Disclaimer: I own nothing, all the rights remain with their owners and this is a non profit story inspired on the Batman stories.

Silver Deception

Chapter 1

(Wednesday Evening)

In the faint distance she could hear the screaming of horns, the explicit curses of tempers and the humming whoosh of cars whizzing past underneath her. The hover-limo sored high above all of this, separating the bored teenager and her distracted father from the common folk, who were just as far beneath them on the social scale. Mairyn stared distastefully out of the window, the gritty metal and stone of Gotham City blurring indistinctly. From her angle, she couldn't see much of the city's most unique and infamous features, the blinding reflection of the big industry hid the dirt and grime of the lower levels. But that was meant to be her privilege, to be spare any unpleasantness caused by the less fortunate.

Unlike most teenagers of her age and class, she wasn't spoiled. Yet even she took little notice of her luxurious surroundings, of the expensive designer clothes wrapped around her in a teasing but tasteful manner, of the black choker necklace imbedded with a rather big diamond, earrings and bracelet to match. None of it held her interest or her curiosity, never had and was never likely too. Personally, it was all a bit of a farce to her, and a boring one at that.

The outfit wasn't really of her choosing- it was the man next to her. Middle-aged, greying hair yet still somewhat attractive, Wen-shen Chang was arguing rapidly into his mobile phone. His clipped annoyance increased as he sharply tore into the person on the other end of the phone, unsatisfied with what they were reporting to him. Mairyn pitied whoever it was, she knew what a controlling perfectionist her father was. It was suffocating enough to live with him, working with him would have to be excruciating.

The ride was silent except from the background sounds of the city and her father's insistent micromanagement echoing around her. Mairyn was actually glad her father wasn't attempting to make conversation with her (or even acknowledge her sitting there). She couldn't stand to spend time with her absent father, especially lately. Every second would become more unbearable than the last, given how more demanding he'd be. This was the most time they had spent together since her mum's death several months ago, and more time than she'd care to spend near him. Glancing over she wasn't surprised that he had turned his back to her – however the distinct clink of a phone closing did startle her.

Her father shifted back into his seat, absently straightening his fitted clothes as he glanced at her. His expression was, as ever, solemn and severe, as he turned to the next part of his business. "Mairyn, I know I don't have to impress upon you the importance of this deal. We need this deal to expand the business and you..." the man paused, unsure of how to phrase to his daughter what her role was, as if she wasn't already aware of it.

Mairyn resisted rolling her eyes, sometimes she thought obeying her father should almost be worth going to elite parties in expensive pretty clothes, any girl's idea of a good time - but it wasn't. Nothing he ever rewarded her with was worth what he wanted her to do. She'd rather be down VRoom with her friends, being a normal teenager – but as her mum had always told her, "you're not normal, Ryn, you're meant for so much more". She hadn't believed it then, and now more than ever she doubted her mum's wisdom. Given what her father had her doing, she didn't think her mum would ever have been right.

"I know, Father. I'm to find Wayne's lackey boy and befriend him – 'or whatever is necessary' –to convince him to get Wayne to see he needs this deal as much as we do." She sighed; it wasn't like she hadn't done this before. Too many times, really.

Her father grunted absently, already examining his PDA for an update, "We should be arriving soon, just remember...be charming."

Charming had never sounded so sinister.

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Straightening the lapel of his suit jacket so that it was resting properly against him, he resisted the urge to pull at the bow tie until it was loose enough for him to actually breathe again. Of course, amused irony touched his lips; he should be used to not breathing by now. Turning away to face the ballroom again, he felt like a complete fool in his formal clothes.

From the way many eyes kept glancing at him appraisingly, if Max or Dana had been there they would have quickly corrected him. A perfectly fitting Armani suit that Bruce had ordered despite (or perhaps because of) Terry's look of abject horror, complimented his Gotham pale completion. His silver-blue eyes almost gleamed from between the just-ever-so-slightly-too-long ebony hair that framed his face, giving him an air of both a man of mystery and a childish amusement him. His shoulders were relaxed in an unbothered sort of way that was a natural companion to his carefree attitude. He almost appeared approachable if not for the detached amusement/disdained hidden in his eyes as he looked around.

