___________________________________________________________________________
Previously on Gargoyles

"Maybe we can take up Mars’s offer and borrow her beach house."~ Matt Bluestone (Gang Related)

"I have heard so much about you. I mean everyone had heard about you. Sorry, the caffeine has yet to kick in."~Andrea Whitney.

"We are the St. Augustine clan. My name is Coquina. My second and mate, Leon and my human friend, Andrea Whitney are also with me. Like the Chinese clan we also watch over a tourist attraction."~Coquina (Network)
__________________________________________________________________________________
August 3, 2003

Thick, gray clouds boiled low over the city, slowing darkening and threatening to spill the precipitation it was saturated with. The tallest structures of steel and glass appeared to have nearly touched the bottom of the thick mass. With each new rumble of thunder the human denizens raced across the slippery sidewalks, under the shelters of their umbrellas.

Charlemang Bluestone-Destine watched the vast moving clouds roll by the castle form Alex's bedroom window. His palms pressed against the glass as he watched with mixture of awe and a little bit of fear as small flashes of light burst inside the clouds, a few so big that thin, jagged bolts shot out.

"How bad does it look?" Alex asked He was poured over an open suitcase set up on his bed. It was half full of clothes while more clothing was in small piles, strewn across the bed. He was deciding between two pairs of trunks: a back and white stripped one, or a red pair with tiny pictures of Sponge Bob scattered across the material.

"It’s going to rain," Charlie never took his eyes from the clouds. He watched as one seem to float not just past the top of the  castle but appeared to have been slowly separated by the ancient stone structure.  The weregoyle kept his eyes on the dark mist like fingers, not noticing a large cloud, darker by several tones, drift overhead a few feet until it seemed to explode in a flash of lighting. "Mama!" Charlie leaped back from the window and nearly tripped over Alex’s bean bag chair.

The older boy didn’t even look up from his packing until he heard the booming thunder, louder than even one of Goliath’s roars. "That sounded really close."

"Of course it sounded close. It nearly blinded me."

"You got to see the lightening?" His question was answered by Charlie’s nodding. "That is so cool. I have heard if lightening is really close you can hear it sizzle before the thunder."

"I don’t want to hear it sizzle," Charlie stared at the window. More flashes of light danced across the low hanging canopy. "I don’t want to be that close."

"Why? Are you scared?" Alex teased while he held up his trunks again. He decided to pack them both. His parents didn’t tell him he couldn’t take both of them.

"No."

"Then why are you acting so scared?" He pulled the pile of pajamas closer to him. He needed to decide which sleep wear to take with him.

Charlie did not know how to explain. He did not want to admit he was scared, not scared of something Alex wasn’t afraid of. "I’m just worried about my sister and the others. I’m afraid lightening is going to break them."

"You know they are lightening proof."

"What about at night?"

"If the weather is still bad then Goliath won’t send out a patrol." He folded his selected clothes and placed them into his suitcase.

"I hope it’s not too bad tomorrow. Tomorrow is Friendship night and Daddy and I are going gliding."

"I’m pretty sure it will be fine tomorrow," Alex pushed the outfits he had rejected aside and grabbed a few of the rolled up socks. "My Daddy says the weatherman said it’s going to be fine tomorrow. It will be perfect when we fly out to Florida."

"Florida," Charlie repeated. "Where Rayne is from. She says it rains there a lot during the summer."

"It rains a lot here. Grandpa is going to spend the night with us tonight and tomorrow we are going to fly."

"You are going to be gone for three days?" Charlie asked, disappointment creeping into his voice.

"More like ten," Alex dropped the last of his clothing he planed on packing into the case. "We are going to visit the St. Augustine Clan and the McCormick’s and on a good weather day we are going to take a boat and go fishing over the ocean."

"The ocean," Charlie turned back to the window at the sound of rain drops pelting against the glass. "The part of the ocean you can swim in. With beaches."

"There is going to be beaches and I might swim in the water. Mommy won't because she doesn’t like salt water. She prefers the pool." The last thing he slid into his case was the small nylon bag used to store his spare toothbrush, toothpaste, soap case and small bottles of shampoo. " I’ll probably do a lot of swimming in the pool too, and I’ll get to play on the beach a lot. I’m going to make a sand castle and a sandman and a sand fortress and I’m going to look for shells. I’m going to bring you back a bunch of cool ones." He pushed his case closed and flipped up the brass tables to seal it in. He would open it up when his mothers comes in to inspect it, making sure he had everything he needed. He turned around to speak with Charlie but to his Surprise the five year old had left his room, with out a single mention of him announcing he was leaving.

__________________________________________________________________________

"I still can’t believe you are taking me to Florida to fish," Petro’s Xanatos complained from his seat at the Xanatos dining room table. His hands, tan and weathered by many years out on the ocean, were laid flat on the table. "You couldn’t come up and see me to fish. You had to drag me down to south so we can go fishing?"

"It is not just so we can go fishing," David Xanatos said as he thumbed through the stack of papers in front of him. He had to go over the final assignments he is going to hand over to Wen while he was gone. "We will be able to enjoy the beaches and the ocean." He and his father were alone, save for Owen and Matt Bluestone. The detective had to heat himself a small serving of tomato soup. Something about him having to have that kind of soup during a large thunder storm. To him it was comfort food.

Petros did not appear to be convinced. "We have beaches and a ocean in Bar Harbor."

"I remember that ocean," David pretended to shiver. "It wasn’t fun falling into it and its no where comfortable enough to swim."

"You have been spoiled by living in this castle, and you are spoiling my grandson."

"Not everyone here in the castle is spoiled," Xanatos said while Owen set a warm cup of coffee in front of him. "Look at Jam, Elisa Maza and the weregoyles." He pointed at Matt. "As you can see Detective Bluestone here enjoys the same comforts he had when he was growing up in the city."

Petros removed his gaze from his son and placed it on the detective. "Before you lived in the castle what did you do for a living?"

Matt quickly swallowed his spoonful. "The same job I have now. A police detective."

"You still pull your weight and earn your keep?"

"I don’t borrow any of David’s money you mean?" Matt asked. "Pretty much everything I treated myself and my family on comes from my own and my wife’s pockets."

"How did you rise to your rank of Detective?" Petros did not notice as a cup was set next to him. Owen had prepared him a special cup of half decafe and half regular with a light sprinkle of bourbon.

"I was demoted actually," Matt chuckled. "I used to be in the Bearu."

The answered seemed to set Petros back slightly. "You still worked your way into being an agent?"

"I majored in criminology and minored in psychology in College and worked my butt of studying at Quantico."

"You were not handed over your future in the form of a coin, from yourself?"

"Uh, no." Matt noticed how Xanatos kept rolling his eyes. "My grandfather gave me a few silver dollars once and told me to use it for good. I used it to buy a pretty decent sized tote bag and went around collecting cans and bottles."

"You started recycling?" Petros smiled before he took a sip. "Saved up all that money to buy a bicycle?"

"I remembered what my grandfather said and I saved it to buy a wagon instead."

"A wagon?" David looked up from the last papers in the stack. "How old were you?"

Matt smiled sheepishly. "I was twelve. I needed the wagon to help me carry more cans and bottles. I earned money faster and at a rate that didn’t hurt my back as much. Before I knew it I had enough money to treat my grandparents to a nice dinner for their anniversary. I did get a bicycle from my grandfather for my Bar Mitzvah."

"You still kept you grandfather’s lesson in your heart?"

"Yes I did. Wealth should come to those who earn it, but I had to start with those dollar pieces. One of these days I’m going to give my son a few dollars and ask him what he can do with it."

"You do raise a good point," Petros drummed a finger against the table. "I just wished he started with something considerably smaller."

"You know by now you can’t change the past, Pop." Xanatos set his pen down and picked up his cup. "I am pretty sure there are many in this castle are glad for that reason." He shuffled the papers together, straightening the stack before he stood up and handed them to Owen. "Everything that needed to have been signed has been signed."

"And the rest are the assignments you want me to do," Owen nodded.

"You make the poor man work to hard," Petros grumbled. "Couldn’t you give some of the assignments to some of your other employees."

Owen’s stiff expression changed to a small smile. "My main assignment is to divide the tasks. After Mr. Xanatos returns he assured me he was going to give me a few weeks off."

"I still say you deserve a month," David said before he took another drink form his cup.

Owen held the papers closer to his chest. "I hasten to think how you will get long without me for a whole month."

"Nonsense. You deserve some time off and you need to spend some time along with your wife and son. Everybody deserves a vaction now and then."

Petros nodded in agreement. "I like to see how you are treating your employees. You at least value their hard work." The elder Xanatos did not try to hide form stressing the last part of his comment.

Matt was ready for a retort. Years ago he would not have risen to the defense of Xanatos but after years of the billionaire’s friendship and knowing what it was like trying to live up to his own parent’s expectations. "I hate to come in between a family discussion-"

"Daddy!" The comeback was put to screeching halt when Chalie ran into the room and headed straight towards Matt.

"Yes?" The words on the detective’s mind was removed by his son’s presense. He reached down to allow the five year old to climb into his lap. "Is there anything wrong?"

"The thunder clouds are right next to the castle," Charlie began. "And there was lighting right in front of Alex’s window and I was nearly blinded."

"I have heard lightening can do that," Matt said while tousling his son’s hair.. "You got to becareful.I know the storms are interesting to watch, but when the clouds are that close I won’t want you to stare out of the window."

"Was Alex looking out with you?" Petros asked.

"Uh-uh," Charlie shook his head. "He’s packing."

"Packing," Matt smiled. "And all by himself. Did you ask if you could help"

The child nodded. "He said only he could do it because he was packing his favorites."

"Can’t really argue with that kind of logic," David said.

