Raincheck

Table of Contents Raincheck About the Author Also from Sarah Madison Copyright

Raincheck

Rodney opened one eye and glanced up at the sky when the first drop of rain hit his nose. He sighed. Well, after all this unrelenting heat, a little rain was probably a good thing. Still, it made for an unpleasant night, particularly if the storm blew over quickly and left nothing but a steamy, sauna-like atmosphere behind. As was his usual habit, he scanned his surroundings as best he could without actually moving just yet. The last rays of light were fading from the sky, the cars below beginning to turn on their headlights. Across the street, the skyscrapers began to light up from within. He could make out the movement of people inside some of the windows, like ants behind a wall of glass. Not that he’d ever seen an ant farm, but he’d read about them. It should be safe enough. People seldom came up to the rooftop these days, especially now in the summer’s furnace of heat. Cautiously, he turned his head. Yep. Empty. The rain began to fall in a steady patter, slicking his skin and darkening the tarpaper on the roof below him. A small gust of wind stirred up the remains of some dead leaves and sent them skittering against the balustrade. He glanced down at the supporting stone structure at his feet. The cement beneath his toes clearly showed a wide crack. Was it his imagination, or was it bigger tonight than it had been the night before? He didn’t know. All he knew was unless someone patched his base, at some point soon he’d go tumbling down thirty floors to the street below. Never mind the pedestrians and traffic; it wouldn’t be so good for him either. Carefully, he eased himself off the damaged pedestal and, gripping the balustrade, swung lightly over the low rail to land on the rooftop. Ah, well. There was nothing he could do about it. It wasn’t as if he could head into the nearest hardware store and buy the necessary supplies needed to fix his own perch. The idea amused him, however, and he pictured himself walking into a supply store, his claws ticking on the tiled floor as he made his way to the information desk and asked for assistance. In his mind’s eye, salesgirls screamed and fainted, dropping inelegantly to the floor, while customers turned, whitefaced and horrified, to shrink against the walls. And he, Rodney, walked out of the store with a basket under one arm, everything he needed to repair his base and get on with the next hundred and fifty years or so of his life. Unless, of course, his building was torn down. Then it wouldn’t matter if his support disintegrated right out from under him. It could happen; he knew that. Older buildings like his were knocked down every day to make way for newer, larger, shinier ones. Was that such a bad thing? He didn’t know. Maybe this was all there was. Maybe he’d lived all the life he could have reasonably expected to live and to want something more was merely crying for the moon. He stared out across the Hudson River, feeling the cool rain moistening his skin, and he sighed again. It was too soon to stretch his wings. His tail flicked up over one arm and coiled itself around his bicep as he sought the protection of the shadows and waited for darkness to fully descend. It was going to be another long night.

It was nearly midnight when the door to the roof was violently flung open.

Rodney moved into the deeper shadows beside the large vent for the building’s coolant system and watched curiously as someone stepped out onto the roof. The rain had stopped a few hours earlier, and now the moon decided to break through the clouds, bathing the rooftop in a clear silver light. It wouldn’t be good if a human spotted him. The man who stepped out onto the roof was the most beautiful person Rodney had ever seen. He was dressed in one of those black-and-white outfits—it took Rodney a moment to supply the word tuxedo—and walked with determination over to the edge of the roof, placing a foot on top of the low railing and resting his forearms upon his knee. A bottle of whisky dangled from one hand. As the moonlight gleamed down from above, Rodney saw that his collar was open and his tie askew. He could make out the glint of silver from a chain around the man’s neck Rodney couldn’t determine the color of his eyes at this distance, but his hair was dark and short, standing up in startled spikes as he stared broodingly out at the city lights below. The sounds of the street wafted upward: the rumble of traffic, the honking of horns and the occasional siren. The man at the rail stood for a long moment looking down at the city before straightening and placing both feet on the rooftop. He raised the bottle to his lips and took a swig from it. With a swift, angry movement, he lifted the bottle as though to dash it to the ground. “Pity to waste that,” Rodney said, thinking aloud. The man flinched and spun around to peer into the shadows of the rooftop. “Who’s there?” His voice was sharp. Rodney was taken aback. He flattened himself against the air-circulation duct, grateful for the way the brilliant moonlight made the shadows that much darker and deep. “You heard me?” No one had ever heard him speak before. It was one of his greatest amusements, providing a pithy but silent commentary on the actions of others around him. The man gave a short laugh, full of harsh humor. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have spoken so loud, buddy.” “Um, sorry about that.” The man shrugged. He half turned to look back out at the city lights. “Don’t mind me,” he said at last, glancing toward the blackness where Rodney was hiding. “I just came up to clear my head.” Rodney scarcely knew what to say. For the first time in his memory, someone other than his kind could hear him, and now he was actually carrying on a conversation with a human. This was a momentous occasion, and it surely needed to be marked in some way with a profound statement on his part. “A bit hot for that, don’t you think?” He smacked his forehead silently in the shadows. First contact communication with another species, and he’s talking about the weather? The man didn’t seem to notice. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Don’t know why I thought it would be any different up here. I’m David Marshall, by the way. Apartment 14 C.” David. That was a nice, strong name. It suited him. In the light of the moon, Rodney could see that David was everything he was not. David wore his tuxedo with a lean, lounging grace. The moon cast the planes of his face into sharp relief: high cheekbones; a long, well-shaped nose; lips full and pouty, as though they’d been designed for another face but had been given to him as a generous afterthought. He was simply gorgeous. Rodney suppressed a sigh.

“I’m Rodney,” he said, deliberately leaving out the rest of the information that David had so easily provided. “Here’s to you, Rodney.” David lifted the bottle and took a healthy swallow. He blinked at it a second and then held it out in Rodney’s direction. “Here. Help yourself.” “Ah, no thanks. Some other time perhaps.” He was very tempted to step out into the moonlight and take the bottle. He’d always wondered what whiskey tasted like and whether it would have an effect on him. This conversation was the most interesting thing he’d experienced in years, however. He loathed the thought of it ending with horrified yells and him hiding from the police for the rest of the evening. David nodded solemnly and dug the toe of one gleaming patent leather shoe into the tarpaper. He made a small, resigned sound and shifted his weight, as though getting ready to head back inside. Rodney found himself desperately wanting to prolong the conversation. “Clear your head from what?” “What?” David looked up in his direction, his thoughts apparently somewhere else. His expression lightened. “Oh. Right. Yeah, well.” David scowled, obviously remembering something from earlier in the evening. He made even that look sexy, and the thought startled Rodney. Since when did he think of people as sexy? David gave a little half shrug, a movement that Rodney envied in its simple elegance. “My father is Patrick Marshall. You know, Marshall Industries?” “The big property developer?” Rodney did know who he was. Marshall Industries was one of the fast-growing developers in the city, with signs heralding the appearance of a new building almost every day—usually on the site of an older building, such as his. “Yeah.” David didn’t sound happy about it. “That’s him. Well, I’m the oldest son; he thinks it’s about time I settled down, got married, and took my place in the company.” “But you don’t want to,” Rodney guessed. “It’s not the life for me,” David growled. He turned toward the railing and looked out upon the city, waving the bottle toward the lighted buildings as he spoke. “I don’t want to spend my life tearing things down to put up bigger things no one really needs. And I sure as hell don’t want to be married off to some woman chosen by my father for her money and connections or how nice she’ll look on my arm. Or some woman, period.” Rodney cocked his head as he watched David at the rail. Even his back was gorgeous. Long, crisp lines that spoke of a lean athleticism that Rodney could never hope to duplicate, not with his great, hulking body. “So what is the life for you?” David briefly glanced back in his direction. “I don’t know. If I did, it would be easier.” “Why not just walk away?” Rodney didn’t understand; this guy could do whatever he wanted. David made that unpleasant laughing sound again. “Easier said than done. I have no real skills and no money outside the family trust. I’m in my thirties and I have no fucking idea of what I want to be when I grow up.” “I don’t see the problem.” David shook his head, turning off the rail to face the sound of Rodney’s voice. “It costs money to live in this town. I can’t just cut all my ties with my family; and let me tell you, that’s what telling my dad ‘no’ would entail. I might live in a cage, but it’s a nicely gilded one and I don’t see any way of leaving it.” “Bullshit.” Rodney had to control his anger. “I don’t think you know what the definition

of a cage really is.” “Excuse me?” David had the air of someone who was not used to being spoken to in this manner. “You heard me. Any cage where you have the key, where the goddamn door is open, only you’re too chickenshit to walk out of it, is no cage at all.” David looked taken aback, his mouth hanging open slightly before he closed it in a little half smile. “You know, I was about to get pissed at you, only something tells me you’re speaking from personal experience.” “Hooray for you. See, there’s one skill I bet you didn’t know you had. Personal observation.” David laughed and this time, he sounded genuinely amused. “I’ll have to put that on my resume. You’ll be a character witness for me, right?” “Sure.” Rodney couldn’t help but be a little mollified by his reaction. Even among his own kind, Rodney’s bluntness was legendary. “Well, Rodney,” David drawled, a warm, inclusive note to his voice. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. I owe you one.” “Anytime.” Rodney watched David turn and head back toward the door to the roof, bottle swinging loosely in his hand. I wish I could move like that, he thought.

