Hey guys, here is just a quick short fic I came up with. Originally it was going to be a one-shot, but once I exceeded a certain number of pages I decided to just up and make it a multi-chapter fic. The first two chapters are being uploaded RIGHT NOW! The third chapter should hopefully be up by tonight. (I'm not sure if this will have 3 chapters or 4 so we'll find that out tonight. I'm aiming for three). Once I finish this, I will try to jump back on to The Enemy's Heart (AVP LEX/SCAR) and The Bite: Afterlife (Batman Beyond - Vampire story...thing.) LOL

Note: Characters might be OOC, and original Batman Beyond timeline or events may not coincide with this fanfic. :)

I'll Be

Part I

The Situation

Max sat in her seat in the computer lab, face resting in an upraised palm as her opposite fingers thrummed against the desk aside the keyboard and mouse – her attention wasn't on the lesson however (she probably knew enough of what the professor was reviewing to teach the class herself, anyway), but rather on something far more important. Maxine Gibson chewed her plump bottom lip thoughtfully before turning eyes for the clock hanging above the blackboard with mild worry. Literally in just a few minutes the school day would be over; and while the average teen longed impatiently for such a time Max wasn't excited in the least bit. He was going to be waiting, and the knot in the girl's stomach intensified to the point the world seemed to tilt on an axis. The school brain felt everything constrict around her in anxiety when the bell clanged noisily, drawing her from racing thoughts with a jolt. Max was out the door before anyone else could even rise from their seats and left behind the class assignment she hadn't even bothered to touch. Well, that was an "F" for the day. She'd make it up later.

Gibson raced to her locker down the filling hallway, only hesitating for a moment when she approached and saw her best friend waiting there against the wall patiently. As if sensing her near his blue eyes shifted and locked on her – she came forward as if in obedience to a silent command; he grinned. Max's heart shot in an instantaneous bolt. "Hey there," Terry McGinnis greeted in a smooth hum once Gibson arrived and began loading up the locker with an assortment of books, notebooks and slew of pens. "Is it possible to look so cute and still be a bad ass?" he asked, motioning for her outfit: Max was wearing her usual black spandex pants but a long sleeved purple shirt with a picture of Eeyore sitting amongst flowers with the words "What's Not To Love?" in cursive aside of him, and knee high black pirate styled boots. Today was "Favorite Character Day" at Hill High. The school was trying to help boost student morale. Terry of course was wearing a Batman t-shirt. She couldn't understand how he could be SO obvious and yet continue to go on unnoticed by society. She mumbled something in return and Terry raised a brow. "Whoa there Kitten," the teen chastised with a lift of the hands in surrender, calling her by his newest and most spot on nickname for Max. Kitten – because she was so adorable and irresistible…and had the potential of clawing your soul out viciously. "I'm sorry for ditching on the VRROOM but something came up-."

"Huh?" questioned Max as she averted from stuffing the locker's compartments and gave him a puzzled look before piecing it together. He was apologizing for last night: they were supposed to hang out at the VRROOM and then check out the unveiling of the newly renovated reptile emporium at the Gotham Zoo. Max had a thing for reptiles (well, for animals in general) and had been harping about the exhibit since it first underwent construction six months ago. It was something the girl had wanted to do badly, and Terry promised to take her…until last night when he didn't meet up. With the other situation on her mind Gibson had completely forgotten about being stood up, but NOW that he brought it up she felt righteously peeved all over again. Max spent two hours waiting for him outside the VRROOM but of course McGinnis never showed. Disheartened, the pink haired tough girl simply went home. It wasn't until around one in the morning when he had the audacity to call – but Max glared at the screen, sat the phone on the nightstand, and rolled back over in bed. "Oh, yeah," she remembered with a slight growl, slamming the locker shut with enough irritation that the passerby teens flinched and her best friend took a step back. Good. He was getting smarter.

Crap, he'd made her pissed with him…again. McGinnis swore lives could be saved by keeping his trap shut. Now he had to deal with can of worms he'd just opened like the idiot he was. Terry whined, begging for some common ground and forgiveness, "C'mon Max, don't grouch. I couldn't help it! You know that."