"They are going to Florida and I wont have anyone to play with."

Matt felt his son’s disappointment. He remembered when during the summers his classmates were leaving the city for vacation and he didn’t really have anyone to play with. He hoped his son had at least a few friends from school still in the city.

"I’m sure Xanatos will give us permission to invite a few of your friends over or we could set up some meetings with your friends."

"They are all going on trips," Charlie sighed. "Everyone is going on vacation but me. I don’t have anyone to play with and I have to stay here."

"Has he been on vacation before?" Petros asked.

"Our conditon kind of makes it hard for us." Matt sighed. It really wasn’t fair to Charlie.

"All children need to do something fun for the summer," the elderly man stared at David. "Maybe my big shot of a son can help you out."

"Xanadu is always free," Xanatos suggested.

Matt shrugged. "That is always a possibility," he said. While studying his son’s eye for tears and smiling when he didn’t see any. "I promise you we will do something fun before you have to go back to school." He hoped he would be able to think of something. If not, then Demona would come up with something.

___________________________________________________________________________

Matt slowly stepped out of the shower stall and into the steam filled bathroom. Rivulets of water slowly sliding down his warm, naked body. He took a thick towel and rubbed his chest while he flapped his bronze wings, shaking of the exess water drops. He paused in front of the mirror and despite the thick, white layer on the surface he could make out his reflection.

His mullet of thick, red hair stuck to the back of his neck and shoulders. He wondered how long his color was going to last. The first streaks of silver developed in the last few months. He knew he should be thankful his aging process had been slowed because of his wife’s spell, but the idea of getting older and looking it did not appeal to him.

At least the rest of his body did not show any signs. His limbs still had the rock hard bulge of well toned muscles and his stomach and chest showed no sign of sag. He ran the towel over his chest and stomach again. When he was a regular human  his stomache didn’t sag or had the paunch of some of the older officers, but he didn’t look anything like he did now. He was fit, but not buff. He had no pecs and his abdomen was sleek and smooth. The few years of double duty as gargoyle and training with the clan had given him round and hard pecs and an actual washboard stomach. So what if he was starting to gray? He still had a body he was proud of day and night.

 Because of the weather Goliath had told the clan to take it easy that night. Instead of preparing for a double duty patrol Matt chose to spar with Othello. The former dead gargoyle and his mate, Desdemona still clinging to some of the old ways including not referring to the clan by their names. Matt didn’t mind being refered to as brother, but he smiled when the black gargoyle had finally called him by his name.

After his sparing and before his shower he checked in on his son. Charlie was not quite asleep and wanted his father to read him a story. Matt had only read through the first few pages when Charlie repeated his question from the afternoon. Why couldn’t they go on vacation?

The question still was fresh on Matt’s mind when he left his and Demona’s bathroom. His mate was seated in her wooden rocking chair near the window as she nursed their daughter.

The immortal gargoyle looked up the second she heard him. "How was your shower," Demona spoke barely above a whisper, afraid anything louder would break the silence.

"Refreshing," Matt answered with a kiss on the top of her head before he dropped the damp towel into the hamper. He grabbed on to his loin cloth, draped over the top of the computer chair, only to earn a dissatisfied hiss from his wife. "You don’t want me to get dressed?"

"I want you to stay like that," her eyes lowered to the tiny golden baby in her arms. "After Holly is asleep I want to take full advantage of your night off."

"Until then I should be at least wearing my cloth."

"You can wait in the nude."

"If you insist," Matt approached both mother and daughter. Demona had long stopped rocking and Holly and slipped her lips off from Demona’s nipple. The tiny infant resembled a tiny version of his mate. Along with her chubby baby fat she had the same facial features as Demona: Almond shaped eyes and a sleek nose. Her forehead was crowned with a v shape, almost like a crescent moon that would probably keep the light brown hair, that was developing, from hanging over her eyes. She had tiny blunt spurs on her elbows and knees and her wings had the same elegant shape as both her mother and older sister, Angela. She had her father’s coloring: deep golden skin hue and bronze colored wings with bright red lining.

"She looks sleepy," Matt breathed. He curled his talons back and brushed his knuckles over his daughter’s browridge.

"I guess I should tuck her in so we can enjoy your night off," she slipped the golden infant into his arms before she rose from her seat.

"Our night off," Matt repeated while he kept his eyes on Holly. "That reminds me. I don’t get many nights off."

"Even less than your days off."

"I don’t really ask for many vacation days, except for our breeding season."

She reached for her halter. The pale gray material was lain next to Matt’s clothing on the chair. "You work too hard for both the humans and Goliath."

"Many parents request time off around summer to plan vacations for their families." He stared down at his daughter before looking Demona in the eyes. "Charlie was with Alex when he was packing. He wondered why his friends were allowed to go someplace fun for vacation and he had to stay home for the entire summer."

"You want to go someplace?" She asked as she slipped her breasts into her top.

"I want to," he sighed. "And not just for me. Charlie deserves to go to places like the beach or the mountains. He deserves to fly to California or Florida and ride the teacups and the Cat in the Hat."

"What is holding us back? Are we afraid of the humans and how they might react to our gargoyle selves?"

"I am afraid of them attacking my children."

"But we can be discreet, withdraw into our hotel room before sunset," she careful took Holly out of his arms. "The days are longer in the summer."

"What about Holly? She’s too small to be taken on an airplane."

"I can’t leave her," Demona paused near the doorway.

"My parents can take care of her."

"I do have that breast pump. As for traveling we can fly on a private plane."

"One of Xanatos’s?" Matt raised his brow ridges.

"One of mine," She smiled. "I have the perfect place in mind. Your cousin’s beach house in South Carolina."

"She might be using it."

"And she might not. All you have to do is ask." She exited the room, her eyes never leaving her infant. "You better still be naked when I return."

Matt blinked the second the door closed. It seemed, to him, that once again his mate had solved one of his problems for him. Charlie was going to have the vacation he wanted. he was going to fly on a plane, albeit a small one, sleep over at a place other than home, play in the sand and sea. He just had to cover one small detail.

Demona had ordered him to stay unclothed but she did not say to stay uncovered. He knew he shouldn’t feel wary about talking to relatives when he was nude, but it was just a small quirk from his past human life. Before he grabbed onto the phone he slipped his legs under the sheets and pulled them to his waist.

The phone rang three times prompting Matt to wonder if he was going to get the machine instead. He was not going to hear whatever strange message his cousin had programmed .

She picked up in the middle of the fourth ring. "Hello?" Mars Bluestone spoke into the other end, her voice sounded panicked. "Gash! I mean hello?"

"Mars?" Matt asked. "Is everything okay?"

"I just kind of got out of the shower. I was just putting my pants on when you rang."

"You don’t have to include all the details," Matt sighed. The tension fled from his body as he leaned back against the pillows. "I’m just glad something isn’t wrong. You sounded panicked when you picked up the phone."

"I thought you didn’t want me to explain," Mars teased.

"And I don’t, I just wanted to ask you a question."

"Fire when ready."

"You are not going to use your beach house any time soon?"

"Nah. I’m too busy with the upcoming cartoon."

"Cartoon?" He sat up. "Is Night Angel going to be a series?

"Fox made the go ahead. I just have to finish editing the script."

"You are not doing everything?"

"Hell no, I’m just did the character designs and the script for the pilot episode. I’m not doing everything."

"Good to know. Charlie is probably going to watch it. He’s the main reason why I called."

"He wants to go to the beach?"

"He just wants to go somewhere for the summer like his friends."

"Normal, and I’m not saying that is the bad kind of normal. Family vacations is good not just for the children but adults also. I know what is going to come from my mouth next will leave a bunch of gooey sugar sap in your ear but it’s true. Little kids don’t stay little kids for long. They grow up way too fast and before you know it will be too late to try to build memories. Taking Charlie and Holly to the beach and to camp and any where else will help create those precious treasures called memories. You are going to need to build them now when they are young."

"I wish uncle Stanley and Aunt Susan where able to hear this. You are starting to sound like a grown up."

"I am?" Mars voice weakened. "Oh yuck! I got to do something drastic. Like hop on the back of a Harley and pick up some sushi."

"I didn’t know Cazador had a motorcycle."

"Did I say I was going to hop on his bike? I said I was going to hop onto the back of a Harley. I didn’t say whose."

Matt rolled his eyes. "That sounds like my immature and wild cousin. I just got what I needed. Take care and try not to scare the person on the motorcycle." He heard her good bye, but was not paying attention, not with his wife approaching the bed wearing nothing, save for her earrings.

_______________________________________________________________________

"Turn here," Miranda McCormick answered as she tapped the directions to Andrea Whitney’s house with a blunt fingernail. The plump woman readjusted her blue tinted sunglasses. The late afternoon sun sliced though the windshield and threatened to burn her retinas. The shade did not provide much help.

Fox Xanatos smiled and the green sign framed by cobblestones welcoming them to a sub division named Duchess Creek. "We should be close to Whitney’s house. How many rooms did she say she has?"

"About four bedrooms and she and her fiancee only sleep in one."

"That will leave us two to a room," she pulled to a full stop in front of a stop sign and glanced behind her. The McCormick’s owned a van, not a minion, but an actual van. There was plenty of room for Henry and David to stretch out on the dark gray, upholstered seats and nap. In the row behind her’s and Miranda’s husbands, both Petros and Alex were nearly leaning against each other. Alex had, apparently, enough sleep. The seven year old sat up and yawned. His light blue eyes blinked a few times before he yawned again, more audible the second time.

"We are almost there," Fox murmured as she shifted the van into drive. "Try not to wake the others." She pulled into the division, driving past houses with long drive ways and well manicured lawns. Both she and Miranda kept their eyes peeled for the street signs.

