On a large, four-post bed, Bruce and Terry curled up asleep.  Bruce on his back, slightly propped up with pillows, one arm holding Terry, lying on his chest, ear over his heart, and one arm across his waist.  Bruce's head slightly turned towards Terry, both naked to the folded blankets at their waists.  What moonlight that makes it through the blinks shines silver in Bruce's hair, black in Terry's.  Ace is curled at the foot of the bed, guarding his masters' sleep.

In one corner of the Batcave is Terry, practicing his katas.  Flowing through them like water, eyes turned inward as he concentrated  on his forms.  Dark gi only making his motions more fluid.

Bruce sitting on the leather couch, Terry kneeling in his lap, facing away, head against Bruce's shoulder, eyes closed.  One of Terry's hands behind Bruce's neck for balance as they moved together, the other over Bruce's at his groin.  Licking and nipping at neck and ear, Bruce sent his free hand roaming over Terry's chest, teasing and tweaking a nipple then tracing Terry's mouth before sliding two fingers inside.  A flash of pink as Terry licked, then started sucking the digits.  A soft whine of protest as Terry tried to increase the pace and Bruce prevented it.

Terry, asleep and lying on his stomach, one arm under the pillow.  Dark hair mussed and partially over face, lashes dark sweeps.  Skin of his back pale against the hunter green sheets, blankets folded and bunched just below the top curve of his buttocks.   Legs shapes and lines under the blankets.

Bruce standing next to the Batcar, Ace at his feet.  Terry partway into the vehicle, costumed but with the cowl off.  A quick kiss to Bruce and he pulls the cowl on as he enters the car, canopy sliding into place.  Bruce and Ace step back as the car powers up and takes off.

Terry and Ace in the living room, roughhousing.  Both being careful of the other.  They separate, then Ace pounces Terry, growling and barking playfully.  They roll together awhile before landing with Ace on top of Terry, being held firmly.  Both notice the legs at the same time and look up to see Bruce looking at them, a disapproving set to his face.  Ace barks an invitation to him as Terry simply grins sunnily.

Terry laying on a twin bed, legs splayed wide, head back and eyes closed,  sweat gleaming on his skin as he fists his erection.  Frieze sitting on the edge of the bed watching as Terry's other hand drifts down to play with his scrotum.  He gasps as a gloved hand reaches up to pinch a nipple.    (Ha, got Frieze and Terry together.  Toldja I could do it.)

The Lynne and the Lurker, Batman Beyond Nest Logo: Terry wearing a pair of soft dark pants that almost fit like a second skin and soft ankle boots of the same color.  A dark red sash wraps his waist, accentuating slim waist and hips.  Chest bare, pale skin contrasting with the color of the pants and sash.  Black doeskin encircles throat and both wrists, a red leather string wrapped several times around his left bicep and left dangling.  He stands with body slightly turned away, and facing forward.  Bruce Wayne stands behind and slightly to one side, wearing a tailored, black suit that accentuates his broad shoulders.  A beautiful and subtly carved cane in one hand.      (Think I should have it OOTP Bruce?- Black hair with white at the temples, cut of the suit contrasting his broad shoulders with his trim waist.  Still has the cane.)

Bruce and Terry on bed together, blankets kicked to their feet., both naked and comfortable with it.  Terry, propped on one elbow, traces a scar on the supine Bruce's chest, asking where it came from.

Bruce sitting on a park bench, a bemused smile on his face as he watches Ace and Terry chase each other over the open area as they play with the Frisbee.

A pale, faintly trembling Bruce sitting in a wingback chair, with a concerned Terry crouched next to him, one hand on the chair arm and the other wrapped around Bruce's wrist.  Ace sitting at the other side, his head on his master's lap, whining softly.

A sated Bruce curled around Terry, whispering in his ear as Terry pleasures himself for Bruce.  The older man not touching the younger, using his voice alone to arouse. A company gathering, both men in their best suits, cut to best flatter each.  Each watching the other, seeing the reactions the other gets from the other guests.  Each with their own following of flatterers.