"I know you can't help work. But what you could've helped with Terrence," the girl hissed and brushed against his shoulder in an attempt to pass by with an upturned nose of dissatisfaction, "was at least calling. I dub that 'courtesy'. You owe me that much."

"I'm sorry, Kitten," Terry apologized again, rising from his relaxed perch on the lockers and jogging after her before touching Max's shoulder, revolving the girl back to face her best friend and therefore stopping her retreat. They matched gazes and he did the only thing possible in the entire galaxy that could free the boy from Max's wrath.

She grimaced. Damn, he was giving her the puppy dog pout. Max HATED the puppy dog pout – she could never stay mad when he did that; it was literally her kryptonite as far as Terry McGinnis was concerned; and he knew it, and used it one too many times to his advantage. The African American rebel beauty gave her signature slouched extended hips with folded arms move and huffed as she tried to gain control of her irritation – though knew now it was practically impossible. "I waited for two hours, Terry," Max rebuked.

"I tried to call-."

"HOURS later."

"You didn't answer…" he argued weakly, still pouting.

"You know damn well I was NOT going to answer that phone, McGinnis," Max stated, jabbing a finger into his chest in her sassy gesture that indicated she refused to deal with anymore bullshit for the remainder of the day. "And you sure as hell know WHY!" Terry moped looking like a pathetic child who'd just spilled milk all over himself. Max sighed and relaxed her countenance; staying mad at this fool was becoming more of an impossibility the longer they knew each other. "Forget it, Ter," she breathed. "I get it. I'm not mad that you had business to take care of, I get you're not going to be there all the time. I just want you to let me know when you're not – so I'm not standing around like some idiot when I could be somewhere chowing on chili fries or some shiz."

Now that was his lovable Max. Terry broke into a wide grin of relief and she rolled her eyes playfully, preparing to take off again when something began clear to him. "But if you weren't mad at me, then what had you on edge?" McGinnis asked curiously and looking into her eyes with need.

Max cursed to herself. Keeping things from this wacky companion was also becoming harder; his intensified attentiveness probably due to his "extracurricular activities" – McGinnis was after all the new Great Detective which gave him quite the reputation to uphold. Though to be honest, Max was pretty sure she liked it better when the boy was less inquisitive and mildly clues. She definitely preferred when she was still somewhat of a mystery.

But then, the female couldn't deny the small inkling of satisfaction she felt knowing he cared about her that much to work to tear down the walls she strived so hard to build. Max laments and runs fingers through her pink locks while the school began to quiet with more and more students making their way past the two, leaving the premises for their daily freedom. "It's," she begins, disbelieving that she was actually dealing with this, "ugh…My dad's in town."

"Ohhhh," groaned McGinnis, giving her an apologetic flitter of a gaze as the two of them walked side by side in stride for the main doors and headed out the school building. "Well, maybe it's just a drive by." The weather was rather nice for an autumn day: warm enough for no jackets, cool enough for comfort. The fresh air tickled the teens' flesh and both seemed to loosen up now that they were outside.

But the peace and tranquility did not last for one of them. Max shook her head with a sneer. "No such luck. I've gotta see him this time. He says he needs to talk to me." Terry winced, sensing her discomfort, and she nodded. "Anyway," Max quickly carried on as she pulled her arms down and pressed the textbook necessary to complete her auto-mechanics homework against her lap area, and offered Terry a hopeful glint, "it's no big deal, really. He probably just wants to feel like a father for once."

But judging from the look he gave it was plain to see the vigilante wasn't buying her attempt to console his worries; to see that she wasn't concerned herself. Terry opened his mouth to speak but then…nothing. He closed his lips and scoffed in surrender – like when he decided it was best not to argue and let it go – and adjusted the backpack over his shoulder that they knew contained necessities far more important than school books. "Okay," the boy sighed. "But," McGinnis adds with a hand on her shoulder, "if you happen to need anything – even if its tampons – ," he chuckled at the punch square in the chest, noting Max's right hook was getting WAY stronger before continuing, " – just call. I'll be there in a flash. You know that right?"

