Night Moves

by Christine Morgan

Night Moves
Christine Morgan (
comments welcome
Author's Note: standard disclaimer about these characters belonging to
Disney and not to me. This is a sequel to "Kittens." Mature readers only!

"There has just been too much going on lately," Elisa said to her cat. Cagney, whose exciting life peaked whenever a moth got into the apartment, yawned hugely and feigned interest in her own paws. "We need a break. Something to take our minds off of everything. I mean, first it was Demona and the apple, and then the twins, and now Matt's missing." She rubbed her eyes. "We've done everything we can, but there's not so much as clue one. I hope he's not in trouble." She deliberately put Matt out of her mind. The cops and the gargoyles had been doing everything they could to track him down, with no luck. Her problem tonight was Goliath. It had started the night the twins had been born. The night she'd nearly died. The night Goliath had by some unknown miracle saved her life by taking her with him when he turned to stone. Although she had awakened from that stone sleep completely healed, he persisted in treating her as if she were made of glass. She could deal with the almost superstitious awe with which the others regarded her. After all, _she_ hadn't done anything strange. She could deal with Maggie's tearful thanks every time she visited the newly- expanded mutate family. She could not, would not put up with Goliath acting like she was fragile. She understood how he felt. She had nearly lost him time and again. After, she had always been so thankful that she felt like she didn't dare touch him for fear he'd burst like a soap bubble and reveal it all to be just a cruel dream. But this was no dream. She was fine, healthier than she'd ever been. She was _alive_, and she needed to _feel_ alive, and the best way to do that was in the arms of the male she loved. "Time for desperate measures," she said to Cagney, and rummaged through her closet for the dress she knew was in there, the dress she'd bought at Victoria's Secret for a prostitution sting that had never gotten off the ground. It was black, it was tight, and it was short. The magic of Lycra. The neckline was a deep V of stretch lace, with a matching band of the stuff along the hem. Hidden away in one of her dresser drawers, still in the original gift wrap, was the Wonderbra that had been a Christmas gift from Aunt Agnes. Beth, Nikki, and all of the other unmarried females in the family had gotten them, along with a terse note suggesting that it might help them catch husbands. They'd all had a good laugh about it, but it was the sort of laugh tinged with exasperated feminist anger. Now, though, Elisa wiggled into the Wonderbra and beheld herself in the mirror. "Wow!" she couldn't help saying, turning this way and that, studying her profile and cleavage. "Wow!" Cagney glanced at her, clearly less than impressed, and sidled toward the black dress which looked like the perfect place for a nap and a shed. Elisa rescued the dress and put it on. She'd heard the phrase "second skin" before, but never really appreciated it until now. Some of her outfits she'd worn while undercover had been revealing, but this was downright dangerous! A pair of thigh-high black boots, what Beth called her "slut boots," completed the outfit. In a spirit of sexy rebellion, she elected to go "sans undies" (another Beth-ism) and brushed her hair until it fell in a black, barbarous flood over her shoulders. She grinned at her reflection. "Goliath, my friend, you'd better look out!" * * Brooklyn and Broadway were headed out for patrol, and darn glad of it. For the past several nights, Angela had been in an awful mood and everything either of them tried to do to cheer her up only seemed to explosively backfire. It had finally been wise old Hudson that sent them out, suggesting that she needed some time to herself. Goliath had agreed, and here they were. "I wish you'd just leave her alone," Broadway said. "She likes me better." "She does not! Things were going great, until you had to go and start reading her poetry." "I need to practice my reading! She offered to help!" Brooklyn started to snarl, but it turned into a sigh. "Hey, I'm sorry. It's not your fault. It's mine. Damn! I knew I never should have told her!" "Told her what?" "Nothing. Forget I mentioned it." They emerged onto the roof and stopped dead in their tracks. A female figure stood silhouetted against the rising moon, in a challenging stance and pose right off a James Bond movie poster. "Elisa?" Brooklyn asked. Elisa tossed her head and rolled her hips, to the front and then to the side. "Hi, guys." Broadway sounded like he was having trouble breathing. Brooklyn knew exactly how he felt. Elisa had been a friend, almost a sister, a part of the clan. Broadway's crush on