Apologies to the TGS staff, who puts out such great stories only to have nuts like me come along and muck around with it.

1932
Some island in the middle of nowhere in the Pacific Ocean

Ok, NOW I’m having fun. It’s my third night here, the party is STILL goin’ on, and the company.... Mmmm. Oh yeah. The company is fine. And I do mean that both ways it could be taken. Oh, and the natives are cool too.

See, it started when I cast that damn teleportation spell. Something... went wrong. One second I’m falling, the next thing something slams into me and sends me flying sideways. Some unknown time later, I slammed into scratchy ground, tangled up with whatever it was that hit me. “Ow,” I finally managed.

“You can say that again,” someone groaned. Whoever it was, he had one hell of a voice. Reasonably deep, chocolate smooth, coming this close to melting yer spine, and probably worth a LOTTA money to the right telephone orientated business.

So I obliged him. “Ow.”

“Oh, you’re just hilarious,” he drawled sarcastically. Mmm. Yup. Auditory chocolate.

“It’s a hard job, but someone’s gotta do it.” With that, I started untangling myself, quickly realizing it wasn’t a what, but a who that hit me. Judging by the snarls and muttering going on, it was Mr. Voice. When we were finally apart, standing, and had checked out the beach we were apparently stuck on, I turned to see who it was I was stuck with.

It was my first good look at the guy providing the voice. Oooh. Slurp. At least an eight of ten on the drool factor. Think about six feet of lean, muscled hunk – wonderfully displayed in just a loincloth, if you can believe it – with a beautiful white shag of long hair. Brick red skin, two backward arching horns, and a beak. One hundred percent gargoyle hunk.

Is the attraction factor obvious here, or am I being too subtle?

His beak dropped open. “You’re a gargoyle.”

“So are you.” It was only after I said it that I realized it could be a come on, then figured I didn’t care. With this, who would?

“Uh, I’m Brooklyn.” He held out a hand, which I shook.

“I’m Megan.” Not to mention practically obsessed, totally infatuated, and definitely trying not to trip over my tongue.

“Uhm, this is going to sound really weird, but where are we?”

Aw damn. I was hoping he had a brain to go with that body. But if he can’t even remember how he got here, wherever that might be – Wait a sec. Back up. “I thought that was my line.”

He gave me a confused look. “You aren’t a native?”

“Aren’t you?”

Nope. Apparently Brooklyn is from.... yup, New York! Once we got that cleared up, we set out exploring. Things were a bit tense when we  ran into the native humans, but that turned out better’n all right: they think we’re their gods, returned to the island for some centennial check up or whatnot. The celebration’s barely slowed since.

Yup, I’m having fun now. This place is great. Brook warned me about the Phoenix Gate, and I told him I wanted to stick it into my journal when that happened. Hopefully, the mortal and fae magic conflict’ll destroy ‘em both.

What I wouldn’t give for a camera for the look on his face at that. Book and talisman are in the fire pit now. Can’t wait for it to work up.

Let me out of here!!!! A.K.A. Home

I actually wanna go back. To see more bloopers.

Questions? Complaints? Flames? Send it all to Norcumi@backtick.net. I prolly deserve it. ;)

With the exception of some gargoyle lore and Brooklyn, which belong to Buena Vista and therefore the Great Mouse (used without permission), and the Timedancer thingy which belongs to TGS, everything in here belongs to me.