Jonathan pushed Martha gently back onto the bed in his hotel room.
"Should you call your dad and let him know you won't be home tonight?"
"No," she replied quietly, her eyes flicking sideways. "He'll just order me home, and I don't want to fight tonight."
"I don't think he likes me," Jonathan managed a humorous smile. Martha shrugged, reaching up and pulling him down to lie beside her. She held his hand, letting their fingers entwine.
"No, he doesn't," she replied honestly. "It doesn't matter if he doesn't like you though. It's my choice and you're my choice." Her eyes searched his. "I love you Jonathan. For coming out all this way, for everything-"
"I love you too," Jonathan replied, leaning forward, their foreheads resting together. They lay together for several minutes, before he continued. "Can we talk?"
"Always," she replied, pulling her head back and looking at him again, a look that made him melt, made him want to kiss her over and over... She smiled, then, and he blushed, realising he hadn't said anything. "Did you want to talk to me or should I start on the weather?" He laughed, rolling onto his back and taking her hand in his. She watched him play with her fingers, running his own over her hand and gripping it tightly. "What is it Jonathan?"
"I'm so proud of you-" He felt her smile beside him and continued. "And I know your dad's been saying a lot of stuff to you-"
"Please don't think I listen." She propped herself up on her elbow, looking down at him. "You think I do?" He shrugged.
"He is your father."
"Sure he is, but he doesn't understand me. He doesn't understand what I want."
"And that is?"
"What do you think?" she asked, the corner of her lip slipping up. She leant down, kissing him deeply. When she pulled back he was watching her as though nothing had happened. "I want you, silly," she laughed. "My dad can't control my life. Is that what's bugging you?"
"A little."
"How long can you stay did you say?"
"A week or two."
"Stay with us. It's cheaper-" He began to protest but she covered his mouth with her fingers. "It's cheaper and I want my dad to know where this is headed. You'll find, though, that he's hardly home before we get up or go to bed, so he probably won't even realise for several days."
*
Martha's father came home the next week to find the farm boy, Jonathan, or whatever it was, in his house, making out with his daughter against the kitchen fridge. Neither of them realised, and so to be fair he turned and walked back to the front door, opening and closing it again with an extra loud bang. A few seconds later he walked into the kitchen and they were leaning against the kitchen bench talking. Martha's face was flushed and Jonathan looked just as flustered, although he hid it better.
"Hi dad," Martha began. "How was work?"
"What's Jonathan doing here?"
"He's staying here for another week-"
"Don't you have a farm to run? Not very responsible-"
"It's being rented at the moment, so that I could have some time up here-"
"Why would you want time up here?"
"I couldn't be up any earlier, for your wife's funeral, and I wanted to make it up to your daughter."
"I think you've made up for it enough."
"Dad," Martha stepped in. "He's staying. I'm twenty-two, and if he goes, I go."
"What about when he goes back then?"
"I'm going with him." Jonathan watched Martha staring her father down defiantly.
"That's not a good idea, Martha."
"What can you do, dad? I can make my own decisions."
"You're not as independent as you think you are."
"Yes I am, dad. If you knew me, then you'd know that." She turned to Jonathan. "Let's go out for dinner, yeah?"
"Sure," Jonathan replied.
*
Several days passed and Martha and Jonathan barely saw her father. He was always gone before they rose in the morning and purposely stayed back at work until he knew they'd be in bed. Jonathan came to see Martha's father the morning he was due to leave.
"Jonathan, here to tell me you won't be back?"
"No, sir," Jonathan stated, uncomfortable.
"Well then you're wasting your time."
"Despite what you think of me, I love your daughter very much, and I'm here to ask for your permission to marry her-"
"No," he replied quickly.
"May I ask why?" Jonathan knew he had to keep his temper in check.
"Because I will not let my daughter throw her life away by marrying some hick farmer that couldn't possibly support her."
"I don't consider myself 'some hick farmer'-"
"Listen, Jonathan, frankly, Martha's only going out with you to piss me off. She's not serious about this."
"We've discussed this together several times, and she has a few loose ends to tie up here first-" Jonathan stopped as the man stood and walked around the other side of his desk.
"My daughter is not going to move out to the middle of nowhere, to some shack, where's she's exposed to all sorts of redneck hicks who are out to get her-"
"Smallville's not like that-"
"I don't care. She's not going."
"In all regard, you can't stop her."
