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My Big Fat Gargoyle Wedding	By : MelissaMaxwell Category: +G through L > Gargoyles Views: 7467 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gargoyles. Gargoyles belongs to Greg Weisman and Disney. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
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Demona sat in her favorite chair. Well, not so much sat as slouched, with her back on one arm and her legs dangling over the other, her tail trailing over the seat. One hand held a glass of Chiante, the other her magic mirror. She delicately sipped her wine as she observed her daughter eating apple pie and chatting with that antlered gargoyle, who seemed to be eating Chinese take-out. She seemed happy. And then she seemed sad. Why? Damn the magic mirror for not having audio. She'd have to find some spell to make up for that. The antlered gargoyle managed to cheer her up with an embrace. Why couldn't Angela take him as a mate? From what she observed, he was charming, urbane and far more handsome than that stupid oaf who now called himself Broadway. Oh, that's right. He was taking Lexington as his mate.
They were going to another room. There were so many gargoyles about. Some chatting with each other, some drinking soda, some eating pizza. More gargoyles than Demona had seen in one place in centuries. Where did they all come from? Some of them, hatchlings for the most part, looked like English stock. The others looked like they were Scottish, and seemed bemused by the electric lamps, stereo and television. Those gargoyles were all her daughter's age. Could they be the rookery siblings from Avalon she was told about? There was Goliath, the Old Soldier at his side. An English gargoyle resembling a doe was telling a story that they seemed to find amusing but the white deer clearly didn't. An elderly human woman was there too. Something was familiar about her, though Demona couldn't place it.
Wait...that dress, those mannerisms...she had seen them somewhere before. The hair was gray and the face was mapped in lines, but it was her. It was that snotty, whining, spoiled human brat of a princess! Angela had told Demona about her when she was captive in the Labyrinth. Angela refused to believe what Demona had told her, insisting that Katherine was nothing but kind and loving. Wasn't it enough that this human bitch destroyed her clan? Did she have to usurp Demona's rightful place as rookery mother as well? When she finally got around to destroying all humans, she'd see that this one would suffer. The only human she hated more was....
Demona was now looking at Elisa. That stray thought had caused her to lose concentration on her daughter. Damn that human for making her hate so much she couldn't think straight! The human was having coffee and cookies with an older human woman, possibly her mother. How sentimental. Demona chuckled a bit when the older human did a spit take with her coffee. Silly humans. Just couldn't control themselves.
Demona idly wondered what her other former lover was up to. It would be a good idea to keep tabs on Thailog and his doings after all. Probably he was with that Arabian human trollop again. What she did see caused her to spit out her Chiante. Demona blinked her eyes and wiped the spattered droplets of red wine off the glass to be sure what she saw was true. Thailog was indeed being fellated by Brentwood. What fresh Hell was this? She wanted to stop, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the mirror. Thailog was writhing in pleasure, no doubt making those same deep, baritone grunts and groans she so loved to hear.
Demona finally laid the mirror aside face down. She simply couldn't torment herself with this image any more. Thailog. Goliath. So alike, and yet so different. Goliath could be loving and tender as well as wild and passionate. Thailog, he was so good at pretending to love her that Demona hadn't thought twice about it. She remembered her first times with them. She had been a virgin with Goliath, but more eager than frightened. Perhaps even more eager than he was. With Thailog, she was seeking to have her broken heart healed, only to have it ripped open all the deeper.
Demona sighed heavily. The memories were making her wet. No. She wanted to be angry at both of them, not horny over their memories! She flipped up her loincloth. Best to get this done and over with.
Demona threw her head back and hummed as her fingers found that lump of moist flesh and rubbed it. She gasped and spread her legs wider. Her free hand released a breast from her brief top and caressively squeezed. Her body was heating up, filling with pleasure. The pleasure intensified. Her head thrashed back and forth as she whimpered. She worked her fingers harder, faster. Her whimpers became moans. Her moans became screams. Her scream became a feral roar. Demona panted for breath as she came back down from her orgasm. Upside of living alone. No one to hear her scream while she pleasured herself.

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"You didn't hafta tell 'em about the mushrooms, Hudson." Broadway was saying.
"Aw, come lad." said Hudson. "It was nae fair to have Staghart be the only one embarrassed! Come outside with me, lad."
"Aw, but I wanna see Staghart acting like Linus!"
"Ye can watch the video later, lad, this is important."
"But Xanatos put a new popcorn machine in the theater!" Broadway protested.
"Stop thinking with yer stomach, lad and come with me to the balcony!"
Once they were outside, Broadway leaned against the railing. "What's so important you have to tell me?" he asked.
"Broadway," Hudson sighed. "I have something that I've carried with me for many a year now, and I want you to have it." He reached for his sword belt.
"Aw, Hudson, I can't take your sword!"
"I'm not giving you my sword, ye great daft lug!" Hudson answered. "Ye'd likely cut yer own bloody head off with it!" Hudson removed something small that had been sewn into the lining of the loop that held the sword. He held it out in his hand. Broadway thought it was a speckled pebble at first. "Recognize it, lad?"
