Flashbacks #-1: "Nine Months"

"These wretched babies don't come until they are ready." - Queen Elizabeth

First Month - February, 2000

Who knew unapologetically unadulterated and unprotected sex on the shores of a private island could lead to this?

Elisa was beyond stunned, and basically beyond anything that resembled feeling in her body. She was numb, and nearly forgot she was still holding the pregnancy test in her hand, the stick she'd peed on, now pink, and positive, and absolute.

Beth, having gone to fetch the test from the closest pharmacy, waited while her older sister did her business in the bathroom and watched as Elisa opened the door and slowly drudged out, merely leaned forward and kept her eyes on her. She expected words, a sound maybe, breathing...but nothing. Elisa was completely motionless.

"So, are you...?"

The breath wasn't there to convey the words, until her lungs unlocked. "The stick turned pink." she whispered.

Beth scanned the instructions. "Holy shit! You're gonna have a baby!!!"

Her sister had already wrapped herself around her body, half-crying and babbling something about being an aunt and feeling old, but Elisa only heard white noise, like television static or the gentle roll of waves at the beach. Maybe this was the precursor to a stroke. "I'm going...to be a mother...Goliath and I are going to have a baby."

From there on out it was a blur she could hardly remember sometimes when looking back on the moment she learned she'd done been knocked up; Goliath walking in, breaking the news to him, seeing the seven hundred pound gargoyle go limp and nearly collapse on top of the Maza sisters, his pride and pleasure when coming to and finally, Angela's bone-crushing bearhug when she learned of the impending birth.

The clan's reaction was mercifully in the positive, though her parents had to warm to the idea of their daughter conceiving with a gargoyle (complete with a lecture on birth control). The news of looming motherhood may have numbed her but Elisa got all the feeling back when Xanatos caught wind and dangerously toyed with a hormonally-charged detective.

A cautious, skirting conversation took place with Xanatos graciously offering all of his far-reaching resources to the couple. Elisa gritted her teeth, and with Goliath's encouragement, was skeptical and cynical all the same, but generally accepting of gifts she'd rather shove down the man's throat.

And thus, with a slew of murderous thoughts, the journey into motherhood had begun.

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Second Month - March

She hated him.

As much as he'd ingratiated himself to the couple and especially Elisa, a cold shiver went up her neck whenever they were in the same room together. His smarmy grin, his infuriating all-knowing attitude and the fact she was actually beginning to appreciate whatever amenities David Xanatos was graciously bestowing upon them.

Their new room was damn-near as large as her entire apartment. Certainly the bathroom was, and having already melted into the comfort of her Jacuzzi tub and sauna, ever going back to a simple Manhattan loft would be like cutting off her own arm. But it was the smaller addition that fed her disgust and disinclined admiration for the man, a corner room off the main suite and just enough space for a crib, shelves and other paraphernalia suited to her present condition.

Elisa had asked herself the same question the last eight weeks: how did he know? Or did he at all, and just covered his bets with plans A through G.

He'd even gone so far as to sign over Wyvern's deed to Goliath (of course, there was no legal means to actually claim ownership if it ever came to such a dispute but the gesture she assumed was more symbolic than literal) just to get her to move in.

Sycophantic bastard...

"Elisa."

"Hmm?" she reacted, her concentration still faraway.

"The paint is drying."

She shook out of her reverie, heavy thoughts become bare wisps and dissolved to reality and Elisa remembered the roller in her right hand. She'd drifted away in the middle of painting the baby's room. "Oh."

Goliath, resigned to doing the upper half of the walls due to his height, smiled and refreshed the paint on his own roller. "I can finish the room myself if you're not feeling well..."

"No, no, it's all right. I was just...thinking..."

"You seem to be doing that a lot."

Elisa pressed the roller to the stone wall and laid down another fat line of color. She and her husband had chosen a pale blue to coat the granite-gray walls, leaving an open canvas for further artistic inspiration. The decision to paint their baby's room was done with great hesitation; Elisa didn't quite want to jinx the pregnancy with over-anticipation but whenever her eyes passed over that room, she couldn't keep well enough alone. "There's a lot to think about."

He gathered more from the subdued tone than from Elisa's evasiveness, and stowed his roller in the tray. He noticed Elisa was going over the same spot again and again; obviously she was absentmindedly obsessing over something, mind and body temporarily separated. "Are your thoughts perhaps centered on last night?"

It was a natural segue from one thought to the next, Xanatos to the doctor he'd provided, and Elisa had to admit her attention had strayed to the first appointment she and Goliath had last night. "This new doctor knows how to make an impression."

"Yes," Goliath nodded, "though I believe he could have used more discretion, his concerns are very valid."

"Goliath, he damned near made me cry."

"Your aversion to doctors notwithstanding, he was right to give us his professional opinion."

"I know. I just didn't think it would hit me as hard as it did..."

"Hormones?"

"Hormones."

He made a sound through his throat. He'd be lying if everything the doctor had warned them about didn't cross his mind on a nightly basis. "It was disconcerting, but only because it is everything I myself have feared."

Elisa looked up at him. "Yeah, so do I."

She remembered the elevator ride down, she and Goliath huddled silently in the middle of the cab with nothing to fill the void but the dulcet tones of the muzak being pumped through the speakers. It just after sunset and the couple had been summoned to the Eyrie building's infirmary for their meeting with the doctor their generous benefactor had provided, and her husband could sense her anxiety, but it wasn't difficult with an infrequent shiver passing through her. The elevator arrived, opened the doors and they followed the corridor until Elisa turned to face the door.

Glancing behind her, she wondered what this man's reaction would be to her husband. Gargoyles were so common-nature to her now she was hard-pressed to remember her own initial reaction (of course, there was as much enthrallment as there was fear). "Here goes, Big Guy." she said and opened the door.

The hospital was surprisingly empty; she figured she would find Xanatos front and center if only to compound her discomfort but he'd the good sense to be conspicuously absent. While Goliath remained by the doorway, Elisa wandered farther in and around the corner towards the adjoining office. There, amidst what would soon become the aftermath of no known filing system recognized by man, she saw the mop of silver-dappled dark hair.

Elisa's first impression of the man who'd be performing tests probably as intimate as her gynecologist or her own husband was that of a hippie who refused to leave the 60's and 70's behind. "Great..." she muttered.

On hearing the voice the man turned around, and smiled. He drew a bit of the unkempt hair from his eyes and looked harmless enough, though Elisa was expecting someone of his competence and supposed credentials to appear a little more polished than someone who just rolled out of bed. Still unsure of what to make of him considering his labcoat had yellowed slightly from age (complete with a few mystery stains), he started towards her with a hand extended.

"You must be Elisa Maza."

She took his hand, and studied every mannerism; to some extent she'd become overly suspicious of anyone even remotely associated with her gargoyles. "Yeah." she said warily.

"I'm Alan Pierce. I'm glad to meet you, both of you."

"Me too."

"Well," he said, holding a clipboard in front of him, "I have to tell you I'm incredibly proud I was chosen to be a part of this."

"I actually had nothing to do with it." Elisa shrugged. "It was Xanatos."

"Yes, he did mention you're still mildly angry with him, considering your history."

Those brown eyes stirred, brightened at the edges and narrowed. "And what exactly did he tell you?"

Pierce intuited the animosity, considering Elisa was channeling every dark feeling she had about the man through her gaze, mouth, stance and tone. "I assure you, it was all in the positive."

"With his particular spin, I'm sure."

"Actually it was that Owen Burnett fellow's particular spin. Regardless, I'm here in a professional capacity to help you."

"So, you're okay with it?"

"With what?"

"The fact that the father isn't human."

This was the test, and Elisa had set him up in true detective fashion to watch him squirm under the proverbial bright light (and deftly maneuvered him to put his back against the office's door).

He took a breath, and chose the next words very carefully. "When David Xanatos first approached me, I was...understandably shocked, like any normal human would be mind you," he made a point of saying, "but I believe I'm 'okay'. Love is...love."

"Good, because my husband's right behind you."

She expressly remembered the moment the doctor turned to face a set of lavender pectorals and nearly swallowed his own tongue. The expression he made as his gaze slowly ascended towards Goliath's shoulders and head was priceless, but Pierce took it surprisingly well.

His first encounter with a gargoyle had gone without much uproar, but she'd figured somewhere deep and down inside his brain a fuse had blown and sometime later he'd react in typical human fashion. But he seemed more curious than frightened, more interested in a new species than preparing himself to scream like a little girl.

"Oh..." he said, simply. "Hello. T-The video footage doesn't do you j-justice..."