_________________________________________________________________________

Andrea Whitney lived in a pale blue house with a dark brown roof. The awning like shingled covering over the porch was semi supported by slender columns. The same friendly woman David had met last January was waiting for them, seated at her porch swing. The second she saw the van pull into the long drive way she flew from her seat and ran down her rose bush lined pathway that connected the porch to the driveway. She was dressed causally in a short sleeved blue top and knee length Capri shorts. The sandals on her feet appear to have been made out of macramé and displayed her toenails, neatly trimmed and painted a bright shade of coral.

"I’m so glad you could make it," Andrea gushed. "Welcome to my house, well, our house."

"Ms Whitney," Xanatos smiled at her. Of all who napped, he was the least disheveled. His bangs were pressed against the side of his head and he had a pink mark, caused by sleeping against the upholstery, fading on his cheek. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

"I feel the same," Whitney never lost her 100-kilowatt smile. She held her hand out towards the others. "Hi, I’m Andrea Whitney, oh wait, you already knew that."

Fox ignored the woman’s slight slip of the memory and accepted her hand. "I’m Fox."

"I remember you from that show," Whitney said before holding her hand out to the McCormick’s. "I’m happy to see you again Mr. McCormick. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you instantly."

"I lost a lot more weight since then," McCormick explained.

"That’s right. Are you still on Atkins?"

"I weaned a little more of myself off of it. I enjoy two servings of carbs and two sugars."

"I’m his wife, Miranda," the middle aged woman shook her hand.

"This is my father," Xanatos introduced the elderly man with him. "Petros Xanatos."

"Nice too see such a friendly face," Petros tried to match her expression. "The others were right about you. You are as sunny as this state."

"Thanks a bunches," Whitney blushed as she tucked away a few sandy blond strands behind her ears. She was still blushing when she caught sight of Alex as he bounced around on the walk. "And who is this handsome young man?"

"This is our son, Alex." David replied. "Say hello, Alex."

The seven year old brushed the bangs from hanging over his eyes, ready to give a smart mouth answer, the type that would earn a stern word from his mother, but looking into Whitney’s grin, he lost all motivation of trying to be comedian. "Hello Miss Whitney." He held up his hand, hoping she would shake it.

"What a charmer," Andrea shook his hand.

"My father will be taking Alex to visit the settlement while we discuss business," David explained.

"This is about the Network?" Her tone had turned more serious but did not loose a spark of warmth. "After hearing about how well it works, Coquina and the others are very close to saying yes."

"This is good."

She held up a finger. "Just a little more coaxing and bingo. Come on inside. It is way too hot out here. We can go over sleeping arrangements."

"Are you sure you have plenty of room to accommodate us," Petros asked as he pulled a few of the suit cases out from the back, not noticing one of the smaller bags was about to fall off.

Whitney quickly grabbed onto it. "There is plenty of room. Raoul and I were able to afford a place with four bedrooms. One is our bedroom, one is a den, one’s the office and the third is a guestroom. The guestroom has an actual bed. The office has a love seat that pulls out into a bed and the den has a couch that turns into a bed." She picked up another, more heavier piece of luggage.

"Fox and I can sleep on the love seat bed," Xanatos said as he helped her and his father.

"We’ll take the den," Henry McCormick said.

"You said you live with someone?" Petros raised his eyebrows. "Where is he?"

"He’s in bed," Whitney explained. "Poor Raoul has got Laryngitis and a fever. We checked and it’s not strep throat. You probably won’t see him the weekend you are here. Since hes probably going to spend most of it in bed. He’s a big baby when he gets sick."

"That is the same for all of our husbands when they get sick," Fox gently rubbed her elbow against her husband’s arm before she picked up her suitcase.

________________________________________________________________________

The small single story house was exactly like the image in the photograph Demona held. The immortal lowered the picture as her husbands rental car neared the rows of nearly identical wooden houses, separated by thin white picket fences. The house owned by Mars and Cazador was unique by it’s pale yellow paint and dark blue trim.

"Here we are," Matt announced as he pulled into the gravel driveway.

"When can I go swimming?" Charlie asked.

"We just arrived and he already wants to go swimming." Matt shook his head. "Can you believe this kid?"

"I can believe him because I believe you and you are his father," Dominique placed the picture in her pocket and unbuckled her seat belt. Stepping out of the car , she felt the pebbles lining the driveway crunch under her sneakers. The warm sun striking against her skin was counteracted when a cool breeze, carrying a faint scent from the ocean, blew her through her hair, and threatened to unravel her crimson pony tail.

She approached the rear of the car, only stopping when the right door to the back seats opened, and Charlie tumbled out.

"Mine, mine, mine!" His arms flapped up and down as he ran around in a circle.

"This whole place is ours," Dominique corrected. "Actually, it belongs to your big cousin."

"I’m a seagull," Charlie explained.

"I see," she smiled. "You are a seagull who can carry his own suit case?" She removed the chill sized suitcase from the trunk and handed it to him before grabbing on to both of the smaller cases.

Matt hefted the larger two suitcases out onto the drive before slamming the trunk closed. "I’ll be able to carry these in but you are going to have to do most of the unpacking."

"Why?" Dominique asked as she tried to pulled the two wheeled cases towards the wooden steps, she ended up having to drag them for the lack of friction.

"Mars told me the place is furnished but we are going to have to buy food." He explained.

"Everything else is here?"

"We got towels and bedding, plus the electricity, water and phone lines have been pre paid. We can call my folks back home and see how Holly is doing." They had decided their daughter was too young for the trip. Dominique had originally suggested Holly to stay at the castle, but Matt didn’t want to burden the clan with another child and felt it would be better if she stayed with his parents. She agreed and gave Miriam and Steve plenty of canisters of formula and containers of breast milk.

"Just make sure you are back before sunset."

Matt removed a key from his pocket and slipped it into the keyhole. He waited until his family had entered before he hefted the two large suitcases inside. "I am used to timing it just right," He kissed his wife on the mouth and tousled his son’s hair before leaving.

Dominique stared at the two bags her husband left, not even noticing the door had closed behind her. She’ll take care of them after she had unpacked the other two. "Come on Charlie, lets find our rooms."

"Where did daddy go?" Charlie asked as he wandered around the living room. He was sure it was a living room. There was a couch and a coffee table, a small table with a sea shell shaped lamp and a small TV on another table. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen a TV that small. It was even smaller than the one in his parent’s and Alex’s rooms.

"He’s going to get food," Dominique explained while she flipped up the light switch to one of the rooms. It had a king sized bed, large brown wooden dressed that was big enough for two and adjacent bathroom. The bed was not made, only the fitted sheet was placed over the matress leaving the rest of the coverings folded and placed at the foot of the bed.

"Is this my room?" Charlie found a smaller room with a queen sized bed, dresser and a small round wooden table with a chair near the window.

"This looks like it," his mother pointed at the unmade bed. "You know how to make your bed and you can put your clothes in the dresser."

"Where are you going?"

"I’m going to unpack and check on your sister."

Charlie wasn’t sure how to unpack exactly. His parents explained it was like packing but in reverse. Did that mean he was supposed to take the clothes out of his back pack and put it somewhere?

He should at least try. He opened up the bottom shelf of his dresser and grabbed some clothes from his suit case, nothing in particular, just the top layer and placed it in the bottom shelf. He continued the slapdash matter until he had placed all of his clothing into the dresser, leaving the few toys and books he brought on the bed.

Charlie wanted to see how far they were from the beach. He ran over towards the window and stared out, not expecting to see the beach and the ocean so close.

"Mommy come look!" Charlie shouted as he climbed up the windowsill to get a better look at the scenery. He stared out over the calm ocean, watching a few boats and something near the corner left of his vision. Something that looked like a small rock with a hole floating on the waves.

"Coming," Demona said as she entered the room. her parenting instinct instantly kicked in at the sight of her son standing on window sill. "Get down form there."

"I wanna see the rock."

"What rock?" Demona stood behind him. She was impressed with the beach and ocean for a back yard.

"There," Charlie placed his thumb on the window, obstructing her view and slid it down."

"I don’t know if that is a rock," Demona squinted. "I believe it’s a small island. with a cave."

"Island?" Charlie asked as he lowered himself from the sill "And a cave?"

"That is what it looks like," Demona grabbed him by the waist and lowered him to the ground.

"Can we go see it?"

"I don’t know if we can. We may be able to rent a boat but we have to find out if it’s safe first."

"Can we glide to it?"

Demona had to smile. He already knew the cave might not be accessible to the humans, but there was a possibility the gargoyles could glide to it.

"We will see," she told him. ‘I don’t want you to glide out to it by yourself. Now lets grab a couple of your buckets and look for seashells."

___________________________________________________________________________________

During the day, not many would give the statues decorating the cornices and towers of the castle like museum a second thought. People might notice them when they venture out on the roof to view the observatories, where they can stare out over the nearest rooftops and the nearby fortress, but they were regaurded as just statues.

The observation deck was closed at five p.m.. It’s been that way since the museum was first built and the original owner learned the secret of the statues. There was a new owner and she did not know, but she honored the tradition of closing the roof at five.

Despite the deck being officially forbidden to the public four people cleared the stairs to the stone roof top. The owner may be in the dark, but some of the employees knew, including Andrea Whitney. "The view up here is spectacular," she said as Henry McCormick and Fox and David Xanatos climbed up behind her.

"Breathtaking," McCormick’s small brown eyes widened at the sight of the towers rounding out reach of the corners and the gargoyles resting on the edges of the walls and battlements. He approached one of the viewers positioned between two of the stone gargoyles. "People don’t notice them?"

"The clan makes sure they find places that are not blocking the viewers." Whitney explained.

