And he's, running his fingers through ebony silk strands spread out like liquid on his lap.

And he's, wondering why there's a desire in him for it to be gold. Why he wants to see that very color shimmer in front of him, to taste it with his mouth and feel the pleasure as it slides between his fingers. Wants to hear it sigh and glide smoothly across his body as they...

And he's, aching inside.

And he, doesn't know why.

And it's time to go. Make his daily rounds. Live his other life.

So he places a kiss on the ebony head and whispers against it, "I better get going. Gotta be home early."

And the ebony head turns and looks disappointingly at him. "Already?" Dana asks him.

And he gives her a small, apologetic smile.

Because he's become accustomed to it in her presence. Apology after apology, until he goes numb and doesn't know what it means to be right anymore. Which provides conflict as he has taken on the role of Gotham's dark knight.

What should he do?

What should he do because the girl with the golden hair and piercingly lonely crystal- blue eyes understands but the one with ebony locks and cheerful, sweet but naive brown eyes doesn't?

What should he do because he's thought it over and over again and had decided many times to tell her, to think and hope that she'd understand and support him as he is but is never able to get the words out of his mouth?

What should he do? He wants to ask into the night.

Wants to ask the old man, but isn't sure he'd know either.

Wants to ask Max, but she is also naive. And wouldn't want Dana to be hurt. Neither does she know of the loneliness that comes with this role he's taken up to play, that he might not be alive tomorrow, might not be breathing by the end of the night.

What should he do because sometimes, it's hard to breathe and there's no one to breathe for him.

And maybe, maybe he had been a fool to let her go. And maybe, maybe it was only recently that he began to truly under-
stand her loneliness. And maybe, she took him by surprise when she had cut off all ties with her family to start living an honest life. And maybe, he hates himself for not seeing that she had been born under certain conditions, unable to escape until it had been too late.

And that they had both chosen to stay in their loneliness.

But maybe he doesn't want to admit it yet. Not just yet.

So he tries to smile softly down at Dana as she hugs him tight at the door way and makes sure she'll see him at school tomorrow.

But tonight it's almost painful and he feels the restraints around his heart squeeze. And it's suddenly hard to breathe again.

So he leaves and walks, walks out of the apartment and onto the street. A little quicker this time and he knows, knows in his heart that there's not much more he can take of this. Of her and him. Of them.

And he's never felt so alone.

And he's walking past a restaurant, never mind that he could have parked closer but chose not to.

And tonight he sees her. Out back, leaning against the wall with a steaming drink in hand. Again. Like the last time he'd spoken to her. Except she hadn't known it was him.

But tonight he stops.

And he's rooted in his spot.

And he can't move, can't move past her like he usually does.

And her hair is shining in the moonlight and she heaves a sigh and looks up at the moon.

And she looks tired. Bone-weary.

And he can't control where he's walking because it's breaking his heart to see her this way.

And his hands are jammed in his pockets to hide his insecurity about approaching her, but he can't stop now.

And his foot accidentally kicks a dented metal soda can.

And he forces himself not to wince as it skids and the scratching sound of metal against concrete is amplified due to the enclosed space of the alleyway.

Her head whips to him, startled, and her eyes pierce him and are beautifully light and deep blue at the same time and are illuminated gloriously against the night and bright moon. So clear, so deep, and so beautiful it hurts.

And they knock the breathe out of him.

And he can't breathe, again.

But it's different, this time.

Because he realizes that she is the only one who can breathe for him.

And suddenly, the distance between them is too large.

And suddenly, he wants to hold her. Crush her against him until she's apart of him. Until she realizes that they belong together.

Silly him. It was he who hadn't realized it.

"Terry," she breathes.

And he doesn't know what to say because he is trying to remember how to breathe.

And he sees the joy change to hurt then to sadness and regret and last of all emptiness.

And she looks away and smiles emptily at her cup, "What are you doing here?"

And she tilts her head to stare at the moon. With longing. Because the moon had been there for her and he had not.

"I...came to see you," he says, because his brain had stopped functioning and he couldn't make up a lie at the moment.

And she gives a dry chuckle but does not cease gazing at the moon, "Like what you see?"

And his brain kicks back into gear.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" She says to the moon.

And he's never been so jealous of the moon before.

"I know, but I'd like to apologize anyway," he says.

And he's never been so unsure of what to do, but at the same time he's never been more sure of what he wants. Of what he needs.

"And I'll keep coming back. I'll be here everyday, waiting for you. Until you forgive me. Until you give us another try," he says firmly.

And he's never been so firm with a girl before.