David wasn’t entirely sure why he was heading back up to the roof. It had been several weeks since he’d had that unusual conversation with the voice in the darkness, and he had no reason to think that Rodney would be on the roof this evening. He wasn’t even sure that Rodney lived in his building, though it seemed most likely that he did. Only residents had access to the roof. He didn’t know why it mattered. He only knew he’d like to be able to talk to Rodney tonight. The door to the roof groaned as he opened it. He didn’t remember it making that much noise the last time. He’d have to bring a can of silicone spray up here and work on it. He shook his head; like it mattered if the door groaned or not. Still, it bugged him, and it was an easy fix. Unlike the previous time he’d been up here, the moon was only a thin sliver in the sky and barely cast any light at all. He wished he’d thought to bring a flashlight. Next time, he told himself and wondered why he was so sure there would be a next time. “Hey, Rodney,” he said into the darkness as he stood on the roof, looking around. “You out here, buddy?” He heard a slight whisper of sound over by the air-conditioning unit. It didn’t strike him as sounding human, more like the rustle of wings or the furtive movement of some animal. Maybe a rat; no, more likely a bird. One of those pigeons that seemed to be on every building ledge in the city. He had no idea why this disappointed him. Maybe it was because he had no other way of getting in contact with Rodney, and he wanted to speak to him. The sibilant noise wasn’t repeated; all David heard was the slightly muted sounds from the street below. It reminded him of a beehive with all its busy, seemingly pointless activity. Just as he was turning to leave, he heard Rodney’s rich baritone, sounding eerily close yet impossible to pinpoint.

“Um, yes?” David felt a smile steal over his face. It was funny to think that the guy who sounded so sure of himself last time seemed uncertain now. “Hey, I’m glad you’re up here. I just wanted to let you know I took your advice.” “My advice?” David wished he could see Rodney’s face. The guy sounded stunned and it made David want to laugh. “Yes, your advice. I told my father that I didn’t want to join the company and I had no intentions of marrying, ever. There was a lot of yelling, and then he kicked me out, this time for good.” David heard another sound in the darkness, as though Rodney had made an involuntary movement toward him but thought better of it. “Oh, wow. I’m so sorry. Really, you have no idea.” There was a pause before Rodney’s voice sharpened. “Wait a minute. You said ‘this time’. You mean he’s kicked you out before?” David shrugged. “This makes the third time. When I was seventeen, he told me that I was a business investment that wasn’t meeting expectations and he cut me off for a while, but my mom talked him into funding my college tuition again. After her death, he stopped using the threat of disowning me to keep me in line. I think he really means it this time, though. I certainly do.” “You must be really pissed with me.” David did laugh this time, and it struck him that his laughter sounded as free as a bird. He could picture it, soaring overhead, above the city’s noise and pollution, to where the sky was clean and full of stars. “No, I want to thank you. I can’t tell you how much better I feel. I’m thirty-five, with no foreseeable income, and cut off from my family connections. I have no idea how I’m going to pay the rent three months from now, but I feel better than I’ve felt in my whole life. I feel alive.” “Oh, hey. That’s really great.” David could hear it then, the longing in Rodney’s voice. It spoke of years of living in silence, and David recognized that sort of deadness with every fiber of his being. He thought back to Rodney’s anger with him over the concept of living in a prison, and it seemed to make a bit more sense now. “Anyway,” he said, suddenly feeling awkward. “I wanted to buy you a drink. Come on. Let’s go grab a beer, on me.” “Look at you, the big spender. Don’t you think you’d better hold onto your cash until you find a job?” The grumpy quality was back in Rodney’s voice, and David found that much easier to bear. It seemed right somehow. “I think I can spring for a beer.” He wished Rodney would come out where he could see him. The disembodied voice, no matter how deep and seductive it sounded, was starting to feel a little creepy. “Call me when you make your first million.” David felt the breath rush out of him. He hadn’t thought Rodney would be like that. In fact, Rodney’s rudeness to him the time before had convinced him that Rodney wasn’t the type to be swayed by money. Apparently, he was wrong. “Right.” He could hear the stiffness in his voice but he no longer cared. “Guess you’ll have to take a raincheck on that, huh?” He was halfway back to the door when he heard Rodney call out to him. “David. Wait.”

He glanced back over his shoulder, where he could just make out the shape of someone standing in the shadow of the exhaust vent for the cooling system. The dim light must be playing some weird trick on his eyes, because the guy looked huge, much taller than David expected, with broad shoulders like a weight lifter and a body that seemed to taper to an unexpectedly narrow waist. He turned completely to face Rodney’s direction. Rodney seemed to melt into the shadows as he did so, merging once again with the upright ducts on the rooftop. “It’s not what you think, okay?” Rodney’s voice was pleading, and David could hear a different kind of longing there. “I can’t.” “Hey, it’s cool by me if you don’t drink,” David said, relieved that he’d misinterpreted the situation. “We can get a sandwich instead.” He sensed that Rodney was shaking his head. “There’s nothing I’d like more. But I can’t go out with you. I can’t be seen with you. I’m… different.” “Different how?” David frowned, taking a step forward. There was a whisper of sound, which suggested to David that Rodney had retreated even farther away. “I can’t explain. Trust me on this one, though.” “I don’t care about appearances, Rodney. I’ve been living for appearances my whole life.” “Easy for you to say, gorgeous.” Rodney’s voice was dry. “You’re easily the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” David felt heat rush into his face. “Now who’s talking crap? I don’t see why….” His cell phone went off. Frowning, David pulled it out. “Oh, hey,” he said, seeing that it was from Richard. “I need to take this call. We haven’t finished here, though. Will I find you here if I come back again?” He peered into the shadows, trying to see where Rodney was standing. “I’m here most nights.” Rodney definitely sounded as though he’d moved farther away and was on the other side of the roof now. “Right.” David picked up the call, walking back to the door as he spoke. “Richard. Thanks for returning my call so late tonight. Listen, I had this idea that you might find interesting…. Hang on a second, I’m on the roof, and it’s windy up here. Let me get back inside where I can hear you better.” He paused at the door to look back at the alien landscape of shadows on the roof. There was no sign of Rodney. It was as if he didn’t exist.

Rodney stretched and yawned before moving off of his pedestal, only to feel a slight give to the base when he did so. He hurriedly swung over the wall to the rooftop, breathing heavily as a jolt of adrenaline coursed through him. Cautiously, afraid of what he might find, he crawled back out over the railing, clinging upside down to the wall to get a closer look at the crack in the base. He’d waited longer to move tonight, making certain that the sun had completely set before opening his eyes. Fortunately, he could see very well in the dark. The crack didn’t look any worse than the day before. He knew what he’d felt, though; he didn’t think he was imagining things. With a resigned sigh, he quickly pulled himself back up to the roof. That was when he saw it. The small table set out in the middle of the rooftop. As he

approached, he could see that it really was a packing crate covered with a red-and-whitechecked cloth. On it sat a bottle of beer, condensation still beading on the surface of the glass. Beside the bottle was a plate holding a large sandwich, a mound of potato chips, and a pickle slice. Rodney looked around to see if someone else was on the roof, planning to enjoy an al fresco meal, but there was no one else there. That’s when his eye caught sight of the folded piece of paper sticking out from underneath the plate. He opened the sheet of paper and angled it so he could read it in the ambient light from the city around him. Rodney, it read.

I’ve been thinking about what you said and decided that despite the fact you won’t come out with me, that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right? It’s cool with me if you don’t want to leave the building. I’ve narrowed down the possibilities—you’re a reclusive genius with agoraphobia or a wanted fugitive or a superhero. I’m right, aren’t I? Now if I only knew which one. David PS. Since you won’t grab a bite with me, I brought it to you. Hope you find it in time. Otherwise, I’ll owe you another raincheck. Damn. I should have put this in a cooler, huh? Rodney grinned. So, David was an idiot and a bit of a romantic as well, whether he realized it or not. It didn’t mean Rodney couldn’t enjoy the meal. It would make a nice change from pigeon. He peered at the top of the beer bottle, trying to figure out how he was supposed to open it. “Huh. Fancy that,” he said aloud to the night as he grasped the bottle top with clawed fingers and twisted it off. “Screw top. What will they think of next?” He’d tasted beer before, in the dregs of bottles left behind in the trash. Never before had he consumed a beer still cold from the fridge, though. It was so unexpectedly satisfying that he’d drunk almost half the bottle before he’d realized it. He quickly turned his attention to the sandwich. The layers of meat and cheese, combined with the crisp bacon and fresh lettuce, exploded on his taste buds in a way that made him moan with pleasure. The only drawbacks were the little wooden sticks embedded within; he didn’t see the appeal to them whatsoever. It was only when he’d eaten three quarters of the sandwich that he realized that the sticks were meant to pin the layers together and that he probably wasn’t supposed to eat them. He left the empty plate and bottle on the packing crate, the idea of flying down to ground level to dispose of the trash as ludicrous as his going shopping in the local hardware store for concrete mix and a trowel. He started to leave the note as well but thought better of it. Walking over to the air-conditioning unit, he removed a panel at its base. Inside, he kept a few private things. The playbill from Phantom of the Opera; a cracked snow globe, rescued from the trash and depicting a family setting out from a well-lit home in a horse-drawn sleigh; three different versions of the Bible—well, two and a half, if you considered that the pocket copy contained only the New Testament and Psalms; a crystal pendant, found twinkling in a storm gutter on a frosty winter night; a wellthumbed copy of Gaudy Night by Dorothy Sayers; and A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens, snagged out of the fifty-cent box in front of the used bookstore three blocks over and paid for with the dollar he’d found the week before. Pity the bookseller hadn’t made the mistake of leaving the box out overnight again. He never knew if the owner had found the money he’d left under the box. The note from David would make a nice bookmark.