"There's...something familiar about it." Broadway admitted.
"Like as not, it may well have been the very first thing you laid eyes on." said Hudson. "It's a cowrie shell. Long ago, when my mate was only my sweetheart, we went for a walk on the beach near the castle. It was a full moon, the light bathing the sand and sea with silvery light. The waves murmured as the rolled about. The scent of salt air was soothing. I wanted to take all the beauty of this lovely night, wrap it up and give it to her. But, I had to settle for this lovely, smooth, spotted shell I found in the sand."
"I think...I think I remember...." Broadway searched his mind for mental images from his earliest childhood. "She wore this on a thong around her neck, didn't she?"
"Aye, lad." said Hudson. "The leather thong has long since decayed, but the shell is as good as ever. I want you to have it now, Broadway. Give it to Angela. I know it's nae as fancy as that diamond Lexington gave Staghart, but...."
"Hudson, it's beautiful!" Broadway said, taking the shell. "Angela will love it. Thanks!" He opened his arms, prepared to embrace the older gargoyle.
"Ye don't have to hug me, lad." Hudson said, taking a step back.
"Yes I do!" Broadway said with a grin.
"No, really, ye don't."
"BIIIIIG HUUUG!" Broadway announced as he wrapped his arms around a protesting Hudson.
"Leggo me, you lummox!"
Broadway finally let go. "I'm gonna go give this to Angela!" said Broadway. "Or, wait, maybe Fox has a chain or something I can put it on. Thanks, Hudson!" Broadway hurried off.
Hudson shook his head. "Nice lad." he said to himself. "A wee bit too emotional, though." He went back inside, wondering if there was any pizza left.
"Hudson!" Ayala was approaching. "I just saw Broadway hurry by. Everything alright?"
"Oh, 'tis, Ayala." said Hudson. "I just gave the lad a token that needed to be passed on."
"Oh? What sort of token?"
"A shell." said Hudson. "It was something that, ah, my departed mate used to wear."
Ayala gave a small smile and opened up the mini album she was carrying. "This is my departed mate, Columban." she said, showing him the photo. "Holding Staghart. I think he was about two years old then. You know, we almost never broke him of his dummy habit. He'd cry so much whenever it was taken from him."
"Ach! Broadway was the same way when it came to weaning!" laughed Hudson.
"Trust me, dear," Ayala put a hand on his shoulder. "When those fangs come in, weaning can't come soon enough."
Hudson chuckled. "I remember when Brooklyn was teething. He toddled up to me one night with this pitifully sad look on his face. I ruffled his hair and said 'What's the matter, little one?' Then he grabbed my tail and bit it!" They both laughed. "I screamed out in pain and he started crying. My mate picked him up, cuddled him and went to rub a bit of uisge beatha on his gums. Ye'd probably be arrested for doing that now."
"In this day and age," said Ayala. "You could probably get arrested for taking pictures like this." She showed him a photo of Staghart and Coco at age eight taking a bubble bath together.
"Ach, 'tis all innocent." said Hudson. "The bubbles and the rubber duck cover everything up anyway. For the most part." Hudson smiled. "You know, the first time Lexington saw a bull he asked me 'How come that cow only has one thing to pull on?'"
Ayala chuckled. "Hudson, why don't we talk about something besides our children?"
"What would you like to talk about?" he asked.
"Oh, let's go outside on the balcony. I'm sure we'll think of something." Hudson offered his arm, which she took.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oi, who's messin' with the lights?" asked Castor.
"Light goes on..." Uriel flipped the switch. "Light goes off." He flicked the switch again. "Light goes on...light goes off."
"What in the bloody hell are you doin'?" Pollus asked the small, beaked gargoyle.
"I'm trying to figure out how this works." Uriel said, pointing at the light switch. "Where I'm from, if you blow out a candle, it's out until you can light it again. But this! The lights are out and on again in a second!" He flicked the switch again. "On, off. On, off. On, off."
"Well, quit it 'fore you give someone a strobe induced seizure!" said Castor.
"What's your name, anyway?" asked Pollux.
"Uriel." he said.
"Your name's 'Urinal'?" chuckled Castor.
"No, no, Uriel. Like the angel."
"Named after an angel!" snickered Pollux.
"Steady on." said Castor. "We was named after stars, so it ain't like we got room to take the piss." He offered his hand to the beaked gargoyle. "I'm Castor. This is me brother, Pollux."
Uriel shook his hand. "You're twins." he observed.
Castor and Pollux looked at each other and gasped in exaggerated shock. "So we are!" Pollux said, as if he'd faint from the revelation.
"Crikey!" said Castor. "You'd think our mums would tell us something like that!"
"I mean," said Uriel. "How do I tell you apart?"
"I'm the smart one." they said in unison. "No you're not!"
"Well, I got a mole under me left wing." said Pollux. "But, I'd rather not strip down, all the same to you."