"Doctor Pierce," Goliath greeted him with a warrior's handshake, the doctor slightly taken aback when Goliath's taloned hand swallowed most of his forearm, "it is a pleasure to meet you."

"S-Same here...ah, well, I believe Mr. Xanatos wasn't exaggerating his claim..."

Elisa, from where she was seated on the examination table, watched as the doctor pulled his arm away and instinctively inspected for damage. "No, he wasn't. We were somewhat resistant to bringing in someone we might not be able to trust, but Xanatos assures us you can keep a secret."

"I can, and will, you can be certain of that."

"Good, because if you don't, I'll have my husband here remove your head from your neck."

Pierce met Goliath's eyes, one pair wide, the other thinned and literally dissecting the good doctor if he indeed had any designs on betrayal. He heard what sounded like crinkling paper, then realized it was Goliath's forearm flexing. "Point taken." He loosened his collar with a few fingers, and along with the higher salary he now had a healthy dose of fear to keep him quiet. "But don't worry, my confidentiality is a hundred percent, especially with my first advance paycheck."

"Of course." Elisa smirked.

"It's not about money, it's the opportunity of a lifetime." He got a dreamy look in his eyes, and one could almost see exactly when his thoughts started wandering. "Another sentient species, living among humans for millions of years..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she hurried him along through the initial shock, panic, etc of meeting a gargoyle for the first time, "now, can we get to the point?"

"Oh, right. Your pregnancy."

Goliath sensed the downward tone, and didn't like the abrupt change in demeanor. "You seem concerned."

"I am." he sighed, lowering his brows. "I'll be frank. This should not be happening. From a scientific and medical point of view, it's impossible."

"And yet, we've somehow defied the odds." Elisa responded.

"And then some, which means humans and gargoyles may have closer genetic ties than we ever expected. But you're still different species, and your child is a fusion of DNA that may not completely mix."

"Which means there're going to be complications."

"To be honest, I didn't think it would last this long." he confessed, and immediately felt the heat of Goliath's piercing gaze on him. But he carried on, never one to betray his ethics as a doctor under the threat of a sound pummeling. "Elisa, this pregnancy carries an incredibly high risk. Despite the danger to you personally, you could suffer a miscarriage, the baby could die in utero, be stillborn and even if it makes it to term, could suffer from severe physical and mental–"

Elisa quickly turned away and into Goliath's arm, and Pierce realized he'd rambled on a might too far for his new patient's liking. It was rare for anyone to find a chink in her armor but the doctor had forced it wide open with an onslaught of gruesome scenarios thrown out fast and furious. She breathed deeply and found her eyes were welling with tears, and she willed the emotional outburst away.

Hormones, she figured. She'd seen and heard worse in her time on the beat and never reacted like this.

Pierce wasn't a stranger to giving bad news to a patient or their family, but all the same he knew the damage he'd inflicted on this woman by offering her something as simple as the truth. "I'm sorry." he offered.

But Elisa waved off the apology. "I know," she whispered from the crook of her husband's arm, "and...I appreciate your honesty."

"There has to be something we can do to help this child." Goliath cut in.

"Best thing we can do is make sure Elisa remains healthy and give that baby the best chance possible. But frankly, it's not up to us whether or not the baby survives to birth." He started leafing through the clipboard he'd been holding onto throughout the entire conversation. "From what little Xanatos has been able to gather about your species, it seems there is a definite primordial relation to humanity. I'll need to do complete physical work-ups on both you and Elisa and...he mentioned others like yourself?"

"My clan, yes."

"Them too." Then, he wondered, and posed a question among a few hundred his mind had cooked up during the entire conversation. "Ah, how many of there are you?"

"At present, fifteen."

His jaw went slack. "Fifteen?"

"In our clan, yes, but there is at least a dozen more clans around the world."

"Huh...you know, this would make a great book. From a medical standpoint, of course."

"Of course."

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Third Month - April

"Well, it's tied to their genetic code. This stone sleep is likely controlled by the pituitary gland and that small electrical charge we measured just before sunrise. Yuh huh. Yuh huh. Yuh...huh. Well, it's an interesting theory, but not supported by the fact...what? Well, yes, I can see that..."

Elisa could hear Pierce's voice from the hall as soon as she stepped out from the elevator. From what she could tell it was a severely one-sided conversation with no one in particular. Of course it didn't surprise her; she'd known him long enough to know he would often speak his thoughts aloud even when alone, if only to put them all in order before they were lost in that dusty storage bin the man called a brain.

"Well, yes, the blood type seems to be the determining factor. From this clan alone I've identified five separate types which I've personally christened V, W, X, Y, and Z respectively."

Elisa stood at the doorway, forced to squint, not quite used to seeing this part of the castle during the day. White walls and tiles picked up the brilliance like mirrors, with an intensity that shot right through her retinas and she had to shield her eyes for a moment before blinking to adjust.

It wasn't until Pierce actually turned around when he noticed her standing there. "Oh. Trishia, I have to go. I've got an appointment with our lead protagonist. Okay, okay, I'll e-mail you the results."

"You do realize," Elisa started, "that this book can never be published?"

Pierce snapped the cellphone shut and straightened up. "Well, maybe not now, but hopefully by the time it's finished, things will be a little different."

"Here's hoping, but you'll excuse me if I don't hold my breath."

As Elisa wandered in, Pierce expected her lavender shadow to appear just behind, preceded by objects trembling on his shelves with every step. "No Goliath?"

"He's sleeping."

Realization came grim-faced. For all his knowledge of the gargoyle race he'd absorbed the last month, the more unusual traits were often lost against his human-centric mind-set. "Right, I keep forgetting."

She chalked it up to the absentmindedness like a form of adult ADD, the good doctor on so many different tangents he was being pulled apart. "Well, this is the last time I'll report for duty when the sun is shining." she said.

"You're right," he nodded, "I'm sorry, but it's hard to adjust to your hours."

"I thought doctor's hours were as religiously nocturnal as my own, especially those at Manhattan General."

"I saw the sun at least a few hours a day." He rolled back a sleeve and bared his forearm. "Look, I'm already getting pale."

"You were that color when I met you." she countered. Indeed, he did appear as if he'd never got a lick of light for a few years now. It probably had something to do with his seldom-mentioned divorce (gleaned from his records); work became his life. "And I suspect, from the amount of time you're in that tiny office, pouring over gargoyle blood smears, poorly-written notes and any other information you've collected from your examinations, that you usually only see the sun through slatted blinds when you're trying to sleep."

She was definitely a detective, and he'd a feeling that her precinct would suffer from her loss while she took maternity leave. "Touché." he was forced to answer, and with her broaching the subject of his recent examinations took the opportunity to voice a complaint. "Oh, and by the way, you can tell Othello that everything during his exam was completely necessary and growling at me while I took a blood sample is just plain rude."

Elisa chuckled, imagining Goliath's dusky blue rookery brother looking more like a pincushion than a tenth century warrior. "Well, chalk that up to the fact you poked and prodded at his body for three hours, after you'd just performed a rather thorough exam on his mate."

"Hey! I'm a doctor and I'm a professional. She was the one who offered, and frankly, she got naked a little quickly."

"Gargoyles aren't as self-conscious as humans when it comes to nudity."

"Well, you can assure your clan that I appreciate their time and help."

"For your book."

"Right. What?" He was caught. "No. No, no, no, for my better understanding and their safety." This particular turn in the conversation was going to end with a dead-end and he figured he'd better bail out before he was branded as someone with less than the best of intentions. "You know what? Maybe its good Goliath isn't here, or any gargoyle for that matter; the less threat of bodily harm the better."

"He's just very protective." Elisa did a wistful swirl over her belly with a few fingers. "Now more than ever."

"No kidding..." he agreed, and then patted the cushioned exam table behind him. "Okay, hop up."

Elisa kicked off her shoes and slinked up on the table, watching as the doctor toddled off towards a section of cabinetry where, currently, a stack of paper among others teetered over the edge.

"Have you been feeling well?"

"Just the usual morning sickness, which not-so-surprisingly comes at dusk."

Pierce nodded to himself. "Any pains? Unusual fatigue? Blood in your urine?"

"No. Just the nausea."

"Good." He opened a drawer down to his side, reached in with both hands and pulled out an odd looking instrument. "Now..."

Her motherly instinct already kicking in, Elisa held a hand over her stomach and leaned away from him and whatever he brandished like some medieval weapon. Doctors still made her nervous. "What the hell is that?"

"A fetal Doppler."

She relaxed somewhat. "That sounds familiar..."