Maxine Gibson smirked and gave her best friend an appreciative hug. His arms encased her and the hacker practically melted. Even his scent was comforting. Many days she wondered what it would be like if his scent mingled with her own. Would she ever not be weakened by him and the little things he did or were part of his existence? Would she ever stop wishing they could become a part of hers? "Of course I do," she answered whimsically, then, pulling away and waving farewell, started to jog down the main steps when:

"Max!" she glimpsed over a shoulder and Terry's waiting stare was so serious the girl thought for sure her heart had stopped beating. "Love you, Kitten."

She released a breath and smiled softly. "Love you too," she answered with a twinge of shock that he had said it. Well, maybe not exactly at the words – this wasn't the first time the two had professed their "love" for one another – but rather at the tone he used when saying it; as if he were trying to convey comfort or something more for her. Maybe she was putting too much thought on it. Without another word Max was gone down the steps and heading up the block. In that moment the answer had become immediate and solidified: No. She would never stop wishing he could become part of her, and she part of him.

The train had been unbearably empty and Max hated it. Not because she liked feeling like a sardine, but because the less people around the more the girl's mind wandered in fretful anticipation of what her father could possibly want to talk about. Ever since the divorce and the sisters moved in together (in an apartment that Max spent the majority of the years in alone) things with their father had been strained; on Max's end at least. Their mother lived upstate but stayed fairly intact with her children. Max's sister and father got along fairly well – then again the eldest sibling was always independent and didn't need constant cuddling or affection to feel adored; distance, to her sister, was the best kind of love. Max assumed she adapted this attitude when their parents were going through the rough spots: it seemed pointless to believe in unity when things were so perfect to the outside eye, but hell behind closed doors. So for the elder sibling things were perfect. But to Max?

She tried making things work out, but her old man seemed more enthused with the freedom he'd always wanted rather than maintaining a connection with his daughter. They never talked, and when they did he was always on about how great life was for him. He didn't wish them happy holidays – hardly even visited! Well, except for that one time he came, ate, and left in that order within an hour's time. He'd forgotten Max's birthday three times, and the other two he'd sent flowers nearly eight months late. And then there was Shannon.

Max climbed the subway steps and walked down the street towards her complex with a fearsome scowl on her lovely young features. Shannon was her father's 23 year old no good, trashy, whore of a girlfriend. Shannon proclaimed up and down to be a black Frenchwoman from Paris who had been a flight attendant or something – but after some digging Max came to find she was really a cabbie from Arkansas. Deceitful bitch: and what was worse was that she had Max's dad wrapped around her trampy little fingers. There were no words in the Webster's to describe just how much Max loathed Shannon. She was sure Bruce couldn't think of a word. BUT Max tries to calm herself. This wasn't about Shannon. This was about Max and David (her father) – and thankfully, knowing her father, this wouldn't last long.

Before she even realized it Max was walking through her complex's front doors and on the elevator. Her foot tapped against the floor at an odd rhythm and the girl found herself gawking attentively at the lighting numbers that indicated the floors passed until the elevator came to a slow and steady stop. Gibson took a deep breath to calm down. She had plenty of time. Knowing her old man he was probably catching up with friends. It would give her enough time to get the place straightened up a little more before his arrival. Maxine had performed some tidying up early this morning before leaving for school after receiving a call in the middle of the night from David…

"ASSHOLE! What in the Joker's hellhole-?!" she had snarled into the phone around three in the morning after the fourth time it had rung. Between Terry and this persistent dreg the world obviously wanted the girl to go bitch mode from lack of sleep.

"MAX?!" replied a voice incredulously that made the teen sit up like a speeding bullet.

"Dad?!" Max had practically shrieked in disbelief. Oh shit…she'd just cussed at her father; she just called him an asshole. Well, sure at times he was, but still! "I…ummm. Was that you calling? Is everything okay?" the girl hurriedly shifted the conversation to take his mind off her profanity.

"Umm," went David's voice before, "Yeah. You weren't answering the phone."

