Short fic. I think.

[icarus_chained]

Another short, because it's all I've time to write these days. But ... I'm tempted to say "Nobody kill me!" for this one. It lodged in my brain, and refused to leave, but ... it's so, sooo wrong! Really, incredibly screwy. But anyway. Here you go.

Title: True Deceptions
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: ...... Alfred/J'onn. Young!Alfred / female!J'onn, but still. Help!
Summary: One of J'onn's disguises is someone Alfred recognises. From a long time ago, in a different world.
Disclaimer: The madness is mine. The characters aren't.
Warnings: Aside from the obvious? Cliches. Also, anyone know what you call it when it's het on one side of the equation, and slash on the other?

True Deceptions

Alfred sighed lightly as he rounded the last turn of the Batcave stairs, listening to the quiet, emphatic statements that signified what counted for a raging argument for these particular people. He could only assume that the undercover operation hadn't going quite as well as Oracle had led him to believe, then. Which was rather surprising, considering that one of the people involved was a shapeshifter, another a reporter, and the third ... well, Master Bruce. Unless egos were involved, in which case he could see numerous sources of conflict, but he would have thought their professionalism would outweigh that.

He allowed his features to slip into well-schooled impassivity as he moved out over the walkway towards the island of light containing the three combatants. It was best not cut in while the argument was still ongoing, unless it was absolutely necessary. A few choice comments when tempers had cooled were usually sufficient to sort things out, unless people were being particularly stubborn, and if Master J'onn was involved that wasn't likely to be the case.

When he saw the three of them, though, he had to struggle to maintain the calm demeanor. Oh, Masters Bruce and Clark were exactly as he'd expected them to be, a little battered and a lot icily angry. It was the third figure that caught his attention.

Master J'onn had gone for a feminine disguise this time around, apparently. A rather well put together one, if Alfred was permitted an opinion on the matter. A compact, robust figure, her auburn hair caught back in a loose band, with that stubbornly beautiful Eastern European cast to her strong features and eyes that were as much rusty red as they were brown. It was a perfect profile for the job they were undertaking. And one that he remembered, rather clearly considering the years separating them, with considerable affection.

He had gathered himself before Master Bruce caught sight of him, which alone indicated the vehemence of their little conflict, and stepped forward calmly to lay his tray on the small worksurface next to the console. He pointedly took his time fixing it, allowing them time to start shifting a little in embarrassment. Not that they actually moved a muscle, but the faint aura of shame that rose unbidden at his interuption was plain to anyone who knew them. Only once it had set in did he turn.

"I've taken the liberty of informing Master Dick of the remnants of the ring heading his way," he said dryly. "Miss Barbara has seen to the other matter, I believe. The security recordings detailing Master Clark's little accident have been erased, as per usual." He allowed his tone to become a little pointed at the last, and Bruce nodded stiffly, ignoring Clark's smug look. As far as he was concerned, and if pushed Alfred might have agreed, a mistake was still a mistake.

"Thank you, Alfred," he murmured. Alfred nodded politely, and moved to head back upstairs, but paused at the edge of the light to look back.

"And may I say," he offered, with a slight smile, "that it is a genuine pleasure to see you again, Ms Katerina." The other two merely looked confused, but the shock of shamed recognition through J'onn was enough to let Alfred know he'd been right. He smiled gently, and moved away upstairs.

He'd been back in the kitchen about two minutes, the kettle just starting to settle on the ring, when the knock sounded softly on the doorframe. Alfred looked up from where he sat, and smiled at J'onn's shamed expression on Katerina's face. He stood and pulled out a second chair by the table, gesturing for his companion to sit. After a moment, J'onn stepped hesitantly over, and sat down.

"The tea should be ready in a few moments, if you'd like some," Alfred offered politely, hiding a tiny grin at the Martian's discomfort. "Or I believe I can find some cookies, or even a spot of vodka, if you'd prefer?"

"No," the Martian assured him quickly, his voice the deep and sombre tone Alfred associated with a far more masculine, and greener, form. "I'm fine. I wished ... to explain ..."

Alfred returned to his own seat. "It's quite all right, Master J'onn. It was some time ago, after all, and the world was ... different, then. It's only fitting that we should have been as well," he said softly, and then added with a gentle nod: "And if that form is making you uncomfortable, you may drop it if you wish."

The Martian looked at him for a second, consideringly, and then Katerina's proud features shifted slowly into the more typical green ones. Alfred suppressed the tiny hint of regret as she slipped away again, and smiled.