If there was one thing in the world, (maybe the only thing in the world) Terry didn't want to skip patrol for it was an elitist 'business' party. They were boring, stuck up and a complete waste of his time when he should be doing his real job. And the young man would rather be dealing with the pathetic quips of the Jokerz than the soulless jokes of the Connected.

Unfortunately Bruce, in coming out of retirement, needed to reconnect with the world. He needed the support of his old connections as well as too forge new ones to consolidate his place at the head of Wayne-Powers. All of which seemed to require Terry's presence for some reason beyond his comprehension. Wayne justified it as that Terry was there to aid him and protect him if necessary, which in Gotham was as a sensible reason as any. Honestly, he got the impression that Bruce simply enjoyed making him suffer and if Bruce had to live through boring never ending parties then so did Terry. The original Batman was simply sadistic that way, hidden behind the mask of education.

Sure Bruce would claim that Terry needed to learn the intricate art of politics, and that establishing his reputation early would benefit them both in later life; really Terry thought Bruce wanted to make him used to dealing with the stupid people who frequented these parties.

True, there was good food, decent music (if a bit ancient), the building was schway and it was also interesting to take a step back and just watch the people around him. He liked to watch and see what was really going on between people – what they really were and weren't saying to each other and about themselves. Body language was so revealing if you weren't trained to regulate it.

It was just the whispers that drove him half mad, even if he had been prepared for them.

He tried to ignore them but they seemed to flare up at the most inconvenient moments, getting louder like an irritating buzzing in his ear, never truly fading. He knew by sight the sort of people who adored retelling as sordid stories about him and /or Bruce they had heard or made up.

'Is that...'

'Oh yes, that's Wayne's boy...'

'...of course we all know what's going on there!'

Damn Bat hearing was a curse more than a blessing. The elderly socialites turned away with scandalous grins, missing the venomous gleam in Terry's eyes.

Terry, through Max, was aware of the rumours flying around about him and Bruce although he didn't know the 'details' involved. He knew enough to be disgusted by some of the more … vivid ones. Rumours to the elite were like a critical blood supply to a vampire; it was what they lived for, what they needed to live and most important, how they spent their time. The rumours flying around a party would depend on the individuals invited and their particular tastes in scandals, some more daring than others. There were some of Bruce's old 'acquaintances' that Terry and Max were frankly disturbed Bruce could look at without punching, never mind do politics with. Naturally they were all retired, still influential members of society (who the two teens had quickly branded 'perverts' and made plans to avoid) and were probable only out of jail owing to the same influences.

But still, the rumours still infuriated him, especially from people like those perverts.

He wanted to hit someone.

Hard.

Moving over to the balcony, he noticed that the buzz faded slightly with relief. Anymore and he'd punch the next person to look at him leeringly, as if he was deaf to what they had just been saying. He took a large drink from the cup in his hand.

He would have loved to try the champagne – but he had a feeling Bruce wouldn't agree with him. And that man knew how to make his life difficult enough without Terry provoking him – which Terry did more often than was healthy. Maybe Terry was a little masochistic, but one didn't become Batman with a fully formed set of survival instincts. The night was cold and dark around him but at least peaceful, with the city stretching out before him. The light twinkled with misleading serenity and this part of Gotham, so much cleaner and well-kept than the rest, gave a gently coy air off about itself. As if Gotham was beckoning her knight to come and join her in the cool concealing darkness, full of unspeakable crimes and blood warming rushes.

Resting his elbows on the railing, Terry looked down to watch the hover-limos bring more and more rich elite, businessmen and socialite women to the party. Women all decked out in rainbow silks, men in identical formal suits and the occasional child in miniature outfits of the corresponding gender. Nice. Dana would have loved to come, if only for the excuse to buy a brand new dress with her dad's credit card – and she'd look gorgeous in it, no matter what. He knew he'd never get Max or Mattie in a dress or a suit, though he suspected the results would be both amazing and hilarious. He could just see it. Max, who was beautiful yet easily the most tomboyish girl he had ever known, never wore a dress – in fact she didn't own one to Terry's awareness and ten year old Matthew McGinnis was a pain and a pest, albeit an loved one.

