Disclaimer:  All characters (other than Erica Silver and the Silver Fox) 
are copyright of Warner Brothers and D.C. Comics  (I think).

The Silver Fox Saga: Part 1


	"Somehow, this doesn't fit my definition of a slow night," Terry 
muttered as he dodged gunfire.  "These errands are hazardous to your 
health."  He dove behind a pile of crates and wondered what he'd do 
next.  Suddenly, one of the burglars emitted a loud cry and Terry 
abruptly turned to see what had happened.  A girl stood in a ring made 
up of the remaining three burglars, wearing a silver suit and silver 
boots.  Burglar Number Four was lying unmoving on the floor.  
	As the burglars circled her, trying to decide what to do with the 
newcomer in their midst, she continued to spin to face them, her long, 
gold-brown hair swinging about her like a curtain, a thin, silver 
strand flashing for an instant before disappearing.
	Terry was about to intervene, when the tide abruptly shifted.  
The girl leapt forward, kicking the nearest of the burglars square in 
the chest.  As he dropped like a stone, the girl grabbed the gun he'd 
been holding and aimed at the remaining two burglars.  
	"I don't like to use these things," she growled, "but I will if I 
have to.  Now, back off!"  
	The duo looked at each other, silently debating the situation.  
Suddenly, the realization struck them that there were two of them, one 
of her, and that they both had guns.  They turned, grinning maliciously 
at their female adversary.  
	She sighed.  "Oh well.  Can't blame a girl for trying," she said, 
seemingly giving up.  Quickly, she threw the gun at the two burglars 
shouting, "Here!  Catch!"
	It hit one of them in the stomach and he fell to the ground with 
a grunt of surprise.  The last burglar was too busy staring at his 
fallen partner to notice the girl leaping forward and kicking him in 
the side of the head.  He crumpled to the ground unconscious.  The 
burglar who had been hit with the gun was now back on his feet, 
however.
	"No you don't," the girl grinned, punching him in the face.  He 
joined his unconscious friend on the floor.
	The girl cocked her head to the side and remarked to no one in 
particular, "Why is it the men I meet always seem to run tall, dark, 
and stupid?"
	At this point, Terry stepped out from behind the crates, dazed 
and surprised.  The girl only smiled and said simply, "I'll take that 
as a `thank you.'"  Leaving it at that, she raced off.
	"Wait!" Terry shouted to her retreating figure.  "Who are you?"
	"The Silver Fox!" she shouted back over her shoulder, right 
before disappearing between the labyrinth of aisles in the warehouse.

	At first, Terry brushed it off as nothing more than a freak 
occurrence, something that would never happen again.  But he was wrong.  
The Silver Fox began to appear more and more frequently, so much in 
fact, that the media began to take notice of her.  
 	 Terry was walking home from school one day, lost deep in thought 
what to do with the matter of the Silver Fox, when he walked straight 
into someone.  He looked up quickly, then back down at his feet, 
visibly embarrassed.  
	"Uh..I..uh..I'm..,"  Terry muttered, struggling to apologize.
	The person he had run into laughed.  "I'll take that as an `I'm 
sorry'," a familiar voice said.  "Next time, watch where you're going, 
okay?"
	Terry looked up again, longer than before.  The face was one he 
vaguely recognized.  The girl simply grinned and continued walking, her 
long, gold-brown hair swinging slightly as she walked.  Then, for only 
a moment, a thin, silver strand was revealed.  
	Without even thinking, Terry raced forward and grabbed her arm. 
"You.,"  he whispered.  "..Silver Fox."
	"Ooo!" she exclaimed, joking.  "You think I'm a fox, huh?  I'm 
really that cute?"
	"No.," Terry said, thinking perhaps he'd gotten the wrong person.  
"That's not what I meant.."
	"I know," she replied, her tone suddenly changing.  "And know 
about your little night life, too."
	"But how.?" Terry whispered in shock.  
	She smiled.  "You're not the only one with some toys, Batboy.  I 
followed you after you left the warehouse that night and put a tracker 
on your car.  I doubted that the kid leaving the building where the 
Batmobile was was just there to do valet parking for the Dark Knight.  
By the way, my name's Erica.  Erica Silver.  Listen, I'd love to chat 
more, but somehow I get the feeling that a busy street isn't the best 
place to discuss our night lives.  I have to go."
	"How will I find you again?" Terry asked, worried that his new 
found ally might disappear.  
	Erica only smiled and said, "Oh, come on.  I'm sure your source 
can find out where I live."  
	"How do you know I have- Why do you think I have a source?" Terry 
wondered out loud.  
	"That was the easy part, junior," Erica grinned.  "Somebody as 
young as you couldn't be doing all this without some help." 