her was that of a grade- school kid to a favorite teacher. They could relate to feeling love for a human, but physical attraction? Although they knew she was Goliath's mate, neither of them had really thought of her in a ... well, sexual way. Until now. "She must be undercover." Broadway's eyes were bulging. "Looking for Matt." "Actually, I'm looking for Goliath." "I'll get him for you." Brooklyn practically ran for the stairs. He'd privately wondered about Goliath, and Hudson, and Lex, smugly and very secretly considering them queer for humans, but after seeing Elisa like that, he finally understood. Understood, and wanted to get away as soon as possible. His life was complicated enough already without getting turned on by Elisa. Goliath was scowling in front of the television, where a spokesman for the Quarrymen was being interviewed by Barbara Walters. He glanced up. "Uh ... Elisa's here," Brooklyn said, gesturing back the way he'd come. "Elisa! Is she all right?" Worriedly, the Quarrymen forgotten, he got to his feet. Ever since Elisa had nearly died, Brooklyn knew, Goliath had been even more protective of her. "She's more than all right," he blurted. "She's incredible!" Frowning, Goliath ascended. Brooklyn followed at a respectful distance and heard his leader suck in a breath when he caught sight of Elisa. The two younger gargoyles were immediately rendered invisible. Goliath rumbled low in his throat, his tail shifting and scraping across the stones. Elisa threw back her shoulders and inhaled. Her eyes flashed with smoldering heat. She extended her arms. Without a single word, Goliath swept her up and leaped from the parapet. His massive wings unfurled and then they were gone. Broadway and Brooklyn looked at each other. Broadway's throat moved as he swallowed. Brooklyn didn't know what to say either. He kept thinking of her legs, of the golden expanse of thigh visible between the top of her boots and the bottom of her dress. "Well," Broadway finally said. "Yeah," Brooklyn agreed. "I think that outfit's registered as a lethal weapon." "It should be." "If Angela saw us now, she'd _really_ be mad." "We better go on patrol." "Yeah. Which way did they go? Let's go the opposite!" * * "I think I unnerved the guys," Elisa chuckled. "You unnerved me," Goliath said. "What was the meaning of that? Why did you wait on the roof? You could have fallen." "I wasn't going to fall, and you've got to stop thinking I'm so damn fragile!" "I nearly lost you, my Elisa." "You didn't, though. You saved me. Don't coddle me, Goliath. Let me live. Let us both live." "I cannot bear the thought of you being hurt." "Likewise. But I'm fine. Feel that? Don't I feel healthy to you?" She guided his fingers to the arrogant thrust of her bosom. His claws were just sharp enough to be enticing and not painful. "You're making it very difficult for me to concentrate on gliding," he said. "I'm just getting started." She worked her right hand between them, slid it under his belt. "Elisa!" He veered in the air and looked down at her, startled. "Better look where you're going," she murmured, then blew in his ear and reached the rest of the way down, under the loincloth, finding him already rock-hard. She smiled. Gripped and squeezed. His breath ragged, Goliath was gliding quickly away from the skyscrapers, toward the unobstructed skies over the harbor. While he continued to gently knead her breast, his other hand, the one supporting her legs, rubbed firmly on the backs of her thighs. The night air was cool, the sea breeze and faint mist even cooler, especially against her warming skin. She shifted in his grasp, bringing her lips to the line of his jaw. Her movement caused his hand on her legs to slide upward. He gave her another startled look as he realized there was precious little on under that dress, and that the hem was inching steadily higher. "I've been going crazy these past weeks," she said. "Were you suddenly afraid you'd break me or something?" "Something like that. I am sorry, Elisa." "Make it up to me." "With pleasure." Still holding her carefully, he urged her legs apart and settled his hand between them. Elisa gasped as she felt his strong fingers moving over her most sensitive spots. She muffled her cry against his chest and slowed the pace of her own hand to match what he was doing to her. "Perhaps we should land," he suggested. She shook her head. "Not this time. I want you, Goliath. In the air." He was beyond arguing. He immediately sought an updraft and, as they climbed, held her by the waist while she tugged his loincloth out of the way. His tail wrapped snugly around her. He lowered her toward his waiting stiffness. Elisa twined her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips. She felt him nudging at her opening, then smoothly enter. Once again, she was surprised by his size, as