The last time he saw her, while she was working in a restaurant, she had looked frail and miserable. Now she looks better, more like when he first met her, except she's not wearing the expensive designer outfit that she used to. Instead she's wearing dilapidated sneakers, blue jeans and a white sleeveless crop-top. She's also tied her hair back with a blue kerchief. But her plain clothing doesn't make her any less beautiful, or the sight of her any less painful.
Melanie is kneeling at the edge of the water just a meter from him, the dripping Frisbee in her right hand. She hasn't seen Terry yet, and doesn't look in his direction until she's gotten back to her feet. When she does, her face turns ashen. She and Terry just stand there for a couple of seconds, neither one sure of what to do, until she takes it upon herself to break the silence. "Is…is this yours?" she asks, offering him the Frisbee.
"Yeah. Thanks," he answers, taking it from her hand. Out of the corner of his eye he sees his Mom watching him from the other side of the pond. Matt's not there. Only then does he register the sound of a child's running footsteps approaching. Then Matt bursts out of the willow curtain and skids to a halt beside him. Things have just become a lot more complicated.
"Hi!" Matt says cheerfully. "Thanks for getting the Frisbee."
Melanie smiles. "You're welcome."
Matt looks back and forth between them. "Uh…do you guys know each other?"
Terry doesn't know how he should answer that, but Melanie comes up with something. "Sort of. We met once before." Even though Terry doesn't want his brother to know the truth, he's still hurt by her words and the casual tone with which she says them.
His brother, however, is canny enough to understand that something else is going on. Terry sees the mischievous look in his eye and shoots him a quick glare. If you say anything, twip, you're dead meat. Matt gets the message, and his expression goes from scheming to scared to pleasant in the space of a heartbeat. "Well, it was nice meeting you," he says quickly. "Thanks again. Bye." He snatches the Frisbee from Terry and darts into the clump of trees.
Terry wants to say his own goodbyes and end this exchange as quickly as politeness will allow, but when he turns back to Melanie he sees that she's looking across the pond, at his mother, who smiles and waves in their direction. Melanie waves back. Terry wishes as hard as he can for the ground to open up and swallow him forever, but it doesn't oblige him. He looks at his feet, then back across the pond, where Matt has rejoined his mother and the two have started their own game of Frisbee. Then he looks at Melanie, and is shocked to see that she's watching them with a sad expression that makes her look a lot older than she really is. The sight makes his insides twist with guilt because he knows that he is personally responsible for making her so miserable. Never mind that she and her family were criminals – Batman more or less single-handedly ruined her life.
Actually, Terry McGinnis deserves some of the blame for that, too.
Melanie suddenly realizes that he's looking at her and turns her attention back to him. "Y'know," she begins, blushing and lowering her eyes, "It's funny, I've been meaning to talk to you…"
With those words she completely derails Terry's train of thought. Then a raging tornado of vague, nightmarish thoughts sweeps up the locomotive, cars and caboose and carries them away. This can't be good. Terry wants to say that whatever she's proposing might not be a good idea, but somehow the connection between his mind and his mouth has been broken.
She looks around, as if to make sure there's nobody eavesdropping. "But I can't here. Not right now." Her ice-blue eyes meet his, betraying a mix of apprehension and determination. "Can you meet me here tonight? Right after it gets dark?"
This is just insane, Terry thinks to himself. He finally manages to get his mind into some semblance of proper order again. "Melanie, no. The last time we…"
"No, no, it's not like that," she interrupts desperately, raising her hands to forestall him. Then she blinks, drops her hands and sighs. In a softer, calmer voice, she says, "That's all over. It was nice but…it didn't work out." Both of them drop their eyes and say nothing for a few seconds, as if they're having a moment of silence to honor the dead.
Suddenly Melanie jerks her head up again. Terry does the same. "Listen," she says, "This is about business. My boss wants to meet you."
Terry blinks. He must admit to being curious, although that curiosity is tinged with suspicion. "He does? What about?"
"She," Melanie corrects him. "And that's what I want to talk to you about tonight." She looks at him with a serious expression. "So?"
I shouldn't. She's trouble. I should just say no and walk away. "I'll think about it." McGinnis, you're an idiot.
Melanie doesn't take his answer for an affirmative. Nor does she press him to give her a definite yes or no. She just nods, understanding the reason for his ambivalence. "Okay. I'll be here," she assures him. Then she turns, smiles, waves, and departs.
Terry stares after her for a moment, wondering what he has just gotten himself into. His musings are interrupted by the voice of his mother, calling from across the pond. "Terry! We're going home now."