"I mean, do people not know what they are?"

"None of the visitors really think about it."

"I think those two guards know," Fox said while watching the sun, resembling one of the citrus fruits Florida was famous for, slowly sink lower in the sky. "It was the way they were smiling at us."

"Of course they know," the blond woman chuckled. "All members of security know, and so do a handful of tour guides and a few curators."

"And you are the only manager?" Xanatos raised an eyebrow..

"The only manager here. Some of the clan had befriended a restaurant manager."

"Do they have any other friends?" David asked.

"There are a few police officers and a doctor and several students from Ocean Mist High."

"They seem to not be afraid of humans," Xanatos said while keeping his eyes on a group of nearby gargoyles. "I am most positive they will say yes."

"Like I have said they just need a few words to prod them into the right direction."

Fox wanted to ask if the clan would not object to seeing three strangers, but kept her mouth closed. They where similar to Goliath’s clan, trying to reach out and befriend humans. The clan leader and her second would have recognized both David and McCormick from the council.

She stepped back from the stone forms the second she heard the familiar cracking sounds of the petrified skin fracturing around their forms. She stepped back as they stood up, to avoid the sharp flying projectiles of their skin.

Rosy red and alabaster white illuminence faded from the eyes of the gargoyles as they turned around. Several were smiling, ready to greet their human friends, but their friendly expressions faded at the sight of the three strangers.

"These are our friends," Andrea held up her hands. "They are the human friends of the clan from Central Florida and Manhattan."

"We have met," a female gargoyle from above had a called out as she glided down. The plump female landed with the same amount of grace as a antelope. The two silver horns, contrasting with her apricot coloring, were the same horns as a prong horn. The tops and bottoms of her dark purple, split wings were adorned with sharp spikes. "Welcome to clan St. Augustine."

"Coquina," Xanatos nodded at her as a violet male landed next to her. He stood at exactly seven feet. The single claws on the tops of his wings were long snd sythe like. His thick dome shaped head was toped with a single point. "And you are Leon?"

"Your are correct," the bald gargoyle said gruffly. He kept his arms bolded across his buff chest while glaring at the unfamiliar humans with his small eyes.

"They remember our names," Coquina said as she brushed her knuckles across his forehead. "They have only seen us once and it’s been well over six months." She turned to both Xanatos and McCormick. "I understand you both traveled a bit of a way to see us. Welcome to our home." She folded a wing over her shoulder and curtsied in front of them.

"Forgive me," Leon’s deep voice rumbled . "Come brothers and sisters. We shall leave Coquina to speak with Andrea and our human friends. We must tend to the hatchlings and prepare our dinner."

Xanatos cleared his throat while holding out a hand towards the clan leader "I see you and your mate are true equals."

"We divide up some of the duties between ourselves, but I still make the important decisions."

"Almost like my wife and I, but we split all the decisions between ourselves," David stepped aside to allow Fox to be able to shake Coquina’s hand. "This is my wife Fox."

"I am pleased to meet you and your clan," Fox said, accepting her hand. "Your home is beautiful."

"Thank you Mrs., Xanatos."

"Please call me Fox."

"I suppose we are all on first name basis," McCormick took the clan’s leader’s hand next. "You can call me Henry. I’m sorry Miranda is not here. She wanted to stay at Andrea’s house and help take care of the Xanatos’s son." After being cooped up in a van all day Fox wanted to let both Alex and Petros to be able to unwind. Miranda had optioned to stay behind, to help Petros keep Alex out of trouble, and not bother Raoul.

"They are at the house with Raoul?" Coquina raised her browridges a half inch.

"I’m sure my father will keep Alex from bothering him," David smiled.

"Is Raoul feeling any better?"

"He broke his fever, but his throat is still sore," Andrea explained.

"Atlanta’s remedies haven’t helped?" Her eyes warmed for the concern of her friend.

"It’s not as painful ass before. He’s able to swallow without gasping out in pain."

"It is the start of his recovery. I’m sure she has more." She turned to their guests. "I’m sorry if I may seem a bit rude. Please follow me to the part of our home where we eat and relax." She lead the humans down the stairs, into the museum.

_________________________________________________________________________

When they climbed up the steps towards the observation deck Fox noted it was a tight squeeze between the small hallway and the walled in space with the two doors. She had wondered why there was limited space in the top floor since the museum was large. What could have been possibly behind those doors.

"The door on the right is the real storage room," Coquina explained as her talons left the bottom steps. "It is much smaller than the other room."

"And what is in the other room?" Henry asked.

"You will see," Coquina promised as she opened the door on the left. "Follow me."

Entering the room, Fox could see where most of the space went. It was like stepping into a large house. There were several couches placed in front of a large screen television. Another couch was placed next to large book case placed in front of a divider, leaving a large gap for several gargoyles to walk through and other forms of entertainment lined the corners. A stereo system was in one corner, a table with a smaller TV and a few video game consoles was in another. There was also a long desk with a few computers and office chairs, and another divider with a gap in the middle.

Fox stared past the divider separating the living room from the space behind it. She could make out a several dinning tables with matching chairs. Several child like squeals were emitted from the divider near the computers.

"This is where you eat and recreate," Xanatos said, doing next to nothing to hide the impressed tone of his voice.

"You have got love the original owner," Andrea gushed. "He worked with the architect to create this room. Made sure there was plumbing and electricity. creating the bathroom and kitchen was hardest with the tubs and stoves and stuff."

"You are welcome to join us for dinner," Coquina invited," unless Andrea had fed you."

"We have already eaten," McCormick explained. "Andrea here is an excellent chef."

"That is true," the St. Augustine leader smiled at her human friend. "if we are not going to eat then she should proceed to why you and David have traveled, Henry." She pulled aside a white gargoyle adolescent. "I wish to speak with Shean and Quis."

"We don’t want to keep you from dinner," Fox interjected as the youth ran off. "Or from your duties."

"Don’t worry. If need be I shall eat in front of the computer and as for my leadership duties," she glanced towards the dining room where Leon was speaking with a group of three gargoyles. "Like I have said before, my mate and I share most of the responsibilities. He is assigning patrol routes. If something really important arises I shall be notified."

"You wanted to see me?" A young male gargoyle had approached them. The tan youth appeared no older than Marle, Rayne and the trio. Garnet red hair was cut semi short and the sides of his head had been shaven away, leaving him with a mohawk. A single short horn, surrounded by a ring of knobby spikes, was in the middle of his forehead. A tattoo of a slender Eastern dragon was etched with black ink in the yellow lining of his dark green, ribless wings. He had a silver earring of a ninja star in his left ear and was dressed in a bright red pair of surfer trunks and a black short sleeved shirt with a safety pin holding the ends together.

"I wanted to see both you and Schean," Her eyes narrowed at him. "Where is she?"

"She’s getting soda’s for everyone," the younger gargoyle explained.

"Why didn’t she tell me first, Quis?"

The tan gargoyle rolled his eyes. "Because she is Schean. When she wants to be courteous she doesn’t think about checking in first."

"Can’t change that habit," Coquina sighed. "Why didn’t you help her?"

"It’s okay," a fushia hued female gargoyle approached them, her arms were loaded with several cans of Minute Maid. "I don’t mind doing it by myself. Her short beak was pulled into a smile. Dark blue hair, flowing down to where her wings connected with her back were kept out of her eyes by a row of long needle-like quills. Her bright pink wings were lined with ink like blackness. A large white flower was tucked behind her ear. "Is anyone thirsty?" She was dressed in pale yellow halter top with an image of a conch shell spray painted in pastel colors and a pair of light blue denim shorts with frayed edges.

"Yeah me," the corner of Quis’s mouth turned up into a cocky smirk as he held out his hand, palm up, with two talons wiggling.

"Guests are always first," she chose to ignore him, not loosing her smile for a second. She used her tail, ending in five finger like appendages to hand a can out towards the humans.

"I am feeling a bit parched," McCormick accepted couple cans from her and gave one to Andrea.

"I haven’t had lemonade for a while," Andrea opened up her drink. "Thank you."

"I’m not thirsty now," Xanatos said as he took a can for himself and his wife. "but in a few minutes."

"Thank you for thinking of our guests," Coquina said before she leaned closer to Fox. "Schean is very much like Andrea. She may be absent minded, but she is almost always upbeat and thinking of others first."

The last three cans Schean had carried were for her, Quis and Coquina. "May I ask what the job is?"

"This is about the Network idea the council pitched last January," Coquina explained. She turned to the humans and pointed at the two younger gargoyles with the tip of her tail. "They are my two computer experts. Quis is excellent at hacking and fixing computers. He knows about most online and hardware problems. Schean is more software oriented. Coding, flash programs and building web pages are her specialty."

"Just don’t ask us to do any photoshop stuff," Quis opened his can by pressing a talon through the top.

"It is not photoshop stuff. I need you to log onto the gargoyles Network."

The tan gargoyle nearly spit out his leomonaid. "Is that all? You could of asked one of the others to go on. Hell, you cold have done it yourself."

Despite his rude outburst Coquina did not get angry. Her expression did not even change. "I want you to log onto it to see if you can get hack into it, try to break through the forces."

Her instruction caused Fox to tense up. "You are going to hack into the Network?"

"We are going to try," Coquina didn’t even look at her.

"I don’t think this is a good idea," the halfling slid through the crowd and placed herself in front of the younger two gargoyles. "I don’t like the fact you are going to try."

"Is this wise?" McCormick asked Whitney while staring at both the woman and David. "You are not going to try to delete any of their hard work?"

"I think they are only trying to test the security," David said, hoping to calm his wife down. "I usually ask Lexington to give test runs on our systems. If he can’t get through any of the firewalls then we are safe.