"Ah, you've been reading the books I provided you with." He offered her a better look at the apparatus, small, white and plastic, seemingly harmless enough. There was a larger base unit with a smaller wand attached by a curlicue cord. "This is a fetal Doppler, and we're going to get a listen for the soufflé you got baking in there."

"The baby's heartbeat..." she said distractedly, and then realized someone was missing for such an important moment. "Oh, maybe we should do this when Goliath is awake."

Pierce nodded, and went to put the instrument away. "You're probably right..."

"But!" Elisa shouted, stopping the doctor in his tracks. Unintentionally, her voice went high and sharp by a few octaves. "I mean...we could always do this again tonight. For Goliath's sake."

With a smile, he answered, "Of course. Lie back and lift your shirt."

Elisa did so and Pierce started rubbing a clear, cool gel across half of her exposed stomach. Wiping his hands on a towel, he unhooked the transducer from the main unit and gently pressed it into her lower abdomen, roaming it around the bulge.

"You haven't gone to the bathroom yet, have you?"

"No, I'm three cups of decaf over the legal limit." she answered, and squirmed, trying if not unsuccessfully to ward off the ever-incessant urge to wet herself. "You haven't actually explained why I can't pee either."

"In early pregnancies, it improves sound detection with a full bladder."

He continued silently, fine-tuning the Doppler and intently watching the digital readout. For a moment, when he wasn't able to find a heartbeat Elisa started to panic, every irrational fear ready to explode.

Until the speaker crackled and suddenly, a strange noise gurgled into a ghostly pulse.

Pierce smiled. "Well, there it is."

Elisa's breath caught in her throat. "Oh my god..."

He moved the Doppler slightly to clear the sound and the heartbeat roared through with unflinching clarity. "Strong and healthy."

But Elisa was beyond a simple verbal affirmation, as hearing that faint cadence was like music, and hope, and she became lost in the rhythm. "Is it supposed to be that fast?"

"About a hundred and forty beats per minute. That's a good sign." Pierce raised his eyes from the display and did a double-take at the small bead making its way down his patient's face, cheek to jawbone in one perfect line. He had to suppose it rare to catch the hard-boiled detective in such a moment of vulnerability, but allowed her the indulgence of letting the wall crumble under the auspices of doctor/patient confidentiality. Of course, if he told anyone, he'd most likely get a size eight and a half boot where the sun doesn't shine.

"So...you're sure it's healthy?" Elisa asked, quickly wiping her cheek.

"It's as healthy as I can determine from the heartbeat. I thought with Goliath's tri-chambered heart it might have sounded different but it seems it's taking more after you. I'll be able to verify the structure of the baby's heart as it grows."

Most of what he just said had faded in and out of Elisa's attention; in fact the entire world had melted away like an oil painting in the hot sun under that simple, beautiful sound. "Okay..."

Pierce noticed the faraway expression and simply shook his head, smiling.

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Fourth Month - May

Her jeans didn't fit.

She knew this day would eventually sneak up on her and her waist but, to a woman and especially one that prided herself on all the work that went into the abdominals her lover could bounce a quarter off of, seeing that canvas where Goliath had drawn lines of pleasure on a nightly basis balloon and distort was distressing to say the least.

Elisa tried to fit the metal clasp to the hole but couldn't quite close the gap; she struggled, gave up and then groaned. "Great," she whimpered, "it begins."

"Elisa?"

"I'm officially fat."

Goliath came up behind her and curled one of those massive hands around her midsection. There was a noticeable swell to her stomach and although he didn't think it detracted from her exquisiteness, but it was hard to convince a female that watching her body inflate to twice its size was a wondrous sight to behold. Nevertheless, he tried, "You are beautiful."

Elisa wasn't paying attention to the baritone, just the excess flesh bulging from under her shirt. It was mesmerizing, and terrifying, all at the same time. "Yeah, sure."

"Elisa..."

"Goliath, don't," she stopped him, and turned under the gentle weight of his hands on her shoulders, "I don't need coddling and false sentiment. I'm turning into a whale."

"You are simply pregnant, and beaut–"

"Goliath."

He straightened out and crossed his arms. "All right, you are fat."

Humor was never his strong suit but the vocal jab was skillfully delivered, so much so Elisa had to appreciate his point. "Okay, maybe I do need coddling and false sentiment."

"The sentiment is never false." Goliath added, leaning forwards. "You are beautiful, and you will remain so throughout your pregnancy. I don't care if you grow to twice your size."

"Please don't joke about that."

The stoic visage cracked a smile, unique in its reservation for one person alone. "Your discomfort will be worth it, don't you think?"

"Yeah...I'm just wondering where the ever-expanding flesh will stop before I explode."

"Five months and counting." he whispered, and went to reach for something on Elisa's desk. He delivered it back to her and she plucked the printed copy of the sonogram from his clawed hand and gave the ghostly image another look; like gazing into a stereogram poster, at first it was hard to find the indistinct lines that made up her unborn child against the blurry backdrop of black, white and the gray in between until she relaxed her eyes and it began to take shape.

She could make out the general form of the fetus with a few of its more gargoyle-like characteristics. A tiny amorphous wing could be seen near the shoulder and the small slip of a tail underneath, and the revelation was as potent even a day after. With the reality of her pregnancy softened by time to digest, the fact her baby would be born with extra appendages and whatever other carry-overs from Goliath's genetic material made this impending birth more complicated than it actually was.

The baby, if it survived to term, would be as feared and ostracized as the clan by humanity and Elisa would be forced to hide it away from her world, far above the city.

Seeing a wealth of emotion flutter through her features, Goliath knew what was going through her mind. "It will be loved." he assured her.

"I know..."

"But?"

"But it will be hidden, forced to hide from a world that would rather brand something so innocent as a creature, a monster."

"They'll learn, not quickly, but in time. Soon, our child will be able to walk the streets as easily as you do."

"I just hoped..." She buried that last, unthinkable thought under an artificial smile, which in turn fell off her lips pretty quickly. "Never mind."

But Goliath had already presumed what his mate was unwilling to share. "You just hoped the baby might not have been as obviously gargoyle as it seems to be turning out."

"It's a horrible thought."

"Well, slightly insulting..." he said, and returned Elisa's guilt-ridden expression with a half-grin. "But no, it's not horrible to wish the best for your child."

"It is horrible, especially to deny even half a gargoyle the skies, only because I want to parade my baby in front of my friends and family."

"You've given up so much of your world for me, and for our relationship, Elisa." he said, his hands on her shoulders. "And I grieve for the fact our child may not be accepted into the world that sits two thousand feet below us. But there will come a time when we are accepted."

"You really believe that?"

His wings closed in around them, cloaking them both and Elisa's head was tucked under his chin. "I do. I have to, or there is nothing worth fighting for. That belief sustains me."

From just over his shoulder and where the lavender wall of muscle didn't obstruct her view, she could make out part of the suite's smaller adjoining room and the new addition of a baby-changing table. Like seeing into the future, an image of Goliath appeared huddled over the table, struggling with something unseen. "I can't picture the great warrior Goliath cradling a tiny baby in his hands. Changing diapers, giving baths, doling out punishments..."

"Yes, I–diapers?"

He'd faced Vikings out for blood, robots, phantoms and clones but never the thought of trying to clean and dress a squalling child.

Elisa sensed the hesitation, considering the shudder had just rippled through his entire form. "Yes, diapers. Let me guess, you didn't spend much time taking care of the hatchlings."

"No, we had appointed rookery keepers. I often had more pressing duties than babysitting, and...of course..."

"What?"

"It is nothing."

"Goliath, come on, I'm pouring my heart out here. It'd be nice to have some reciprocation."

He sighed, his chest giving her a good thump as it deflated. "The hatchlings, they were so tiny, so fragile. I was often afraid I might...crush one of them."

A strangled sound found its way out of Elisa's sinuses and Goliath recognized it as a pitiable attempt to stifle a sudden burst of laughter. She quickly slapped a hand around her mouth and felt the wings around her constrict. "I'm sorry."

"Why must you do that?"

"What?"

"I bare my soul and you laugh."

"You're right." she quickly apologized, still laden with a wry grin. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to demean your soul-baring but, Goliath, you have to realize the mental image you created."

He bent down and butted his ridges against her smooth brow. "Just for that, you can change all of our child's diapers."

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Fifth Month - June

Food for a pregnant woman was supposed to be the island in a tumultuous sea, the light at the end of the tunnel or any other number of clichéd proverbs. In other words, bliss; to eat without guilt, gain weight for a purpose and when stepping on her digital scale, knowing every extra pound was going to a good cause.

