A swelling of student bodies flooded out of a high school in Gotham. Teenagers from the ages of as young as the child thirteen to the adult eighteen occupied the crowd. It was noon and school was done for the summer. Or at least for those who were graduating in two weeks time. Students who're to stay would be back on that Monday morning.

Students who were able to drive got into their cars, while others walked or took another form of transportation. Some of the rare lucky ones got into a hover car. A few would get into old, but loved, cars that had been clearly used by previous owners.

A black haired teen was one of those who weren't going into a car. In fact, he was walking with another teen around his age. His arm was around her shoulders as they laughed at a joke.

Things became a little more somber as the girl asked, "are you sure we can't get together tonight?"

The taller teen sighed. "Sorry Dana, but Mr. Wayne really wants me to attend this gala with him. Apparently since the theme is basically 'old school', he wants me to see what it was like. 'Education' he said."

Dana raised an eyebrow at this. "Really, Terry? He wants you to go to a gala of all places?" He could hear the disbelief in her voice.

"I know, I know. This is something he wanted to share with me. Been teaching me all sorts of stuff in order to prepare me for this."

At this Dana pulled away from Terry.

Her brown eyes stared into his blue ones. "Terry. I'd hate to say this, but… this isn't normal."

Terry furrowed his eyebrows, not really getting what she was saying. "What do you mean?" He asked.

Sure, she'd said this before, back when he started working for his current employer roughly three years prior. After all, he was called away all the time then. Now, it was a bit more lenient. But this situation was a bit different in context.

Dana huffed. "I mean that bosses don't normally bring their employees to galas."

"He needs someone to help him in case of an emergency. You know he has a heart problem Dana."

At this she pursed her lips. "This is true, but I'm telling you. This isn't normal."

Terry could only shrug. There wasn't much he could tell her.

They were quiet for a moment… and then…

"Hey Ter?" Dana asked.

"Yeah?"

She paused, as if not sure if she should continue. Terry was curious about what she had to say. But then she shook her head.

"It's nothing." She said before going up to kiss him on the cheek. "Just be safe okay? Gotham has a history of Galas Gone Wrong."

He gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. I can take care of myself."

"I know," Dana says as she wraps her arms around him, "but I sometimes can't help but worry you know?"

Wrapping his own arms around her, Terry hugged her close. "I know." He then kisses the top of her head.

Together they held each other for a few moments. Slowly, he pulled away. "I gotta go now. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay. Love you."

"Love you too."

They shared one more kiss before he left.

He had work to do.

The gala was in full swing, and Terry had made sure that he had gotten his boss in at an appropriate time. After all, it wouldn't do to have Bruce Wayne be late at a gala. Especially since the company was all his again.

"Still can't believe you let me wear this suit." Terry muttered as he fiddled with his cufflinks. He stopped a moment to look down at the very expensive, very old watch that sat snug on his wrist. "And the watch too."

They were slowly making their way through the ballroom, greeting the other attendees that came to them. The duo themselves never approached anyone. And at the moment, they were alone.

It was odd. Mr. Wayne had only set the suit and the watch down in Terry's 'room' and said nothing. So what else was Terry to do but put them on? Then afterwards the man even styled his hair for him. Again, very odd.

"This suit fits you more." Bruce's voice slowly rumbled. "You've grown."

He had. Being Batman built some muscles after all. And of course he had gotten a little taller too. But because of this, he wasn't able to fit in the suit that he was able to borrow for his friend's parents wedding.

The whole party was dressed as if they were from the 80's. The gala was 'classic' themed. In fact, it felt like an old black and white photo that had come to life. Full of color. Music that hadn't been played since Bruce was teen himself was dancing around the attendees. If Terry looked outside, he wouldn't be surprised to see shorter buildings and police blimps in the sky. Or if crime started acting up, he would hear the sounds of Tommy guns being shot.

(Terry remembered the conversation with Commissioner Gordon about the guns. Went out with the capes she had told him. That was when she had bought him coffee, and talked about her time as Batgirl. Terry knew that they stopped manufacturing the Tommy guns earlier than that. He was impressed how long they've stayed for, however. Although considering the recent discoveries with technology, and that included weaponry, it wouldn't have been long before they got left behind anyways. As for the capes going out of style? Even if Gotham hadn't had a hero for twenty years, it didn't mean the rest of the world no longer had any either.)

Either way, it was due to the fact that how the gala was themed that Terry wasn't able to wear his own suit. And a suit without a lapel hadn't been mainstream until 2030. Way too late for a 'vintage gala.'