Apartment 14 C proved to be an interesting apartment from Rodney’s point of view. The Freemont was an old building, built back in the early 1920s. Rodney himself had been shipped over from England, from an even older building, to form part of the rainspout system. He shuddered briefly at the memory of waking up in a packing crate and the moment of panic when he’d had to decide whether to break out or wait and see where he ended up. He was glad now he’d chosen to wait it out. The Freemont was a nice building, and the neighborhood had been an interesting place in its heyday. The Freemont was thirty stories high, large for its time, and had one main tower and two smaller side towers. Apartment 14 C was essentially a penthouse apartment for the east tower, and as such, was a compact, studio-style living space. It was also one of two apartments that boasted skylights. It was easy enough to wait until full darkness and glide down to the lower level, landing on the wall just above the glassed-in roof, to get a bird’seye view into David’s apartment. The sheer number of books within made his fingers curl with longing, so strong was the desire to caress the bindings and fold himself into a chair for an evening of reading. He’d never heard of so many books in one place outside a bookstore or library, and he’d only ever seen those collections from the outside of a window looking in as well. He liked to picture himself sitting comfortably in the overstuffed chair, reading by the hour while David sat across from him doing the same. He often created elaborate fantasies about himself and David sharing meals, watching television, playing games of chess. Don’t be stupid, he frequently told himself, usually when the first pale streaks of dawn lit the morning sky, and he had to hurry back to his pedestal before dawn actually broke. No one knew exactly what would happen to a gargoyle who failed to return to his base before daylight; no one had ever heard from anyone who had failed. Fred, over at the library, had theorized that the hapless gargoyle would turn to dust and blow away with the wind. He’d talked about it a lot until one day, Fred didn’t return in time. Rodney always believed that it had been a deliberate choice on Fred’s part. Fred had been old, older than any of the other gargoyles that Rodney had known, and increasingly bitter. He was without wings as well; he’d been on an even shorter leash than most of Rodney’s kind. There aren’t many of us left, he thought as he took up his position outside David’s windows that evening. So many buildings were being torn down, and no one was commissioning gargoyles anymore. No one seemed to know why only one gargoyle per building would transform into a living, breathing being each night, but the general consensus was that their days as a species were numbered. It had never really bothered Rodney before. Something about David, however, brought out a longing in him for things he didn’t understand, things he’d never known that he needed. Things he’d only ever read about. Watching David move about his apartment was like watching a play, Rodney thought. No, more like television. Rodney had hidden in the catwalk of a theater to watch Phantom that one magical night. Sometimes he could still feel the music swirling and vibrating within him. He’d only seen television through the windows of other people’s homes—bright pictures with muted sound telling stories he only partially understood. He often felt that way when watching David. David was cooking the Asian noodles in the brown broth again, which made Rodney’s mouth water whenever he smelled it. David seemed to make that meal a lot, often varying

it by the addition of chopped vegetables. He used to eat mostly out of those little cardboard boxes that Rodney knew to be takeout, but it had been several weeks since the man from Huang’s had made a delivery. For a human of his size, David didn’t seem to eat very much; Rodney wondered how he managed to stay alive. He was sorely tempted to leave David a pigeon or two, if only he could figure out how to get them into the apartment. David frequently went days without shaving, becoming progressively more scruffylooking yet somehow more attractive, until Rodney took his place at the window to discover the stubble was merely a shadow on his face again. There didn’t seem to be any logic to the pattern, and Rodney probably spent too many hours after David had turned out the lights brooding about the reasons and whether he preferred scruffy David or smooth David. He was smooth this evening, and Rodney was reminded of the way David had looked that first night on the rooftop. Even clean-shaven, there was a sort of wildness about David that appealed to Rodney and made him think they had something in common. Rodney wondered if David planned to go running tonight, a habit that made Rodney worry about his safety. Fortunately, Rodney’s night vision allowed him to pick out David’s lean form from a height high enough that few noticed Rodney gliding silently above. Rodney had been little disturbed to see a blurry photograph of himself appear one evening on the front page of a tabloid; so much so, he’d actually stolen a copy of the rag when no one was looking. Fortunately, the tabloid’s reputation was so bad that no one cared about the Flying Batman captured on film. At least this wasn’t one of the evenings when David brought Richard home with him. He knew his jealousy over Richard wasn’t rational, but he couldn’t help it just the same. He’d been burning with curiosity the first night David had come in late with an older man, their arms full of papers and blueprints that David had spread out on the big kitchen table and weighed down with the salt and pepper shakers. David had been so animated, leaning across the table to point out something on the diagrams, and straightening with a grin to take a seductive swallow from his bottle of beer. Over time, Rodney had learned that the other man’s name was Richard, and though he was helping David in some way with his mysterious plans, Richard was more cautious and less optimistic than David was, a fact that Rodney found oddly soothing. Rodney watched David eat alone at the table, imaging himself sitting across from David and sharing a light dinner conversation. He hoped this would be one of the nights that David would decide to come up to the roof looking for him. Those were the best nights. David would grab a beer out of the fridge before heading up to the roof. Rodney would flee back to the safety of the shadows, breathless with anticipation as he waited for David to make an appearance. They always kept the conversation casual. David was cagey about revealing his plans (“I don’t want to jinx myself”), so he and Rodney usually spoke of the books that they’d read. The conversations were short, usually lasting no longer than it took David to finish his beer before he headed off on some new endeavor for the evening. Rodney didn’t mind; every moment that David was on the roof with him, there was a chance that David would see what he really was, so as much as he thrilled to the visits, he was relieved whenever David went back inside. Those moments were like bright splashes of color in Rodney’s otherwise black-and-white world. Tonight was different. Rodney could tell because shortly after dinner, David stood up and began to shed clothes on his way to the part of the apartment that Rodney couldn’t see, toeing out of his shoes, peeling his T-shirt over his head, and unbuckling his jeans to

shimmy out of them and leave them on the floor. Changing clothes clearly meant that David intended to go back out again tonight. Rodney nearly fell into the skylight craning down for a better look as David bent over to step out of his briefs. All that smooth, pale skin with just a scattering of dark body hair for contrast. Rodney wondered what that hair would feel like to his touch and whether it would be soft or coarse. Privately, he could admit to a certain fascination with David’s hair. It looked like it should be springy and with a certain recalcitrant life of its own, and Rodney’s fingers positively itched to know what it felt like. That, and the perpetual stubble on his face, as well as the dark hair on his strong forearms. David paused by the kitchen table to take off the chain around his neck and leave it there, his back toward the windows. By determined observation, Rodney had been able to identify the object on the chain as a cross; he often wondered what the significance of it was to David. Rodney couldn’t get over David’s compact perfection, so unlike Rodney’s own towering mass. He felt his mouth drop open as he admired the sleek lines of David’s body, unmarred by great, leathery wings or a prehensile tail that revealed every mood as plainly as though Rodney had spoken. The slope of his shoulder, so different from Rodney’s own, was muscular without being grotesque. Rodney wanted to reach out and touch him, to run his palm down David’s back, to follow the curve from shoulder to hipbones. His torso seemed oddly long, yet it suited him. Rodney thought of the animals he’d read about without ever seeing pictures of them. David reminded him of a cheetah, or at least as Rodney had imagined them. A warmth of feeling flushed over Rodney as he watched David move out of sight toward the back of the apartment, and Rodney glanced down at his cock. He was always erect; he never gave it much thought, but there was a different sensation teasing him now. As he watched, his cock made a sort of undulating movement, and the head flared. Damn. He’d read about this. He was turned on, aroused, for a better word, by the sight of David in all his casual nakedness. Tentatively, he reached down and grasped his shaft. He gasped slightly at the little shudder of pleasure that ran through him. Damn, he thought again. All this time, and he could have been feeling like this? With one hand, he continued to cling to the drainpipe above David’s skylight. With the other, he explored the length of his cock, his eyes closing, and his head dropping forward as he gave into the purely sensual experience of touching himself. His pelvis made a tentative tip forward, and he had to scrabble with his toes for purchase as reality came crashing back on him. As marvelous as these new sensations were, there was a time and a place for self-exploration, and hanging on to the side of the Freemont probably wasn’t the right place. Rodney opened his eyes reluctantly, ready to move back to the roof. Later tonight, perhaps, when David had gone to bed…. Unbidden, an image of David lying naked in his bed flashed into Rodney’s mind. He could see David as clearly as if there were a photograph in front of him—David sprawled out across his mattress, a sexy smile on his face as the white light of the full moon shone in through the window and coated his body with a silver sheen. Rodney looked down as his cock throbbed in his hand, and it jerked upward at his thoughts. Damn. This was a problem. After a hundred and fifty years or so of life, apparently Rodney had discovered an interest in sex. With a human. Well, that was a nice, realistic goal, he thought sourly. Rodney could feel a small amount of wetness at the end of his cock, something he’d never experienced before, and there was the smell of something musky and attractive in

the air. The wetness served to alleviate the drag of his hand against his skin. Eagerly, he rubbed his palm across the head for more lubrication. Rodney watched as he felt the inexplicable urge to roll his pelvis and thrust up into his hand, his thighs tightening and relaxing with the movement. He closed his eyes and let his head loll back, giving in completely to the sensations demanding his full attention. He could feel a mounting urgency build in his body, but he had no idea what he wanted or how to release the tension that he was feeling. It was all mixed up with the desire to run his hands across David’s skin and feel the fine hairs there, to bury his nose in the crook of David’s neck, to thrust up against him and sink his teeth into the muscle between David’s neck and shoulder. Rodney could picture himself doing this, even as his hand moved rapidly up and down his shaft with desperate need. He could hear David’s cry when Rodney’s teeth closed on his skin, could feel David arch up and back against him. The orgasm took him completely by surprise, swamping him with sensation. He had no choice but to stop stimulating himself and lean into the wall, breathing hard with flared nostrils and hanging on for dear life. The hand he brought up by his head to cling to the gutter was pungent with his own scent; his cock pulsed sleepily in response. Damn. So that was what all the fuss was about. He felt a moment of smug satisfaction, only to have it replaced by a sensation of extreme loneliness. Was it always like that? Somehow, he doubted it. Surely, the rush of endorphins, no matter how good they felt at the time, couldn’t possibly outweigh the depression that followed, if indeed, that was the norm. No, the difference had to be in experiencing the orgasm with someone else. That had to be what took it from a simple animal release into the sort of event that people described in lengthy poetry and prose. Pity he’d never know what that was like. He supposed this act made him some sort of voyeur, and he was ashamed that he’d used David in this way, though he scarcely knew himself what he was feeling. Face it, you’ve been a voyeur your whole life. The thought depressed him even more. He shook himself mentally and tested his ability to move. Yep. All within working order. He’d always suspected the described weakness post-orgasm to be a myth. In fact, he felt energized, as if he could go out and tackle the world. After a nap, of course. He was in the process of turning away from the wall so that he could unfold his wings without obstruction when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and saw that David had reentered the living room area. He was dressed in a suit and had shaved; as Rodney watched, he gathered up the blueprints on the table and rolled them into a cardboard canister. He unplugged the flash drive from his laptop and pocketed it; obviously, this was some sort of business meeting tonight. The idea that David was going out on business this late intrigued Rodney, and he remained where he was as David exited the apartment, his silhouette briefly outlined when David paused in the open door to turn off the lights. It had been easy to follow David on his late-night jogs, to glide silently from rooftop to rooftop, to monitor David’s progress on the streets and alleys below without being seen. Following him this evening would be a greater challenge.