"Just as long as they are not going to do something to the sites," Fox stepped aside.

"Even if I could get through the security I wouldn’t alter it," Quis interjected. "I’ve already tried and failed. I try once a week and everytime I think they had installed a different firewall."

"You have already tried?" Coquina’s voice was low. "When did you start?"

"When I first heard of it, after you returned from the council. I couldn’t resist trying and when Andrea first gave us the address I had to give it a shot."

"When Andrea gave it to you?" The clan leader stared at their close human friend. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

Andrea shrugged. "He asked for the address and you never asked if I was going to give it to him."

"Do you need me for anything else?" Quis took a long noisy gulp from his can.

"No, that is all." She spoke through clenched teeth. "You may go now if you wish."

"I didn’t peek at their coding," Schean spoke up. "I mean, I did sneak a few peeks, but I don’t know how they did all the layouts, or the Java script for the chat room."

"You don’t have to apologize. Both of you have proven to me what I needed to know, except for a few things."

"And what did they prove to you?" Xanatos asked

"I wanted to see how safe the Network was," Coquina replied. "I also need to know something and only you and McCormick can answer."

"That is what we are here for," Henry chuckled. "We drove all they way here to answer any questions you may have about the Network."

"I only had a few," she paused to take another sip of her beverage. "I was curious about the Network when I first learned about it, but like some humans who do research about the products they want to buy I waited. I wanted to see how well it worked. Andrea had called you, Mr. McCormick to ask about it. My main question was about how secure it was," she shot a look at the back of Quis as he and Schean left for the dining area. "but as I can see it has already been answered. The security is safe."

"And the other questions?"

"I want to know how well it is working."

"More than what we could hope for," Henry grinned. " We have already started a board where the clans were posing their traditions and explaining them. We were well prepared for Xanatos and his family to arrive because the Manhattan clan had notified Daunte."

"Are there any other connections?"

"We have checked the sight before we drove up here. The Irish clan are preparing for a small meeting with the Jordan clan. They are both working together to trace the time of the Irish clan’s eggs, see how long they have survived and if they started another generation."

Coquina was quiet for a minute before she took a sip from her drink. "I understand the system is doing quite as well as you expected and hoped." A pregnant pause lapsed between her words. "I'm ready to include our clan into the network, but one thing must be done."

"We understand if you have further questions," Xanatos said.

"No, no more questions." She waved the suggestion away. "We just need to vote on it. Unfortunately there are a handful of us who are on patrol and may not be able to vote until they have returned, and I want everyone’s voice."

"Should we wait?" Fox asked.

"We don’t how long until they return. We will give our decision to one of the guards before we sleep."

________________________________________________________________

"You are going to burn," Dominique’s voice was not teasing or mirthful, it was a lecturing tone. The immortal had forgone her prefered outfits she had worn on her day off and was dressed in a bright yellow,lace trimmed bikini. She had originally wanted to wear her loin cloth and halter, but the idea of sand riding up her backside had her settle on the swimwear. She sprawled out on a deck chair made of canvas and wood. Her toes, free from the flip flops were entrenched into the sand.

"I’m not going to burn," Matt protested as he rubbed his hair dry with a towel. He had just left the ocean, coming out of the lukewarm waves after a quick swim. The salt water trickled down his body and dripped onto the sand, before it was quickly absorbed. "I put on a good layer of screen."

They both had woken up a half hour after dawn and wanted to remain in bed a little longer. They may have had more time to cuddle if Charlie hadn’t bounced into the room waving his plastic bucket around, demanding to be taken to the beach. They finally relented, but made him promise to wait until they had all gotten a descent breakfast first.

"You were just swimming," she unzipped the cloth totebag placed next to the beach umbrella. Both the large red umbrella, chairs and towels were found in the closet of the house. Her fingers found the cool bottle of Hawaiian Tropic.

"Read the bottle, my love. It’s SPA 30 and water proof." He slipped his feet into his own pair of sandals, the same light blue shade as his speedos.

She peered at her mate over her pair of sunglasses. "Are you trying to get out of a massage?"

A single eyebrow rose high over his eye. "Is that why you are lecturing me?"

"Why else would I insist?" She set the bottle down on the towel between their chairs and stared down at Charlie. Both she and Matt had chosen to set up on the highest part of the beach, where even the waves of high tide couldn’t reach them. Charlie had taken his plastic buckets and a couple of Solo cups down a few feet lower. He needed to mix the dry sand with the mud like substance where the waves slapped agaisnt the land in order to construct a decent sand castle.

"I thought you were worried about my skin," Matt smiled. "After you’re done with me I can return the favor."

She pointed to the towel, indicating she wanted him to lay down there. "Maybe I should allow you to go first. You have spent more time in the sun than I have."

"But you are more experienced with your fingers."

"You knew about the precautions," she stared at her arms. The copper hued dots scattered across her creamy white flesh was the focus of her attention. "I haven’t. I just wanted to feel the warm sun against my weak human skin and did not think about the consequences. The possibility I could freckle had never crossed my mind."

"I don’t call them freckles," Matt said, reaching up to take her hand. "I call them kiss spots." He placed his lips against her skin, onto of the most noticeable freckles. His lips barely left her arm before he brought them down again, kissing another spot.

"We can play this game another time," Demona forced herself to pull away, her eyes had gravitated toward her son once more. The castle he was constructing look less like the grand buildings she knew from her homeland, and appeared more like space station with it’s large curved shapes.

"If you insist," Matt stretched out across his stomach. "Maybe we can play a different game out here...at night."

"You know what keeps me happy," Demona purred as she squirted a palmful of the creamy, coconut scented substance into her hand. She rubbed her palms together, spreading the substance across her hands evenly and reached down to knead her mate’s back.

________________________________________________________________

Charlie worked at gathering most of the loose sand into a pile and evenly mixing the gooey mud creating an almost clay like substance. He had chosen one of his buckets to be the sludge bucket and would occasionally fill it with the wettest sand, scooping in his bucket whenever the waves retract, occasionally taking in some of the sea water.

He wanted to make a unique castle, not a huge one, but something that looked interesting enough for his parents to take a picture of. He started with a large square base, a couple of inches thick, and placed buckets of sand on top, the mixture held the shape of the bucket when he removed the plastic container. Using a stick he found he hollowed out the domes, leaving enough support to keep them from crumbling. The last detail would involve the Solo cups. He would top the domes with smaller turrets.

Before he stood up to gather another, and probably the last bucket of sludge he needed, he checked back on his parents. He wished he hadn’t. They were too close to each other and it looked like their lips were about to touch. Yuck. He hated when his parents had mushed out. He didn’t know why Alex had called it that. Maybe it was because it made his parents soft like the muck he gathered for his sand. He’ll just push that thought out his head.

His fingers were grasped around the handle of his bucket, ready to haul it towards the mud. He was not expecting a bright orange plastic disk to fly towards him and land a few inches from his feet.

"You better go get it Mikey!" An older kid’s voice was heard before a little blond boy around Charlie's age ran towards him.

The child slowed down as he neared the weregoyle. "It did not hit you did it?" the young boy spoke with a southern accent. His bright brown eyes glanced at the Frisbee and back at him. He was dressed in a pair of dark blue swimming trunks with images of Ninja turtles dotting the material. "I’m Mikey."

"My name is Charlie," he responded while he picked it up. "It didn’t hit me."

"They made me have to go after it because I couldn’t catch it," Mikey explained.

Charlie handed the Frisbee to him. "Catch this? Who made you?"

"My brother, and sister and Andrew and Tiffany," the blond child pointed down further on the beach towards a small group of children.

"Who are you talking to?" One of the girls called out.

"His name is Charlie."

"Ask him if he wants to play," the older of the two boys in the group asked.

"Do you want to play?"

"I dunno," Charlie shrugged. "I have to ask my parents." He pointed toward where his mother and father were resting, hoping they had finished the gross stuff. To his luck both of them were racing down the sand towards them.

Dominique had reached the two boys first, her eyes were fixed in a glare as she pulled her son closer to her. "Who are you?"

The stinging cold tone of her voice made it appear the human child had been slapped. "Mikey." He stepped backwards, never removing his gaze from Dominique.

"He invited me to play with him and his friends," Charlie said while trying to slip out of his mother’s grasp. "Can I go?"

"Sure you can," Matt got in a word before his wife could say anything. "It is good you are making new friends."

"We don’t know anything about him," Demona whispered into his ear, her eyes never left the strange child.

"Won’t know until you learn, but if it will make you happy I will go with them."

"And what should I do without my two favorite men?"

"Check on our daughter and take a picture of Charlie’s sandcastle." Matt extended his hand for his son but Charlie shook his head. He wasn’t going to force him to hold onto his hand and allowed the two boys to lead him to the group of children.

To Matt’ relief the children were supervised. Four adults were seated out on towels and shielded from the heat of the sun by large ruffled umbrellas. The woman were in the middle of a discussion. The Asian woman was holding a infant, no older than a year old in her lap, and holding on to a half full bottle of milk in her hand. The other woman appeared older than her by ten years. A cloth white visor shielded her eyes from the sun and kept her chestnut hair back.

The men were a few inches from the women. The fatter man was stretched out on his back, his spare tire slowly rising with each breath he took. His skin tone was a pinkish beige with a farmers tan of light golden brown arms and legs. The other man was much younger than the corpulent one and even whiter than Matt with a crew cut of light brown hair and a small beard.

"Charlie you go on and play with Mikey," Matt told him. "But stay where I can see you."

"Okay daddy," Charlie said as he followed Mikey to the group of children. Another blond boy threw the disc towards Charlie, demonstrating how to throw the toy. Charley threw it back at him..

