Jazz had always wondered what happens to people after collateral damage claims their homes and properties, but after the day she's been through, she unfortunately has a pretty good idea now. It started with insurance investigators interrogating her for a good hour before making her sign the final statement, breaking her lease and arguing to get her security deposit back, and rummaging through charred items retrieving everything and anything that survived. It finally ended with a fruitless search for an apartment renting for cheap in the city.

Feeling discouraged and claustrophobic in Max's tiny apartment, she decides to head to the roof for some fresh air. At forty stories high, the building isn't the highest in Gotham, but the view from the top is magnificent nonetheless. Leaning against the edge, she takes in the familiar city smells she's grown to love. The lung full of emissions and air heavy with rain eases her tensions while the view of jutting sky scrapers set against a starless, indigo sky fills her with hope.

Gotham may be an over crowded and intimidating city, but it's beautiful in its own way. It has flaws that give it a unique character, a smell that's distinctly its own; even the sounds coming from cars, people, and pigeons are Gotham. But if a tourist still disputes the originality, there is one very unique piece of the city they can't deny is Gotham: Batman.

Seeing the vigilante do what he does best is a regular here, especially in the east side; but meeting him, or even getting a close up is reserved for the criminals and their victims. Jazz thinks back to the other night remembering the rare opportunity she had to meet the man who has recently begun inspiring her to do more for this magnificent city and those who inhabit it. She has taken an interest in him ever since she moved back to the city three years ago. His influence had rejuvenated the citizens in an unexpected way, and his presence brought back hope, a precious piece of mind that many thought was lost forever.

Jazz admires him for that as well as his courage and perseverance, and her admiration has only grown since she had met him. It was clear that he was willing to risk his life to even save someone's beloved pet. She can't believe that she had the chance to help him. When their eyes locked after the fact, she felt gratitude emanating from the masked face that's usually difficult to read. It was an intimate moment between them that brings a smile to her face.

A shadow suddenly flies out in the distance catching her attention. Following it with her eyes, she recognizes it to be none other than the hero she was thinking of. He looks to be pursuing a sprinter across rooftops evading Batman's reach. She realizes that the commotion is taking place only a mile away and moving in her direction fast. Closely watching the runner's swift and graceful moves, she figures he must be a trained city runner, which is why Batman is having a hard time of catching up to him even on wing.

She takes her eyes off the pursuit to predict where the runner might be headed. A couple of miles away is Gotham's city park bordered by trees that would allow perfect coverage. Looking back, she finds him dodging Batman yet again as he zigzags around buildings and leaping from one fire escape to the next.

Deciding to lend a much-needed hand, Jazz runs to the opposite edge of the roof, leaps off, and lands in a roll on the next rooftop. Taking in an exhilarated breath, she continues leaping across rooftops until she reaches the arboreal border circling the five-acre park. Stopping in the predicted route of the runner, she takes cover behind the rooftop's access area just as the runner leaps onto the same building. Distracted by the proximity of freedom, he never expects to suddenly be tackled and pinned to the ground by Jazz.

Both the runner and his pursuer are surprised by the woman's interference. Batman comes to a skidding halt in front of her and, when Jazz moves aside, grabs the runner by the collar pulling him to his feet. When the runner turns swinging a fist, Batman effortlessly intercepts it and returns powerful blows to his gut and face knocking him out cold. After binding his wrists together with flexi-cuffs, he turns to Jazz, who is busy dusting herself off.

"We meet again," Batman starts, getting her attention.

"You remember me," she replies checking on a little scrape she received on her wrist.

"I don't forget pink eyes," he finds himself repeating. "You shouldn't have interfered. He could have seriously hurt you."

"Doubt it."

"Look," he warns, his tone turning more serious. "If you're a thrill seeking junkie thinking what I do is fun, I suggest you stop before you get yourself killed."

"No offense Bats, but you're underestimating me."

"Again, don't call me that, and it's not about estimating what you can do. The last thing I need is some wanna-be heroine getting herself killed for the sake of excitement."

Jazz rolls her eyes at him. "A normal person would thank me for helping."