if she'd forgotten since the last time just how much he lived up to his name. She clung to him, the air streaming through her hair, the lights and the waves passing below in a blur. The motion of their gliding was all the motion they needed, the push of gravity, the lift of the wind, the flex of his wings as he changed course. Ever since putting on the dress, knowing full well she intended to seduce him, Elisa had been in a state of mild arousal. It had intensified as soon as she's seen him and felt his arms around her. Now, just having him inside her was enough to bring her to a sweet climax. She rocked her hips fiercely, shrieking to the sky. He responded with a teasing growl. Folding his wings tight around them both, he went into a steep dive toward the inky water. Just before they would have plunged through the waves, he spread his wings and caught the air. The move pushed them together even more strongly, leaving Elisa breathless. Goliath climbed high again. His fears of crashing seemed to have vanished. His control in both gliding and lovemaking was nothing but superb. He glided leisurely now, holding himself in check while she went off like a series of fireworks, one after another. Elisa thought she was going to just faint, or fly apart into a thousand pieces. Her few previous lovers had never been able to give her more than one, if that, but with Goliath it was unstoppable, unbelievable. Still unspent, he lifted her from his throbbing thickness and turned her, so that her back was pressed to his chest and his wings were as her wings. From behind, he entered her again, burying himself in her softness. The new position provided new pressures, rubbing in different ways. Already feeling another series building, Elisa reached down and back, between her own legs to find Goliath. She rubbed firmly along the base where their bodies met. He roared again as she shattered his control, quickening his pace. Elisa saw her own shadow cast in the white glow of his eyes, her shadow racing over the sea, the shadow of a woman whose every cell suddenly seemed to sizzle and tingle as her final devastating orgasm rushed over her. Goliath's warm seed flooded her depths, his roar ringing to the heavens. The shadow woman was closer, Elisa's dangling boots actually splashing through a wave before Golaith was able to recover some altitude. He glided unsteadily toward one of the large floats that marked a shipping lane and collapsed heavily on his side. Elisa carefully disentangled herself and rolled to face him, showering light kisses over his lips and brow. Her whole body felt pleasantly dazed. "Is it always like that?" He opened his eyes. "No. This was better." "Mmm." She let her head pillow on his bicep, which really was about the size of her pillow back home though considerably harder. "Have I told you how beautiful you are tonight?" "No, but from your reaction, you didn't need to say a word." He lay quietly, stroking her hair, his warmth offsetting the night chill. Eventually, he said, "I've tried to think of a way to tell you how much you mean to me, Elisa." "You don't have to. I know." "I've observed that humans exchange tokens to prove their love." She chuckled softly. "Careful, big guy, I might think you're proposing." "I would exchange tokens with you." She rolled onto her elbow and stared down at him. "Oh, my God, you _are_ proposing!" His hand raised to caress her cheek. "You are my true mate. If it is your wish that we marry, then it also is mine." "Oh, wow." Elisa flopped back down and gazed up at the moon. "Married? I was just getting used to living in sin with my gargoyle lover." She started to snicker, then to laugh, then to howl in helpless mirth with tears streaming down her cheeks. Goliath, alarmed, rose up over her. "It's the Wonderbra, isn't it?" she managed. "Aunt Agnes strikes again! She said it would help me catch a husband!" He was thoroughly perplexed, the expression on his face only making her laugh harder. Seagulls, which had roosted peacefully all through their noisy coupling, now took scoldingly to the air. "I am quite certain," he said with great dignity, "that this is not the customary response." Elisa gradually sobered, although aftershocks of giggles still burst out of her. She lovingly ran her fingers through Golaith's dark hair. "Of course I'd marry you, Goliath," she said. "But it isn't necessary. You and I, and everybody else that really matters, already know how we feel." He nodded. "Still," she mused, "it'd be something, wouldn't it? I could make Beth and Angela wear pastel pink bridesmaid dresses ... Bronx could be the ring bearer ..." "Enough!" he laughed. "So long as you know what you mean to me, I need nothing more." She smiled. "I do." * * The End

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Night Moves / Copyright 1996 - Tim Morgan /