And he's never been so sure that he'd keep his promise. That it didn't matter if he had to walk through fire without his bat suit on to get here and that he'd make it, no matter what it took.

And she smiles sadly, at her cup, "I'm not good enough for you, Terry. I got the message, loud and clear. And I understand-"

"No!" He almost shouts immediately.

"No," he says again softly, "I need you."

And he sees a flicker of joy in her eyes.

And he grows hopeful.

And he walks forward.

"Give me one more chance," he pleads, "I want you. I need you."

And the door bursts open to reveal Jack.

"Melanie?" He says, "You alright?"

And she smiles at her brother, and he sees a soft, genuine love in her smile, "I'm fine, I'll be in soon."

And he's never been so jealous of a girl's brother before.

And Jack doesn't notice Terry, so he disappears back inside.

And she turns to him now, gripping the cup in her hand, her eyes sorrowful and a few of her knuckles turning white, "I hurt you and you hurt me, we both got what we deserved."

"And maybe," she looks away then, "it's best we leave it at that."

And he gets angry.

"Bullshit," he spits out.

And he rushes to her and pulls her to him.

And she gasps and doesn't have time to pull away.

And he crushes his lips against hers and feels her respond almost immediately and he doesn't wait long to thrust his tongue into her mouth.

And her soft tongue grinds against his and they're lost.

And he feels her melt against him and they burn for each other.

And Terry wants to swallow her up, making sure she sees nothing but him, feels nothing but him and would be nothing without him.

And he's never felt such a savage need before.

And he slips his hand under the jacket on her back and her eyes snap open.

And she shoves him away and without a second glance, runs back inside.

He stands there, stunned for a moment at himself. Then he sighs because he doesn't regret it and knows this is as far as he will get for the night.

"You're late," Bruce says immediately.

"I know," Terry says, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't stop the crime that happens while your out fooling around-"

"I know!" Terry yells, and then puts his face in his hands, "I know, I'm sorry," he repeats a little softer, "I ran into someone and got lost in the moment, it won't happen again."

Though that is not a promise he is sure he can keep.

Bruce studies him a little, then says, "You going to be able to do this tonight?"

"Yea," Terry says, "yea I'll be fine."

Bruce only raises an eyebrow, then a light starts flashing on the gigantic keyboard beside him and the old man presses a button, "Looks like they're starting early tonight."

Terry scoffs, "My lucky day."

It's a group of four tonight, moderately experienced and had managed to get in without detection. However it seemed there had been a dispute among the group and one of them had accidentally tripped an alarm.

Well, too bad for them.

Terry whips a batarang and it slices off the top of one bag clutched tight in the thieves hand.

They curse and run as the sounds of police cars are heard.

They escape and Terry gives chase.

The burglars hop over the fence and jump into the private pool area of an apartment complex.

Terry flies and lands. He scans the area and is surprised by their skill to stay hidden. He walks silently along the pool, knees bent and cautious.

Before he can react, a hand shoots from out of the pool and grabs his ankle. With surprising strength from the opponent, he is pulled into the pool and four pairs of hands and arms shoot around him and he's choking, unprepared for the water that's flowing into his lungs. He activates the mini rockets in his boots and bursts out of the water, choking and sputtering as he topples onto the side of the pool.

He rolls out of the way as he sees them charge at him and he doesn't see the chair in his way and bangs his head against it.

"Shit!" he curses as one of the men grabs him and throws him back into the pool.

He hangs on and they both topple in and it's a struggle, both of them trying to keep the other down while using the other to resurface.

By pure chance, the man swings and hits Terry on the head and everything goes black.

The next thing he knows, someone is pulling off his mask and breathing into him.

He coughs up water and he feels his head being lifted by two gentle hands.

"I should have known," he hears a woman's soft voice and his vision focuses to see the one whom he longs for, whom he dreams of, leaning her forehead to his temple, "I should have known it was you."

"Mela-" Terry starts but ends up coughing up more water.

"Shh, they're gone," Melanie says, supporting him so he could sit up. And she cradles his head against her chest and says, "Just breathe, Terry. Just breathe."

And he, does.

A/N: A bit angsty huh? They say Batman Beyond is darker than the other Batman series, but I say it should have been darker.
Still rather enjoyable, nonetheless. So I'm curious and would like to ask a question to those who will review(if any. Compared to the popular categories, there aren't as many Batman Beyond fanfics therefore I come to the conclusion there aren't many readers, but I wanted to get this out anyway), did you like Melanie?
What did you think of her in the series(if you watched it)? What about in here? Did you agree with the way I portrayed her?
If yes or no, why? If you could care less, ignore all of the above. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.