"Hey," Matt turned at the sudden out burst. The corpulent man was slowly getting to his feet.. "Who are you?" His voice was rich with a southern accent.

"My name is Matt Bluestone," he pointed towards his cousin’s beach house.He strained his eyes, trying to see if he could find his mate on the beach. " My family is vacationing in the house next door. I’m just following my boy over here." He pointed at the only red-haired child amongst the group.

The other man stared at the group of children as they played. His mouth pulled into a smile when he saw Charlie. "It looks like another one gravitated over here."

"I just wanted to make sure there was an adult watching them play. Four is more than enough."

"That is probably what Justin and I told our wives, except with us it’s three " the heavier of the two men pointed towards the younger man near the women before turning towards the children. "Hey Tyler," He paused until the oldest child had turned around. "Where did you find the new kid?"

"Mikey found him," the oldest child said, speaking with the same southern accent as the fat man. He appeared to have been either ten or eleven with tall lanky limbs. Dark brown curls coifed his head. "I invited him to play."

"You teaching him how to play?" His father continued to speak to him in an authoritative tone.

"Yes sir."

"You becareful. He’s close to your brother’s and Drew’s age."

"Charlie is a tough kid," Matt explained. "And he’s pretty careful."

"You can’t be too careful," he held his hand out to Matt. "I’m Craig Faustine from Savanna Georgia. That is my wife Julia and you have met my group of brats, Tyler, Regina and Mikey." He pointed at the children, from oldest to the youngest. "Our next door neighbors on the other side are Ned and M’ling Campbell from Chicago. You have also met their brood: Andrew, but he only answers to Drew, and Tiffany, and little Tanna is the baby."

"I already introduced myself and Charlie," Matt said. "My wife, Dominique is next door with our things." He glimpsed back towards the house next door. "Seeing the kids are going to be okay I can head back."

"Why not stay a while?" Craig asked. "The Campbells gravitated over here, and it looks like you Bluestone’s are doing it too. We can stretch out, enjoy a cold beverage-"

"It’s too early for beer," Matt interrupted.

"Couldn’t agree more," Craig chuckled. "That is why we are drinking ice tea and Sprite."

"I’ll be back, just get my towel and my wife," the detective pointed towards his rental house while walking towards it at the same time. He knew it would take some convincing to persuade Dominique to join them, but not much.

________________________________________________________________________

Dominique could not explain why she did eventually agree to her husband’s desire to abandon their temporary home go to the house next store to sit amongst a few human women and drink iced tea, while the men flopped out on the middle of their towels under on sun bleached sand, nor could she explain why she was listening in on the story of how Tiffany Campbell won the talent show at her school with her tap dancing skills.

There were various possibilities of why she parked herself under the umbrella shared by the two women, but the most logical that came to her mind was the sight of the one year old Tanna.. Seeing the infant stretch out on her mother’s lap sent Dominique’s mind to her infant daughter and an overbearing twinge of guilt burned in her heart. Both M’ling and Julia agreed with her desiscion of keeping Holly in the city, both feeling a child of three month’s age was too young to travel.

"Mommy watch!" Charlie cried out as he dumped a bucket load of sand onto his father’s chest. The four boys were working together, burrying their fathers under the sand while the two girls went searching for seashells. Both Matt and Campbell were buried half way in the granules . Craig had the grainy material covering his chest, legs and arms, but his belly was still exposed, painting an image of Broadway in Demona’s mind.

"Good job," Dominique said. "Becareful to let him breath."

"I will mommy," Charlie shouted as he shoveled in more sand into his bucket.

"He’s such an adorable child," M’ling complimented.

"He got most of his looks from his father," Dominique said while not even trying to hide her smile.

"No wonder," Julia grind. "Your husband is quite a catch. How does he keep his physique?"

"We have plenty of gym equipment at our home," Dominique explained.

"That would explain it. Of course being the CEO of your corporation would mean you could afford anything."

"Hush," M’ling brought her finger to her lips. The other women were not sure if she wanted to silence Juilia because she was bordering on jealousy, or she was afraid her infant would wake up too early from from her nap. "Dominique is a good influence to the girls." She smiled at the red head. "My older daughter wants to be like you when she grows up.

‘I doubt she exactly wants to grow up like me,’ Dominique thought. "Why thank you, although when I created Nightstone being an influence on the next generation of women was not on my mind."

"Sometimes you can’t help to be what you are," M’ling said.

"Do you have any plans while you are vacationing here?" Julia asked as she removed the visor from her forhead and ran her fingers through her hair. A bright, scarlet line ran along her forehead.

"Mostly just sun, surf and sand," Demona replied. Her eyes briefly sought out the small island Charlie had found the afternoon before. "I may see about renting a boat to visit the little island."

"That island?" Julia pointed in the direction Demona was looking. "It’s next to impossible to dock and the ground is very slippery from the sea water and the seaweed."

The immortal shrugged as she stared at her husband and son. "I guess I’m going to have to disapoint Charlie."

"I had to disappoint my children," M’Ling told her. "Some of the people who tried to explore the place in the past have drowned. It’s too dangerous."

Julia slipped her visor back on. "I didn’t mean for the rest of the week. I wanted to know what you were doing this afternoon?"

"Plan’s for this afternoon?" Demona blinked. "We don’t really have any."

"Why don’t you come to tonight’s barbecue."

"Barbecue?" she raised an auburn eyebrow.

"The Faustine’s have invited us," M’ling said.

"You have to come to the barbecue," Julia added before pulling out another Nestea out of the cooler. "My husband grills the best burger in the world."

"The burgers do sound tempting," Dominique answered. "But how long will it last? Charlie has a strict bed time at eight and before that he has to have a bath."

"Craig likes to start barbecuing around four. Plenty of time, and you don’t have to worry about the meat. We have chicken, hamburgers and hot dogs. We’ll also provide the refreshments and have plenty of baked beans."

"We are going to bring the potatoes," M’ling added. "And the macaroni salad and a cake."

"I guess we could bring some corn," Dominique chewed her bottom lip. "If our husbands could grill it-"

"Oh yes," Julia blurted out. "Grilled corn is the best."

"We could also pick up a watermelon and bring a few bags of chips." She held up her soda can and watched as a bead of perspiration slid down the surface and rained down into the sand..

She wondered if it would be a good idea for her to attend a barbecue. She would be surroudned by humans and engaging in a human social activity, but she reminded herself she was on vacation and it would be good for Charlie.

_________________________________________________________________________

"Just put those right there," Craig’s said as he pointed as the second half of his two part grill. The flames were dancing over the charcoal, providing plenty of heat and smoke for the potatoes wrapped in sliver foil and placed on the coals and the meat on the other half.

"This is one nice grill," Matt complimented as he placed the ears of corn, still wrapped in their bright green husks on the barbecue. The second half was occupied with smoking patties of seasoned ground beef and blistering hot dogs. He paused to inhale the aroma of the cooking meat "I love the aroma of hamburgers cooked on a charcoal grill."

"You see?" Craig asked as he turned to Ned. The younger man was nursing a bottle of Budweiser. "A lot of people prefer real grills to propane." The men had exchanged their swim wear for shorts and short sleeves shirts. Craig wore a pale yellow apron with the words "Born to Grill" stitched in red over an image of a baby dressed in an apron and chef’s hat, holding onto a spatula.

"I was just saying they cook the meat faster." Campbell shrugged.

"Faster grilling," Craig rolled his eyes. "Grilling is not about cooking faster. Faster cooking disrupts the Zen, watching the burgers darken and the hot dogs form golden blotchy blisters and split. It’s about watching the smoke dance over the meat, the sound of it sizzling, about waitingfor the grill to become hot enough while you enjoy a beer."

"Smells good," Matt said as he watched the women set up the buffet table. Dominique was placing a large green water melon they selected earlier at the store onto the table without much effort. The sight of his mate’s muscles becoming more visual as she lifted the watermellon brought a smile to the detective’s face. He continuied to watch as his wife helped M’ling with the salad and beans while carefully avoiding Charlie and Mikey as they raced from Regina. The blond girl was it in their game of tag.

"Hope you have brought your appetite. Once they are all cooked we got chicken to grill. Julia is painting on the sauce. I should ask her to melt some butter." He turned towards their house. "Julia!"

His wife stuck her head out the window. She had long ditched the visor that was apparently covering her head, "The chickens are ready."

"That is good. Could you melt some butter into a bowl?"

"Why?"

"I want to recreate that at the fair taste, grilled in the husk, dipped in butter and sprinkled with salt."

"We don’t have enough butter to put into a bowl and melt. We are going to dab it onto the corn."

"That’s a shame. How does your family like their burgers grilled, Bluestone?"

"Dominique likes it rare," Matt answered. "Charlie and I like it medium rare."

"Your wife has excellent taste," Campbell wiped his hand agaisnt his mouth and handed Bluestone a bottle of the same beverage. "I’m a rare man myself."

"We can give her the good news the soup is on." Craig used the turing fork to spear a few burgers and placed them on the clean plate he had set on the nearbye stool.

__________________________________________________________________________

It was just down to two kids left. Two kids who did not have their hands on the Igloo cooler, serving as the safety zone for the game. Charlie’s bright, green eyes rested on the kids gathered around the safety zone: Regina, Drew, and Mikey. Only Tyler and Tiffany were left.

A sudden sound brought his focus to the left where he saw Tyler racing out. He knew he could never catch the older boy and wondered why Tyler had raced out like that. It was probably a decoy to have Tiffany race to the safety without being noticed. It was a clever decoy, but he knew what it was.

He ran out a few feet before turning around and racing back towards the cooler. Tiffany was only halfway there and he had to increase in speed to try to catch up. Her fingers were inches away from grasping onto the cooler when he jumped and spread his hand, his fingers brushed against her shoulder, tagging her, and making her the next It.