But this, this was slow torture. Even as the majority of, if not all, pregnant women were allowed to indulge in most foods, Elisa's special needs had severely limited her menu.

But Pierce's medical degree trumped her usual diet of diner cuisine, take-out and coffee, extra heavy on the caffeine.

And as Elisa looked down at her own plate, full to the edge with fruit and raw vegetables, an overcooked, skinless chicken breast, a small baked potato, two slices of plain bread and a glass of milk to wash it all down, she balked. It wasn't as unappetizing as it could've been but compared to Santini's Double-decker Supreme, the meal might as well have been gruel.

The clan was gathered around the long dark-oak table in the castle's kitchen, dinner consisting of a delivery order that probably cost Xanatos a few hundred dollars on top of their monthly budget allowance; Fox had already come and got a few boxes for herself and her family. Elisa at the head alongside Goliath (the leader and his mate's traditional place), she'd a perfect, heart-wrenching view of humans and gargoyles alike gorging themselves on twenty-five extra large pizzas from one end to the other.

Casual, delighted conversation, every flavor on the menu, the wafting scents of pepperoni; if only they knew the resentment brewing inside of her, like a ticking time-bomb.

With a fork, she poked at her potato, crowned with a pitiable dollop of sour cream; it was a travesty she wasn't allowed to smother it with butter and chives and parmesan cheese, and no matter how she tried she wasn't able to convince Pierce, and Goliath, who was strictly enforcing every rule the doctor had set down, to allow her to bend them here and there.

Goliath especially. He was there, every time she tested the limits of her imposed food regimen and how a man that big could be everywhere, always looking over her shoulder, was nothing less than amazing. And annoying. She could've chalked it up to her husband's predilection for overprotection and while she had to admit there was reason to his madness, there was a limit to how much she could take.

"You're sure?" she said to Goliath. "That I can't have a single slice?"

Goliath cocked a brow-ridge towards her, his own plate piled ten slices high. His mate had been spoiling for something more than what she considered rabbit feed. "Doctor Pierce didn't want you having too many fatty foods."

"But one slice..." Elisa whimpered, watching the pile of empty pizza boxes steadily growing.

"Elisa..."

"Even the beasts are getting pizza!"

Goliath turned and followed the line Elisa's chocolate eyes had burned through the room, towards the other end of the table; Tachi and Nashville were dangling a few slices over Bronx and Fu-Dog's snouts, making them dance on their hind legs before awarding them. The beasts caught each piece and swallowed in one, satisfying gulp.

"Damned lucky dogs..." Then, she pouted, hoping Goliath would soften. "You've already taken away my coffee."

"You're allowed coffee."

"Decaf is not coffee." Elisa made a point of saying, recalling that vending machine sludge from the precinct and how she swore her plastic spoon actually melted into the cup. "It's evil in liquid form."

"Elisa, we have to be careful."

"I know." she sighed, and continued prodding at her meal. "I know..."

She looked so endearingly pathetic it tugged at his heartstrings, and a rush of air exploded out from his lungs. "All right." he caved and almost immediately, before his wife could jump onto the table, he caught her by the arm. "But only one piece."

Elisa nodded and shot up out of her chair, clawing for the biggest slice she could see. The rest of the clan quickly pulled their hands away before they lost a finger to Elisa's ravenous grasp. She left a string of Mozzarella cheese from the center of the table to her lips, and halfway through she started making sounds reminiscent of the night that caused her condition in the first place.

Todd couldn't help but be impressed. "That's hot."

"Elisa," Goliath minded, "moderation."

Already down to the crust, Elisa replied through the mouthful of cheese and meat, "No such thing."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Sixth Month - July

Desk duty. The words struck fear in any officer.

But with Elisa's advancing pregnancy, she was forced off her beat by captain Chavez and put at her desk, usually inundated with the paperwork while Matt could go gallivanting around the island, solving crimes, running down punks, getting involved in shoot-outs with mob cronies or drug-dealers; the fun stuff. He'd often drag himself back into the precinct with a limp and muddy clothes, laughing with any one of his replacement partners or a uniformed officer about how tonight's suspect had put up a good fight before being tackled to the ground by several cops in pursuit.

Then, he would drop a file folder on Elisa's desk, the perp's case-file and ask her, since she had the time, to finish up the paperwork while Matt went to get himself a coffee.

She graciously accepted as any good partner would do, knowing he'd owe her down the line.

Her entire shift was spent with her neck just above the pile on her desk, completely emptying the IN-box so much so her right hand was a misshapen claw. And now, back at home (at times she'd muse, the castle was slowly starting to feel like home) she'd escaped to the velvet solitude of the library. Goliath had finished his patrol and was there reading when she found him, but refused his insistence to drop everything and cater to her every whim.

She just wanted to sit, and rest, and relax, and have him in the background, hunched vulture-like over another thick book. She didn't need a butler or a nursemaid or even casual conversation, just his presence.

The fire hissed and popped with bubbles of air in the gas line, throwing orange on every surface and as far as it could manage against the library's dark drapery; Elisa's skin turned molten bronze, hair ringed by a crown of light.

Every so often Goliath would turn the page, take a breath, his wings would rustle and change position (she wondered if he was even conscious of each and every twitch).

Elisa would've fallen asleep if the baby didn't just decide to try for an early escape.

Suddenly, it felt like one of her organs had just imploded. It wasn't pain as much as surprise, rooted in her gut and for a moment Elisa thought something had gone wrong. All until it returned, her stomach an acrobat using her spleen as a trapeze.

"Goliath!" she squealed instinctively.

He turned, seeing Elisa shoot up and her hand protectively clutching her stomach with an expression that was unreadable at first. Panic set deep into his heart and it skipped a beat. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, something's very right." She lifted her shirt and put a hand to almond skin taught like a drum. "The baby kicked."

His brows met his hairline. "It did?"

"Yeah...at least I think so...either that or it's just bad heartburn."

The book smacked floor. He hurried over, around the couch's arm and tenderly placed a hand to her swollen stomach. His sense of touch heightened to the point where he could feel a spider walking along its web, the stillness was discouraging. He looked to Elisa and then back again, and wondered if he'd simply missed an opportunity rarely afforded to a gargoyle female (the egg's shell was often too thick to feel anything more than a faint tremor from a half-formed hatchling that needed another ten years to develop). He let his hand rest against his mate's stomach until, just before he'd decided to pull away, something inside did a dropkick against his palm and he grunted his astonishment.

"Oh!" Elisa started laughing, almost giddy. "Oh, oh god, there it goes again!"

"Incredible..." he sighed. A few more jolts, he could feel the baby turning inside of Elisa's womb, brushing itself and its wings along the uterine wall. And then, finding itself in a better position, relaxed and stilled. Goliath slowly took his hand away, those tiny movements still dancing on his skin like pinpricks.

Where Goliath wore his amazement like a cloak, Elisa was a vessel of unbridled joy, her smile so wide both ends met at the back of her neck. "God...the baby, I could feel it inside of me."

"It was amazing, Elisa." he whispered, drinking in her mirth. "I could feel every movement the baby made through my fingers with such perfect clarity."

"It felt weird, but wonderful."

"Indeed."

"Oh!"

"Elisa?"

"The baby's back."

Someone cleared their throat.

By the door, Goliath's sharp eyes and quick movement found his brother there, having somehow opened one of the library's two sturdy doors without the hinges giving him away. He was barely able to split his attention in two with his child belting at his hand through Elisa's flesh.

Othello's brow was firmly seated on his thin eyes, wondering just what he'd walked in on. Slipping between the door and the iron and leather chest plate, Desdemona appeared and recoiled in fear of disturbing an obviously private moment.

"Oh, Goliath, we are sorry..."

But Goliath fully revolved to meet his siblings, his tail nearly taking out a nearby table. "My brother! Sister!" he yelled to them. "Come."

Desdemona quickly jogged inwards, while Othello lagged behind.

"Please, feel Elisa's stomach. The baby is kicking."

Elisa guided the gargoyle's hand to the appropriate spot, and Desdemona's eyes lit up when the belly was struck from underneath. She kneeled at the couch's edge, smiling at the woman who'd tamed her brother. "As lively as Goliath was as a hatchling..."

Goliath noticed Othello was holding his distance. "My brother...?"

"I do not think it would be appropriate..."

"Othello, please, I assure you it will be all right."

"It's okay, Othello," Elisa tipped her head up to where she could see him, cowering behind, "I won't bite."

"I would rather not." he grunted.

Desdemona tried, "My love, it is a wonderful sensation."

"I will take your word for it."