What else do you have to do? Rodney acknowledged the truth of his inner voice and watched as David came out of the Freemont to hail a cab. Fixing the vehicle in his sights, Rodney lifted himself into the air and rose with long, great strokes of his wings until he was well above the buildings,

high enough that he wouldn’t readily be noticed from the streets, yet not so high that someone would scramble an Air Force fighter jet to check him out. The hard part, he realized, would be keeping his eye on the cab while still flying slow enough to track it through the busy evening traffic. The challenge would be good for him; he was spending too much time in his own head lately. “‘The wind is rushing after us, and the clouds are flying after us, and the moon is plunging after us, and the whole wild night is in pursuit of us; but, so far we are pursued by nothing else’,” Rodney quoted Dickens to himself as he flew.

In the end, it hadn’t proven to be as difficult as he’d thought it would be. People so seldom looked up, and if they heard the sibilant brush of his wings in passing, he had moved on before anyone could pinpoint the sound. The closest he’d come to being seen was when David had arrived at his destination. Rodney was just landing on the roof of the building where the cab had stopped; David was leaning in the window to pay the driver. When he straightened and began walking toward the entrance, he inexplicably looked up at the sky. Rodney had been forced to flatten himself against a ledge and try to look like part of the guttering. He’d released a sigh of relief when David gave a little shrug and went inside. The ensuing wait had proven boring and, despite the fact that Rodney was good at waiting, he’d been tempted to leave after a few hours. At least on his own rooftop, he had his things: books to read, his little treasures to take out and admire. He liked to make up stories about them—the playbill, the crystal, a series of adventures for the people who lived in the snow globe. He sometimes pictured himself as an author with his book of stories displayed in the window of the little bookstore down the street from the Freemont. It was merely another one of his daydreams. Tonight, however, his usual imaginings failed to engage him. It was as though the pathway to his private world was overgrown and choked with weeds. Worse, though he knew he held the key to the locked garden door, tonight it scarcely seemed worth the effort.

You’re just feeling your age. There hadn’t been much he could argue in that, and it struck him that it was as good a reason as any for not going back to the perch one day. It was a sobering thought. When David finally came out of the building, it was with the jaunty step of a man who was very pleased with his world, and Rodney assumed that the meeting had gone well. The streets were empty. David paused only long enough to look around briefly before walking up several blocks toward a busier intersection, where he obviously hoped to catch a cab. Rodney ghosted silently though the air behind him, leap-frogging from one building to another the way he sometimes did when he was following David on an evening run. He could have just gone back to the Freemont, but it pleased him to see David so happy. He enjoyed the easy gait with which David moved and the slightly off-key whistling that drifted up to his ears. He hoped this meant that David had a plan for his future that didn’t mean trying to please his father anymore. The attack occurred so swiftly, Rodney almost didn’t see it himself. A shadow detached itself from the shelter of an alley and swung down something hard against David’s back and shoulders. David dropped with a grunt of pain and lay sprawled facedown on the sidewalk. The man standing over him grabbed him by the ankles and hauled him back into the darkness of the alley. Rodney dived. He folded up his wings and plummeted down to the street level, his

eyes fixed on the spot where David had disappeared. He only pulled up at the last second to swing his feet forward and open his wings to break his momentum. He still landed hard, touching down with both feet and hands in a half-crouching position. He stood slowly, his wings outstretched in agitation, the tips brushing the walls of the alley on either side. His tail arched up over his shoulder, the tip quivering with the need to strike. He’d never been so angry in his entire life. The man who’d attacked David was kneeling beside him, rifling though his pockets, and shoving whatever he grabbed into his own. He’d paused just long enough to flip open David’s wallet and tip his head to peer at the contents in the dim light before throwing it down in disgust. He was reaching for the canister of blueprints when Rodney moved. He caught the mugger by the back of his jacket, his talons sinking into the man’s clothing, all the way down to the skin and underlying muscle. Rodney lifted him off his feet, even as he screamed and flailed blindly with a knife that Rodney hadn’t seen before. Rodney plucked the canister out of the thief’s hand and continued to suspend him in the air. “That doesn’t belong to you,” Rodney growled in the man’s ear before hurling him to the oily pavement. When the thief rolled over, his mouth opened and closed repeatedly as he gaped, stupefied, at the sight of Rodney standing there. He dropped the knife, crawling backward on his rump, desperately scooting away as he worked his mouth, trying to make some sort of sound come out. Tears coursed down his face, gleaming on his skin in the moonlight. Once he’d put a few yards between himself and Rodney, he scrambled to his feet and ran, a half-strangled gurgle of sound escaping his body as he fled. Rodney swiftly crossed back to David and crouched, balancing neatly on his toes as he touched David lightly on the shoulder. David groaned and shifted slightly. Relieved, Rodney blew out a sigh before frowning as he assessed the situation. Now what? David was obviously injured, and Rodney was in no position to take him to the nearest hospital. He had no idea who David had met that evening; knocking on doors to ask anyone if they knew David was out of the question. He thought of using David’s cell to call the police, but the thought of David lying in the alley until help arrived was deeply disturbing somehow. He’d just have to take David back to the Freemont. Yes, the more he thought about it, the better that idea sounded. He could fly him back, lower David into his rooms through the skylight, and then get some help. Knock on a neighbor’s door and run, if he had to— any risk was reasonable, as long as David got the help he needed. Decision made, he collected David into his arms, finding the laxity of David’s body more difficult to manage than he’d expected. David listed and spilled out of his arms like he was boneless, a fact that Rodney found creepy until David’s head tipped back against his shoulder. A shock of soft hair brushed Rodney’s face, and he couldn’t help it—he turned his nose into it and took a deep breath. The hair was still a touch damp and smelled of lemons and leather and newly mown fields of hay, with an undertone of honey and whiskey as well. David smelled fantastic. Somehow he staggered to his feet with David in his arms. “You’re heavier than you look,” he said to the back of David’s head. He frowned as he tried to lift off; there was simply not enough room in the alley to come to full wingspan, and it was going to be hard enough as it was to fly while carrying David.

In for a penny…. Hesitating only a moment, Rodney muscled David back out to the street and snapped his wings out to full length, bringing them down sharply. Their tips touched the sidewalk; the back draft caused bits of paper and debris to swirl around in little eddies and gather against the buildings. Again and again, he beat his wings down as the two of them slowly lifted off the ground. His center of gravity was off—David wanted to slither through his arms. In desperation, Rodney wrapped his legs around David to hold him in place as he tried to get them above building height. He even wrapped his tail around David as well, holding on with everything he had as they reached flying altitude and made their way slowly across the city. David shifted and struggled once, but Rodney held on tightly and whispered repeatedly in his ear, “You’re all right. You’re all right. I’ve got you—hold still.” To his surprise and relief, David quieted again. Rodney could feel the little tremors of fatigue in his arms when he finally spotted the rooftop of the Freemont. He had to uncoil himself from David long enough to touch down with his feet. They landed in an ungainly heap as Rodney overbalanced and they crashed to the roof. Rodney hurriedly rolled off David, afraid that he’d squashed him. David groaned, only to slump again. Not good, not good. The length of time that David had been unconscious was worrisome to Rodney. He thought furiously; he remembered the skylight had been shut when he was watching David earlier, so his previous thought of lowering David down through it was out, unless he wanted to break it. That was an option, he decided, but what other options did he have? He needed to see if the thief had taken David’s cell phone or not. David opened his eyes as Rodney was going through his pockets. “You’re an odd sort of mugger,” David said calmly, as though being robbed by a gargoyle was a common everyday occurrence. He squinted up at Rodney as though even the dim light on the roof hurt his eyes. “I’m not a thief,” Rodney said sharply, his heart thudding in his chest as David continued to look at him in a slightly unfocused fashion. He closed his hands around the items he’d been seeking and withdrew them from David’s pockets. “I’m here to help you. I was looking for your phone to call for help. You need a hospital.” “Don’t need a hospital.” David made a face and tried to sit up, only to give up with a wince. He brought his hand up toward the back of his neck, winced again, and let it drop onto his chest. “No, not a thief,” David said, as though clarifying something. There was another pause. Rodney was afraid that David had passed out again, but he was frowning at Rodney with terrible confusion on his face. “Rodney?” Something twisted painfully in Rodney’s chest. Despite knowing that he’d acted in order to save David, it still hurt him bitterly to know he’d just ruined his only friendship by revealing his true appearance to David. “Yes. Now shut up,” Rodney growled. “You’re hurt, and you need a hospital.” David blinked owlishly up at him. “You’re Yoda.” “I am not Yoda!” Rodney was indignant. His wings snapped up and partially opened. He knew his ears, now flaring out to the sides, could be mistaken for that ridiculous movie creation, and he flattened them against his head. He sat back on his heels. “I’m a gargoyle.” “You’re Yoda,” David insisted, still squinting. “Yoda on steroids. A kick-ass Yoda.” He

paused again, obviously giving this some deep thought. “You’re what Yoda should’ve been.” He turned his head carefully in an attempt to look around, but gave up when it obviously hurt him to do so. “Where am I?” “On the roof of the Freemont. You’ve been mugged.” David moved convulsively, reaching out beside him with a hand. “My papers!” “Don’t worry. They’re all here.” Rodney watched as David relaxed against the rough surface of the rooftop. “Look, you really need to get checked out by a doctor.” “I remember flying through the city. Did I really fly?” David raised an eyebrow at Rodney, who couldn’t help but grin. “I flew; you wallowed in my arms. Are you sure you’re all right?” “Fine, fine.” Eyes, closed, David flicked the fingers of the hand resting on his chest up and down, as though indicating his intention to get up any second now. Rodney cocked his head as he looked down at David. “I don’t know about that. You humans seem awfully fragile to me.” David opened his eyes again. “Fragile? What makes you say that?” “Well, your arms come off too easily, for one,” Rodney said thoughtfully. David’s eyebrows lifted in a startled expression, and he began to laugh, only to stop and clutch at his head. “Oh, ow. That hurts.” “See? Fragile.” Rodney was prepared to smugly rest his case when he realized that David had passed out again. An emotion that he’d never felt before nearly paralyzed him before he realized it was fear. David shouldn’t have passed out again like that, not if he was really okay. He needed to get David help, and fast. He opened his hands and stared down at the items within.