A faint smirk flickered on to his face at the prospect of humiliating his irritable baby brother. Terry didn't smile much anymore, not a real untainted, non-sarcastic smile. Batman didn't smile and after all the things Terry had seen on the street he couldn't say he disagreed – but when he was with his little brother, his friends and girlfriend, his family...sometime he forgot about Batman and smiled a little.

"Cred for your thought?"

Surprised, Terry turned around. A girl stood right behind him, a glass in one hand and a knowing smirk on her face – how had she gotten behind him without him knowing? It was unnerving, he hadn't realised he was so distracted as to let her approach without sensing it. Bruce would kill him if he knew, and rightfully so. Terry shouldn't be unguarded, period.

She was very petite, hardly more than five foot three but still looked rather attractive in her toga style dark blue dress and light makeup. Her hair was short and sharp, emphasising her aristocratic cheekbones. It's style was shorter that Dana's but nowhere near as rebellious as Max's – it suited her very well, going with the glint in her eyes. Terry made a rough estimation that someone in her family must have been Chinese from her features.

Terry raised an eyebrow at her. The girl smiled back at him innocently, moving to join him on the railing. Goosebumps broke out over her skin but she didn't give any indication that she was bothered by the cold .

"Mairyn?" The girl offered it like a question, with her hand held out daintily.

"Terry." He took it; her grip was surprisingly firm for someone with such soft hands. She had to be about his age maybe slightly older – though he guessed she was here with her family and not her boss like him. The jewellery was a dead giveaway; someone was trying to send a message there with the serious credits dangling from her ears.

"So Terry, any reason you are hiding out on the balcony and not enjoying the party inside?"

She was also very blunt it seemed, not caring that the question could be taken as offensive by someone. "Any reason you're not enjoying the party yourself, Mairyn?" He shot back silkily, enjoying her blush.

"Hmmm, what makes you think I'm not enjoying it?" she quipped.

"You're not inside, as you pointed out yourself."

"Ah, well then, no real reason then. I'm just... trying to get away from my dad and his annoying colleagues; no one my age I know to talk to ...yada yada, same old story. Take your pick - Yourself?" She took a sip of her glass, eyes watching him intently. Terry grimaced – blunt, persistent and sharp, good combination that.

"I wanted some fresh air." He answered dryly.

The girl studied him. Obviously, it was a lie (City air wasn't 'fresh' by any standards – smog anyone?) but she couldn't call him on it without calling him a liar, which wasn't something you did with someone you didn't know. She dropped it.

"Well since I get the impression you're not enjoying yourself inside, it must come down to me to make sure you enjoy yourself out here." Despite the fact the statement might have come off slightly inappropriate, she waved an arm theatrically around her good-naturedly. Her suffering martyr tone made him smile with amusement.

"- Or you could go back inside and enjoy the party on your own." Terry winced slightly, that had come out harsher and colder than he had meant to. Bruce wasn't the only one who was meant to be making friends after all, and upsetting young socialites wasn't going to get him a good reputation. Plus, she had been nothing but friendly to him, she didn't deserve his temper.

Mairyn frowned, not offended and equally not intimidated, "You're assuming I was enjoying myself before... just as you assumed I wasn't enjoying myself... - and beside you look like a lot more fun than the corporate busy body zombies in there!" She jabbed her free hand at the door and the small smile returned. There was a small curl in the corner of her smile that seemed to possess a cunning and witty edge to it, belying the simple kindness in her eyes. How interesting.

Terry shrugged, (she had him there after all) the suit stretching over his shoulders. Somehow he didn't doubt this girl had no problem entertaining herself if it came down to it. He also got the notion that she might have just have chosen him to keep her entertained for the evening. Turning to her, he noticed she was watching him critically out of the side of her eye, eyes drifting up and down. He flushed slightly. She would lose interest in him as soon as she found out he was 'hired help' as it were, opposed to some wealthy businessman's son. It wouldn't be the first time a pretty girl was disappointed to discover he wasn't about to offer her some fancy benefits for her time.