"Othello, put your hand on my stomach." Elisa put a little force into it.

"No."

"Put your hand on my stomach."

"Fine!" he roared and walked up mumbling. A giant paw came down on her belly (gently) and Othello was decidedly unimpressed at the ripples curling down the skin. "Congratulations, your child is hearty, brother. May I take my hand off now?"

Goliath shook his head. It seems a thousand years spent in limbo did nothing to loosen, as Elisa would tell it, the stick in his ass. "Yes."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Seventh Month - August

For a pregnant woman trying to sleep it was slow torture, but for a woman on her gargoyle husband's sleep patterns trying to catch even an hour's worth of rest often wasn't possible in forty degrees. Even with Xanatos' multi-million dollar air-conditioning system on at the highest level, the bedroom was stuffy, the blankets too thick, the sheets too starched and whenever she tried to lie on her back, once the only position that didn't cause her pain, now caused her considerable discomfort.

Her eyes kept wandering back and forth between the ceiling, counting the stones, and her alarm clock, waiting as the numbers changed with every passing minute.

Her relief in finding the baby was didn't turn to stone during the day quickly dwindled with the fact that whenever she'd managed to grab an hour's worth of sack-time, the baby would kick a hole through one of her organs currently pressed up against the uterus. It didn't quite follow its father's nocturnal leanings. Elisa would shoot up to a sitting position and either hit the bathroom, grab something to eat, take a walk or anything else that could possibly pacify her tiny passenger. And with the heat sometimes reaching into the triple digits at the peak of the afternoon, it made sleep damn-near impossible.

Today was no different, and Elisa strained to sit up when the baby suddenly shifted; she assumed gargoyle females couldn't feel every foot, arm, wing or tail inside their eggs, and envied them (then swore at their damnable luck under her breath). "Damnit..." she muttered, and crawled out of bed.

Placing her hands to her lower back, Elisa stretched out the kinks, wiped her brow, kicked on a pair of raggedy slippers and headed to the castle's kitchen. Perhaps she'd grab a spoonful or two (or three, or the entire carton) of some ice cream. With Goliath in stone sleep, she could easily break her diet; well, she rationalized, bend her diet, just enough to gratify her urge for something cool and calorific.

As soon as she opened those towering bedroom doors, a small, gray streak of fur bolted between her legs and into the hallway. Cagney ran out, did a few frantic circles and then plunked himself down right in Elisa's path, mewling.

"Hungry?"

The cat cocked its head and cried again, this time with a bit of urgency behind the wail.

"All right," Elisa sighed, "I might as well get used to tiny things moaning at me for food." All it took was a single step and with the first sign of movement no matter how slight Cagney skittered down the hall, probably intent to meet her at the kitchen, waiting patiently in front of the electric can opener.

She noticed he'd gotten used to the castle very quickly, more so during the day, skulking around its winding halls and basement without a meddling guardbeast in sight. Elisa knew he appreciated the extra room being raised in an apartment all his life, especially the vast, green and flowered pastures of the courtyards (of course, there was that nascent fear he'd get too close to the castle's edge and not quite realize he was now a lot farther from the ground).

Elisa too, was becoming used to this place as something other than Goliath's keep. Home had always been the top-floor loft, simple and affordable, until she was offered so much more.

Coming up on the castle's kitchen she caught an odd sound from around the corner, the same sound a raccoon would make rooting through a couple of metal garbage cans. There were few people with access to the castle barring the Xanatos family and their pet robot Owen Burnett, thus it narrowed down the suspects to one in particular. And upon entering, her suspicions were correct.

The refrigerator door was open, the culprit hidden behind and too busy rummaging to notice Elisa creep forward.

"You know," Elisa started, hearing the intruder almost crack his head open on one of the fridge's shelves, "it's almost as if you live here."

Todd shot up from behind the open door, a half-eaten chicken leg held between his teeth. He nonchalantly pulled it from his mouth, swallowed the meat and cleared his throat. "I didn't think anyone would be awake at this hour."

"The baby is."

"Ah."

"So," she continued, maneuvering around him to grab for a can of cat food from one of the cupboards, "any particular reason why you're here when your girlfriend out there is currently stone?"

He held up the leg. If he was ashamed of stealing from the Wyvern stores he hid it well. "Well-stocked fridge." Todd explained. "I was going to hit the drive-thru but I'm...kinda short on cash."

"Mm hmm." was all Elisa said, before scooping out the chicken dinner into Cagney's dish and putting it in front of her cat. She thought she may have to shield herself against the shrapnel of chicken meal and gravy, and wasn't lost on the irony of watching an ordinarily normal being turned ravenous when food was placed in arm's reach. "I hope I don't look like that..."

Todd was over her shoulder. "No, you at least use a fork."

She smirked, didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction and simply headed towards the massive walk-in freezer. With a good hefty yank on the vault-like door, she disappeared inside for a moment, long enough for the cold air to creep along the floor and shoot up Todd's pant leg. Elisa reappeared with a carton of ice cream and, grabbing a spoon from the cutlery drawer, sat herself down at the table.

"Uh, I thought you weren't allowed ice cream."

"I am allowed to have ice cream." Elisa replied while removing the lid. "Just in small, reasonable portions."

Todd was skeptical. She was of course poised over a gallon of Fudge Ripple with nothing but a spoon and a bloodthirsty grin. "Uh huh."

"Is there a problem?"

"Just seems a little selfish, that's all."

The spoon never hit that vein of chocolate fudge running in swirls through the ice cream. Elisa froze, and snorted. "How do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, this diet you're on is only enforced for the fact your pregnancy is so delicate."

"Ice cream isn't going to harm the baby."

"Of course not."

Elisa decided to ignore the purposely sanctimonious remark and begin her feeding frenzy, until her conscience blindsided her like a ten-ton weight. "Damnit..." she sighed and reluctantly pushed the container away without taking a bite.

A smile cracked. "What?"

"All I wanted was some ice cream."

"No, what you wanted was to rid the entire world of ice cream a gallon at a time." Todd joked.

He did have a point; once started, she may not know where to quit. Her willpower had taken a direct hit being pregnant, strange urges taken the form of fattening if not delicious foods doctor Pierce had either restricted or outright banned. "Yeah, it's hard to resist when the baby has the appetite of a gargoyle."

"Well I don't pretend to know all the sordid details of your pregnancy, but it seems to me you're on that diet for a reason."

"I know, I know. You're right. My blood is checked on a weekly basis for iron and glucose levels, to make sure the baby's getting exactly what it needs and none of what it doesn't." She massaged her brow, and sat staring at the open container.

"Well, there is a compromise..." Todd offered, before he was faced with a blubbering pregnant woman. He hooked a few fingers over the rim of the ice cream container, flinching at Elisa's sudden, vicious head-turn (like trying to wrestle a piece of steak away from Bronx, or another large, angry, hungry wild animal). She didn't strike, but pinned him to his seat under a pair of iridescent eyes until he'd brought the ice cream close to his chest. "Calm down, calm down, I'm on your side." He leaned back in his chair, snatched a bowl from the counter and piled a few scoops of ice cream in the center. Cautiously, he slid the bowl towards her and quickly pulled his hand away. "If I can live on fast food for twenty years, then a small bowl of ice cream won't do any harm. Remember, moderation."

"That's exactly what Goliath said. Of course, he isn't going to push a watermelon out from one of his orifices in two months so he couldn't possibly imagine what it's like." She eyed the portion and deemed it adequate. Maybe she wouldn't have to kill him after all. "Thank you."

"Sure."

The first spoonful put the baby to rest and a placating smile on her face. "I's good."

Watching the love affair unfold before him, a woman and her chocolate, Todd shifted in his seat. He didn't know if ice cream was enough of a natural segue to the next topic eating at the forefront of his thoughts. "Can I...?" he started, then reared back, and waited for the courage to well up for a second try. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Your relationship with Goliath...it's worth it?"

Elisa flicked her eyes up, held there for a moment and studied the sincerity of his expression (he was actually serious), and then went back to her ice cream. "Worth everything." she said truthfully. "Back pain, swollen ankles, spending the days alone. Oh, and the general ostracism from society."

That same expression turned inside out; Todd wasn't prepared for honesty similar to a punch in the gut.

"Any particular reason why you're interested?"

"Well," he waffled, "I'm sure you know that already..."

"If you're really serious about Annika, you'd better be prepared for everything that comes with."

"I am."

"You absolutely sure?"

"Yes...I think."