He was just using the key to unlock David’s apartment door when he heard the small snick of sound behind him. Rodney had been lucky so far; he knew that. He’d traversed the distance from the roof down the level of David’s apartment, the sound of his clawed feet echoing on the metal stairs as he clattered his way down the stairwell. He’d crept down the hallway to David’s door after a hasty glance in both directions from the safety of the stairwell door. Another few feet and he would have been safely inside, where he could open the skylight and fly back to the roof for David. It had been a daring plan, but a reasonable one, given the circumstances. The little old lady standing behind him couldn’t have been more than five feet tall. Her dark, curly wig was slightly askew on a head that was otherwise covered with gray peach fuzz. She wore heavy bifocal lenses and a burgundy pantsuit that had been fashionable in the 1970s. In her unsteady hands, she wielded a long-barreled revolver. A Colt .22, if Rodney was not mistaken. As he stared, the old woman used both thumbs to pull back the hammer, the movement making her hands shake even more. “Stop right there, buster,” she snarled. “I’ll have you know I’m a crack shot. What do you think you’re doing?” Rodney held up the keys. “Um, I have permission to be here?” “Oh, yeah, right. Try pulling the other one.” She shifted her weight to wave an ankle in his direction, her foot encased in a brand-new orthopedic shoe. “What are you, a demon?”

Rodney was getting tired of answering this question. “No,” he said through gritted teeth. “A gargoyle. Look.” He interrupted her before she could speak again. “I’m a friend of David’s, okay? He got mugged tonight, and I’m just helping him get back to his apartment.” “He’s right.” David’s voice caught both of them off guard, and the old woman whipped her gun in David’s direction. He was leaning against the wall, one hand on the back of his neck, his suit rumpled and smudged with oil. He had the canister slung over one shoulder by its strap. His eyes opened wide when the gun turned toward him, and Rodney almost threw himself between David and the weapon, but he was afraid any sudden movement would cause the old woman to fire. David straightened quickly and held up his hands at chest height. “Easy there, Sadie.” Sadie pursed her lips and released the hammer, shoving the Colt unceremoniously into the giant purse on her shoulder. “You should tell your friend to put on some clothes, David. He shouldn’t be walking the halls with that great big schlong hanging out like that.” Sadie waved a hand in irritation toward Rodney. David turned bright red; even his ear tips were red, Rodney noted. “I’m sure it won’t happen again, right, Rodney?” “Right.” Rodney turned his back on the surreal conversation behind him to unlock the door. He pushed it open and stepped aside with a flourish. “After you.” He handed the keys back to David. David gave him an unfathomable look as he shouldered past Rodney into his apartment, his color still high. “Madam,” Rodney said, giving Sadie a little bow. He followed David into the apartment with the utmost dignity, his tail draped over one arm as he shut the door behind him.

David came to rest at the kitchen table, peeling the strap off his shoulder and dropping the canister to the floor so he could let the table hold him up. He lifted his head to watch as Rodney entered the small, radiant glow cast by the light over the stove. Toenails ticked on the smooth surface of the hardwood flooring, and if toenails could sound tentative, then Rodney’s certainly did. The claws were black and caught the gleam of the ambient lighting as though they’d been polished. Rodney walked upright on his toes like a dog, the heel of his foot elongated and rising up from his foot like a horse’s hock. His skin was moss green in color and had a sheen to it that made David think it would feel like fine leather. Rodney’s legs were muscular and strong; David’s memory flashed back to the sight of Rodney crouching beside him on the rooftop, sitting on his haunches effortlessly. Well, he probably had a lot of practice doing that. An inappropriate giggle threatened to make its way out of David’s throat, and he had to beat back the temptation to burst out laughing. He sobered quickly when he realized the enormous power of the being standing in front of him. David followed the line created by Rodney’s legs up to the rest of his body. “Six-pack abs” was a phrase that David had heard bandied about the gym and among his friends, but he’d never really appreciated what that had meant before. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on Rodney, and the muscles of his belly corded and bunched so that each isolated grouping was clearly apparent. His waist and hips were the narrowest part of his body; his chest widened above his belly to include broad shoulders, each muscle clearly

visualized there as well. His dark green nipples fascinated David; he swallowed hard before continuing his visual assessment. Rodney had tucked his wings in close to his body in order to enter the apartment, but David could see the hinge-like joints and the great expanse of skin across them. And then there was the matter of what Sadie referred to as his schlong. David had never seen such detail on a stone gargoyle, but there was no mistaking that Rodney was a living, breathing being with functional anatomy—not with a cock like that. Like everything else about Rodney, it was huge. It also was erect, with a bullet-shaped hood of foreskin that made it look very much like an arrowhead. David thought briefly about what it would be like to be nailed by something like that, and he felt a warm flush steal over his face again. There was something very pleasing to the eye in the symmetry of Rodney’s cock and the balance of his balls, and David suddenly realized he was staring. He jerked his gaze upward to Rodney’s face. The uncertainty there in Rodney’s expression made David catch his breath. Rodney was hunched a little, as though afraid of breaking something if he moved. His ears, which were decidedly Yoda-like, no matter what he said, drooped at the tips. Rodney’s gaze, green and intense, flicked around to the sides, taking in the apartment before coming back to rest on David’s face. He took the end of his tail, and despite the fact that he already had something in his hands, he began to fiddle nervously with the tip. This time, David did laugh. Rodney frowned. “What’s so funny?” He looked really irritated now, and David realized that it probably would be smart not to piss off the giant gargoyle. The sarcastic gargoyle who read books and had probably just saved his life. He took the chance anyway. “You,” he said with a grin, indicating the tail. “You with that gesture. You reminded me of the Cowardly Lion. And there’s nothing cowardly about you.” Rodney released his tail abruptly, but his expression lightened briefly before it became puzzled again. “Don’t you find this whole situation just the slightest bit odd? Most people who catch a glimpse of me end up weeping and making all kinds of crazy promises to the deity of their choice. You’re the first person who’s ever even heard me before. Now, all the sudden, I’m having casual conversations with people left and right, and no one is freaking out. Well, except for your mugger, that is. I sort of wanted him to freak out, though.” “Sadie doesn’t scare easily,” David drawled, enjoying the absurdity of the whole evening immensely and picturing what his mugger must have looked like. He wondered if the sorry bastard had wet his pants. “Besides, you know how the city is. Anything goes.” He decided to leave out the part about how Sadie was nearly as blind as a bat. “What about you?” Rodney’s ears wilted further, and his wings seemed to fold in protectively around his shoulders. “Well, I got hit in the head,” David said slowly. “So everything was a little muzzy at first. By the time I realized I wasn’t really seeing things, I already knew it was you. And I know you. You’re the guy from the roof. We’ve talked about books, for crying out loud. How can I be afraid of you?” Rodney rocked back on his toes as though staggered by David’s words. A shy, crooked smile teased at his lips before it faded. “I finished the Sherlock Holmes collection, by the way. It was fantastic. I’ll leave it on the roof for you. I should be going now. You need to get to the hospital.” David loathed the thought of Rodney leaving. He had a funny feeling it would be the

last time he saw Rodney if he did. “I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor.” “Yes, you do,” Rodney snapped, folding his arms across his chest. His wings lifted out from his body slightly, and he looked immense in the small apartment. “I’m not an idiot, you know. I read the papers. I know how deceptive head trauma can be in you humans. You need to get completely checked out. You’re getting a CAT scan. I’ve already called someone to come get you.” He held out his hand, opening the palm to reveal David’s cell phone. David stepped forward and took it automatically before it registered with him that Rodney had used his phone. “You what? Who’d you call?” “I called someone named ‘Sean’. It was the first name on the ‘emergency contact’ list.” Rodney spoke almost primly, like a lecturing professor, and David wanted to laugh again. It could have been worse. “He’s my brother. What on earth did you tell him?” Rodney shrugged, an oddly human gesture for one so alien. “The truth, basically. That you’d been mugged and were back at your apartment but refusing to go to the hospital. He’s on his way now.” “Shit,” David muttered. “No, no, you did the right thing.” He waved off Rodney’s sudden look of concern. “I just really don’t want to deal with my family at the moment.” “You’re lucky to have family,” Rodney said. “I have to make up my own.” Before David could respond to that intriguing statement, the buzzer rang loud and long as someone leaned on it. “Shit!” David looked around for a hiding place and failed to find one. “Quick, hide in the bedroom or something!” Rodney started suddenly, turning to look back at the door in agitation, and one of his wings brushed the countertop, sending a glass crashing into the sink. “David?” A heavy pounding rattled the door. “Are you all right? I’m coming in!” David gripped Rodney by the arms to squeeze past him at the entranceway to the room, his fingers inadvertently caressing Rodney’s warm, silky skin before he called out to Sean. “I’m fine, damn it. Keep your shirt on, Sean.” The doorknob was turning even as he reached for it himself. Shit, he’d forgotten he’d given Sean a key. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Rodney standing like a statue against the wall of the living room, wings folded around his body, his tail wrapped around his legs, those amazing, glowing eyes closed. Sean came barreling into the apartment, key in hand, only to pull up short at the sight of David. “Holy crap, David, you look like shit. Are you okay?” Sean reached out to place a hand on David’s arm before David pulled away. “I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with, okay?” Sean made a wry face at him. “I’m surprised you’re agreeing to go. I guess that friend of yours—what’s his name?—Rodney, talked some sense in you. I wouldn’t hold my breath about getting back here soon though. You know what the ER will be like tonight. You want to tell me what happened?” “I’ll fill you in on the way.” David checked his belongings: cell phone, keys…. He glanced back at Rodney again. “What the fuck is that?” Sean asked, pointing in Rodney’s direction. “A gargoyle,” David said with precision, hoping Rodney could hear and appreciate the