	Terry didn't have long to wait for his next encounter with Erica.  
It was Friday night and he had headed to a new club, called 
Gothamites' Den.  So far, Wayne hadn't called him off on any "errands" 
and he was doing his best to enjoy the beginning of his weekend.  
Suddenly, a silver motorcycle pulled right up to the curb.  The rider 
leapt skillfully off and undid the straps on the helmet they wore.  A 
cascade of gold-blond hair came tumbling out from underneath.  Erica 
turned and looked at him.
	"Well," she grinned, "fancy meeting you here."
	She parked the bike and took a place in line.  A few moments 
later, a familiar red car pulled up.
	"Oh no," Erica heard Terry mutter.
	Nelson emerged from the car, three of his cronies in tow, and 
calmly sidled up beside the new girl.     
	"So," he grinned, attempting to turn on his limited charm.  "You 
new here?  You know, you might need someone to stay with you, show you 
around.  After all, Gotham can be a dangerous place.  And you, being 
all alone, might to be able to take care of your self.  I mean, a 
girl.by herself, you need someone.to protect you."
	Nelson continued to talk on and on, mostly about the dangers of 
being alone in Gotham, but occasionally about himself and the many 
championships he'd won, etc.  Finally, Erica had enough.  She swung her 
right leg back, kicking him hard between the legs.  While Nelson 
doubled over with a small noise of surprise, Erica darted around behind 
him and kicked him as hard as she could.  Nelson dropped to the 
pavement.  In an instant, Erica was on top of him, pulling his arm 
behind him and one foot triumphantly on his back.
	"Listen," she said, her voice making her irritation quite clear, 
"I really, really, really don't like getting hit on by stupid jocks 
who's favorite hobbies are talking about themselves and picking up 
girls who aren't interested.  I came here to enjoy my weekend and get 
away from creeps like you that I have to deal with at Gotham U."
	"Gotham U?" Nelson whispered in surprise.  
	"Yes, that's right," Erica replied, smiling at his shock.  "I'm 
in college.  I'm going to Gotham University.  I'm two years older than 
you and twenty years more mature.  Here's some advice for the future.  
One, if a girl appears uninterested, she probably is.  Two, if a girl 
makes no comment to your incessant remarks about yourself, she's 
probably really uninterested.  Three, if a girl pins you to the 
concrete, she's probably trying to tell you something."
	Leaving it at that, Erica got up and calmly walked past the line 
of shocked teenagers, stopping in front of the door.
	"What?" she asked the bouncer.  "Do I have to pin you, too?"
He pondered this for a moment, then opened the door.
	By the time Terry got inside, Erica was sitting at the bar, idly 
twirling a straw in her drink.  As he entered, she beckoned to him to 
come over, smiling.  
	"I was wondering when you'd get here," she said.  "So, what did 
you think of my little escapade out there?"
	"All I can say is he deserved it," Terry grinned.
	"Did he stick around?" she asked, her eagerness plainly visible.
	"Nope, he left when he thought no one was looking, while you were 
talking to the bouncer," he replied.  "He was so embarrassed..."  Terry 
couldn't help but snicker.
	"Were there any kids from your school in line?"  Erica wanted to 
know.
	"A couple, I think," Terry shrugged.  "Either way, almost 
everyone will know about it by Monday."
	Suddenly, Erica got a strange look on her face.  "You know," she 
remarked casually, "this is a club.  People have a tendency to dance at 
places like this."
	While Terry struggled to find the words to ask Erica onto the 
dance floor, she only smiled and grabbed him gently by the arm and 
dragged him out there herself.  
	
	As they left the club, Erica turned to Terry and said, "Listen, 
I've got some stuff to tell you.  But now's not the time. I'll let you 
know when."
	With that, she got on her bike and drove off.
	About a week later, Terry's cell phone rang.  He flipped it open 
expectantly, wondering what "errand" Wayne wanted him to run now.  
	"Yeah, what is it, Wayne?" he asked.
	"Hi-ya, junior," said a familiar voice on the other end.  "It's 
time.  We need to talk."
	"Erica?!?" he shouted in shock.  "How'd you get this number?"
	"I used the phone book.  Anyway, I told you I'd call you when I 
was ready to talk.  I'm ready now.  Hope this isn't an inconvenient 
time," she said.  Terry could practically see the grin on her face.  
"Oh, by the way, thanks for letting me know who your source is.  It's 
been driving me crazy for weeks."
	Terry remained speechless as Erica gave him her address.  "Come 
as soon as you can, no rush of course," she assured, and saying nothing 
more, she hung up.
	