She flicked the spoon towards him, her lips puckered. "This isn't something you can enter into lightly. I've had to sacrifice a lot–and I mean a lot–in my relationship with Goliath and if you're someone to balk at a challenge then I suggest this ends here, and now. Because you'll only hurt her in the end, and god only knows how important another healthy female is."

"I really like her."

"I'm sure you do. But there's got to be something more. You just can't have a fling with a gargoyle; they love deep and hard."

Whether or not he'd missed the point or let his humor bleed through, Todd was intrigued. "Ooh, really?"

"Metaphorically speaking of course." Elisa added, before the young man got some less than impure thoughts.

"Of course."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Eight Month - September

Another month, another few inches and Elisa was missing the sight of her feet.

It wasn't enough she'd gained a cup size but her stomach stuck out like the bow of an ocean liner and she had to be careful when turning corners or reaching for objects on high shelves. Her maternity leave had started just a few weeks ago and she was getting restless with nothing to do and the anticipation heavy on her shoulders.

And now there was the new development of Todd and Annika having taken that next important step in any relationship. The last month they'd moved from those first clumsy, timid gestures to what couldn't casually be discussed in the presence of small children. And as Elisa passed by a castle room they'd been favoring lately (uncomfortably close to her own), she put a little mustard in her stride to get by as quickly as possible.

The sounds were something out of a barnyard during mating season, and sometimes she'd wished Annika had either stayed a virgin or they got their rocks off at Todd's apartment. Maybe, if somehow she'd only avoided running into the young man in the castle's kitchen a month ago and didn't convince him to pursue this fulfilling albeit noisy relationship, she wouldn't help feel a little jealous.

She and Goliath had been abstinent since the honeymoon, and there were times when memories elicited more than a smile at what they did to fill an entire week, night and day. The bed, the beach, the water, the sky, the porch, the hammock and a recliner in the living room which had consequently collapsed under the strain, basically anywhere with a vertical surface had been left with the impression of sweaty butt-cheeks.

A woman had needs after all, and despite the revolving cycle of pain and discomfort (with all-too-brief periods of calm quietly interspersed), Elisa would sometimes get the itch to be taken violently like her husband would so often in the past. But Goliath had treated her like a glass figurine from the day he learned she was pregnant, terrified of hurting her or the baby.

Which was sweet, and utterly protective, if not incredibly aggravating.

She conceded the point, considering she'd walked, or rather limped away from her bed after many a night off, a bottle of wine and Goliath's insatiable sexual appetite. In the morning, under the satisfied grin of a massive stone statue she'd often had to retreat to her bathroom and reach around with a q-tip and rubbing alcohol to lightly dab the thin, red claw-marks down her back and sides, where her gargoyle lover had left his mark.

But frankly, she'd risk a bit of light bodily harm for Goliath's touch. She knew from experience his level of control and it could be simple, controlled and delicate, but it would be sex. They were adults, they knew each other intimately and where to draw the line.

Pushing the door to her bedroom aside, she immediately caught sight of her oversized mate and got a good view of his backside, ribbons of steel rippling beneath that milky lavender skin. "Hi, Big Guy." she breathed, index finger in her mouth.

Goliath turned and saw Elisa leaning against the doorframe, her stance a bit contorted and he assumed it was an attempt at something more than a simple greeting. "Elisa?"

"So, anything planned for tonight?"

He raised his chin, thinned his eyes and observed a heavily pregnant woman attempt to saunter seductively towards him. The result was more like a drunken fat man with shoes two sizes too big, but Elisa endeared herself if only for the effort. "No..." he answered cautiously.

"No patrols? No clan business? No criminals or super-villains attempting to take over the world..."

"No."

"Oh, that means we can spend some time together." She slinked up to one of the bed's spindles, curling an arm around the carved wood and flicking her eyelashes towards him as an assassin would a bullet. "You know, we haven't been able to be together for a while now–"

"Elisa, I have been by your side every single night."

"Well, I meant that we don't get enough time...just for us. Alone."

"What do you mean?"

"Goliath, you're not getting me." She stood toe-to-toe and traced a finger down the middle of his chest. "We don't spend enough time alone, the two of us, with no one else around..."

This was becoming tiring; often as sharp as a sword when it came to flirting and the dirty talk, Elisa was just getting sloppy in her impatience. Goliath crossed his arms. "Elisa, please drop the pretense."

It all crumbled and her expression turned solemn. "Fine, I'm horny."

"Elisa," he exhaled in a short, effortless puff, "I'm well aware of what this pregnancy is putting you through but I cannot in good conscience risk your health or that of our child's."

"Goliath, we're not talking skydiving off the cornices."

"No." he answered flat-out. "You are eight months pregnant."

She leaned against the bedpost, her mouth flat, much like any hope of getting him to drop this persistent overprotective streak. "Please don't reduce me to begging..."

"There is no need, as it will not happen."

Elisa huffed and flicked a black thread of mane from her shoulder.

"You are in a delicate condition." Goliath tried again.

"Delicate only according to you. Even doctor Pierce said sex was okay if we were careful, and you barely touch me anymore. It's insulting and somewhat frightening. Am I diseased or just not attractive anymore?"

"You are still extremely attractive." he replied perfunctorily, trained to never let a pause come between his answer and that sort of question.

"And I'm still a woman, not a baby-making factory. I have needs, and as much as I appreciate your steadfast protection of me and the baby, you're treating me like glass to an almost excessive degree and we haven't touched each other since the honeymoon. I've put on over thirty pounds, my back, legs and feet ache, one moment I'm regurgitating the other I'm close to eating the plate my food came on. Is a little bit of pleasure too much to ask?"

His eyes just happened to wander across one of the distant-lying shelving units and caught the spine of a book, a four hundred page hardcover brick. "And that book actually said a female's desire for sex decreases..."

"Well, it was wrong." Allowing the hormone levels to ebb slightly, she held up her hands and offered a compromise. "Goliath, it doesn't have to be sex per say, just...pleasure."

"Pleasure?"

"Yeah, I can pleasure you and in turn," she pulled in her bottom lip, "you can pleasure me."

Thin lines sketched through his brow. What Elisa was suggesting did seem a fair compromise and he had to admit, this self-enforced abstinence kick was beginning to eat at him on a daily basis. A male denied the most basic need was half a man at most (he'd already unconsciously doubled his intake of red meat). His Elisa swelling into motherhood was indeed an arousing sight; lithe curves become voluptuous, caramel skin aglow and her tendency to disrobe in his presence when readying for a bath or bed would boil the blood.

"We could have a bath together, sit in front of the fire or just go to bed. Naked."

"All right."

There was more argument waiting to be expressed but with Goliath's sudden reversal, Elisa was taken aback. "What, really?"

"Yes." he smiled. "Let's start with a bath. But we will be careful."

Elisa brightened and started pulling at her pants. "Oh, oh yes, careful. Get the lead out, Big Guy!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Ninth Month - October

Forty one pounds.

Nine months had equated to an extra entire third of her total body weight. And as Elisa twisted her body to see the digital scale around the bellyful, she groaned at the readout.

Doctor Pierce assured her it was normal for someone of her height and weight, especially carrying around a baby with extra appendages and thus, extra mass. She'd grown so big she could barely find a comfortable position in bed anymore or clothes that fit (despite Fox's generous donation of her old maternity clothes and a parcel of new ones from Manhattan's most chic designers).

But at least the average temperature had dropped so she could get some sleep at night, whenever the baby wasn't awake and that in itself was rare. Autumn had blown into town; Central Park had molted, turned gold and burgundy and every store had already plastered their front windows in Halloween decorations. The nights lasted longer and she was glad for it. Any extra minute with Goliath as flesh and blood was worth it, considering the excitement she'd see if only as a glint in his onyx eyes.

Week in and week out she kept her appointment with Pierce, who'd seemed to relax his dietary restrictions on hitting the last stretch of road. Even if something went wrong now, there was always the possibility of an early Caesarian section and he was sure the baby could survive in an incubator.

Of course, the subject of a C-section had already come up with better images of the nearly fully-formed baby and all the tangible proof Goliath was the father (with Goliath instinctively reacting on the suggestion of cutting Elisa open). Wings, tail and tiny brow-nubs four in a row across its forehead, the complications of the actual birth itself were quickly overtaking any concerns of bringing the baby to term. He'd rattled off a list from his clipboard while the couple digested, and a sense of déjà vu washed over them.

And as the countdown to her due date slowly approached, their attention turned to the actual birth itself.

"All right, Elisa," a voice came from behind, "it says you have to breathe in two short bursts followed by a longer third burst."