imitation. Sean shook his head. “Where the hell did you get that? Doesn’t it give you the creeps to have that in here?” “I know the sculptor,” David said shortly. “And for your information, I think he’s beautiful.” One of Rodney’s eyelids jerked, as though Rodney were resisting the impulse to open it. “He’s certainly… impressive,” Sean agreed, turning back toward the door as David followed. “Anatomically correct too. Dad would be so proud.” David punched him on the arm as they left the apartment.

Rodney wasn’t there when he returned. David wasn’t surprised; the first pinkish streaks of dawn had painted the sky as he exited the hospital, yawning. He’d waved off Sean’s offer of a ride back to his apartment, preferring to catch a cab. He knew Sean had to go home to shower and change for work anyway. He appreciated the fact that Sean had stayed with him the entire time. There’d been no need for that. The scans had been clear, and David had been given some painkillers that looked like they’d choke a horse, with a prescription for more to fill if needed. He envisioned a long, hot shower and a day on the couch in his future. He’d hoped to find some evidence of Rodney in his apartment when he finally returned, something to assure him that Rodney had not been a figment of his imagination, but there was nothing. The only indication that someone had been there was the fact that the skylight was partially open when David entered his apartment. Even then, David couldn’t be sure he hadn’t left it open the night before. It gave him something to think about during the long day while he alternated between dozing on the couch and searching for anything he could find on the internet about gargoyles. There wasn’t much. Toward sunset, David climbed the stairs and let himself out on the roof. He’d been up there in daylight before, had admired the view, and even examined the gargoyles mounted there, but never with the purpose of seeing if he recognized one of them before. It didn’t take him long to spot Rodney. Though the stone was disconcertingly more weathered than he’d expected, Rodney’s features were all there, down to the suggestion of that little crooked smile. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Rodney’s face when the sun set. He was leaning on the balustrade, wanting to look deceptively casual when Rodney opened his eyes, when he heard the sound. Slight at first, just a faint creak, as though there was the suggestion of something gritty shifting somewhere nearby. David frowned, trying to locate the source, when he heard the groan of a metal support bending and the loud crack of splitting concrete. He leaned out over the railing and looked down in horror. Rodney’s base was breaking free from the building. Without thinking, he reached out and grasped hold of one of Rodney’s wings, bracing his feet against the balustrade when he felt the large weight shift beneath his hands. Desperate to hold on and knowing it was an impossible task, he felt the roughened surface of Rodney’s body pulling inexorably out from under his fingers, biting into flesh as it dragged away. The stretch across his back and shoulders reawakened every muscle that had been dulled by medication into full-blown agony.

“Rodney!” he yelled. “Wake up!” The sun was a bright ball of red in the sky, sinking slowly behind the skyline, highlighting the buildings like a row of jagged teeth. David only had to hang on a few moments longer, he was sure. He was equally sure that he could not. Rodney opened his eyes. Alarmed, he tried to peel David’s hand off his wing. “Let go!” he shouted as the entire base beneath him dropped sharply by half a foot. “I’m not going to let you fall!” David shouted back, fingers digging in. “I can fly, you idiot!” Rodney snapped. Chagrined, David let go just as the base broke completely free of the wall and went crashing to the sidewalk below. David threatened to overbalance and fall as well, gripping the wall fiercely and pulling himself upright before he did so. Rodney spread his wings and flapped them twice. They both watched as the base went cascading to the ground. There was the squealing of tires and honking horns, even as Rodney hovered for a second midair, before he grabbed the wall and swung nimbly over the edge. He immediately hunkered down behind the balustrade out of sight. “You look,” he said to David, covering his eyes with one hand. “Tell me what’s going on.” David peered over the edge and then dropped down beside Rodney, sitting with his back to the wall as well. It could have been worse. A couple of crunched fenders from cars stopping so abruptly, but no one had been crushed by the falling concrete. “Ah, well, that’s going to be on the evening news. Come on, we’d better get inside before the police show up.” He grinned as he reached down for Rodney’s hand, enjoying the startled look on his face.

It did not seem odd at all to be inside David’s apartment again. It seemed right somehow. At least Rodney was going to live out one of his fantasies before his existence ended, the one where he and David sat around in the evenings, discussing topics of major importance. He eyed David’s furniture. Provided it didn’t collapse under his weight, that is. “I feel like an idiot,” David said, briefly inspecting his fingertips before rolling a shoulder carefully with a grimace. “Of course you can fly. Have a seat.” He indicated a chair. “You want something to drink?” He headed into the kitchen area and opened the fridge, pulling out a couple of bottles of beer and holding them up by the necks with a questioning expression. It was all so normal that Rodney wanted to cry. He silently accepted the proffered beer and watched as David twisted off the cap, flicking it expertly into the nearby trashcan. He took a generous swallow, and Rodney watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with the movement. Rodney cautiously sat down in the large chair beside the couch, taking a moment to figure out what to do with his wings and deciding it was best to leave them partially spread to hang over the arms of the chair. David threw himself down on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “I was really worried about you. I thought you were a goner.” The look on David’s face invited Rodney to laugh at David’s ridiculous assumption along with him. “Had I fallen in my stone form, I would have died.” Rodney admired the matter-of-fact

manner in which he spoke. “As it is, there is nothing for me to return to in the morning.” David froze in the act of lifting the bottle to his lips again. “What does that mean for you?” Rodney shrugged. “I cease to exist.” “What?” David sat up straight, placing his feet back on the floor and setting the bottle down with a thump on the table. “What are you saying, Rodney?” Rodney sighed. “That this is my last night on Earth.” “Well, fuck that,” David growled, his previous affability morphing suddenly into something angry and lethal. “Can’t we just get some stuff and repair it? I mean, how hard can it….” His voice trailed off when he realized the impossibility of the task being completed before dawn. There was no way concrete could set in time to hold up something of Rodney’s mass in his stone form. He could see David grappling for ideas and rejecting each one in turn as their flaws became apparent to him. “Rodney,” he said helplessly, when he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Rodney was touched that this affected him so. David’s expression was almost unbearable, however. “No matter.” Rodney set down the unopened bottle of beer on the coffee table. “I’ve been around a long time. It hasn’t been all bad. As a matter of fact, knowing you has been the best part of it.” Rodney smiled, conscious of how glittering and tight his expression must be. “‘It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known’.” The look on David’s face at the quotation was painful to see. How was it that he’d never thought about the people that the hero of a story left behind? You’ve never had anyone to leave behind before. The realization was a moment of perfect joy and heartbreak. “Rodney.” David leaned forward until he could rest his hand on Rodney’s arm. “Is there anything I can do?” He smoothed his fingers over Rodney’s skin. No one had ever touched Rodney so intimately before, and it made him tremble slightly. “I have a few personal belongings hidden in a cubby on the roof. They’re not much, but they’re important to me. I’d like someone to have them. Or do something with them. Or… something.” Rodney trailed off lamely, biting at his lip. “Of course.” David agreed, his expression shuttered and self-protecting. Rodney couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “What about… I mean, what do you….” David stopped, sighed, and tried again. “What do you want to do? Tonight, I mean?” There were so many answers to that. Rodney wanted to eat ice cream at noon in Central Park. He wanted to ride the subway like everyone else and sit in the front row of a Broadway play. He wanted to play a pickup game of basketball and go dancing at a club downtown. Rodney snorted. “It might be easier to say what I don’t want to do.” David nodded as though he really understood and picked up his beer again. “Pick one thing. Just one thing. We’ll do it. I promise.” He pointed at Rodney with the bottle before taking another drink. “I want to have sex with you.” David spit beer in a fine spray out into the room. “I take that as a ‘no’,” Rodney said, trying not to let his disappointment show. David wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and set the bottle of beer down again. “Are you serious? Because it’s not that I don’t want to—it’s that I don’t know how.” David gestured toward Rodney in general with a little uncertain movement of his hand.