"Tonight," said Castor. "I'm wearin' a Sex Pistols button on me waistcoat." Both twins were wearing leather vests decorated in patches and pins. They were nearly identical except for the left breast pocket that Castor was pointing out. "Pollux has an Iron Maiden button."
Uriel looked at the buttons. Castor's showed a picture of a crowned woman with the words "God save the queen" blocking her eyes and the words "Sex Pistols" blocking out her mouth. Pollux's had a demonic looking face and the words "Iron Maiden" just above it. "So, what are Sex Pistols and Iron Maiden?" asked Uriel.
"They're bands." said Pollux. "You know, rock and roll."
"Uh...what's rock and roll?" asked Uriel.
Pollux smiled and shook his head. "Mate, if you have to ask, you'll never know!"
"We can try." said Castor. "C'mere." He led Uriel over to the television in the next room and picked up the remote. "What's the station number for MTV here?"
"It's on the back of the remote." Pollux pointed out.
Uriel jumped when the television came on. "How did those little people get in that box?" he asked.
"I'd explain." said Pollux. "But it involves a lot of maths."
"Aw, bollocks!" said Castor when he got to MTV. "Another bloody ep of /The Real World/! Those execs at MTV need to get off their bloomin' arses and play some music for God's sake!"
"Oh, for buggery's sake, Stephen!" Pollux said of what was going on with the Seattle cast. "Just give Irene her damned cuddly toy back!"
"Is that what rock and roll is?" asked Uriel. "Screaming and slapping people about?"
"Not always." said Castor, flipping the channels. "Let's see what these Yanks watch on local telly." He stopped on a local station that was showing a Chapstick commercial featuring a skier.
"Is that what snow is?" asked Uriel. "It's pretty, just like Angela said."
"Yeah," said Pollux. "Well, it ain't so pretty when you're shoveling it off so people can get through the door."
"Or sprinklin' salt about on the pavement." said Castor. "So no one falls on their arse and sues you for a million quid."
Uriel was about to ask why they had to sprinkle salt on pavement (whatever that was) and what it meant to sue someone and what was a quid and why would someone want a million of them for falling down. However, he was distracted by a new commercial. "My friends," said a blond man with a mustache. "Are you feeling alone in a world that terrifies you?"
"That bloke's stash terrifies me." said Pollux.
"Looks like a bloody caterpillar is sleepin' on his lip!" said Castor.
"This world is changing." the man continued. "Some things are in need of change."
"Like your drawers!" said Pollux.
"But this change has been for the worst. This country...this world, has been invaded. Since the dawn of time, humanity has been confident in it's position of dominance, but recent events have dented our feelings of self worth. Humanity must bind together now against this dark, inhuman threat." The screen went dark and began to show images of gargoyles, in as grotesque a manner as possible.
"Oi! This bloke's talkin' bout us!" said Castor.
"Do you feel threatened? Scared? Terrified?" the man's voice asked.
"Guess who got a thesaurus for his birthday?" snarked Pollux.
"Do you worry about what these monsters may do to you while you sleep?"
"Bow-wow-chika-wow-wow!" Castor imitated the soundtrack to a 70's porno.
"Are you concerned about what may become of your children?"
"I'd be worried to let nippers anywhere near this geezer!" said Pollux.
"I'll say." said Castor. "He's got nonce written all over him!"
"Then come talk to us..." the man continued. "Come visit the Quarrymen!" A closeup of a brownstone building with the hammer and Q logo was displayed. "Conveniently located at 443 West Park Avenue. Come visit the Quarrymen, because we care about humanity."
"Right." said Pollux. "And James Cameron really cared about honoring the hundreds who drowned on board the /Titanic/."
"I think maybe we should visit the Quarrymen." said Castor. "And bring some spray paint and a bogroll!"
"What's a bogroll?" asked Uriel.
"What's a bogroll?" echoed Pollux incredulously.
"Steady on." said Castor. "May be he just don't understand the word. Remember how we had to tell Lex what the proper words for everything was?"
"Ah, like how he kept callin' chips fries." said Pollux.
"Righto." said Castor. "Uriel, a bogroll is what the Yanks call toilet paper." Uriel looked confused. "You know, a roll of very soft paper what people keep in the loo."
Uriel shook his head. "No idea what you're talking about."
"Whaddya wipe yer arses with, then?" asked Pollux.
"Rags of cloth." Uriel said with a shrug. "Sometimes leaves."
Both twins shuddered at the very idea. "Don't know bout you, Pollux." said Castor. "But I'd sooner eat raw fish and wash it down with iced tea than wipe my arse with leaves!"
"Like you ever do!" teased Pollux. "C'mon, let's visit these Quarrymen. The loo here is chockablock with bogrolls, they won't miss a few. Don't know where we might get spray paint, though."
"What's spray paint?" asked Uriel.
"You know what paint is?" asked Castor.
"Of course." said Uriel. "My brother Jophiel has taken up oils recently."
"Well, spray paint is like that," said Castor. "Only...sprayed."
"Only way is to show him." said Pollux. "C'mon, let's make like a bucket and bail!"
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My Big Fat Gargoyle Wedding