"You're Terry McGinnis, aren't you?"

Terry wasn't sure if he should be suspicious or surprised at that, since he was hardly well known – he decided on confused. "Umm, yeah. Why?"

Mairyn shrugged her shoulders stiffly, "Nothing, it's just my father's doing a deal with your boss." She brushed a stray bit of hair out of her face, looking away from Terry, "That's why I'm here - in Gotham that is. I'm...accompanying my father. I...you may have noticed that I don't come from here." She grimaced darkly, as if she was extremely unhappy to be Gotham, or perhaps simply with her father.

Terry had noticed but had the tact, at least, not to say so - no sane Gothamite would randomly walk up to a stranger and talk to them like they had been friends all their lives. He seemed to attract outsiders, like he was some lonely but kind soul that could understand them – he blinked, somewhere, Max was surely curled up crying with laughter. Him, dark and mysterious. Yeah right. Resting against the railing so he could face the brightly lit party and look down at Mairyn with just a tilt of his head, Terry focused his attention on her.

"You and your dad don't get on, do you?" He observed lightly.

Mairyn toyed with the glass in her hands, eyes fluttering as she looked down over the balcony, "Not really, especially... since my mum die. He just doesn't seem to care about us, now or ever, and frankly, I never cared either." She bit her lip.

Terry shifted awkwardly. "Oh?" he stared into his own glass, "Your mum's dead?"

Mairyn didn't answer straight away, just stared out unseeing into the night sky like it held some comfort for her. For the first time, Terry truly noticed that she looked more...mature than most of the rich girls he knew, more weathered. Like she was more than the clothes and jewels she wore.

"My mum died a few months ago, in an accident. They – they didn't catch who did it." Somehow her shaken but vindicated tone told him something very different. Accidents happened every day in Gotham after all.

Terry didn't say anything, instead allowing the calmed silence to return and enfold them. The Gotham night was soothing in a different way. With a new found clarity he saw why she wasn't really enjoying the party and why she must have be draw to him. It took a long time to get to the stage where you could enjoy yourself without some guilt and Terry wasn't completely there himself. Guilt was something that seemed to linger on. Unwillingly, he remembered the night his dad had died, as if he'd ever be able to wipe it away.

It had been raining heavily. The walls were covered in neon paint in a mocking Ha. Ha. Ha. HA. Police had covered the scene, fruitlessly. It was a scene too fresh to his mind for any comfort. It had been the same night he had first met Bruce, chased through the streets by a gang a Jokerz he had refused to be afraid off. Jokerz, though different ones, who had tried to kill Bruce and Dana not so long ago on the order of the resurrected Crown Prince of Crime. Instinctively Terry's hand closed into a tight fist, shattering the glass cup, cutting into his hand.

Mairyn jumped next to him but Terry didn't really notice her or the distant throbbing of his hand or the wetness his skin. He had fared a lot worse since his dad's murder.

The Jokerz were pests and lowlifes but they were far from harmless. They took pleasure from murder and intimidation – they lived for the pain and fear they caused their victims, who were disgustingly many. They were a symptom of the diseased Gotham, opposed to the illness itself but that didn't mean they weren't dangerous. The Jokerz weren't the cause of his dad's death, that cross lay at the door of Derek Powers, late of Wayne-Powers, a greedy, cruel man. Powers abused his authority, like so many others, and caused more damage than a gang of Jokerz could do. Or he had once at least.

But there were far too many more like him in the world for Terry's conscience.

So why was he here? Terry stared down in the spearing red substance that he had seen far too many times before – in the form of his own or others. Why was he sipping juice and making small talk with people he didn't even like and certainly wasn't liked by in return, when he should be finding ways to bring criminals to their knees? To bring about justice to them? Why was he playing games instead of going out and trying to save Gotham?

The sting in his hand spiked and Terry was knocked out his daze, blinking furiously and darkly as reality returned. Mairyn had taken his hand and was busy trying to stop the bleeding with a saturated hanky. The frustration abated slightly – Terry knew why he was not outside. There were other ways to save Gotham than simply by breaking noses, keeping men like Powers out of positions of influence and authority was just as important and efficient. It wasn't just the streets that harboured criminals – Terry sighed tiredly.

