Title: The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze

Author: Fighter1357

Date Published: 7/6/13

Rated: T for Teen

Characters: John Grayson, Mary Grayson

Genre: Romance/Family

Summary: John Grayson is looking for his song-girl. The woman of his dreams, the one that would fill his heart with wisdom and love and patience. His song-girl. To her, she was looking for her daring young man. It happened suddenly, when they met, they weren't in love. But there was something there.

NOTE: I AM IGNORING NEW 52 BECAUSE WHAT WHAT IS THIS CRAP DC WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO PULL HERE

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters, places, names and/or items. These characters/places belong to their respective owner. I am simply toying with them.

REMEMBER: This is not canon, I don't know how Mary and John met. This is all from my imaginiation because I can because what even is canon with these two anymore?


"Well," John began, pivoting on his heels. "I suppose this means I'm going to have to show you around, doesn't it?"

"I think we should be leaving," Jack snapped, grabbing his girlfriend's hands. Mary was smiling widely, her eyes wide and completely ignoring her boyfriend.

"Oh, could you? I've always wanted to have a tour of it without the whole she-bang and all. You know, without everyone doing their work."

Jack and John looked at her, both slightly confused.

"Why?" Jack snorted, but John hesitated before replying with his suddenly quieter voice.

"Interesting... well come on. I'm a trapeze artist-"

"Are you serious!?" Mary burst out, jumping from her boyfriends hand to walk next to the Romani boy. "I take gymnastics you see, I have since I was six. I've gotten pretty good I'd like to think, of course I doubt I'd ever be as good as you." She straightened up, beckoning with her right hand for Jackson to catch up from behind them. "Or are, if I think about it."

"Oh don't say that," John cut in before Jackson could say something. "I'm quite certain that you could have every much ability that I do. As a matter of fact, we (meaning my family and I) were taking a break. Would you like to see the trapeze up close?"

"No," Jackson stated. "Really, we should even be here in the first place. It's bad enough we broke onto the lot-"

"I don't care; Pop Haley won't care. Honestly no one really cares, those were pretty much put there for and by the city. I mean, sure we aren't exactly fond of having people sneak onto the lot but I mean sure so long as you watch from the sides it's fine. And I've practically grown up here!" he laughed. "I know everyone and no one will tell me off from showing you around the place."

Jack glared while Mary looked around skeptically. They were getting a few odd looks, but then again… once John was seen they would go back to whatever they were doing. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"But that's not positive," Jackson put in.

"Nope," John replied cheerily as they walked up to the giant red and white tent. He threw open the flaps (rather large and heavy but he managed quite well) and almost walked in a strut-like way, so that Mary giggled and Jackson rolled his eyes. John walked through and held up his arms, as if he were a proud father showing his new born to old friends. Mary and Jackson walked forward, eyes both widening. Jackson, having never been to a circus because of his proud family stature, was both disgusted (from the wood chips on the ground) and amazed (the trapeze was quite tall). Mary had been to the circus, as previously stated, and recalled the memory and decided it was even better up close and not from the stands.

"Pretty impressive, huh?" John asked, putting his hands on his hips and staring at it rather proudly. "I can work that thing to do anything I want!"

"Really?" Mary stated, putting her hands on her waist and brushing red hair out of her face briefly. She seemed to have gained a sudden fiery attitude, though John guessed it was always there and it was just simply showing now. She looked at his with soft green eyes and smiled, almost a smirk, and implied that the harsh "really" had been for fun.

He smiled back. "Oh yes, anything I want. I'm quite good."

Jackson stepped forward, wrapping his hand around Mary's waist, his face honestly curious as he looked up. "How tall it is?"

"85 feet I think?" John asked himself, "I'm not quite sure, I know it's bigger than 80. Not quite 150 though."

"That's helpful," Jackson grumbled.

Mary shot him a look and then turned to John. "I imagine it would suck to fall."

John grimaced, it generally wasn't something you talked about. "Survival is slim to none. My family practices with a net, however for the actual shows we don't use one."

Jackson gave him a look that practically said "well that's dumb" and partly "well that's impressive". Mary looked skeptical of this and she eyed the trapeze. "But what if you fall?" She glanced at him with her blue eyes and tilted her head, a concerned but curious look on her face. She shifted slightly, so Jackson had to drop his hand from her waist and John pursed his lips.

"I'd rather not think about it, it isn't something commonly discussed by most aerial performers."