"That doesn't answer the question about the watch." Terry mumbled.

Bruce… said nothing.

Terry sighed. If Bruce wasn't going to say anything, then Terry might as well get to work.

When he had told Dana that Bruce wanted Terry to go with him for 'education' purposes, he wasn't lying. It was just, his education was a tad different than learning how Gotham Galas used to be. No, it was a bit more… like recon.

What Terry was to do, was observe the guest in a way that no one noticed that he was doing so. Pick up conversations and get an idea on who's who as well as their statuses were. He was able to do research beforehand, but due to the limited amount of time he was given, since it was sprung up on him suddenly and without warning, Terry wasn't able to do much of that.

So. Terry began to observe.

Tall man who looked to be in his sixties. Terry instantly recognized him as a higher up at his mother's workplace. They only met once, so he would be surprised if the man even remembered him. To be fair Terry didn't remember the man's name either.

Anyways, Astro-Tech was a good investment. Perhaps due to the man's status as a long time, respected, researcher he was able to attend the gala. His suit was probably from his younger years, but more than likely tailored to fit him now that he was older.

(A bit like Bruce in that regard. The man didn't even go to a tailor to get a whole new suit. Just had one of his older ones hemmed and whatnot to fit him now.)

He was talking to a clearly younger woman. Her height was exaggerated due to her high heels. They weren't even the correct type for the party. Her dress looked like something that came out of the 20's. Clearly she didn't get the memo of what decade she should follow along with.

The way their arms interlocked and the looks they were shooting at each other, it was clear they were not related.

A flash of a sparkle.

Yep. Engaged.

Turning his sights otherways, he found a younger, closer in age, couple.

Again, he was able to recognize them. Or at least one of them. The wife was a board member over at FoxTecha where he saved her from Inque two months prior. (Hopefully this time Inque would stay put. But it was Gotham. Hardly anyone really stays put.)

They were chatting with a single, elderly woman. She was older than Bruce, but wasn't in need of a cane. Not to mention that she looked incredibly great for her age. Her own outfit and hairstyle was probably the most accurate out of everyone at the whole gala.

Well, everyone besides Bruce and himself.

"My, you're rather dashing." A woman, more likely to be in her fifties, said to Terry, effectively bringing him back to his immediate surroundings.

Oh Mr. Wayne was definitely going to take points out for that. Terry hadn't even noticed her approach.

Nonetheless, Terry was surprised at her sudden appearance. And the fact that she had clearly spoken to him. Literally no one else even bothered to say a single word to him. Sure they looked at him, but mainly spoke to Bruce.

He briefly wondered if the fact he was in juvie when he was younger was being spread around the higher circles. It wasn't a secret that Bruce had a young personal assistant. He hoped that no one decided to dig for info on him and his family.

"Thank you." Terry gave her a polite smile. What else could he do? "You look rather beautiful yourself."

And she did. Her dress looked like it was from the 40's, but was probably a vintage one from the 80's. It fitted her well. Anything from the 40's would have been extremely hard to come by in actual good condition. Even for rich people. Although, if Terry remembered correctly, a lot of styles from the 40's and even 50's really stayed strong well into the 90's. It was probably around 1999 or even 2000 that fashion really moved forward.

(Lana Lang was more than likely the influence for that. Chelsea, when she had found out that Lana was retiring, had cried at the loss of such a 'wonderful fashionist.' At the time Terry didn't even know who she was. He said so and ended up getting a lecture about the life of Lana Lang. Both Dana and Max didn't help him escape.)

So. More likely than not that it was a dress from the 80's that kept the 40's style. More accessible. Since she was in her fifties or so, then it could be she was old money like Bruce Wayne.

Or she could have married into the life.

A quick glance to her hand revealed no ring. Question was if she really wasn't married, or if she was hiding a ring. There was also the other possibility that she rose to the top by herself.

The woman turned her hazel eyes over to Mr. Wayne. "He certainly knows how to make a woman feel young."

Terry… couldn't tell if she was joking or not.

"My assistant here isn't the best with his words, I admit." Bruce said, gentle old man persona in place. Traitor.

He thought he did well.

Trying not to blush, Terry spoke up. "I'm sorry if I insulted you. I'm a bit nervous to be here if I'm being honest." A flash of an apologetic smile never hurt anyone. Nonetheless it was a gamble for exposing himself like that.

Mr. Wayne had told him plenty of stories about how and why interacting with the upper class was like playing a game of poker. Of course watching old movies was a help as well.