"Tiffany is it!" Tyler called as he approached the cooler. "You know what to do."

"I know," Tiffany mumbled as she approached the safe and stood in front of it. "Ready and count! One , two. three, four.." she counted out the steps the other children took, distancing themselves from her. "Ten. Ready and go!" She ran the second she finished her sentence, trying to chase after the nearest child.

Charlie circled around the beach, keeping close to the fence, separating his property and the Faustine’s, and raced back to the cooler. His hands struck the top of the cooler with a thumb as he leaned against it, trying to catch his breath.

"Did you make it to the base?" Dominique asked as she removed the lid to retrieve a can of diet Dr. Pepper, floating amongst the ice and water. "Good job." She closed the lid in time for Tyler to race up and tag onto the surface, protecting him from becoming the next it.

"If she tags Drew then I’m going to let him tag me," Tyler said the said he caught his breath.

"Why?" Charlie asked.

"Because he’s the youngest, unless you count Tanna, and she’s too young to play."

"That’s nice."

"Yeah," Tyler smiled revealing a moutful of braces. His round hazel eyes watched the men as they continued to talk around the grill and the women who were setting up paper plates and cups. "Can you keep a secret?"

"I can keep a lot. I’m still keeping some."

"Oh really?" Tyler wiggled his eyebrows.

"I can’t tell you because they are secrets."

"You are smart kid. What are you going to do when it gets dark?"

The question seemed to come out of nowhere, surprising the young weregoyle. "I go to bed?"

"You don’t have any real plans?"

"I have to take a bath and go to bed."

"Don’t you wanna have some real fun?" Tyler raises his eyebrows repeatedly.

"Like what?"

"You know that island?" Tyler pointed at the distant rock that appeared to be floating above the waves. "There is a cave inside it. the other kids and I are going to the cave. We are going to tell the adults we are going to look at stars or something."

"I can’t go."

"Why not? you aren’t to scared?" He stepped aside to allow Regina to tag the base. "Or are you too young like Drew?"

"I’m not allowed out after dark."

"Hey that is cool," Tyler shrugged. "That is Drew’s reason."

"You are telling him about the trip to the cave?" Regina asked.

The older boy gave Charlie’s hand a friendly squeeze. "Charlie isn’t going to be a rat and tell on us. Are you Charlie?"

"Nuh Uh," the red head shook his head.

"Soups’ on kids!" Craig Faustine shouted, holding up a palte of the cooked meat. "Grab a plate and get ready."

Charlie followed the older children as they grabbed paper plates from the stack and walked in a line by the table. Both Mrs. Campbell and his mother ladeled on spoonfuls of baked beans and creamy white macaroni salad. Charlie grabbed a hamburger bun from the bag and stood in front of the grill.

"You are going to have to get your own ketchup," Matt said as Mr. Faustine placed a grilled piece of meat onto his open bun. His eyebrows raised when Charlie did not say a word. "What is wrong? You are not talking to me all of the sudden?"

Charlie just shrugged and glanced over to where Tyler was squirting mustard and ketchup on to his hot dog. "Can’t talk." He took his food to the picnic table, finding a place to sit next to Mikey.

The blond boy had chosen a hot dog over a hamburger. He also had beans and salad but he also had a potato and ear of corn, both dripping in butter.

"Charlie!" Matt called out. "You forgot the rest of your food." He pointed at he second grill with another fork and placed an ear of corn on Tyler’s plate."

"You are making us look suspicious," Regina said as she placed her plate down on the other side of Mikey’s plate. "Mikey watch my plate. Charlie come with me." She lead the red-haired boy back to the grill and waited until Matt placed a foiled wrapped potato and a ear of corn next to his burger.

"Becareful. They are both hot," his father cautioned. "Ask your mother to peel back your corn and the foil."

The blond girl lead stayed with Charlie while both their mothers helped him with his grilled vegtables. She squirted  ketchup and mustard on his burger and placed dollups of butter on his corn and potato.

"Do you want salt on your corn? some sourcream and bacon bits on your potato? What about the green sprinkles?"

Charlie just continued to nodd at her suggestions and didn’t stop until she lead him back to the kiddie table where the others were getting ready to eat.

The weregoyle child sank his teeth into his burger the second he sat down. He did not want to talk, especially not about the secret trip the other kids were planning on taking.

"You told Charlie?" Tiffy asked. "Is he coming?"

"He’s not coming," Tyler grabed a paper napkin from the stack in the middle of the table. "I told him because I told Drew."

"Is he going to tell?"

"Of course not," Regina scoffed. "He’s not talking to anybody." She used a plastic fork to scoop some macaroni salad into her mouth.

"Isn’t it dangerous?" Charlie finally spoke up. "My mother said people drowned." He relfected back to the conversation his parents had with him while htey were shopping for the food they brought over. His mother explained to him why they couldn’t go to the island, at least during the day time.

"That is why we are going to be extra careful," Tyler told him. "We are going to bring plenty of flashlights, rope, and wear grippy shoes."

Charlie wasn’t sure what he meant by grippy shoes. "How are you going to get there?"

"My dad brought a boat," Tyler explained.

With his question answered Charlie did not have much else to say. There was going to be no way for the other children to sneak out, and teka the boat wihtout beeing caught. he did not have to worry too much about their safety. He only complimented on the food and repeated his agreement when one of the other children asked if he would keep it a secret.

__________________________________________________________________________

The tangy scent of the ocean was even more powerful to Charlie’s nostrils at night. The azure hatchling inhaled the cool breeze as he sat on the roof of the beach house. The wooden shingles felt different to his skin than the stone roof of the castle, slightly more rougher, but not to the point that would cause him discomfort.

He had climbed to the roof from his bedroom window. There was not much for him to do once they had returned from the barbecue. His stomach was full and he was not sleepy .They could get a few local stations on the television, but there wasn’t anything he wanted to see and his parents didn’t bring along a VCR, meaning they could not rent a few movies. He brought a few toys and books, but he was not interested in either reading, or playing. There was too much on his mind.

Charlie wondered if it was because of what Tyler and the others were doing. He promised he wasn’t going to tell any of the adults, but a tiny part of him deep in his gut wondered if he hadn’t done the right thing. If he had mentioned the trip to the small island to his parents and asked them to promise not to tell that he told would the others have seen him as a rat? He couldn’t help worrying about them. What if one of the kids got hurt or if there were rabid bats in the small cave and they attacked the children?

None of it sat well with him, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Not when he was a gargoyle. He didn’t know if his new friends had seen the news footage that exposed the clan to the world. He could at least watch over them, make sure they only explored the cave and returned home safely.

He stood up to his full height, his talons gripping onto the shingles as his wings stretched out. The sea provided plenty of breezes for him to glide on and he didn’t have to wait long for one to curl under his wings and push against the leather like webbing. Once he was in the air he beelind straight for the island cave, making sure he was high enough so he wouldn’t be noticed by anyone.

The island was bigger than he thought, larger than the house his family was temporarily living in. The cave did not look like a dot but a large dark mouth of a jack-o-lantern, the uneven lips with a few jagged teeth hanging down. It needed a large candle to make it light up, or possibly several flashlights. There were no golden beams hinging inside the cave and Charlie wondered if the kids did manage to sneak out.

Sharp screams cut through his ear drums and directed his attention to the shoreline of the isle. The children had gathered at the edge. The wooden row boat was tied securely but they were still staring out at the dark waves, pointing with their fingers and flash lights. Even without a light of his own Charlie could see what had caught their attention. One of the children had fallen into the water and was being dragged out to sea. He couldn’t tell, but he was sure it was Mikey.

As he neared the figure flailing about, struggling to swim, he could make out the golden hair of one of the Faustine children. The scream’s coming from the child’s mouth were not Regina’s. He was right about it being Mikey.

Keeping out of view was the least of his concerns. He dove down, aiming straight for the flailing arms and bobbing head, hoping he or she would still be conscious and able to hold on to him. He grabbed onto a slippery arm first, getting a good grip before he tried to grab onto the other arm.

Mikey lashed out and grabbed Charlie by the shoulder. He tried to pull the weregoyle down closer to him, but Charlie was too strong for him. The azure child lifted his wings higher, trying to maintain control of the air curents under his wings. He pulled up a few inches higher, wrenching his shoulder form Mikeys struggling grasp while pulling the other child up with him by the wrist. He quickly latched onto Mikey’s other limb before the blond child could lash at him again.

With the child securely in his arms Charlie pulled his wings back, allowing the sea breezes to carry him higher into the air and pulled drew closer to his chest. The human was still wiggling, trying to thrash. Charlie wasn’t sure if it was because he was afraid of him or not.

"Don’t be scared Mikey," Charlie spoke as softly as he could as he glided towards the shore. Both the bottoms of Mikeys feet and the end of his tail were touching the water. "It’s me Charlie."

"Ma, ma, ma." The human child mumbled, no longer screaming, but mumbling.

Charlie wasn’t sure if he was crying for his mother, or fumbling to get his tongue to work. "Mikey, Mikey, Mikey." He continued to repeat the child’s name only stopping when Mikey called to him.

"Charlie?"

"It’s me," the weregoyle said as he landed them both on the soft and damp sand. His wings ached and his eyes burned from the saltwater striking his eyes.

"You can fly?"

"I can glide," Charlie set him down first, before landing next to him.

Mikey coughed, trying to spit up the bit of sea water he had swallowed while his tears washed away the burning salt from his eyes. "Charlie?" He stared up at his rescuer and nearly fell over. The creature that stood before him sounded like his friend and looked a little like his friend, but the Charlie he knew did not have light blue skin, or bat shaped wings or long horns, or a tail. His feet were not as large as the creature in front of him, nor did they have a high arch and he had five toes.