"Why?" Jackson asked.

"Jackson!" Mary squeaked, giving him a scolding look. She regretted mentioning falling in the first place. Her face began to turn red as she stared at him, refusing, it seemed, to look at John.

No, no," the performer inclined, "it's alright. We've seen people go… you know, like that. It's just best not to think about it."

"Have you?"

Mary's face seemed to get brighter as she stared at Jackson, who was forcefully moving ahead without glancing at her. John shifted awkwardly at the two and at the question.

"I haven't, my brother has though. A friend of ours, Boston Brand, has too. It's not something you forget, like I said… not something talked about. It's a dangerous job, sure, but… it's brilliant. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Mary finally looked away from Jackson, her face draining of blood, and she smiled (it looked rather forced) turning on her heels so she was facing John. Jackson looked satisfied, albeit a little sorry, but crossed his arms over his chest nonetheless and looked away.

"We should get going…" she muttered, more to herself than John.

He shifted. "See you at the show then? I can reserve some seats, I feel like you'll like it."

She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it. "I.. suppose we could, I could bring my sister."

"You know Sally probably won't like it," Jackson cut in, crossing his arms ovr his chest. Mary gave him a reproachful look.

"Who doesn't like the circus?"

John smirked a little at Mary's statement, agreeing silently to himself.

"You know she's conservative about things like this."

"You are too," Mary replied knowingly, smiling. "And you came."

"I came because I'm your boyfriend."

John winced and Mary's smile disappeared. "Oh, I see. Alright, well… I'll go later then and you can stay home and discuss the Stock Market or whatever the hell you want with Sally," Mary replied, crossing her arms and turning away. "I'll see you later John."

"Come right before the show, I'll show you some tricks," the boy awkwardly put in.

Mary nodded and grabbed Jackson's hand, waving goodbye to the performer and walking out the way they came. John watched them go, his eyes on her red hair and his thoughts on those wonderful blue eyes. He'd always wanted blue eyes, he thought the grey was dull. A smokey, foggy sort of misty grey that contrasted with his dark complexion and made him look odd. He was a dreamer, and was constantly thinking about unimportant things like this. He of course did not think that it was unimportant and often enough his complexion was something that he either wanted to change, or admire in the mirror constantly. His brother had the same dark grey and he hoped that if he ever had a son, that they wouldn't have his color eyes. His hair, yes because he thought that looked pretty damn good but his eye color? No. Grayson charm though, depended heavily on the hair and eyebrows (you had to work it) and John rather likes that. Tall, dark and ruggedly handsome, like a 1920s bar tender, or something like that.

John sighed and walked over to the trapeze, kicking at the wood chips with his slipper-covered foot. No matter what he did to entertain himself in life, he was always bored and he always ended back at the trapeze. Life needed something, he though, constantly. Glancing around and finding only his nephew, John began to climb the trapeze's ladder. He didn't grab the bar when he reached the top, he sat down and dangled his feet above the net, his elbows against his knees and his head against his fists. He sighed deeply, wondering when his life would begin.

He wondered if he would see Mary later today and with Jackson King. John scrunched up his nose, leaning back into the large metal post with his eyes to the light that flooded dimly through the red and white stripes. He had always been into girls (he was a bit of a playboy) and especially girls that were into the circus and the trapeze, so basically he hadn't been with many girls throughout his life. Plus, he lived in a travelling circus and he could not very well just stop and leave for a girl and he doubted a girl would just up and leave with him. Most of the girls that were his age he had grown up with in one way or another and he could only see them as good friends.

Though… there was Susan. He and Susan had sort of had a game going on between them. He liked her and he knew she liked him back, but neither had had to courage to say so. She was an animal tamer and was rough and tough and didn't put up with any shit that anyone had to say or do. Personally, he thought she could tone it down sometimes but they were friends, good friends, and maybe they could be something more one day. He laughed quietly to himself, recalling a memory that had only happened days before they entered Philadelphia. Both of them were helping in the big tent, taking things out. It was pouring rain and the circus couldn't wait another day, they had to get to Philly. So there both of them were standing outside with two rubes with a folded stand from inside the tent.

"Grayson!" Susan yelled, "the hell you doing? Stop lollygagging and help me get this thing in the train!"

John laughed, getting the rain into his mouth and gurgling slightly. "Shut up and stop telling me what to do, Rino, I'm supervising."