"And you can't force her. So please, leave now. Never come back." Jonathan raised an eyebrow.
"I want you to know there's no force involved here, and I'm not some client you can just dismiss-" Jonathan held his ground as the man took another step forward, in his face.
"I'm serious. Never come back. Here, or to my house, and stay away from my daughter."
"You never said that before-"
"I thought she'd get over you. You don't deserve her, understood? And she sure as hell doesn't deserve you. You can't provide for her, all you'll do is lock her up in a house somewhere, she won't work, she won't be happy-"
"This is your daughter, not your wife!" Jonathan exclaimed. The man grabbed him and before Jonathan knew what he was doing he pushed him away. Martha's father stumbled back, hitting the back of his desk. "I'm not going to fight you for her. You have no idea about who your daughter is and what she wants. I promise you, I'll never come back, and neither will she."
*
Martha was leaning against the trunk of her car and she smiled as she saw Jonathan emerge from the large building. He walked towards her, looking sullen but managing a smile anyway. Her smile faded, however, as he got closer. She knew her father wasn't going to have liked the idea of her moving away to live with Jonathan, anyway. Gentleman as he was, though, he had insisted on asking him regardless. It wasn't even as though he was asking permission to marry her or anything.
"That well, huh?" she asked.
"I gotta be honest with you Martha, I hit him."
"What did he say?"
"That you weren't going anywhere, you weren't going to waste your life with some hick. He tried to shove me out and I hit back. Sorry." She shook her head, reaching up and resting a hand on his cheek.
"It's okay. He asked for it." Jonathan nodded, quietly. "What's the matter?" Jonathan sighed.
"You sure?"
"Of course I'm sure." She hugged him tightly. "And you're no hick, Jon," she whispered, kissing him softly. "Okay?" He smiled in the kiss, pulling her closer.
"Okay," he replied. "Take you to dinner tonight?" She pulled back, handing him the car keys.
"Sure."
*
"That was fantastic, Jonathan," Martha mentioned as they walked hand in hand from the restaurant. "How long have you had that booked? Must've taken ages to get a table!"
"I have a friend who got us in," Jonathan replied, slipping their hands apart and wrapping an arm around her waist. "So, where to now?"
"We could go and sit in the courtyard for a while," Martha stated casually. "I think I saw a sign up for a couple of bands playing around there tonight."
"Not sick of dancing yet hey?" She laughed.
"I said sit, Jonathan. Thinking, thinking..."
"Hey!" he laughed, joking with her. "Okay then." They walked over to the park and found an empty bench behind a hedge. On the other side was a jazz band, and in front of them, were several couples out for the night, dancing and partying. They were close enough to enjoy the music, but still had their privacy. Martha leaned into Jonathan and closed her eyes.
"Do you have to go tomorrow?" she asked. He nodded, running a hand up her arm and back down reassuringly.
"Yeah, but you won't be far behind, 'member?"
"Yeah, I remember." She smiled. "How could I forget." They fell into silence long enough for the song to change.
"Martha-" Jonathan began softly.
"Mm?"
"I have a confession." He nudged her and she sat up, turning to face him, her eyes wide.
"Okay."
"I didn't go up there today and ask for you to move in with me." Martha raised an eyebrow. "I asked for, and was declined, permission to do this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. "The reason I was several minutes later than planned for your graduation-" He opened it to reveal a thin, gold band with a small emerald centred, surrounded by several smaller diamonds. Martha's lower jaw had dropped and she looked up at him open-mouthed. Jonathan suddenly got very scared and hesitated, but saw a smile in her eyes and managed to get through it eventually. "I love you Martha, I've loved you since you first spoke to me. Please, will you marry me?" Martha nodded carefully, not in hesitation but in an effort not to cry. Jonathan took the ring out of its box and slid it part-ways onto her finger, before looking up into her eyes. "Say it," he whispered. A couple of tears rolled down her cheek and she laughed.
"Yes, yes I'll marry you." As she spoke he fit the ring on and she glanced at it momentarily, before leaning forward and kissing Jonathan deeply. He kissed her back, before hugging her tightly and feeling her start to cry a little. "I love you," she whispered, leaning into him. He kissed the top of her head, rocking her gently, his eyes closing.
"You've got no excuse not to be right behind me tomorrow-" She looked up at him, biting her bottom lip.
"I think I can tie up those loose ends from Smallville."