Thank goodness. Max brought her knees up to her chest and reached forward, poking at her painted toes nervously afterward an awkward pause. "I was sleeping."

"Oh, well. I was sure you'd be awake – being a kid and all-," she grimaced when he called her "kid", "—I thought you'd be out with friends partying it up."

The Gibson youngest had tensed with that response. No apology for waking her up? For making her (briefly) concerned about whether everything was okay? Not even a "Well, how you doing?"? That was a pathetic excuse. Out with friends? Seriously? It ticked her off just how much her father didn't know his own daughter. She hated when he put her in the same category as everybody else: Maxine Gibson was NOT like everybody else! "It's a school night, dad," Max informed him without even bothering to hide her annoyed tone. She outstretched her legs and fell back into the bed, ready to end this pointless conversation. "I'm fine. You're fine. I'm going back to sleep. I've got a Trigonometry test in the morning-."

"Before you go," David had cut her off with a sudden business-like voice, "I'm coming by tomorrow. We need to talk about something." Max's heart dropped to her ass and then raced like the road runner. "I'll see you when you get out of school. I'm serious Max, we NEED to talk. Don't stand me up like you did last time I said I was coming by."

"I had something to do!" she snapped, disbelieving that he was even trying to start this tonight, well, this morning. She was too sleepy and not in the mood.

"You better watch your mouth girl," he had warned low under a cold voice that made her flip off the wall with a scowl. "You could've cancelled your plans." Yeah, maybe if you hadn't called twenty minutes before you were dropping by when I was already out and had no way home, Max screamed in her head! "I'll see you tomorrow." And without so much as a goodbye or good luck wish for her test, he had hung up. Callous, selfish, pretentious-.

Max stepped out the elevator and tread down the hallway until finally reaching her destination. Home…well, more like a place to stay. The girl pulled a set of keys from her pocket and placed it in the door, turning the knob, and pushed open. At last! Here within the peaceful walls of this apartment she could push the irritation back of her father's impending visit and relax for a few minutes – have a second to herself before…

Max halted in the doorway with widened eyes. A young black woman with golden blonde weave sat comfortably on the living room couch, twiddling what appeared to be a cigarette between her fingers before turning and smiling pleasantly at Max. The woman was young, only a few years older than Maxine was, with smooth, flawless ebony skin that even made Gibson jealous of its purity. "Black don't crack" definitely applied to this gorgeous young woman. The weave draped over her shoulders in lovely waves as her rich almond colored eyes glistened when her pouty lips pulled back in welcome…as if this were her house and not Max's. The woman crossed her toned legs in a much too short dark grey dress that looked like it belonged in a strip club as opposed for every day autumn wear. "Hey, Maxie. Cute boots," the girl cooed, placing the cigarette within her mouth. "We were wondering what was taking you so long."

Max's eyes widened…but then flared with to anger. "Shannon!" she exclaimed, tossing her auto-mechanics book on the floor and crossing the threshold before halting next to the kitchen counter. "What the-?"

Shannon closed her eyes, ignoring Max's rude outburst, unbothered by the "child's little tantrum" as she liked to call it. Why couldn't Max be more lady-like and sweet like her older sister? "We've been here for nearly an hour and a half."

Gibson hesitated. "We?"

"HONEY!" Shannon hollered like the ratchet bimbo she truly was. "MAXIE'S HERE!"

The sound of muffled footsteps came from the direction of Max's room and she wheeled, taken aback by the sight of a large African American man tailored down in a double breasted grey suit and alligator shoes coming out the hall and into the living room for full view. His rich black hair had grown out some, and he wore it in a unique 80's kind of vintage rapper cut while his mustache had been replaced by a full, perfectly trimmed beard that made him look like he was someone else – some rich executive or mob head or something. NOT the man she had loved as a child. He was someone else, someone she had come to disdain and want no part of.

"Hello Maxine," his rich and deep voice echoed throughout the room as his half-lidded eyes appraised her, shocked by how much she'd changed since the last time he'd seen her.

Max took a step back and placed a hand on the countertop. "Hey…dad." Shannon grinned widely from the couch and grabbed her lighter.

TO BE CONTINUED...