but he’d had the feeling she would reject him. After all, the last time they’d talked, she’d been very angry with him. At least her spirits had raised.

She could see how this amused him. “It’s even more amazing that the gargoyle hasn’t tripped the human yet with the way you walk, those knees sticking out.”

He caught her sly look and then rose to his full height. “It’s just a little uncomfortable this way,” he explained when she gave him a now why don’t you stand up straight all the time? look. After a few moments, he sank back down to usual pose.

She nodded, understanding. “Makes sense.”

“Wait -- you understand?” He was confused. Most humans didn’t get it, and gargoyles rarely analyzed it. It was just common nature for them.

“Yep. Oh, I have a fascination with biology, muscle structure and the like,” she told him. “It makes sense for you to walk the way you do; your body structure kinda demands it.”

He picked up on the excitement she tried to hide in her tone. “You’ve thought about this pretty hard, haven’t you?” he asked, suspicious.

As the song ended, he was hyperaware of his hand on her waist and how she allowed it. Her faint smile remained, and for a moment, they didn’t move. Then they went to the refreshment table again. She talked as they went.

“Well, yeah. I’ve dissected human cadavers before on the quest of knowledge. You wouldn’t believe how amazing it is, seeing the innards of a person and knowing you look just the same on the inside. And then I’ve --”

He interrupted her. “That doesn’t sound like normal curriculum for high school.”

“It’s not. I did it for independent study, then wrote a paper about the experience, and what I’d learned. I got a whole credit for the work total.” She smiled at the memory. “But that’s not where I was going. As I said, I’ve also dissected animals, but that was part of the curriculum. Starfish, then sharks, frogs, a cat, a piglet, an owl, a bat, and a few others I did in my backyard without the school’s knowledge.” She chuckled. “I bet I could’ve gotten another credit if they’d have approved it all.”

He skewered her with a look. “You’ve never sounded more strange than you do now.”

She giggled reflexively, embarrassed. “Yeah, I guess I sound a little nuts. I just get a little overboard when I think about biology and such.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

“Are you dissecting me in your head?” he half-teased. The idea scared him a little.

She blushed furiously. “Only a little,” she admitted. “And it’s not so much dissecting as it is analyzing. I told you, muscle structure fascinates me. And I’ve been on your back before so I know how those muscles work.”

He blinked, unsure what to say. The conversation bothered him in an odd way. “And how do they work?” he wondered, almost hitting himself for asking the question.

Her eyes brightened, and then she shook her head. “Oh, I could go in-depth about it. But I don’t wanna talk about it in a room full of others and I’m sure you don’t want that, either.” She winked. “Ask me again when we’re alone and I’ll fill you in.”

Now he was surprised. He hadn’t really thought she’d forgiven him for being overprotective yet, and now she was as good as saying she had.

“So if we’re going to be alone later,” he said slowly, “that means you’ve forgiven me?”

Her face hardened. “I suppose I’ll have to eventually. It’s not like I don’t understand -- it’s just a little infuriating.”

“Why?”

“Because, suddenly, you became a traitor to the cause.” Though her voice was slightly teasing, her face showed no amusement.

“What cause?” he wondered aloud, confused.

She glared. “My freedom, silly man. I thought you were on my side, until then.”

He frowned, even as his insides were reeking at the fact she’d called him a silly man. It was quite a distinction to make, and the implications weren’t lost on him.

“I have to pick sides now?” he finally replied.

“Ya know what, go somewhere else.” She scoffed. “You’re pissing me off.”

Now he glowered. “How? I asked a question!”

“Don’t try to understand the female psyche,” she advised.

“Am I going to be forgiven eventually?”

“We’ll see. Now stop pressing your luck. I want to be alone.”

With a glare at her hard face, he walked past her, heading for where Lex was talking animatedly with two men and a woman. He joined the group with a welcome from Lex, who went right back to his story.

“And I figured, a simulator worked in telling me what to do. I already had the knowledge, now I just needed practice. And flying helicopters isn’t so hard, once you know what everything does. . .”

The humans were stunned, listening to him. Brooklyn rolled his eyes. Of course Lex would bring up that story, the one humans would have the most difficulty believing: a gargoyle flying a helicopter. It went against what they knew of gargoyle kind for them to use any means of travel other than their wings.

He looked back at the table, saw Lydia glaring at the crackers and cheese she was snacking on. After a few moments of unheard conversation, a man approached her, tentative. He touched her arm and a wave of possessiveness coursed through Brooklyn, though he held himself where he was. It wasn’t easy -- his mind was calculating how long it would take to dash over there, grab the man, and throw him off the balcony on the other side of the room.

“Do you fly helicopters too?”

He glanced up sharply, realizing that he’d been staring at Lydia. He almost missed the question, then shook his head. “No, that’s just Lex the genius, here,” he said, gesturing the smaller gargoyle.

Lex tossed him a smirk. “As if you’re not a genius in your own rights.”

Brooklyn shrugged, allowing it.

“What does that mean?” the woman asked, eying him in confusion.

“I’m a strategist,” he explained.

“And a damn good one,” Lex approved.

Brooklyn didn’t like talking about his mind’s inner workings, so it was a reprieve when Elisa and Goliath reached them.

“Is this where the party is?” she teased.

The conversation continued with much less comfortable humans, now that Goliath had joined in. But they relaxed after a short while, as Goliath displayed his intelligence and refinement, two things unexpected in general for a gargoyle to have.

Though Brooklyn kept a sharp eye on Lydia and her conversation with the boy, he could only guess at the subject. He analyzed what he could see: Lydia’s expression, as it went from mild surprise, to confusion, to suspicion, to anger. They seemed to be arguing for a short time, during which time he could hardly stand to hold himself still. He was waiting (futilely, in all likelihood) for her to ask for help. He was pretty sure she could take care of herself, and she was also angry with him right then.

It was probably best not to poke a hornet’s nest when it was already riled up.

Her expression changed to shock, utter disbelief, and then fury. She spoke quickly to the man.

Brooklyn shifted his attention to other human, trying to understand what was going on from a distance -- and while migrating humans kept shuffling into his line of sight. The man was dressed as Dracula , probably the same one she’d danced with earlier. He seemed to be trying to reason with her, gesturing with his hands in apology.

Hadn’t he almost thrown her to the floor? Is that why he was apologizing?

Brooklyn narrowed his eyes in confusion and anxiety. What were they saying to make Lydia’s face take on such rage?

And then Elisa stole a glance at Lydia and said, “Hey, what’s Lydia up to?”

It was like an invitation, and he obeyed it, heading for the duo.