"Really?" She nodded.
"I better get packing but." Jonathan leant down and they kissed again.
"Can I help?" he asked. She grinned, standing and pulling him with her, as if that was any indication.
*
"Should you call your dad and let him know you won't be home tonight?"
"No," she replied quietly, her eyes flicking sideways. "He'll just order me home, and I don't want to fight tonight."
"I don't think he likes me," Jonathan managed a humorous smile. Martha shrugged, reaching up and pulling him down to lie beside her. She held his hand, letting their fingers entwine.
"No, he doesn't," she replied honestly. "It doesn't matter if he doesn't like you though. It's my choice and you're my choice." Her eyes searched his. "I love you Jonathan. For coming out all this way, for everything-"
"I love you too," Jonathan replied, leaning forward, their foreheads resting together. They lay together for several minutes, before he continued. "Can we talk?"
"Always," she replied, pulling her head back and looking at him again, a look that made him melt, made him want to kiss her over and over... She smiled, then, and he blushed, realising he hadn't said anything. "Did you want to talk to me or should I start on the weather?" He laughed, rolling onto his back and taking her hand in his. She watched him play with her fingers, running his own over her hand and gripping it tightly. "What is it Jonathan?"
"I'm so proud of you-" He felt her smile beside him and continued. "And I know your dad's been saying a lot of stuff to you-"
"Please don't think I listen." She propped herself up on her elbow, looking down at him. "You think I do?" He shrugged.
"He is your father."
"Sure he is, but he doesn't understand me. He doesn't understand what I want."
"And that is?"
"What do you think?" she asked, the corner of her lip slipping up. She leant down, kissing him deeply. When she pulled back he was watching her as though nothing had happened. "I want you, silly," she laughed. "My dad can't control my life. Is that what's bugging you?"
"A little."
"How long can you stay did you say?"
"A week or two."
"Stay with us. It's cheaper-" He began to protest but she covered his mouth with her fingers. "It's cheaper and I want my dad to know where this is headed. You'll find, though, that he's hardly home before we get up or go to bed, so he probably won't even realise for several days."
*
Martha's father came home the next week to find the farm boy, Jonathan, or whatever it was, in his house, making out with his daughter against the kitchen fridge. Neither of them realised, and so to be fair he turned and walked back to the front door, opening and closing it again with an extra loud bang. A few seconds later he walked into the kitchen and they were leaning against the kitchen bench talking. Martha's face was flushed and Jonathan looked just as flustered, although he hid it better.
"Hi dad," Martha began. "How was work?"
"What's Jonathan doing here?"
"He's staying here for another week-"
"Don't you have a farm to run? Not very responsible-"
"It's being rented at the moment, so that I could have some time up here-"
"Why would you want time up here?"
"I couldn't be up any earlier, for your wife's funeral, and I wanted to make it up to your daughter."
"I think you've made up for it enough."
"Dad," Martha stepped in. "He's staying. I'm twenty-two, and if he goes, I go."
"What about when he goes back then?"
"I'm going with him." Jonathan watched Martha staring her father down defiantly.
"That's not a good idea, Martha."
"What can you do, dad? I can make my own decisions."
"You're not as independent as you think you are."
"Yes I am, dad. If you knew me, then you'd know that." She turned to Jonathan. "Let's go out for dinner, yeah?"
"Sure," Jonathan replied.
*
Several days passed and Martha and Jonathan barely saw her father. He was always gone before they rose in the morning and purposely stayed back at work until he knew they'd be in bed. Jonathan came to see Martha's father the morning he was due to leave.
"Jonathan, here to tell me you won't be back?"
"No, sir," Jonathan stated, uncomfortable.
"Well then you're wasting your time."
"Despite what you think of me, I love your daughter very much, and I'm here to ask for your permission to marry her-"
"No," he replied quickly.
"May I ask why?" Jonathan knew he had to keep his temper in check.
"Because I will not let my daughter throw her life away by marrying some hick farmer that couldn't possibly support her."
"I don't consider myself 'some hick farmer'-"
"Listen, Jonathan, frankly, Martha's only going out with you to piss me off. She's not serious about this."
"We've discussed this together several times, and she has a few loose ends to tie up here first-" Jonathan stopped as the man stood and walked around the other side of his desk.