"Terry? Terry! Are you Ok? Can you hear me?" The concern in her voice was more reassuring that any words could be to him.

"Huh?" Terry shook his head and pulled his hand out of Mairyn's grasp. Ignoring her protests, he pulled the make-shift bandage off and checked it for glass. Finding none, Mairyn handed him another tissue which Terry quickly used to stop the bleeding and clean his hand up expertly.

"Are you OK?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure-"

"Yes, Mairyn, I'm sure." Terry paused, regretting the snap in his voice instantly, "I...Sorry. I was just... remembering the day my dad died." He rubbed his face, feeling the stress building up.

Mairyn looked at him with unreadable eyes, "Oh?"

Terry didn't look at her, closing his eyes against the glare of the light of the room inside "It was a while ago. It's...you just don't forget, you know?"

Mairyn shook her head slowly, "No... no, I don't think you... do."

There was a pause.

"I'm sorry about your dad. I didn't mean to remind you, if it was painful -" She cut herself off, unsure and not wanting to make things worse. But she didn't leave.

Terry smiled weakly, appreciating her concern, "Don't be. I told you, it was a while ago and you didn't know." There was a less solemn break, "You like vid-games?"

Mairyn smiled brightly, relieved at the change of topic. "Oh boy, do I!" She teased.

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The two teenagers quite happily spent the rest of the evening talking, eventually moving from the rapidly cooling outside inwards, finding a small secluded corner to hide in, away from the judging, gossips around them. Mairyn was just as eager to escape the far too interested older socialites as Terry was, and the more they talked, the more Terry felt he had misjudged her ever so slightly.

Mairyn was a little bit of a socially awkward girl, not to mention lonely, since she was restricted to a small circle of friends by both her parents – her dad was a snob and her mum didn't approve, feeling Mairyn wasted her time that was better spent studying. She had a terrible habit of blurting out her thoughts without first considering if it was appropriate, and often landed herself in trouble as a result. Terry actually liked her blunt wit but he did get that most people (himself included) thought she was being rude at first. Beneath she was a very observant person and more than able to keep up with him in the things he could red from others' body language.

Terry quickly realised that Mairyn really wasn't like most well-off teenagers; fashion and music didn't interested her in the way other teens followed it religiously. Latest trends were things, like himself, she was often unaware of and didn't care about. Mairyn love vid-games, enjoyed sport and athletics and had been practicing martial arts since childhood. Technique wasn't something he had ever talked about with someone at a party before but Mairyn enjoyed the topic and was about to contribute eagerly. Both were quick to pick up on the fact family (excluding siblings, himself Matt and Mairyn had an elder brother Quincy, who she adored) and work was to be avoided at all costs, as it was uncomfortable.

Terry just couldn't find words to explain to her what his job actually cover (a little of anything really) and Mairyn had trouble explaining what it was like having a father who just assumed you existed to further his company. They bother agreed to not understand and moved on quickly. Neither talked of their parents (dead or alive), Mairyn's hatred of her dad was clear if implied, and Terry felt strange guilt about his mum, for all Mary's faults, she loved her son and always tried the best by him. He tried hard to not let her down this time.

What many people would assume to be idle pleasant chatter (but to teens as a whole was actually hard core investigation) passed the time quickly and neither teens noticed how late things were getting or that they had actually forgotten their original dissatisfaction with the party. They found they were simply getting to act their respective ages for once, and enjoy the rare opportunity to relax and be something close to normal.

"Ok, and then Max threw the cake right into the bloke's face – it went everywhere! God, you really should have seen it, the guy was just standing there, gaping, while the rest of us bust a gut laughing! Oh it was so schway." Terry gasped, pausing to take a drink as Mairyn's whole body shook with suppressed laughter at the image Terry had vividly painted in her mind. Max was certainly someone she wanted to meet.

She sniggered under her breath as a few rogue tears sneak pass her grip, "Well there was this time, Q and I were at this party and –"

"Mairyn! There you are! I thought I had lost you." A fake joyous voice cut through the conversation quicker that a pin into a balloon, as an older man stepped up to them. The few nearby conversations died just as quick, the speakers' interest caught by the new arrival in their claimed corner.