"You shouldn’t have gone out. You should have stayed with your parents."

"What are you?"

"Micheal!" The high pitched voice of Drew’s mother made Charlie forget what he was going to say next. "Tyler, Regina!"

"Mama?" Mikey turned around.

"Tiffany!" Mrs. Campbell’’s voice joined Mrs.’s Faustine’s.

Charlie could make out the four adults as they approached them. They were getting too close for him. "I have to go. Tell your mommy about the others." Charlie spun around in his tracks and ran across the sand towards his house.

_________________________________________________________________________

He wanted to watch Mikey as he raced to his mother’s embrace and he wanted to see if Tyler and the rest of the children returned in the canoe, or if their parents had taken out other boats to the waves to rescue them, but he couldn’t, not without exposing what he was at night. His mother told him they would attack him and think he was a monster. He didn’t want to scare his friends, nor did he want to scare their parents.

He slowly backed up to the door, his eyes still glued onto the house next door and the beach. He glanced casually to the island. A long dark shape was skimming over it, heading towards the beach in front of the Faustine house.

His focus was so intent on the ocean and island, he did not notice a pair of golden hands reach out and grab him. Charlie’s screams dissolved into growls as he turned around and stared at whoever or whatever grabbed him with glowing eyes. The light dissipated when he saw his father standing behind him.

"What were you doing outside?" Matt’s voice had a trace of a growl as his own eyes were opaque. "Did I not order you to stay in your room? You want to give your mother or me a heart attack?"

"I didn’t mean it," Charlie said.

"Not another word," Matt pointed at the house. "Inside, now!" His nostrils twitched as his son stepped past him. The hatchling’s loincloth was saturated with sea water. Matt did not want to say another word to his son until they were both inside.

Charlie stared up at the small kitchen table, expecting to see his mother sitting their and waiting to give him a stern lecture, but to his relief she wasn’t there.

"You are very lucky your mother isn’t here, young man. Do you know how dangerous it is to be out there?"

"I’m sorry, but-"

"I can’t believe you were going swimming outside at night. The water is too dangerous when it’s dark, not too mention you are not a very good swimmer, and what if you were seen?"

"Only Mikey saw me," Charlie folded his wings in front of his body, trying to shield him.

"Only Mikey?" Matt blinked, the white radience leaving his eyes. "What was Mikey doing out there?"

"He and the other kids went to the island with the cave. They wanted to explore, and Mikey must have fell into the ocean."

"Oh man," Matt rubbed the top of his head. "You left the house because Mikey was in trouble?"

Charlie shook his head. "I thought one of them might have been in trouble."

"How would you know they were going to the island?"

"Tyler invited me to go with them, but I told him no, and he made me promise not to tell."

"This was why you were quiet through out the evening. Charlie, those kids could have been hurt or dead. Why didn’t you tell me?"

"I’m sorry," the tears rolled down his cheeks. "They made me promise and I didn’t want to be a tattle tell."

The event unfolded in Matt’s mind. Charlie new about the children’s planned excursion and glided after them to watch over them. When Mikey fell into the water hi son glided down and rescued him.

"Charlie, in cases where someone’s life could be in danger you are supposed to tell an adult. I want you to go to your room." He watched as his son wiped away the last of his tears as he walked back to his room. Matt sighed and approached the phone. He didn’t expect either the Campbell’ or the Faustine’s to be home, but he was going to call them until someone picked up. He had to tell them Charlie knew what the children had planned and planned on apologising.

________________________________________________________________________

The slim brown worm tried to slip out of Alex’s fingers, both ends wiggling wildly. The seven year old stared at his grandfather’s choice of bait while holding up the fish hook with his other hand, careful not to rip it from the fishing line.

"Easy does it," Petros said as he held out another worm in front of Alex. "You want to be careful when you bait your hook. You want to get it in the middle of the worm, but you don’t want to completely stab the entire middle. "Try to hook it a bit under it’s skin." He brought the hook from his fishing pole closer to his worm and carefully slid the sharp point of the hook under, and through the flesh. The worm continued to thrust back and forth.

"Are you sure he is old enough to hook it himself?" Fox Xanatos asked form her deck chair. The day after they had returned from St. Austine they took the McCormick’s sail boat out to sea.

"He is old enough," Petros gently rubbed the top of his grandson’s head. "David was five when he put the worm on the hook for the first time." He stared at his son who was tanning next to Henry behind the wheel. "You should be teaching him this."

"Nonsense, pop," David briefly turned towards his father. "You are doing just fine."

"You are disrupting a tradition. My grand father taught my father how to fish. My father taught me how to fish, and I taught you. You are supposed to teach your own son."

"You and Grandpa were both fishermen. I’m not."

"And I will never let you forget it." Petros raised a finger. "You could at least try to enjoy fishing for once in your life."

"It isn’t his life," Fox said as she peeked from the top of her novel. "Right now talking with Henry is his life. They are discussing the up coming council and they are talking about how to set up the Network for the St. Augustine clan." She was greeted with the good news when she woke up and stumbled, zombie like, to the shower. One of the guards had called Whitney’s house the morning after their visit with the news the clan had voted. Nearly everyone agreed to be part of the Network.

He turned back to his grandson who had just pierced the bait, the sharp point had entered close to the head than the middle but he had managed to slip it onto the hook.

"Like this?" Alex asked.

"Exactly like that," Petros gave his head a light gentle pat. "It is a little close to the head, but it is good for your first try. Now let me show you how to cast your line."

"Is it like the fishing game I played last Halloween?" Alex asked. "I toss with my wrist and the worm and hook goes into the water?"

"Fishing is not a game. It is a life." He firmly held not the base of the fishing pole and careful brought his arm back. With a quick toss he sent the line forward, whizzing through the air before it broke through the rippling surface of the sea.

Alex swung his pole back like his grandfather and quickly tossed it forward. The hook and worm was tossed high into the air before it plunked down into the water, inches behind his grandfather’s.

"All right Alex," Fox set her novel down on to her lap to applaud.

"That was an excellent cast off. Now you release a little more line like this." He spun the reel, releasing a little more line.

"Like this?" Alex cranked his reel around twice before checking with his grandfather.

"That is good." He turned around to see his son still talking with Henry. "You didn’t even watch your son cast off. Can you take a break from business to watch him?"

"Watch him?" Xanatos asked. "I’ll watch him when he gets a tug on the line."

"You are an ungrateful brat!"

"Let me punish him," Fox placed her book onto the chair and approached her husband. She stood on her toes to whisper into his ear and walked back to her seat.

"I guess I could take a small break," David said while stretching his arms. "Any bites?"

Petros raised his eyebrows at his son before staring at Fox. "What did you do?"

She lowered her sunglasses while pulling her mouth into a smirk that would make her husband jealous. "I have my ways." She retrieved her book.

"Maybe I don’t want to know," the older Xanatos said as returned his focus back to his fishing pole.

"Grandpa," Alex felt something pull on his line.

"Reel it backwards," Petros instructed, he could not believe how fast his grandson had already gotten a bite, but he knew sometimes a person would catch a fish instantly while at other times it would take several hours.

"You wind and I’ll hold it," David grabbed onto the fishing pole. He held the other end steady while his son turned the crank of the reel in the opposite direction than when he cast the line.

Alex spun the wheel back as fast as he could while listening to his grandfather shout at how it was going to be big. His aqua hued eyes doubled in size when he hauled a large silvery blue fish out of the water. The fish’s tail kept thrashing back and forth, spraying droplets of water, while it’s scales reflected the light of the sun.

"Henry grab the camera!" Xanatos said as soon as fish was hauled into the boat and began to flop around on the deck.

"I’m right on it," McCormick shouted. He scrambled around searching for one of the disposable cameras they had brought along with them.

"That has got to be at least three feet," Fox said.

"Probably two and a half," Petros gave the fish a good look over, examining it with a more accurate eye while still not letting go of his own pole.

Alex waited until the fish stopped bouncing around before he raised the pole and set the base down. He held onto the fishing line, almost appearing as if he was posing. "I’m supposed to stand like this?"

"Just like that?" McCormick said as he lined both the child and his catch into the window and pressed the shutter button.

__________________________________________________________________________

Matt didn’t know why he was exiting the back door to the beach that morning after breakfast. He wsn’t in the mood to jog on the beach, nor was he in the mood to stare at the ocean.

The only thing he stared at was the Faustine’s. He still felt a twinge of guilt about the night before.

He wasn’t the only one outside of their home. Julia Faustine was standing on the small pattio staraing at th sea wth her coffee cup in hand. The steam from the warm brew was wafting up towards the sky.

"Detective Bluestone," she noticed Matt when she turned towards him.

"I’m sorry about last night," Matt approached the fence. "If Charlie had told me sooner I would have told you.

"Kids tend to stick together and honor their secrets," Julia said as she approached the fence to speak with him. "Don’t blame your selves. The children are fine."

"What about Mikey?"

"He’s going to be okay. We took him to a small twentyfour hour clinic. They told us he hadn’t suffered from any permanet damage, nor did he suffer from any shock. All he needed was a warm bath and a cup of cocoa."

"Thank God he was rescued."

She nodded. "Are you a religious man, Mr Bluestone?"

"I read the Torah and pray every now and then."

"Do you believe in angels?"

"I am pretty sure they exist. Why?"

"After Mikey fell into the water the other children swore they saw something fly down and pick him up. Mikey was certain he was rescued by a blue angel. I’m pretty certain God answered the prayers of those children and us last night."

"Thank God for angels," Matt agreed as he stared at his house. He couldn’t stay mad at his son any longer. Charlie would remain grounded for only one day.