Elisa turned to find Goliath standing at the door way and buried in a book, one of many from a collection that'd filled half a bookshelf over the last nine months. It was back to business, and she didn't even get enough time for reflection and self-pity.

"Hee-hee-hoooo." he practiced. "Hee-hee-hoooo."

She put her fingers to her mouth, and stared. The sight of this massive gargoyle purposely hyperventilating was enough to patiently wait through more of the same loads of text, if only to see him do more of the same.

"When the contractions are at their longest and most powerful, the double hees need to turn into triple hees to better capitalize on oxygen and blood flow. As the contraction nears its strongest point, I need to urge you, 'okay, we are switching to triples', while keeping a close watch on the time of the contraction."

"And also being extremely sensitive to Mommy, reading all her body language so that when the contraction begins to ease the coach knows to switch back to doubles." Elisa finished the quote. "Goliath, I've read the book. Cover to cover."

He lowered the book just enough to reveal his gaze, humorless and static under knitted brows so low they kneaded his upper eyelids. "Reading is not the same as doing."

She raised her hands. "Okay..."

"On the bed." he ordered. "We're going to put what you've learned into practice."

Elisa shuffled towards their bed and rolled onto the duvet, shifting several times to find a comfortable position. All of a sudden the entire mattress and bedframe tipped backwards and groaned as Goliath climbed on behind her; she would've tumbled off if it weren't for the wall of flesh.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes."

"Do you need a pillow?"

"No."

He positioned himself behind her, hands on her shoulders, chest a brick wall. "Now, you need to take a short, fast inhalation of breath before each hee, and a longer inhalation before the hoo."

"All right."

They huffed and puffed in unison, hee-hee-hoooo, repeating the breaths like Morse code, hee-hee-hoooo, again and again, hee-hee-hoooo, until Elisa got a little lightheaded.

"Goliath," Elisa wheezed, blinking rapidly, "I'm seeing spots..."

He leaned in, lips by her ear. "Which is why we require practice." Goliath whispered. "The last thing we need is for you to pass out during birth."

"Actually, unconsciousness might be a blessing in disguise."

"Elisa."

"I'm sorry, but are you going to push a ten pound gargoyle out of your loins?"

"No, but I–"

"Exactly." she shot him down.

"Doctor Pierce does not want to risk using any medication during labor, and thus these breathing exercises could greatly reduce the–"

A hand suddenly shot up and over Goliath's mouth. Whatever word about to come out was stopped dead and the remnants muffled through slender fingers, indecipherable. "Please don't say pain." Elisa caught the remark with one of her own. "I am not looking forward to the pain. Both Fox and my mother have shared their own sordid stories of childbirth and it doesn't fill me with any kind of confidence."

"I will be there to support you, Elisa, I promise."

He could feel her nod against his bicep. "I know."

"Now," he was curled around her like an old recliner, one well worn in, "shall we try again?"

"On one condition," Elisa said, "if I do pass out, just let me sleep."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Tenth Month - Overtime

There wasn't supposed to be a tenth month.

Of course, she wasn't supposed to be pregnant with a half-gargoyle child conceived after only a single night and without any medical or scientific assistance, but Elisa wasn't all too perceptive on the details at the moment, especially with cramps, backaches and the inability to last an entire hour before going to the bathroom.

Thus, the mood worsened with every passing day. Her due date was a mark on the calendar more than a week passed and the paper product had paid for its transgression by allowing itself to be torn apart in a frenzy of fingernails. Elisa was only sated when there wasn't a scrap bigger than the size of her fist and seeing what she'd done under the red haze, still didn't alleviate the frustration of being pregnant for a week too long.

Walking was usually the only other thing that pacified the baby (eating being the other) and she decided on a walk around Wyvern. The halls were strangely empty this time of night, but she figured the clan was too busy avoiding her; good ears allowed them to slip away before she got close.

Sometimes Elisa would catch a shadow at the other end of a hall and wonder just which one of the gargoyles was running for their lives.

She knew she'd been a little less than pleasant to be around the last week but her emotional control had pretty much waved itself goodbye. Goliath was the only one brave enough to spend more than an hour in her presence, through every mood swing.

Coming upon the rec room, she heard voices and assumed she'd just stumbled upon the hideout.

An awed hush came over the gathered as Elisa walked in. Her temper in the later stages of her pregnancy had become the stuff of legends and everyone had learned to give her a wide berth (they knew Elisa knew they were avoiding her, but no one was very vocal about it). Extra patrols, surveillance, cleaning duties, Goliath was inundated with requests for anything to keep out of her way.

She stood near the doorway, scanning the room and of course noticed the fear she elicited.

Brooklyn was the first, and maybe the bravest, to approach. "Elisa, how're you doing?"

"Fine, I guess." she sighed.

"Can we get you something?" Angela asked from where she was seated.

"No, Angela, thanks. I'm just waiting for something to pop."

"Four days now, huh?" Brooklyn noted.

Elisa stretched out her back and groaned. "Four days too long. I'm ready to have this baby."

"Well," he smirked, not knowing the forces he was about to unleash, "since the baby's half gargoyle, it could be in there for a good five to ten years."

Everything after that moment went deathly silent.

Knowing something had gone dreadfully wrong, the gargoyle quickly scanned around him for any kind of reinforcement. Katana had vanished from his side and as soon as the last word had trickled from his beak, the rest of the clan in attendance shrunk from Elisa's expression.

Taking the opportunity for potshots the entire time he'd known her, even Todd had the sense to avoid any kind of joke at Elisa's expense this late into the pregnancy. His features clenched, and he started shaking his head. "Oh, dude...nooooooo."

"Uhm," Brooklyn stammered, feeling two dark, russet eyes burning a hole into his heart, "i-it was...just a joke."

Elisa crossed her arms, difficult to do with enlarged, tender breasts and a belly that was seemingly never going to go away. A new mood had just superimposed itself over the old one, and everything of the Elisa Maza they all knew and loved ceased to exist. "Is my misery amusing to you?"

"No, no, dragon no. I was just trying to, ah...lighten the mood. Lighten your mood."

"And what's wrong with my mood?"

He was quickly going down in flames, and his support had all but evaporated as the clan decided not to get involved for fear of any further bloodshed. "No, not your mood–which is delightful by the way–I was only concerned in making you feel better with...gentle humor."

And from the couch, Broadway nodded in admiration, "Nice save."

"Thank you." Brooklyn answered from the side of his beak.

But Elisa, judging by the fact her scowl hadn't softened any, wasn't persuaded, or impressed, in the slightest. "Ah, humor. You know what?"

"What?"

"Maybe you should just shut the hell up for the rest of my five year pregnancy."

He swallowed the knot in his throat. "Will do."

It looked like there was something else as Elisa raised her hand, pointed a finger and opened her mouth. A collective gasp went through the group, expecting a verbal fury comparable to an atom bomb to blow the room out from under them until Elisa simply huffed and stormed out.

Everyone released their breath. The human tornado was off to destroy another part of the castle.

With a whisper, Katana suddenly reappeared to Brooklyn's side without a hair out of place. "She appeared angry."

Brooklyn spun around, facing his mate. "Where did you go?!"

"My apologies, but even a warrior knows when to retreat."

"Yeah, well...good call."

Suddenly Fox slinked into the room, wearing the same expression someone would if they'd just thrown themselves from their speeding car to avoid a head-on collision with a tanker truck. She'd passed Elisa in the hallway. "Ah, that last, final stretch of pregnancy." she smiled at the memory, and how short she'd been with David. "Where your body swells, your bladder shrinks and your patience all but disappears. But Elisa seems a little more miffed than usual. Pray tell, did one of you make a joke at her expense?"

Brooklyn huffed; he made the joke at his own personal expense in order to help a friend (at least that was how he was justifying it). "I only made the comment that, since the baby is half gargoyle, she could be pregnant for a good number of–"

"Please don't tell me you said years."

"I did."

"He did." Katana echoed.

Fox crushed her brow into closed eyes, in pain. "Ooooh, well, you are a brave gargoyle. Stupid, but brave. You know, I'll have to try that one myself."

"I wouldn't..." Brooklyn warned her.

"I like to live dangerously," she shrugged, "and it's rare I get the chance to tease another pregnant woman around here," and then, her gemstone eyes made a circle about the room, "at least for a while."

"Fox," Brooklyn started, leaning to the side to make sure Elisa wasn't in earshot, "remember how Elisa didn't quite express any interest in a baby shower?"

"Vividly."

"Make it happen."

She ran her tongue over her canines, smiling that same, toothy grin whenever she had something up her sleeve. "I had a feeling you would change your mind. Give me a day."