The man – her father obviously - casually laid a hand on his daughter's shoulder, pointedly ignoring how she stiffened up at the unfamiliar and unwelcome touch as he pulled her closer. He nodded slightly to Terry as he introduced her to the elderly man next to him, who looked as charming and frail as ever.

Wen-shen Chang's smile was wide and insincere but Terry applauded him the effort. "Darling, this is Mister Wayne, the man I'll be working with on the deal over the next week. Remember I told you about him?" Most people couldn't manage to smile weakly after a few hours alone with Bruce, never mind so energetically, Chang was certainly determined.

Mairyn smiled an equally wide but not totally as fake smile and took Bruce's offered hand, "It's really a pleasure to meet you, Mister Wayne. Terry's told me a lot about you." She gestured to Terry, making sure he was pulled into the conversation too. Honestly, he was fine to stand by and watching the show.

"Terry," Bruce raised an eyebrow at him amused, as if to say 'so this is where you've been hiding?'. His voice was low and deep as rich as his bank balance suggested, even if unnaturally light, "Been telling tales, have we?"

Terry grinned warmly at his mentor, "Of course not, as if I do such a thing." The coy tone was counterbalance by the look on his face that said he told Mairyn everything about Bruce and wasn't concerned about revenge. Bruce smirk straight back at him.

Chang eagerly leant forward, his sharp eyes were much like his daughter's in that regard, were watching the two interact closely. Their relaxed familiarity was obvious, "Ah, Mister McGinnis, is it? I've heard quite a lot about you, young man. It's nice to finally meet you." He said politely.

Terry took the man's offered hand firmly, making sure to meet his eyes, "And just what kind of things have you heard about me, Mr Chang? I'd love to hear."

Terry tried to not enjoy the spluttered, stumped look the flashed across the older man's face briefly. Chang hadn't expected Terry to talk back to a 'superior' with anything by acceptable, distant respect however casually he may acted towards Bruce. The man really didn't know Terry at all in the regards. And obviously Chang hadn't heard anything about him at all or at least nothing good, and was now trying to come up with something to say that wouldn't offend Terry – and by default Bruce. That was the last thing he wanted to do, and could be easily done since Bruce was clearly quite attached to the young man.

"Oh, only good things I'm sure Terry." Mairyn intervened quickly, smiling a thousand watts as she did so. Terry felt sorry for her, more than he had earlier. Though not enough to regret messing with her father, even if it was very awkward for her. To be stuck with this as her life – doubt talk, fancy parties with ulterior motives, false friendship that lasted as long as deals took and a father who noticed her only as a pretty tool to use, wasn't something he'd wish on anyone. Yet there wasn't anything he could do, in the end Mairyn control her own life. If she chose to try and help her father, then awkward situations were unavoidable.

"I'm sure the two of you have had a nice time together but time is getting on. Terry and I still have work to finish before tomorrow, so if you would excuse us..." Bruce smiled falsely at Chang. Terry wondered if he would ever lose the stomach knotting wariness that appeared whenever he saw Bruce smiling – it was an omen of nothing good when Bruce did his 'frail but nice old man' smile.

Muttering understandings and sympathies for the long night, Chang took his hand and enthusiastically promised to see them tomorrow at the meeting. He was so looking forwards to it. Mairyn merely nodded to him in a rather disappointed but diplomatic manner, her natural flare vanishing meekly beneath the dominating airs of her father, as if the less attention drawn the better.

But as Terry reached the exit he swore he saw Mairyn mouth a 'see you tomorrow' behind her father's back, as she was guided forcefully towards another group like a champion show dog. He tried to smile reassuringly back as the door closed.

He had the weirdest idea that patrol was going to be spent learning everything there was to know about Mairyn, her father and his business for tomorrow's meeting. As if Bruce, Batman or Gotham would demand anything less of him.

Nor would Terry do anything that would set him at a disadvantage, he was looking forwards to meeting Chang on a different kind of battlefield.

Review please?