Dainty, low, laughter escaped from the woman. A strand of brownish red hair slipped from its place to her forehead. Even hairspray couldn't keep the curls in place. "It's all right. Us old folks do love to tease." Oh so that's what that was. "First time I presume?"

"Well… I'm not quite sure if it was even a proper gala…" he easily trailed off. He actually wasn't quite sure if he should tell her.

Bruce sighed, coming to Terry's rescue. "He was there when the Joker attacked." Tiredness crept into him as he had spoken. Terry knew that the old man didn't have to act that.

Her eyes widened. "Oh dear. I wasn't there, but I remember seeing it on the news." Turning to Terry, she spoke with a sympathetic tone of voice. "I'm truly sorry you had to experience that. I hope you know that not everything is like that. Although, I do admit that was… certainly a surprise."

Shaking his head, he turned his face into that of bittersweetness. "No one knew. How were we supposed to know if no one knew at all?"

Something like approval shone in her eyes. "No. No we did not." She then shook her head in turn.

"But that's neither here nor there." She continued, looking straight at him. "I actually came here to ask a favor."

Terry couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. "I'm sorry, but why?"

Why would she want a favor? And from him?

Softly, she sighed. "It's my aunt. She had demanded to come to the gala in order to dance with Bruce Wayne."

"Oh, Lori Bishop wouldn't happen to be your aunt would she?" Bruce suddenly asked.

The woman gave a solemn nod.

Lori Bishop, Lori Bishop… unfortunately that didn't ring any bells in the teen's mind.

"I'm sorry," he interjected, "but could someone tell me what's going on?"

The older woman gave him a pitting look. "My aunt, Lori Bishop, was a famous model for lady's undergarments back in the day."

Heat rose up to dust his face red. "Oh."

This seemed to amuse her as glossy nude lips smirked. "Yes, well, she was quite the figure in pushing for women's body rights. A quote of hers was 'if a man can show his top, why not a woman?' Very controversial, she was." Her smirk then turned into a frown. "Unfortunately these days, time hasn't been so kind to her."

She then turned to the woman Terry had been observing earlier. "She might look like she's doing fine, but her mind… I'm afraid Alzheimer's took a hold recently."

"I'm sorry to hear." Both Terry and Mr. Wayne said at the same time.

Turning back to them, she looked at Terry. "As I said, she insisted on coming tonight. We couldn't exactly stop her. Really, my aunt can be a force to be reckoned with when she wants to be." She sighed. "Because of this, I'm afraid she took one look at you and thinks… well, that you're Bruce Wayne."

A jolt of shock ran through Terry to say the least. Him? Bruce Wayne?

The old man hummed. "I wouldn't be surprised if the whole gala is making her relive one of her memories."

Two pairs of blue eyes locked on each other. One with questions while answers were held in the other's. "I was your age when I first met Lori. We both attended a gala much like this one when she came up to me to ask for a dance. We danced. Other than that, that was pretty much the most of our interaction that night."

The young man nodded, taking the answer at face value. But why did she think he was Bruce?

"Well," Terry started, slowly, "I'm not terrible at the Waltz, but that's pretty much it."

"So you'll dance with her?" A perfect eyebrow rose.

He wasn't going to say no. He wasn't sure if he even had the freedom. Besides, he couldn't imagine what it would be like, watching a loved one's mind slowly fade away. Hell, he couldn't even imagine something like that happening to Bruce.

(He wasn't particularly religious, but being raised in a pretty Christen society made him make a quick prayer. Just in case.)

"I will." He then turned back to his boss. "Should I let her come over or…?"

He heard it before he saw it, the sound of high heels getting closer to them. Even with the sounds of soft chatter and music floating about, he was able to hear it. Almost as if the person wanted to be heard.

A quick glance showed that it was the woman of the hour. Lori Bishop really didn't waste any time did she.

Her own piercing green eyes were locked right on him. She was walking with a purpose, and if Terry was being honest, he felt like he was some sort of prey animal. Lori looked very, very determined. And if her niece had said nothing but truths, then she was wanting a dance with 'Bruce Wayne.'

It was a shame that he wasn't Bruce.

Well taken care of white hair was practically flowing behind her, even as she stopped in front of him. A red smile emphasized the laugh lines that were engraved on her face. Again, Terry could tell she was older than Bruce, but it was clearer that time was kinder to her than his employer. At least, physically if her niece was correct about the Alzheimer's.

To be fair, however, she was a model while Bruce was the literal goddamned Batman. Hero work does a number on the body.