Susan Rino growled at him, tightening her grip on the handles of the metal stand. "Don't sass me Grayson, or I'll stuff your head so far up your ass that the bump on your neck will be your nose!"

John laughed again, shrugging and grabbing the handle, and winking at one of the rubes, and helped heft the stand into the train car. Once it was finished, Susan walked over and punched him in the arm.

"You're so stupid."

"And you're bossy! Tomorrow, I can become smarter but you'll still be bossy!"

"Stop trying to copy Winston Churchill, it doesn't work!"

John laughed himself out of the memory. She was bossy though and it seemed that this was her largest asset when making friends; she was also very convincing. Convincing and bossy, in sort of a bad way but good too. He laughed quietly to himself, leaning forward and standing up on the platform.


"You didn't have to be so rude," Mary remarked firmly, not daring to look at her boyfriend. She heard an exasperated huff behind her and the sound of nylon on nylon, meaning he was folding her arms. If looks could kill… the look she was giving the sidewalk and not her boyfriend could murder a crowd. "And don't get snippy with me," she reminded him, raising her finger into the air to point it out, "because you know I'll only get snippy back."

"He liked you!"

"So, he can like me! There's nothing wrong with that," Mary replied, rolling her eyes.

Jackson walked up behind her and grabbed her hand and looked straight into her eyes, stopping them in the middle of the walk. "You know what I mean, he like liked you. He was interested," the young socialite stated.

She sighed, rolling her eyes and glancing up at him. "He can be interested, so what? I'm with you. And lots of boys show interest in me (not to sound arrogant of course, a little rude of me to say so) and I haven't ever gone after them now have I?"

Jackson looked away, feeling irritated as they walked back into the high quality suburban neighborhood. "You could have at least not shown any interest back."

Mary's eyes widened and she stopped short, her mouth in a wide "o". Jackson walked two step in front of her when he spun around his heels to stare at her. "Oh no you don't, don't you dare turn this back around on me! I was interested in what he did with his life! He did something that I myself also have interest in and you were rude and mean and defensive! I'm sorry, but how is this my fault? Could you just for once respect what I do and how I want to learn?"

Jackson blinked, watching as she walked by, ripping her hand from his own, and stomped off in the direction of her house. He stood there for a single moment, watching her and then scurried off after her, blinking rapidly from what had just been said.

"Mary, I'm sorry, honest, it's just that I… I do get defensive when someone else likes you. It's because I love you!"

Mary stopped short and whirled around, throwing her hands up in the air. "Then show it!" And then she turned around,stomping off in the direction of the large mansions. She knew that it was harsh, but Jackson had to learn the hard truth and the only way that was going to happen was if she told it to him. She heard his footsteps behind her and, without thinking about it, she began to walk faster.

They came to an area that was filled with large houses, with large expensive metal cars. Sunny Spring Fields (something off a book, honestly though) was where Mary Loyd had lived practically all her life. Her father, Samuel Loyd, was a successful Lawyer that had offices in all the major cities in America. His wife, Caroline Loyd, was a former dancer who had retired after a leg injury. Mary had an older sister Sally who was engaged to a presumptuous business man that Mary was none to fond of.

They walked, though separated by a few feet, to Mary's house. Even though Jackson was well-welcomed in the Loyd household, Mary's body language told him otherwise. Jackson King came from a family that had begun to get rich during the sixties in Gotham, and who when had moved to Philadelphia when the city began to move to the dumps. They lived to Philadelphia so that Jackson's father, Ronald King (known to the public as Ron King), could begin building up the empire his family had created. Of course, King's company was nowhere near what it had been in the sixties or compared to Luthor Corp, Wayne Industries, or even Elliot or Crowne (Cobblepot was long gone) or any of the Higher ups of Gotham anyway and though he thought himself one of the big-wigs, he was not. He raised his son to believe that everyone was not as important as them. Jackson thought he was God's gift to all men and women and that places like the circus… were filled with trash, and were for trash and therefore he could not be seen there, because he was not trash.

Mary, when she had met him, was disgusted with the boy. He was so rude and arrogant (and they were only ten) but with her father's business meetings with Ron King as their lawyer, Mary and Sally were dragged along to learn the world of big business and soon enough, King brought his own son Jackson and the children were all stuck together.

"Goodbye Jackson," Mary replied politely before turning on her heel into the large house.