"It was not intended as a deceit," J'onn tried to explain. "Or, at least not one directed specifically at you. I did not intend ... I had forgotten. It's been ... so long. But I did not intend to decieve you, even then. I ..."

Alfred held up a hand, a wry smile tucked in the corner of his mouth. "Those were different days, Master J'onn. Deception was the name of the game, I do understand." He paused, looking at the still-uncertain expression in those compassionate red eyes. "I'll tell you what," he offered suddenly. "I'll forgive you for hiding the fact that you were male, and an alien, if you'll forgive me for disappearing on you once my shoulder wound had healed."

J'onn looked at him for a moment, and then smiled back, genuine humour in the wry expression. "Well, I suppose you did pay for the hotel room," he teased. "And the first class ticket to Nantes. Not that I needed it, but it was a lovely gesture, and the train was an ... intruiging experience."

Alfred chuckled. "After you'd put up with me for four days, with the temper I was in, it was the least I could do."

J'onn laughed lightly. "You were not a problem, I assure you. A trifle stubborn about not being badly wounded ..." Alfred did not quite glare at him for that. "But as polite and considerate as ever. And a perfect gentleman, even if I may have ... regretted that, a little."

Alfred nodded, his eyebrows creasing in sympathy. "I apologise for taking up so much of your bed. I must have seemed rather a tease, to you, but I fear I am not nearly so neat sleeping as I am conscious."

"Indeed. And you snore, too," J'onn deadpanned, grinning slightly at the snort Alfred couldn't quite repress, before sobering. "But it was ... pleasant ... to lie with someone again. To be close enough to share their dreams, if I'd wished. Not that I did," he added hurriedly. "But it was ... comforting ... to pretend that I could."

Alfred couldn't stop the gentle ache of sympathy inside him. "I remember," he nodded softly. "You seemed so lonely, then. I used to spend all the time you were out thinking how I was going to make you smile when you returned. I'd be waiting for when the door opened, and then you'd come in, push you hair back behind your scarf, and smile at me anyway." He shook his head ruefully, shining a little in remembered warmth. "I think I was more than a little in love with you, to tell the truth." And he had been. It had been what drove him to run as soon as it was humanly possible. He couldn't have afforded her.

J'onn smiled sadly. "You were in love with Katerina, you mean."

Alfred frowned at him. "Please don't start that. I get enough of divided personalities as it is. You are Katerina, as far as I'm concerned. Everything she felt came from you, true?"

J'onn blinked, but nodded. "Yes," he said softly, with a look of vague surprise. Alfred nodded decisively, as if that settled it. And as far as he was concerned, it did. Masks were a way of life, then and now, and it was what lay behind them that counted.

They sat in silence for a moment, neither quite sure what to say after that. The kettle's whistle nearly had Alfred jumping uncharacteristically, and he could see the tremor of movement in his companion that indicated a similar problem. He smiled slightly then, shaking off his malaise to stand and fix himself a cup.

"You want some?" he queried, still smiling faintly, and J'onn shook his head, enough humour in his gaze to let Alfred know that he too was laughing at the pair of them, and what they'd come to. Sitting back down with his cup of tea, Alfred couldn't resist patting his hand conspiratorially, and was rewarded with a returning brush of a powerful thumb.

"Do you mind if I ask why you were in Kiev in the first place?" he asked lightly. "I understand if it's still a secret."

J'onn shook his head, a momentary cloud of disgust filtering over his features. "I was on a case. A kidnapped child. There was a group of men in Kiev who ... specialised in that kind of thing."

Alfred allowed his own lip to curl at the thought. "I remember. The child-slavery ring." He shook his head. "I had not realised I was distracting you from something so important."

"You did not," J'onn murmured, a touch reproachfully. "My part was done, by then. I was resting."

Alfred smiled ruefully. "Then I apologise for having interrupted your holiday."

J'onn laughed. "You were a welcome diversion, I assure you. And I could hardly ignore you when you crashed bleeding through my window, and apologised to me for the inconvenience!" Alfred winced. That was not the part he liked to remember. "Though I will admit to some curiosity as to how that happened ...?" J'onn raised an enquiring eyebrow.

Alfred sighed. "Not much I can say, even now. But ... the Cold War was in full swing, at the time. Let's say I had a part to play, small though it was." He winked in delight as J'onn's eyes widened slightly.

"You mysterious man, you," the Martian laughed. "How very James Bond."