A well manicured hand was held out. "Lori. Lori Bishop." Her voice did not waver. She was a powerful woman, and she knew it. Even if she didn't know him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lori's niece mouth the words 'play along.' Out of the corner of his other eye, he saw Mr. Wayne gave his slight nod of approval.

Immediately Terry felt the pressure. He didn't know what Bruce was like when he was his age. Hell, he didn't really know what Bruce was like when he was younger in general. He just hoped he didn't mess up enough to make a scene.

Nerves wanted him to tell her that it was all a mistake, that he wasn't Bruce Wayne. Unfortunately it wouldn't go well. Terry knew about Alzheimer's enough that it would only hurt Lori more if he ripped her reality right from her.

So. He had to just act. He can do that. Terry could pretend to be Bruce Wayne for this woman. And then shed the role when it was all said and done.

Smile forming upon his face, Terry took her hand in a gentle handshake.

"Bruce. Bruce Wayne. It's a pleasure to meet you Lori."

"The pleasure's all mine." She took her hand away. "It's rather surprising you know."

"Oh?" He asked, genuinely curious.

Her smile turned quite coy. "That you're here and no one has asked you to dance yet."

Well, it might have to do with the fact that he was only Bruce Wayne's personal assistant. But what would be a good 'young Bruce Wayne' statement?

Again, out of the corner of his eye, he saw how Bruce and Ms. Bishop's niece moved off to the side. They both watch the interaction. Watching to see how Terry would do. Something like hope was in the woman's eyes.

"I'm sure they all have better dance partners than I could ever be." He settled on.

Low chuckles emanated from Lori. Just the sound of them reminded him of her niece's laughter from earlier. If the facial structure of their cheekbones weren't enough to strike a resemblance between the two, it was the laughter. "Oh I doubt that. Care for a dance?"

There it was. The question they've been waiting for.

"As long as you don't mind me stepping on your toes." Terry tried for humor, letting it lace his words. "I apologize in advance if I do end up stepping on your toes."

Amusement twinkled across her eyes. "Oh I wouldn't worry about that Mr. Wayne."

"Please," he began as he held out his arm to her, "call me Bruce."

She easily took it. "Then call me Lori. None of that 'Ms. Bishop' nonsense."

"Alright then Lori. Let's dance."

Together the duo made it over to the dance floor. Multiple couples were swaying their way across as others practically glided. Terry himself felt nervous. He hadn't really danced at a gala before. It felt like ages since the last time he went out with Dana to a club and let loose. Not to mention the only type of 'slow dancing' he got to do with Dana during school dances were just the 'hold close and sway side to side.' Well, for most of the school dances.

If anything he should be thankful that Bruce decided to call in the Commissioner over for a favor to help teach Terry how to do the Waltz a few months back. That was certainly an awkward moment in his life. But, it was better than nothing. It certainly helped him out when Prom night came around.

Lori's high heels made her taller than Terry, so it felt a little strange as they were getting into place. Yet as they began their dance to the beat of the music, it felt natural. Internally keeping up with the steps certainly helped.

They didn't really talk as they danced. For a moment, Terry wondered if that's what had happened all those years ago. He for sure had no idea what to say, but it wasn't hard to imagine Bruce not really wanting to talk. Although the image of a young Bruce Wayne being flustered with dancing with an underwear model made him want to chuckle.

That was until he remembered that he was dancing with a former underwear model.

He really had to fight that blush that wanted to burn his face to ashes.

As he danced, he used this opportunity to continue his observation of the guests. Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see them glance over to him and his dance partner. He wouldn't be surprised if they were curious as to why she was dancing with him. He was a nobody after all.

Although he did catch his mom's higher up look at him with surprise. Maybe the man did remember him after all.

If people weren't staring at them, they were just plain ignoring them. Which was fine. When everything was said and done, he had a feeling that he would be gossip fuel for a while.

It went on like that for a few more minutes. Thankfully the whole time he didn't even make a fool of himself.

Point for Terry McGinnis.

Once the song ended, Terry gave the older woman a final smile. "Thank you for the dance."

"It's no problem at all Bruce. And you weren't that half bad of a dancer."

"I could say the same."

Once again, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mr. Wayne watch him with his hawk eyes. He could tell the man wanted him over.

The dance was done. He filled the request. He could leave.

Turning his head more, he made an act of looking for someone, settling on his boss. He then looked back at Ms. Bishop to give her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but I have to leave you."

She hummed. Her own eyes glanced over at Mr. Wayne's direction. "I suppose that's what we all have to do." She then gave Terry another smile. "It's been fun. I hope we bump into each other sooner rather than later, Bruce."