Batman narrows his eyes into a glare, not appreciating her carefree demeanor. "Let this be the last time you help," he warns as he picks up the runner and throws him over his shoulder. "Now, if you don't mind, my friend here has a date with a cellmate that he can't miss."

"Hang on," Jazz says when he moves past her. He stops and turns to stare at her. "What you did for me last night," she nervously starts, stuffing her hands in her pockets and looking at her feet unsure of what to say.

"Yeah?" He prompts when she doesn't continue.

"I don't think I thanked you for that."

Batman looks her over, curious as to why she is bringing this up now. "Didn't have to; it's part of my job description."

"You didn't have to compromise yourself," she replies, looking up at him. He remains silent. "So why did you?"

He was hoping she wasn't going to fish for that explanation again. Choosing not to reply, he turns away from her; but she takes him by surprise when she grabs his arm, stopping him from flying off. He looks down at the hand before lifting his eyes to glare at her.

"That's not recommended," he warns making her quickly snatch her arm back and mumble an apology. But the effect of the action keeps him planted. "Why do you want to know?"

"It's not something I would do if I was in your place. For all you know, I could be a serial killer or a Kobra in disguise or something."

"Are you?"

"No."

"Then I have nothing to worry about."

"Batman," Jazz starts, this time with a firmer tone that reveals the importance of her inquiry. "I have to know why me."

"Why? What difference does it make?" He challenges taking a step towards her. "Will it massage your ego? Show you how special you are? Sorry, to disappoint, but you're reading too much into this. You helped me out, and I just returned the favor. End of story. Satisfied?" He's hoping the harshness of his tone will deter any further questioning.

"You're lying," she replies with courage he doesn't expect. He never thought she would try to confront the Batman. She was right; he definitely underestimated her.

"Last time I'm saying this: you're reading too much into a good deed. Drop it and move on." This time when he turns away, he doesn't stop when she calls after him.

Jazz has no choice but to watch him fly off into the air doubting she'll ever see him again.


"Turkey sub, please," Jazz orders at the deli station of Gotham University's cafeteria.

She watches the sandwich maker slowly pile the ingredients before a tap on the shoulder steals her eyes away from the mountain of lettuce. Looking up, she finds herself staring at a six-foot three hunk smiling down at her.

"Hey," he greets. "It's Jazz, right?"

"Uhm," she utters losing her words under the gaze of cobalt blue eyes.

"We kinda met yesterday."

"Uhm," she repeats as she tries to drag herself out of the idiotic stupor Terry's handsome features put her in. Being in a hurry the other day made her overlook him, keeping her from turning into an illiterate goof.

"You're sandwich, miss," the maker behind the counter announces breaking the spell and setting Jazz free.

"Thanks," she mumbles taking the food and placing it on her tray before turning back to Terry.

"You mind if I join you?" He asks making her realize for the first time that he's carrying his own tray of food.

"Uh, sure, yeah, okay," she rambles moving to an available table.

"You do remember me, don't you?" He asks noticing her apprehension.

"Yeah, of course, Terry, right? You're Max's friend."

He nods with a smile as he takes a seat beside her. "I thought since we didn't have a chance to really get to know each other yesterday…"

"Oh, right, no, yeah, I get it," she stumbles for words inwardly cringing for sounding like an inarticulate buffoon.

Terry can't help but relish how nervous he makes her. It's not often he has that effect on someone, especially when it's unintentional. "So how do you know Max?"

"Uh, we're lab partners, chemistry."

The fact that she's lying to protect his alter ego relieves Terry's concerns regarding his decision to help her two nights ago. Keeping that information a secret when most people would take every opportunity to brag about it speaks volumes about her. This is part of the reason he decided to approach her today; getting to know her will give him a perspective into who he's dealing with and maybe even a clearer reason as to why he helped her.

"You must be getting straight A's then."

"Only on lab reports," she quips making his grin grow wider.

"So what's your major?"

"Psych; it's my junior year. You?"

"Buisness, third senior semester."

"What's that about? You like paying tuition or being a student?"

"Neither. My job kind of makes it hard to take a full load of classes."

"What do you do?"