Alfred stiffened in affront. "Certainly not! The man was a crass imitation at best! And not even very good at his job, if you ask me. Why ..." He stopped as he realised that J'onn was struggling manfully to restrain a laugh, and huffed silently to himself. "That was entirely unnecessary, Master J'onn."

The Martian sobered a little. "Just J'onn, please. Alfred. And I could hardly resist. Though I will admit that you had rather more skill with the ladies than that fictional philanderer. This lady, at least." Alfred could swear he winked, and allowed himself the echoing grin.

"Well," he murmured softly, "I've always thought simply treating someone with the consideration they're due is far more effective than petty flattery. Though flattery has its place too. You were very beautiful, after all."

J'onn blushed a little. "That was ... not exactly what I was aiming for," he confessed. Alfred's smile broadened.

"Beauty achieved without thought is truer than beauty painstakingly prepared," he admonished. "And you achieved it. I believe my heart stuttered for a moment, when I saw you again just now."

J'onn looked at him wryly to hide how truly affected he was, but Alfred wasn't fooled. Nonetheless, he allowed the deception. As he had allowed many others. "Is that wise, at your age?" the Martian asked innocently, and Alfred only barely restrained himself from flicking a biscuit at him in annoyance. They grinned a bit at each other, content for a few moments to simply sit in warm silence.

Then J'onn tipped his head to one side, and Alfred sighed.

"Master Bruce, I take it?" he asked, knowing the answer. J'onn nodded.

"We are needed on the tower, but I gather he wants Kal-El and myself to leave as civilians rather than via the teleporter. Apparently we have someone waiting at the gates."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Ms Lane? She works faster every time I meet her. I begin to wonder if there is, indeed, something a little superhuman about her. Then again, considering her choice of companion, it is hardly surprising, I suppose." J'onn only looked at him, and Alfred supressed a grin as a terrible idea occured to him. "Though, if you are to accompany Master Clark, might I suggest a less ... beautiful ... disguise? We wouldn't want to give the wrong impression, after all."

J'onn narrowed his eyes, but Alfred had mastered his poker face a long, long time ago, and returned the look innocently. It fooled the Martian about as well as his earlier dissembling had fooled Alfred. "I can sense you're up to something, you know," he commented lightly, and Alfred shrugged.

"Might I suggest something in a tie," he murmured by way of response. J'onn looked at him for another minute, then shrugged and shifted smoothly to his usual John Jones shape, complete with tie.

"Will this suit, do you think?" J'onn asked, just the right flavour of sarcasm in the tone. Alfred smiled.

Standing, he walked over to the taller man and raised a hand to touch the knot at the top of the tie. He tutted gently. "As I expected. Even when you can call it up fully formed, you don't know how to tie a tie."

J'onn blinked at him, but Alfred focused on the feel of the Martian silk as he pulled it gently free of the coat, and neatly undid it. He knew J'onn was shifting slightly to allow it, bemused by his actions. He smiled sadly as he carefully retied the knot, wondering how the sensation of his aged, cautious fingers would feel to his Martian friend, and was careful to smooth the ersatz tie gently as he laid it back down. "I'm glad you are no longer quite so lonely, my friend," he murmured softly, without looking up.

J'onn was still for a long minute, looking down at him, and then he bent suddenly to kiss each of Alfred's wrinkled cheeks in turn, as she had done on that last morning before going out to return to an empty room and a first class ticket to Nantes. Alfred's face creased at the gesture, half a smile and half regret, and he patted J'onn gently on the chest.

"I'm glad you have found the family you deserved," the Martian rumbled, and although it was sincerely meant, Alfred frowned at the hint of gentle humour floating beneath the words. Then he reconsidered them, and poked J'onn stiffly in the ribs in retaliation.

"I'll have you know I was never as bad as Master Bruce!" he huffed, and J'onn laughed.

"Of course not." Then mischief drifted over his features. "I feel I should say something like 'We'll always ...'" Alfred cut him off hurriedly.

"If you quote Casablanca at me, I shall not be responsible for my actions! A simple goodbye will do nicely, thank you." J'onn chuckled.

"Goodbye then. Until the next alien invasion or undercover operation, at least."

Alfred nodded as he watched him leave. The world was certainly a different place, now, he reflected. The masks people wore were different shapes. But the feelings behind them? Those were always the same.

He shook his head, and went to sort out the mess Master Bruce had undoubtedly left in the Batcave.