	He stared upward at the apartment building in front of him, then 
glanced back down at the piece of paper in his hand.  This was the 
place.  With a shrug, he walked inside, taking the elevator up the 
floor Erica had indicated on the phone. That was when he realized he 
had a problem.  She hadn't told him the apartment number.  Then he 
noticed a small plaque on the wall, with the apartment number and name 
of every tenant on the floor.  There it was, E. Silver-# 23.  He walked 
nonchalantly down the hall, carefully eyeing the apartment numbers as 
he went.   After only passing a few other apartments, he found number 
23.  Having no other alternative, he knocked and waited for some 
response from within.  Just as he thought he heard a voice from inside 
the apartment, the door opened.  Erica stood before him, grinning.  
"Wondered where you were," she said, stepping aside to let him in.  "I 
said no rush, but I didn't expect you to take all millennium.  Oh well, 
I suppose since slow people bother me that much, I should have been 
more specific." 
	She lead him into the living room.  It was simply but nicely 
furnished, a couch and two chairs across from each other with a small 
coffee table between and a bookcase stood by the corner.  A large 
window that occupied most of one wall gave them a clear view of the 
small park on that level. People cut through it on the way home from 
work, eager to start their weekend as soon as possible.
	Terry sat on the couch, while Erica sat across from him in one of 
the chairs.
	"Listen," she said, "I've got a lot of stuff I want to say, so I 
hope you don't mind me kind of unloading.  I'm sure you had your 
reasons for donning the BatSuit, just like I had mine for the Fox 
costume.  My mom .. used to work for Wayne-Powers.  She was on of the 
clerks, dealt mostly with files and stuff.  One day, she found some 
files that proved Wayne-Powers, more specifically Powers himself, had 
been up to some illegal stuff.  She wasn't sure what to do, so she sent 
a e-mail to Wayne.  She did it from Powers computer, so it wouldn't 
lead back to her.  She was. . .afraid that Powers would . . .come after 
her if he knew what she was doing.  Well, Wayne tipped off the cops, 
anonymously of course, saying how he'd been told of a clerk who found 
some of Power's dirty little secrets.  Anyway, there was a huge 
investigation, but, to no one's surprise, they found no files.  They'd 
probably been destroyed long before the police showed up.  So, to 
contradict the absence of the files, my mom spoke up and was going to 
testify at a trial.  But . . . about two weeks before the trial .. she 
. . . she was killed.  The cops said it looked like Jokers, but 
everyone knew, though they couldn't prove it, Powers had his grubby 
little hands in it.  I'm convinced the whole thing was Fixxed.  It's a 
little name I came up with for when Powers sends that crony, or rather, 
ex-crony of his to go do the dirty work and bump somebody off.  After 
that, well, I got a little job that pays good.  They let me work my 
hours whenever I want to after school.  Hope your employer doesn't mind 
me working for the competition."
	"Huh?" Terry asked, speaking for the first time since Erica began 
her story.
	Erica smiled.  "You know," she hinted cryptically, "you work for 
Wayne.  I've got a job in the cyber-electronics division at FoxTeca.  
I'm the youngest one there, but I'm good so they don't care about my 
age."
	Terry grinned at her.  "So is that where the `Fox' comes from?" 
he asked.
	She grinned back.  "I was wondering if you'd catch that.  I 
suppose it is, slightly."
	Terry glanced down at his watch.  "Oops!  I gotta go.  Hate to 
leave in such a hurry, but if I'm not home soon, my mom will think I've 
fallen off the face of the Earth and call the cops or something."
	As he left, Erica said, "Hey, listen.  Tell your . . . employer 
that the daughter of `a friend on the inside' says hi.  See if he knows 
what I'm talking about."

	After he was home, Terry locked the door to his room to prevent 
any invasions from his little brother and called Wayne.  He told him 
about everything that had occurred: Erica getting the phone number, how 
she now knew who his "source" is, and all about the story she told him. 
	"Oh, yeah," Terry said, remembering.  "She told me to tell you 
that.let me be sure I get this right . . . the daughter of `a friend on 
the inside' says hi.  Mean anything to you?"
	There was a long pause on the other end.  Just as Terry was about 
to ask if he was still there, Wayne responded.  "The e-mail," he said.  
"The e-mail I received about the files..it was signed `a friend on the 
inside.'  I'm the only one who ever saw that e-mail.  Erica is most 
definitely who she says she is.  And McGinnis, for the future, don't 
say `Wayne' when you answer the phone.  It's might not be me on the 
other end."

	It was Monday, not Erica's favorite day of the week by any means.  
At least, she thought to herself, classes were over and she could go 
home and relax before heading to FoxTeca.  She pulled onto the main 
road and, three lights later, she turned left down her street.  She 
didn't see the truck until it was on top of her.

TO BE CONTINUED...

You like?  Q&A? Comments? E-mail me at MSnyder205@aol.com.  Remember: 
Put fanfic, Silver Fox, Silver Fox fanfic, or something like that in 
the subject box so I don't thinks its spam or a virus and delete it.  
Okay!  I'll get Part 2 in as soon as I can.  `Till then...you'll just 
have to wait and drive yourself crazy about what happens next.  On 
second thought, don't do that.  `Cause then you might be too deranged 
to operate a mouse.  Then where would you be?