"Personal assistant to a very demanding old man."

"Pay must be good."

"It's why I don't mind paying tuition. So, why psych?"

She shrugs as she takes a sip of her drink. "Interested me the most and I didn't want to start my junior year with 'undecided' being my major. You?"

"Mom's idea. She has plans for me." Jazz nods while intently studying his face. "I don't want to makes you feel awkward, but why are you staring at me like that?" Terry asks noting the concentrating eyes.

"Oh, sorry," she apologizes looking away. "You just seem really familiar. Have we met before yesterday?" She asks lifting her eyes again.

"I would remember if we did."

"Why?" She asks when last night's events suddenly flash in her head.

"I'm good with faces," he replies squashing Jazz's suspicion that he might repeat what Batman had said. "Did you go to Hamilton High?"

"No."

"Around campus?"

"Don't think so."

"You sure I look familiar?"

"Yeah, I just can't place you," she says narrowing her eyes with thought.

Terry shrugs with indifference. "It'll come to you when you least expect it."

"Maybe. So where you from?"

"Here. You?"

"Uh, well, I was born here, but I moved around a lot."

"Army brat?"

"No."

When she doesn't elaborate, Terry tries prompting. "So you moved because…"

"Family stuff."

The lack of detail suggests she's hiding something she's not willing to trust a stranger with. Admiring her attempt, he drops the subject. When the two finish their lunch, they drop their trays off in the designated area and walk out into the sunny but cool autumn day.

"Where's your next class?" He asks.

"Science wing. You, uh, want to walk with me?" She nervously asks hoping he would accept the offer.

The vibe that she had picked up from him during lunch was one that she found comforting, something that doesn't happen often despite the initial anxiety. So when he smiles and nods, she's overcome with a euphoria she hates to admit to.

"So besides being overworked, what do you do for fun?" Jazz asks as they make their way across campus.

"Uh, not much. I lead a boring life for a college student."

"You're not the only one," Jazz shrugs. "I have to work two jobs to keep up with bills, but the independence is worth it."

"Yeah, the independence we wanted so much when we lived with our parents so we could party half the night away six days a week," Terry jokes making her laugh at the irony. "So what are your 'party' days filled with?"

"Bathroom accessory expert by day, bartender by night."

"Bartender?" He asks quirking a brow. "So what kind of drink would you take me for?"

Giving him a once over, she replies, "either a rum and coke, or vodka and sprite."

"Close; spiced rum and coke. You're good."

"It's what I do," she shrugs.

"Where do you bartend?"

"Easy Times on Brushwood street; know it?"

"Of course; college hang out spot on Thursday nights."

"Oh, so you do have a social life at times," Jazz teases as they reach the science building.

"When do you work?"

"Thursdays through Sundays."

"Including this Saturday?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"Good; I'll be there at eight. See you then," he says before walking away never giving Jazz a chance to decline.

But despite the arrogance, Jazz can't help but smile with excitement. The prospect of seeing this charming hunk in three days reduces her into a giddy teenager who receives curious looks from passersby.


As he makes his way to the car, Terry receives a call from Bruce requesting his presence at the cave. Without argument, he heads to the manor where he meets Bruce predictably sitting in front of the console.

"Inque was hired to get those specs for a rival company, but I'm not sure which," Bruce explains without greeting.

"Only strange thing about this is that she didn't put up much of a fight."

"So you noticed." Bruce turns to face him.

"How could I not? I was clean after our short encounter and had time for class. Something's up."

"But we don't know what. This could be dangerous, you know."

"Isn't it always?

"You'll have to stay away from her for a while."

"You really expect me to?"

"No, just thought you would humor me for once."

"You should know better by now," Terry grins. "Where am I going and what am I doing?"

"For now there's not much of a lead or motive, so you'll need to get friendly with Roqueteer employees and find out any behind-the-scenes information."

"I'll set up a meeting with the project developer on behalf of Bruce Wayne."

"Why him?"

"Close enough to the CEO but low enough on the corporate ladder making him more willing to give up juicy gossip."

Bruce smirks, impressed with his protégé's growth. "Set it up and we'll take it from there."

-continued-