She walked into the front parlor (her parents were quite old-fashioned, as Mary was herself) to see her mother and father drinking tea, both sitting there reading. Her mother, an elegant older woman with a few streaks of grey in her hair, even at her age, looked young and clean as she sipped her tea. She smiled up at Mary when she walked in.

Her father looked up and smiled, setting down his magazine and gesturing to the piano. "Ah good, you can place a few pieces for us on the piano, would you dear?"

Mary, heaving a sigh of relief that they didn't ask where she had been, smiled warmly and nodded. She moved over to the piano and sat down, smoothing out her jeans nervously. Placing her hands on the piano, she began to play Canon in D., one of her favorite pieces. It wasn't the most classical but it was certainly one of her favorites. Her father hummed sotly to her playing, picking up his tea, the clink of glass against glass drowning in the sound of the piano.

"Where you dear?" Mary heard her mother ask.

She pretended not to hear, playing slightly louder.

"Dear?"

"Mmmh?"

"Where were you, it was quite early for you to be out," my mother replied matter-of-factly. She heard the clink of glass again.

"At the circus," Mary replied nonchalantly, acting as if nothing were wrong. There was no reply for a moment.

"What? Say that again dear?"

Mary switched to Clair De Lune almost automatically (this piece was not played loudly or roughly, perhaps Eine Kleine Nacht Musik would have better) and repeated: "At the circus, mother. They're back in town, isn't that great? Jackson and I went down to go see it before everyone else. Met an acrobat there. He was quite nice." And handsome, but Mary wasn't going to say that.

"An acrobat? Circus? Mary what in your right mind were you thinking? You could have been hurt? Or one of those gypsies could have stolen something of yours!"

Mary stopped playing, though she didn't turn around. "Mother the story that gypsies travel with the circus is long gone, many of them have lives now. And the proper term is "Romani", no Gypsy. Gypsy is a racial slur. They don't "travel in the circus" anymore, only in… 17th Century France honestly and you know that, you taught me that," she argued.

Her mother sighed. "Mary look at me. So there were no gyp-Romani's there?"

"Well… the boy we met, he was. But he was nice and showed Jackson and I around. He even showed me the trapeze! Oh you should have seen it, it was simply amazing! I meant honestly, it must have been 100 feet tall! Jackson asked about falling, we left after that. Well, I mentioned it but... Jackson pushed the topic."

Her mother gave her a scrutinizing look, though looked embarrassed. "Asked about falling?"

Mary looked away angrily. "Yeah, and the boy, John he said his name was, looked really uncomfortable. He said it isn't exactly something you talked about."

"Good boy Jackson," her father remarked, setting down his book, "put that circus boy in his place. Should be out there getting a proper job."

Really though, her father was so conservative she was surprised.

"Dad!"

"Samuel!"

"What?" Samuel Loyd began. "I'm right. He should be putting whatever skills he has left from growing up in the circus to good use."

"You haven't even met him? How can you judge?" Mary argued.

Her father tapped his temple with his index figure. "A simple knowing thought my dear."

Huffing, Mary abruptly jumped up and stomped upstairs, angrily closing her door. Moment later, she poked her head out from her room.

"I'm going to the show tonight! I'm almost eighteen! You can't stop me!"

Now that was a lie, she was only seventeen years old and they could stop her and only next year would she be eighteen. (It was only March too).

Well, she had never snuck out before.


John had never been so delighted to see anyone before.

When he saw Mary Elizabeth Loyd standing outside the circus he felt so much joy creep up inside him he almost did a flip right then an there. She hadn't seem him yet, of course, and was standing there in her jacket with her arms curled around herself to keep warm.

"Mary Elizabeth Loyd!" he called out behind her.

She spun around, looking surprised.

"John Grayson," she replied knowingly, smirking, as the surprised disappeared. "You out looking for me?"

"Maybe, if you want to be looked for."

She laughed lightly.

"Who knows maybe I do? Anyway, I've bought my ticket but…"

"Main show hasn't started yet, John replied glancing up at the big red and white tent. I can't bring you in yet but you can get in line. Or I can show you a few of those tricks out here like I promised.

"If I stand with you will I be able to get more quicklier?" she asked, ignoring his "tricks" statement.

"More quickly," he corrected, automatically.

She scowled. "I'm tired and cold, Mr. Grayson."

"They'll be opening up in a minute!" he replied cheerfully.

She smiled.

"Thanks."

He blushed slightly. "Thank you."