"It would. I hope you have a good night Lori."

"And you, too, Bruce."

With that, the two went their separate ways.

Making a beeline over to Mr. Wayne, Terry couldn't help but still wonder. Why him? He heard how those with Alzheimer's would sometimes think someone was another person. But he thought that was usually with people who resembled someone from their memories.

Did he really look like a young Bruce Wayne?

As he made his way back to his boss, he caught a glimpse of a small dome. Curious, Terry stopped for a brief moment to get a better look.

There, not that far from where he was standing, was a person wearing what looked like an old pulp sci-fi astronaut's suit. Complete with a fake 'futuristic' gun. Their… fishbowl dome of a helmet was tinted. He bet that even if he got nose to helmet, he couldn't even see inside.

It was incredibly odd. Although it was very clear how wrong the person thought the theme was. More so that woman with the mixed era's outfit.

Clearly the person came late, as Terry was sure he never saw them until that point. And if they came late, why? One part of the exercise was to find these things out.

Suddenly the person started to walk towards him at a fast pace.

Uh oh. He was caught staring. Minus one point for Terry McGinnis.

Mentally preparing to apologize, Terry fully faced the person. They probably had a bad day with being late and were essentially wearing the wrong costume. Add in the fact that they were more than likely had enough money to try to ruin his family's life, Terry most certainly had to keep any guests in a happy mood. It also didn't hurt for him to be in their good graces long enough to figure out anything they were doing illegal and then take them to prison as Batman.

But, just as Terry opened his mouth, the person roughly grabbed his wrist.

"I found you," they, he?, said with a raspy, low voice. "You can't escape from me this time Bruce."

Wait what.

Despite the wrong name, warning bells rang throughout Terry's whole being. Who was this person? It was clear that they were more likely than not a new villain on the block.

Should he try to make a scene or not? If he made a scene people could get hurt. If he didn't…

"Excuse me sir," a poor, hapless, waiter intervened, tapping on the spaceman's shoulder, "but we have a strict 'no guns allowed' policy. Even if they're fake."

Well fuck.

His captor whipped their upper body to the waiter. Terry's arm was yanked as the probably not actually fake gun was suddenly pointed to the waiter's head.

"This isn't a fake gun." The man growled.

Instantly the waiter paled.

Someone screamed.

"QUIET!" Spaceman roared.

Complete, and utter silence. Even the live band stopped.

"Now…" he began, "I want absolutely no interference. No calling the cops, and no one playing hero."

There was a pause for effect. "If you do, I'll kill someone. Not quite sure who, but someone. I just might be you." He said that last bit to the waiter.

Internally Terry cursed. Okay. So. He needed to find out who this person was, why he was called Bruce, and well, what this person wanted. And if he could, resolve this with no deaths.

"Now," Spaceman turned back to Terry. "What I want you to do, is come with me."

Blink. Jerk back. What?

"What?" He couldn't help but say.

The grip on his wrist grew tighter. "I said. Come with me. "

Oh great. He was the hostage. Wait. Shit.

Mr. Spaceman let go of Terry's hand. The other still trained the gun to the waiter. Terry didn't dare to move a muscle.

Now with a free hand, Spaceman reached into a pocket… and pulled out old fashioned handcuffs. Terry stared at them. He let himself get cuffed. What else could he do? He… he couldn't fight back. Even if everyone knew that Terry McGinnis was a bad kid, that he knew how to fight, the risk of someone's life coming to an end wasn't worth it.

He would get away later. If he couldn't then Bruce would find him.

"Listen up!" Spaceman shouted. "I expect no one try to follow us. Because you won't. And I promise you, you won't find us."

Oh god.

His kidnapper leaned ever closer to Terry. A black reflection of his own fearful expression was facing back. He saw the image of Bruce standing too far away. His eyes were wide. He was scared.

Bruce was scared.

"You." The kidnapper hissed with so much venom. "Are never leaving me. I promise you this Bruce Wayne."

Oh God.

Crackling, sizzling, a zap.

The gun had shot off.

Oh God.

A whirling… portal of some sort formed into existence.

Automatically, Terry turned his head to Bruce. Their eyes connected. Fear gripped them both.

Oh God.

He was yanked into the portal.

I'm sure as you all know, I love Batman Beyond. And I love stories featuring Terry meeting the Batfam. And since not a lot of people are writing those stories I just kinda get it out there.

(And ya know. Kinda hoping this will get people to find ways to watch Batman Beyond. I mean, it's a cyberpunk future made back in the late 90's! Who doesn't love that?)

Hope you enjoy the story!