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A day later and spirits reluctantly raised by the mountain of gifts and support from her friends and family, Elisa had to admit she enjoyed the impromptu baby shower especially in the fact she made out like a bandit. She'd told everyone there wasn't need for a shower as it wasn't her style to be constantly fawned over, and so early in her miracle pregnancy she didn't want to raise her hopes only to have them dashed if anything happened to the baby.

When Goliath had come searching after his patrol, he'd found her in the corner wrapped in a shawl with an empty plate on her lap, surrounded by gifts, half of which he had no idea of what they actually were (her old refurbished crib a particular favorite).

Escorting her back to her room to get some sleep (she was tired enough not to argue with her seven-hundred pound nursemaid), he noticed couldn't shake the lazy smile on her face as she started peeling off her clothes.

As Elisa went off to the bathroom, he followed behind led by a trail of clothing his mate had stripped off (still living like a bachelorette despite his attempts to the contrary). "So," he said, grabbing each piece, "did you really enjoy your baby shower, my Elisa?"

She was already in the bathroom, studying herself in the mirror. "Yeah, I think I did. It really helped put some things into perspective."

"What things?"

"Just how lucky I am to have you and this family."

"As am I."

Elisa started brushing her hair, and as her belly pushed up against the counter she hoped she wouldn't explode in the middle of the day, taking out half the west wing. But it wasn't until she felt an odd warmth between her thighs that something registered as being out of the ordinary and stopped mid-brush. "What the hell...?"

Did she just wet herself? Or...?

"Oh god..."

She slowly reached down with a free hand and quickly noticed the front of her nightgown was wet. Lifting the hem Elisa wiped a finger across the fluid on her thigh, and brought it back up to inspect it by rubbing it between her fingers. It wasn't urine, or blood, just a pale, straw-colored fluid.

"...oh my god!!" She dropped her brush, and Goliath picked it up as clearly as if someone had just driven their car through the bedroom.

"What is it?"

He was there, wide-eyed, as she emerged from the bathroom door, clutching her stomach. The baby was doing somersaults. "My...my water just broke..."

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Screaming followed. Lots of screaming.

And pain.

Pain, like lightning, like fire, and pain that would kill a lesser woman with one of those so-called 'normal' babies. Unless someone had given birth to an elephant, Elisa knew she had the edge on every mother in existence (well, human mother). As her stomach started to twist, she remembered the blur of passing stones, being carried through the halls as Goliath went on a panic-fueled rampage to reach the hospital and he didn't care who he stepped on.

She'd heard Angela (Broadway too?), saw a quick smear of lavender though it could've been Goliath's arm. Castle walls, elevator, annoying muzak, Goliath's heart pounding against his chest, more running, the overwhelming scent of antiseptic, doctor Pierce smiling and her sudden urge to put her fist through his face.

She was put into a hospital gown and gently laid into bed, Goliath never far from her side as he helped with her Lamaze breathing (though, ironically, after all the practice he nearly screwed up the rhythm a few times). The pain was increasing, coming in waves and at its peak she thought she might put her fingernails through his skin, but Goliath bore it with an inconspicuous wince, even as his tail lashed so hard it nearly tore up part of the linoleum. Pierce walked back into her field of vision, and all Elisa could see through a spider-web of long, sweat-soaked strands of hair was a man completely garbed in a blue medical gown and mask.

And underneath she knew he was grinning.

"Okay, Elisa, you're dilating pretty fast. It shouldn't be long now."

And it wasn't. She could've set a speed record for how long the labor actually lasted. Before she knew it Pierce was down between her legs and the baby was already crowning.

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She didn't feel herself blink.

In fact, she hadn't felt herself blink for the last hour, but most of everything else like sound or autonomic functions had simply faded away from the bundle in her arms. She couldn't stop staring at the tiny copper prune in her arms; clean and quiet, color bleeding through her skin and wings, Trinity was asleep in the soft folds of the blanket.

And Elisa Maza had just made a disturbing discovery, just now sinking in after all the adrenaline and hormones had receded. She was a mother.

All the fears, the doubts, the pain and discomfort, the risks, the complications, the doctor's appointments, the restricted diet and the sleepless nights had all but disappeared in the wake of this tiny miracle. Goliath had beamed, cried and traced her cherub features with his knuckles, melting into a purple puddle of shamelessly unrestrained emotion at his newest daughter. When he held her he could fit the tiny girl into his hands alone, and he was uneasy right up until Elisa had delivered Trinity to her father.

Once the crowds had thinned out, the doctors off celebrating and probably getting every detail down in writing somewhere, and Goliath momentarily out for something to eat considering he'd yet to have anything since waking up seven hours ago, she was alone to revel in the warmth and impossibility of this little tangible marvel.

She traced her brow, drew fingers through the black wisps of hair, kissed her ever so delicately and whispered, "I'm going to love you forever."

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2017

Elisa was fuming. Not only did her captaincy come with an almost overwhelming amount of work which had been unceremoniously dumped on her (something that Maria had failed to warn her in great detail), but the oldest and supposedly most responsible of her four children had just roared back in on the butt-end of a Kawasaki Z9000 three hours after she was supposed to be home.

There was a part of her that was glad Goliath was currently in a meeting at U.N. Headquarters, but the other part...if there was anything to put the fear of God into her daughter it was the ominous, silent glare of her father. She hit the Great Hall across from the elevators just in time to see her daughter stroll out.

The girl was sauntering without her eyes on the road, black hair windblown and face dream-struck with no idea just how much trouble she was in.

"Trinity Hope Maza!"

Trinity fell back to reality and fell hard, seeing her mother standing directly in the middle of the opposite hallway (and somewhat relieved an entire room and a heavy table separated them). Her parents only ever used her full name when they were angry and her mother looked it. "Oh...mom." she said. "I thought you were at the precinct."

"I was, until about a half hour ago. You know, if you're going to constantly break curfew you should at least make sure you're home before I am."

"I'll note that for next time." she muttered.

"There isn't going to be a next time." Elisa retorted.

"Seriously, mom, calm down before you blow an o-ring or something..."

"Don't give me that, young lady. You were out past your curfew. Way past your curfew, again."

Starting towards her, Trinity casually smoothed her hair back and explained as best she could. "Xander and I went out for a ride. We lost track of time."

"Yes," Elisa answered, watching as Trinity brushed past her presumably on her way to her room, "on his new deathtrap. Tearing through traffic like you don't give a damn and without a helmet."

The argument became mobile, continuing down the hall. "And how is riding a motorbike more dangerous than flying a thousand feet above the city?"

"You're not doing a hundred and twenty on a tiny steel frame with five gallons of flammable gas underneath your butt."

Trinity's eyes went to slits. Either her mother had just gotten lucky with her guess, or she'd been spying on them with the Cyber-Biotics drones leased out to the Manhattan police department. Regardless, she still had an excuse. "Xander's a great rider, he was very safe. Plus, the whole magic thing kind of negates any need for a helmet."

Elisa shook her head. "I don't care. It's against the law and this is the fourth time in a row you've come home late in a week. The last thing we need is the daughter of the Gargoyle Ambassador to the U.N. being brought home in the back of a police car."

Trinity immediately drew up into a mock salute. "Oh, pardon me, captain Maza"

But Elisa didn't see the humor from her side of the argument. This was her firstborn after all, and she should be setting a better example for her siblings.

"Maybe you should go and get Ambassador Goliath and have him flog me." Trinity continued, showing just how much she'd mastered her inherited sense of sarcasm.

"Don't give me that tone."

"I wasn't giving you any tone!"

"I invented that tone, and I should be able to recognize it." Elisa countered, hips cocked under her skirt. "Now you know full well what I've seen in my time, and I won't have my oldest daughter brazenly breaking the rules your father and I set down. Especially with that..." Swear word, swallowed. New word, substituted. "Boy."

"Mom, you've known that boy since birth! It's Alexander!"

"I also know his tendencies to do things a little too much like his father."

The angry expression quickly transmuted into a counterfeit smile, and Trinity knew just how to get under her mother's skin. "You know what?! I'm just going to marry him! And we're going to have a whole clan of tiny Xanatos babies, just to annoy you!!"

And to Elisa, it was the best revenge possible. "Good! I hope your children drive you as crazy as mine do when they break every rule you set down, and that's punishment enough!"

Trinity reared back, left with only one recourse to a teenager. "Fine."

"Fine." Elisa shot back.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

There was a moment between brown identical eyes so hot it seemed a spark might have ignited out of thin air until each of them whirled around, stomped into their respective rooms and slammed the doors.

Slam!

Slam!