“Really?” Rodney beamed at him. “I don’t know how either.” “No, wait, I know how,” David said with emphasis. He ran a hand distractedly through his hair as he thought about how to phrase his next sentence. “I just don’t know how with —you know. You.” “Oh.” Rodney fell silent again. “Not that I don’t want to try.” David offered hesitantly. “Okay.” Rodney caught himself drumming his fingertips on the arm of the chair and willed them to stop. David stood up. Cutting a glance in Rodney’s direction, he leaned over and swung aside the end of the coffee table, making room for himself at Rodney’s feet. Suddenly breathless with expectation, Rodney sank down slightly in the overstuffed chair, unconsciously spreading his thighs farther apart. He gave a little shuddering sigh when David placed a hand on each knee as he eased himself to the floor. With a quick smile up at him, David reached forward and placed his palm around the shaft of Rodney’s cock. Rodney’s cock leapt forward to meet him, the tip flaring out into a hood as it strained upward. David rocked back on his heels a moment, his eyes opening wide. “Wow,” he breathed, never taking his gaze off of Rodney’s dick. “Does it always do this?” “Only when I think about you,” Rodney confessed. David shot him a startled look that quickly shifted into something else. His lids dropped half-closed as he gave Rodney a little smile. “Okay, that’s pretty hot,” he admitted, slowly moving his hand up and down. It felt so good. Rodney closed his eyes and just experienced the moment. The warmth of David’s hand suddenly withdrew, and Rodney snapped his eyelids open again. “Hang on a sec.” David was rummaging in the drawer of the coffee table. “This will help.” He opened a small, clear bottle and poured a viscous substance into his hand. “Lube,” he explained. “There’s, um, quite a lot of you here. I can only take care of so much.” If he’d thought the sensation of David’s hand on his cock was amazing before, it was nothing compared to the way it felt when David wrapped his slick palm around Rodney’s shaft and began to slide it up and down again. Rodney could feel the blood surging into his cock, bringing it to full hardness as it darkened in color and the veins stood out on the sides. “Fuck, yeah,” David breathed, nostrils flaring, and Rodney realized that he was aroused as well. David was turned on by jacking him, and Rodney had never experienced anything so perfect in his life. Until David closed his mouth over the end of Rodney’s cock. That was the most perfect sensation in the universe. Rodney felt the end of his cock swell in response to the enveloping warm heat, and David made a little choking sound as he steadied it with his hand. Rodney started to pull back, afraid of hurting David, but to his amazement, David mouthed him eagerly, trying to take as much of him in as possible. He pumped his hand up and down the shaft, a subvocal moan vibrating around Rodney’s cock, even as the sound of it reached Rodney’s ears. David leaned forward on his knees, breathing hard through his nostrils, his cheeks hollowed out as he applied suction. Rodney watched his every movement with fascination, thighs clenching when David let the end of Rodney’s cock slip out of his mouth with a small moist plop. David rubbed his lips over the tip, licking it and wetting it with his saliva, sitting back to catch his breath as he pumped the shaft even faster.

“God, you’re so beautiful, you know that?” David murmured, concentrating on the movement of his hand on Rodney’s cock. “So fucking amazing.” He leaned down to take Rodney in again, working his lips over the end of Rodney’s cockhead and using the base of his tongue to stroke its underside vigorously. Rodney could feel the tension mounting in his body. He’d read of roller coasters and the way the cars would climb on the tracks ever higher, their occupants in breathless anticipation of the freefall to come. That was how he felt, yet each time he thought he was approaching the summit, David would pull off him breathlessly, changing tactics and administering a new sensation with his mouth and fingers until he’d recovered enough to suck Rodney down again. When David took one of Rodney’s balls in his mouth, Rodney inadvertently flapped half-open wings, causing him to lift out of the chair. The action caused several books to fall over as his wingtip brushed the shelves, and the tall reading lamp beside the chair bobbled dangerously. Embarrassment flamed through Rodney when David went red-faced with laughter. “No, no.” David gripped him by the knees when Rodney started to stand. “It’s just that no one’s ever tried to fly when I sucked them off before.” His smile was so engaging that Rodney realized his amusement was a result of pleasure, and not at Rodney’s expense. He picked up where he left off with gusto, surrounding Rodney’s cock with mouth and hands once more, striking a pace and rhythm that made Rodney want to cry out yes, yes, and he was surprised when he realized he was growling those words. “Now,” he said urgently, and David pulled off abruptly, still working his slick hand briskly up and over the end. The orgasm Rodney had experienced before was nothing compared to the one he had now at David’s hands. His hips bucked uncontrollably twice as the orgasm roared through him. David’s hand didn’t slow; he continued to work Rodney’s cock as the warm fluid spurted out over his fingers. Rodney threw his head back in the chair and rode out the sensations, his wings in full extension and shuddering as his cock continued to pulse and throb. His right wing knocked the lamp back against the wall, only to have it slip sideways and lean crazily along the arm of the couch. His left wing swept the shelf beside the chair, raining books into a pile on the floor. Finally, he placed a hand over David’s, slowing him down and marveling at the contrast between the colors of their skins. He admired, too, the fine dark hair along David’s arms and backs of his hands. Rodney had never realized before just how much hair humans had; it seemed like a wondrous extravagance to him. David rested his cheek against Rodney’s thigh. He looked as blown as though it had been he who had just come, and Rodney was filled with a smug satisfaction that he’d reduced David to this state. His lips were swollen and wet with saliva, and it was imperative that Rodney kiss him right now. Carefully keeping his claws in check, he grabbed David by his shirt and pulled him up. David came up off his knees willingly, leaning into Rodney’s chest and opening his mouth as their lips met. Rodney felt a surge of some unfamiliar emotion at the contact; he couldn’t get enough of David. He shifted his grip to take hold of David’s head, holding him steady as he eagerly pushed and thrust with his tongue. The warm slide and movement of tongue and lips was addictive and heady; Rodney already wanted more. A solitary book, precariously balanced on the shelf, dropped to the floor with a thud. David broke off the kiss to laugh breathlessly at Rodney. “Damn.” A rueful expression crept over his face. “I wish now I’d started with something else. I’ve been thinking all day

about what it would be like to have you fuck me.” “And this is a problem because?” Rodney’s tail sneaked up behind David’s shoulder to caress his cheek, causing David to jerk briefly at the contact before he realized what it was. David’s eyelids half-closed at the touch of the tail tip, and his expression became sleepy and seductive. He tilted his head slightly as Rodney’s tail tip curled up alongside his ear. He appeared to be enjoying the contact very much. “Well, there’s this little problem known as recovery time.” “What’s that?” Rodney asked in all seriousness. David looked down at Rodney’s cock, nestled in between them. Rodney looked down as well; his cock was as hard as ever and, as they watched, made an undulating movement toward David. “Never mind.” David’s voice was filled with awe and anticipation. He pushed himself up to his feet. “Bedroom’s this way.” He moved off without waiting to see if Rodney was following.

“Where are you going?” The voice behind him made Rodney turn abruptly; he only just missed knocking over the floor lamp with his wings. David stood in the center of the room, the gray half-light of early dawn defusing through the skylight above. He was naked, save for the cross he wore around his neck. His cock jutted half-erect out from a patch of black hair. He rubbed one eye sleepily as he looked at Rodney with accusation, his hair messy and disheveled. He was utterly gorgeous. Rodney glanced up at the skylight. The darkness was lifting; the light in the sky was getting stronger. It had been his intention to be on the roof when the first streaks of dawn broke over the skyline of the city. He looked back at David. “I was leaving before the sun came up,” he said gently. “Without a word? Just like that?” David was obviously pissed now. “I’m sorry. I just—” Rodney broke off to indicate the surrounding apartment. “Well, no one knows what happens to gargoyles when they die. The presumption, however, is that we turn to dust. I didn’t want you to wake to find that.” “You thought I’d rather wake to find that I’d missed you altogether, huh? Is that it? You didn’t think I’d want to say goodbye? Not after last night? You didn’t think I wanted to be there? When you—you know. Died.” David’s last words were somewhat strangled. Rodney sighed. “I didn’t want you to have to haul out the vacuum cleaner on my behalf.” He watched as David stared stony-faced back at him. “Okay, I wanted to be on the roof when it happened, all right?” He didn’t add that he wanted to fly one more time, that he wanted to lift his wings and soar upward into the sky, because what he really wanted to do was cling to David’s body for the remainder of the night, holding on to the one thing that made him feel alive. “Right,” David said tightly. “I’ll meet you on the roof.” Rodney squeezed out of the open skylight, noting that it wasn’t any easier than it had been the night before and definitely not what he’d pictured in his daydreams. Well, nothing was that simple, right? He flew slowly up toward the roof, landing with reluctance on the

familiar surface. Maybe it would be better for both of them if he just flew off into the rising sun. The temptation to give into to the impulse was strong, but he decided against it. David deserved better than that.

Who are you kidding? You just want David to be with you when it happens. He crossed over to his stash of treasures, crouching to remove the panel and extract them from their hiding place. Not much of a legacy to leave behind, when he considered it. He thought of the conversation that he and David held in bed the night before. David had told him of his plans for the future—plans to restore old buildings to their former glory and preserve the past instead of tearing them down to make way for the new. He heard the regret in David’s voice that he hadn’t discovered the flaw in Rodney’s base in time to do something about it; that couldn’t be changed now. At least he could give his things to someone who would understand what they’d meant to him. He was holding them in his hands when David came onto the roof, dressed in a white cotton shirt over his jeans. He’d left his shirt untucked, sleeves rolled up to the elbow; bare ankles peeked out over the tops of his shoes. The early morning breeze caught the edges of the shirt and gave Rodney a tantalizing glimpse of David’s abdomen beneath the cloth; he knew exactly what that skin felt and tasted like now. David looked absolutely delicious, and Rodney felt a surge of satisfaction that he knew just how delicious David really was. David crossed over to his side and halted uncertainly. “Here.” Rodney held out his things. “Your Sherlock Holmes book. The rest of my stuff as well. Just a few odds and ends. Junk, really. It’s all I have, though.” David took the items as though they were precious valuables and sat down crosslegged on the rooftop to examine them. He formed a little pile in front of him and motioned for Rodney to join him. Rodney crouched down on his haunches and watched as David examined his belongings, turning them over with his beautiful hands. Rodney knew exactly what those hands were capable of doing, and he smiled in remembrance. “Tell me about them,” David demanded. Rodney picked up each item, one at a time, and related its story, ever conscious of the lightening of the sky around them. David picked up the copy of A Tale of Two Cities. It fell open to a marked page. David began to read aloud. “‘The night comes on dark. He moves more; he is beginning to revive, and to speak intelligibly; he thinks they are still together; he asks him, by his name, what he has in his hand. O pity us, kind Heaven, and help us! Look out, look out, and see if we are pursued’.” He looked up sharply when he’d finished, obviously struggling with a myriad of emotions. He set the book down and unfolded the bookmark. “You kept my note,” he said incredulously. Rodney merely shrugged. David looked up at the sky, his mouth tightening, before he went back to his catalog of items again. When he got to the crystal pendant, David frowned. He took the necklace from Rodney’s hand, turning it over carefully. “Where’d you say you found this?” Rodney told him of the glitter that caught his eye on an evening so cold it took even Rodney’s breath away, beckoning him to come down from the sky and fish it out from the storm drain. “Rodney,” David said slowly. “If I’m not mistaken, this is a very valuable diamond necklace that was reported stolen a few months ago.”