"I'll be right there!" Terry hollers back, and jogs down the path along the pond's edge to rejoin her and Matt as they start walking back home.
As soon as he catches up and falls into step beside them, he sees that Matt is giving him That Look. Of course the little brat can't resist. "Oooh! If Dana knew, she'd be je- AAAGH!"
~***~
As soon as they get back to the apartment building, Terry heads for the underground garage where he has parked his motorcycle. He has to go to the Manor to take care of Ace and, if it's possible, to contact the old man and tell him about the meeting with Melanie. Getting some advice from his boss will make him feel a lot better. He's trying not to think about what might happen if he can't manage to reach Mr. Wayne.
When he reaches the manor, he eases his motorcycle up to the sensor near the gateway and puts his feet on the ground, then starts removing his helmet. As he does, he hears Ace's enthusiastic barking and the sound of his paws hitting the ground as he dashes to the front gate. Normally the dog isn't so affectionate, but he's been alone for most of the day and is glad for some company. And he knows that Terry's here to feed him, so of course he's being friendly. He goes right up to the iron bars of the gate and stands there, wagging his tail. Then he barks impatiently.
"Hold on," Terry says. He turns to look into the lens of the sensor, tries not to blink as it scans his retina with a laser. The system recognizes him, and the gate unlocks and swings outward. Mr. Wayne had the scanner installed about a month ago – it's relatively easy to copy a key or access card, but it's just about impossible to fake a specific pattern of blood vessels inside someone's eyeball. You can't even do it by cloning an eye, since the blood vessel layout is loosely based on a fractal pattern that's encoded into everyone's genotype but is expressed differently in every phenotype. That's one of the few interesting things Terry learned in his biology class.
As soon as the gate opens, Ace runs up to Terry and barks again. Then he notices Terry's new bike and sniffs it curiously. Terry reaches out to scratch him behind the ears. "Evening, Batdog," he says. Ace looks up at him, then turns and trots back inside the gate. Terry puts his helmet back on and follows slowly, keeping his feet on the ground and more or less walking the bike forward. He goes through the gate, which swings shut and locks behind him. Ace looks back at him, then breaks into a run, heading up the hill towards the mansion. Terry hits the throttle and motors up the curving driveway.
Once he reaches the horseshoe in front of the house, he puts down the bike's kickstand and shuts off the engine. Then he gets off and leaves his helmet on the seat. Ace has already entered the house, through a large doggie door that's keyed to an access chip in his collar. Terry has to use a key to get in. He goes to the kitchen, fills up Ace's food and water dishes, and leaves the dog to his dinner while he goes down to the Batcave. Mr. Wayne told him to use the computer for any Batman-related calls, so that they can talk on a high-security channel.
It's six o'clock on the East Coast – Japan is thirteen hours ahead, so it's seven in the morning there. Terry's not sure what Mr. Wayne's schedule might be like, but he's likely to be eating breakfast or heading somewhere in a car right now. If he is, he'll be able to answer the call. Terry wakes up the computer and dials the number for Mr. Wayne's cellular phone. He thinks to himself that the long-distance charges for such a call must be phenomenal. It's not really something he has to worry about – after all, his boss can certainly afford it – but the costs he can estimate for it are high enough to be interesting. Terry makes a mental note to find out the exact amount at some more convenient time.
The word 'CALLING…' flashes on the large screen before him. With every flash Terry grows more and more anxious. "C'mon, c'mon, pick up…" he mutters imploringly.
After ten seconds the words 'PLEASE LEAVE A MESSAGE' appear on the screen. "Sorry, Mr. Bruce Wayne is not available at this time…" says a chipper, computer-generated voice. Terry utters a frustrated groan and brings his fist down on the edge of the console. "Please leave a message stating your name, number and…" Terry cuts the connection with a savage jab to the call button. He can't leave a message for his boss, since it would then be sitting around in the communications net for any hacker to find.
"Okay. Let's try this again." Terry redials. Same result. He tries yet again. No dice. "Slag it!" he mutters to himself. He'll just have to figure this one out on his own.
Terry puts the computer into sleep mode again, then leans back in the chair, squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his temples with his fingers. What would Wayne do? he asks himself.
An idea comes to him, like sunlight through a break in the clouds. It isn't much, but if it works it will give him a better idea of what he's getting into. He leaps out of the chair and runs up the staircase, back into the mansion. After stopping to bid Ace farewell, he leaves the house and heads down to the garage to get his bike. He needs to talk to Max.