Goth Terry- hair elegantly mussed and gelled to stay.  Eyes ringed with kohl, making them even bluer and face subtly made up.  Heavy black velvet tunic with red highlights, tailored to show off shoulders and waist and closed with silver buttons, with more on the sleeves.  A high collar with spade-shaped cutout at throat framing a small black gothic cross accented with silver and red jewels over white silk shirt with band collar.  Layered lace at cuffs almost covers hands.  Heavy silver ring on left hand, ornately carved.  Black leather pants show off legs and make them seem even longer.  Black ankle boots of soft leather complete outfit.       (Think I should replace that cross with a bat-shape- dark red like on costume)

Crossdressing Terry- Pale skin between the tops of the tall, heeled boots and the bottom of the miniskirt. Cropped top shows off the flat stomach, soft padding underneath to simulate a small bust.  A maxi-coat hiding the masculine breadth of the shoulders.  Face subtly made up and hair gelled to "just out of bed".

In a private jet, the largest bedroom, a young Bruce holds a sleeping Terry as he gazes out the port and thinks.  One hand absently stroking Terry's hair and shoulder.

Using soft, teasing touches, Terry positions Bruce where he wants him and then slowly arouses him to wake, bringing him fully into the waking world by taking Bruce's erect cock into himself.  Grinning at Bruce as he wakes to find himself balls deep into Terry.  And laughing as Bruce lunges to change position to ride him hard.  Gasping as Bruce takes his mouth while fisting his cock.

Just finished with a shared shower, Terry lovingly drying Bruce, exchanging lazy kisses not meant to arouse. In the cave, the batsuit laid out for repairs.  Bruce looking over Terry's shoulder, teaching him to fix a circuit.

Talia's body with Ra's al Ghul's soul, gesturing imperiously for an unconscious Terry to be removed as a groggy Bruce strains against those holding him.

In a private Jet, Terry is arguing with a young Bruce Wayne.  With one final word, Bruce turns and starts to walk away, but  Terry grabs his arm before he gets very far.  Turning to his protege, he grasps Terry's wrists were they hold his lapels and opens his mouth.  Before he can say anything, a frustrated Terry growls, then takes his mouth in a kiss.

Terry, wearing one of Bruce's turtlenecks, and nothing else.  The fine grey fabric cowling slightly at the neck, emphasizing the slenderness of it and partially covering Terry's hands.  The hem of the garment barely long enough to keep him decent., resting at the top of long, slender thighs.

Terry in one of Bruce's shirts, sleepily rubbing his eyes as he nods to Bruce as he passes him on the way to raiding kitchen fridge.  At the small table, Bruce sits watching Terry as he leans over, the hem of the shirt as it rides up slightly to expose the bottom curve of Terry's buttocks.  He watches for a few moments before silently getting up and moving behind Terry, startling a small squeak out of him as Bruce slides a hand over the smooth skin and under the hem

Again Terry in one of Bruce's shirts, a dark blue button-down this time, greeting Bruce as he emerges from the shower, kissing the taller man as he slides his hands under  the robe to caress Bruce's still damp chest.  Sliding up to stand on his toes as Bruce slips his hands under the hem of the shirt.  Giving the firm flesh under his hands a brief squeeze, Bruce then lefts Terry, who wraps his legs around his waist, never breaking, only deepening, the kiss.

A large bath, scented water splashing slightly as Terry rocked on Bruce's lap.  The fingers of one hand tracing familiar features before being drawn into Bruce's mouth. Bruce face down on the bed, Terry astride, giving a massage, Movements slowly becoming more sensuous.  Gently arousing, without tensing, ruining hours of work.  Slowly preparing, leaning over the muscled back as long legs spread.  Sinking into tight heat with soft moans from both and a kiss to Bruce's back before starting a slow, leisurely rhythm.

Bruce, slightly pale but otherwise well, with Terry, in a pure white nurse's uniform, fluffing his pillow.  Hiding it as best he can, looking at the top tailored to show off broad shoulders and a narrow waist, short skirt barely decent, with fine white stockings emphasizing long legs.  White heels clicking softly as Terry moved around the bed.  White nurse's cap making his hair look all the darker, delicately applied makeup only enhancing fine features.

Shutting down the computer with a single flick, Terry turns towards the car, calling for Ace, who immediately rises.  The plain wooden cane next to the empty chair gleams softly as the canopy slides into place and the car lifts.

Mind carefully blank, Commisioner Gordon enters the foyer of the large mansion. The first thing she sees is the black bodybag being gently lifted onto the gurney, almost hiding both the boy and the dog.  The Dane was huddled close to McGinnis, ears drooped and whining pitifully.  As she watched McGinnis pulled the animal closer to him and gently rubbed its ears, tears escaping down his cheeks.     (Wah, we killed Bruce!  )