“It’s yours now.” Rodney drew a nonsensical pattern with one claw in the fine gravel dusting the rooftop. It was of no importance to him anymore. David just gaped at him. Rodney smiled at his expression and, feeling the need to speak while he still could, plunged into a stilted confession. “It’s been a good life, you know? I got better than I expected. Better than I deserved. I want to thank you for that.” David’s face folded in on itself, as though he’d received a physical blow. “Look, Rodney. Who’s to say what will happen next to you, right? It might not be as bad as you think.” Rodney smiled indulgently at David. “At least let me say goodbye.” “No.” David frowned. He dropped the necklace abruptly. “No,” he repeated. “Damn it, Rodney, this can’t be goodbye!” David’s denial was amusing, comforting, and painful all at the same time. “But it is,” Rodney said gently. The sun was a thin, red sliver in the sky now; the clouds picked up its light and began to reflect it in great bands of color that washed across the sky. He’d never truly watched the sun rise before. It was beautiful. He felt a touch on his arm, and he looked down to see David’s hand gripping his bicep. He smiled at David as the first beams of light crested over the building skyline and caressed his face. He could feel the change coming over him, the nauseating twist inside his body, as though something were melting and withering away his strength. He couldn’t look at David anymore; he didn’t want his last thoughts to be filled with the sorrow on David’s face. He lifted his wings involuntarily, as if to fly away from what was happening to him, only to have them shudder and crumble into dust. He’d suspected all along that this was what would happen to him, but it broke his heart just the same. “David,” he said suddenly, unable to be strong anymore. David closed his arms around him. His breath tickled in Rodney’s ear when he whispered, “It’s okay; I’ve got you.” It was worth it, all of it, just for this moment. The moment passed, and Rodney shivered in the morning breeze. He lifted his head from David’s shoulder and stared down at his hands in disbelief. His skin was no longer green; his talons were gone. In their place were ordinary-looking human hands, a fine dusting of golden hair catching the light of the morning sun. Rodney gasped and squinted up at the sky. It was full-on daylight now, and he was still here. David reacted to his movement by breaking off his hug and looking up into Rodney’s face. “Oh, wow,” he exclaimed stupidly. “Your eyes are blue. Really blue.” “What?” Rodney extricated himself from David’s embrace and stood up. He stared down at his pale-skinned, hairy legs, his mouth agape. His cock seemed absurdly small, his balls pink, soft, and vulnerable. Thank heavens he was still reasonably muscular. David stood as well. “You’re blond,” he said with a little shake of his head. He grinned widely, a ridiculous expression if Rodney had ever seen one. It made David look like a dork, and Rodney had every intention of telling him that, only David wasn’t finished speaking. “You’re human. Damn, you’re hot in this form too.” David pushed at his shoulder, and Rodney was surprised at how strong that movement felt. He cranked his head over his shoulder to look at his wings, but nothing was there, just a smooth expanse of pale skin. Rodney jerked his head around to look at David again. “Welcome to humanity.” David smacked him on the shoulder, and Rodney flinched. That hurt. He flexed his fingers, looking down at his hand with its blunt-tipped fingernails

in awe. “We’d better get you inside,” David said practically. “Before Sadie tries to shoot you. Again.” Rodney followed him numbly back to the apartment. David’s words washed over him as he sat down in the overstuffed chair. “We’ll need to set you up with an identity. Is there anything in particular you’d like to do? Something you’ve always fantasized about?” David piled Rodney’s treasures in a stack on the coffee table. Rodney looked up out of his bemused daze. “What are you blathering on about?” David grinned as he sat down on the couch across from Rodney. “You need an identity. A background. A job. You’re going to have to earn a living, you know. It won’t be easy, but we’ll need to create a past for you, one that doesn’t include hanging from the side of buildings.” Rodney was still trying to take it all in. “I’ll need a place to stay,” he said, the terrible circumstances in which he found himself just now starting to sink in. David looked wounded. “You’re staying here. Unless you don’t want to, that is.” Relief coursed through him like a flash flood in a narrow canyon. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. Part of him cautioned against taking advantage of David’s generosity, but he told that part of his brain to shut the fuck up. A gargoyle didn’t become a human every day. One thing at a time. “What are friends for?” David quipped. He reached over and patted Rodney on the shoulder. Rodney’s cock, formerly quiescent against his thigh, shifted at the contact. Rodney looked down at it. It was certainly thicker than he’d expected. He wondered how long it would be before it could reach a rate of full arousal. The fact that he even thought about that right now embarrassed him. A sudden wave of heat flared over his skin, and he was alarmed when he looked down at his chest and saw how pink he’d become. “I feel a little weird.” He cradled his head in his hands, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. It occurred to him that Fred knew all about this feeling, and if he ever saw the bastard again, he intended to kick his ass for not sharing the information. David frowned at him. “You do look flushed. We should see if you’re running a fever.” He got up and headed off into the bedroom area. Rodney could hear him rummaging around in the bathroom before he came back with a thermometer in hand. “Open up,” he said, holding the thermometer in front of Rodney’s lips. Rodney obliged, feeling ridiculous as he sat naked on David’s chair, his lips tightly clamped around the thermometer. This was terrible. What was he going to do as a human? He didn’t know how to be a human. When the thermometer beeped, David took it out and read it. “Normal.” He seemed relieved as he placed it on the table. “I think you were just embarrassed, you know? Or maybe excited. This is a pretty exciting moment when you think of it.” David looked pleased on his behalf. Rodney nodded. He didn’t know what he should be feeling right now. It was all so mixed up and strange and nothing like what he had expected. “Come on, Rodney,” David said. “The world is your oyster. Think of it! You can do anything you’ve always wanted. What’ll it be?” “I want to go to a bookstore.” Though he made it a statement, he ended on a questioning note. Rodney was afraid David would laugh at him.

He did. “Okay, not what I was expecting.” David’s grin was contagious, though. “But fair enough. Bookstore it is.” He pulled Rodney up by the hand. “And the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I want to go to the Met.” Rodney spoke with more confidence as he stood beside David. “Oh, and can we eat at that grill a few streets over? The one with the barbecued ribs that smell so good. It’d be nice to go to a dance club too. Do people go clubbing anymore?” He felt like the veriest tourist in a city that he’d lived in for decades. He could hardly contain his excitement, and he pulled David by the arm toward the door. “Whoa, Rodney.” David balked suddenly, slipping out of his grip. Rodney frowned at him. Okay, maybe it was being a little presumptuous, assuming that David would want to spend his day taking Rodney around the city. David probably had more important things to do, things Rodney would have to start worrying about soon, like paying the bills and putting food on the table. The idea panicked him just a little, and he rapidly told himself that he’d think about that tomorrow. Scarlett O’Hara would be proud. So what was David’s problem? “Clothes.” David indicated Rodney’s naked state. “Not that I mind seeing you in the buff like this, because damn, you look good.” He gave Rodney an appreciative onceover. “But the Sadies of this world might object.” Rodney looked down at himself. “You think I look good?” David’s chuckle was warm and inviting. Rodney’s cock began to fill at the memory of the night before. Finally. He was beginning to wonder. This was going to take some getting used to. “You were magnificent as a gargoyle, but as a human?” David just shook his head. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” He chewed at his lower lip, obviously embarrassed. He added with a little shake of his head, “Come on, we’d better find you something to wear. Though I’m not sure what. You’re a lot broader in the shoulders than I am.” He flicked a glance at Rodney’s cock, and Rodney could tell he wanted to say something else but had chickened out at the last second. “Wait.” Rodney stopped David as he headed back into the bedroom again. David looked back inquiringly at him. Rodney took a deep breath. “I think I’d like a raincheck on going out just yet.” David raised an eyebrow at him. Rodney let his smile form slowly over his features. “Well, it’s just a little after dawn. I’m guessing not much is open yet and won’t be for hours. Seems to me we might as well go back to bed for a while.” David nodded, slowly shaking a finger in Rodney’s direction. “That’s a very good plan.” He grinned as Rodney moved closer to him. “Who knows? This time we might not break anything either.” “You said you always hated that lamp.” Rodney let his fingers trail along David’s arm as he walked past him toward the bedroom.

About the Author

Sarah Madison is a veterinarian with a busy practice, a great boyfriend, a large dog, and an even bigger horse. She enjoys hiking along the Appalachian Trail with her German Shepherd and competing her horse in the sport of combined training and eventing. Writing has become a passion that sometimes takes precedence over everything else. In fact, when she is in the middle of a chapter, she usually relies on the smoke detector to tell her when dinner is ready. You can contact Sarah at [email protected].

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Copyright Raincheck ©Copyright Sarah Madison, 2011 Published by Dreamspinner Press 4760 Preston Road Suite 244-149 Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover Art by Reese Dante http://www.reesedante.com This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ Released in the United States of America June 2011 eBook Edition

eBook Edition eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-927-0