"My daughter is not going to move out to the middle of nowhere, to some shack, where's she's exposed to all sorts of redneck hicks who are out to get her-"
"Smallville's not like that-"
"I don't care. She's not going."
"In all regard, you can't stop her."
"And you can't force her. So please, leave now. Never come back." Jonathan raised an eyebrow.
"I want you to know there's no force involved here, and I'm not some client you can just dismiss-" Jonathan held his ground as the man took another step forward, in his face.
"I'm serious. Never come back. Here, or to my house, and stay away from my daughter."
"You never said that before-"
"I thought she'd get over you. You don't deserve her, understood? And she sure as hell doesn't deserve you. You can't provide for her, all you'll do is lock her up in a house somewhere, she won't work, she won't be happy-"
"This is your daughter, not your wife!" Jonathan exclaimed. The man grabbed him and before Jonathan knew what he was doing he pushed him away. Martha's father stumbled back, hitting the back of his desk. "I'm not going to fight you for her. You have no idea about who your daughter is and what she wants. I promise you, I'll never come back, and neither will she."
*
Martha was leaning against the trunk of her car and she smiled as she saw Jonathan emerge from the large building. He walked towards her, looking sullen but managing a smile anyway. Her smile faded, however, as he got closer. She knew her father wasn't going to have liked the idea of her moving away to live with Jonathan, anyway. Gentleman as he was, though, he had insisted on asking him regardless. It wasn't even as though he was asking permission to marry her or anything.
"That well, huh?" she asked.
"I gotta be honest with you Martha, I hit him."
"What did he say?"
"That you weren't going anywhere, you weren't going to waste your life with some hick. He tried to shove me out and I hit back. Sorry." She shook her head, reaching up and resting a hand on his cheek.
"It's okay. He asked for it." Jonathan nodded, quietly. "What's the matter?" Jonathan sighed.
"You sure?"
"Of course I'm sure." She hugged him tightly. "And you're no hick, Jon," she whispered, kissing him softly. "Okay?" He smiled in the kiss, pulling her closer.
"Okay," he replied. "Take you to dinner tonight?" She pulled back, handing him the car keys.
"Sure."
*
"That was fantastic, Jonathan," Martha mentioned as they walked hand in hand from the restaurant. "How long have you had that booked? Must've taken ages to get a table!"
"I have a friend who got us in," Jonathan replied, slipping their hands apart and wrapping an arm around her waist. "So, where to now?"
"We could go and sit in the courtyard for a while," Martha stated casually. "I think I saw a sign up for a couple of bands playing around there tonight."
"Not sick of dancing yet hey?" She laughed.
"I said sit, Jonathan. Thinking, thinking..."
"Hey!" he laughed, joking with her. "Okay then." They walked over to the park and found an empty bench behind a hedge. On the other side was a jazz band, and in front of them, were several couples out for the night, dancing and partying. They were close enough to enjoy the music, but still had their privacy. Martha leaned into Jonathan and closed her eyes.
"Do you have to go tomorrow?" she asked. He nodded, running a hand up her arm and back down reassuringly.
"Yeah, but you won't be far behind, 'member?"
"Yeah, I remember." She smiled. "How could I forget." They fell into silence long enough for the song to change.
"Martha-" Jonathan began softly.
"Mm?"
"I have a confession." He nudged her and she sat up, turning to face him, her eyes wide.
"Okay."
"I didn't go up there today and ask for you to move in with me." Martha raised an eyebrow. "I asked for, and was declined, permission to do this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. "The reason I was several minutes later than planned for your graduation-" He opened it to reveal a thin, gold band with a small emerald centred, surrounded by several smaller diamonds. Martha's lower jaw had dropped and she looked up at him open-mouthed. Jonathan suddenly got very scared and hesitated, but saw a smile in her eyes and managed to get through it eventually. "I love you Martha, I've loved you since you first spoke to me. Please, will you marry me?" Martha nodded carefully, not in hesitation but in an effort not to cry. Jonathan took the ring out of its box and slid it part-ways onto her finger, before looking up into her eyes. "Say it," he whispered. A couple of tears rolled down her cheek and she laughed.
"Yes, yes I'll marry you." As she spoke he fit the ring on and she glanced at it momentarily, before leaning forward and kissing Jonathan deeply. He kissed her back, before hugging her tightly and feeling her start to cry a little. "I love you," she whispered, leaning into him. He kissed the top of her head, rocking her gently, his eyes closing.
"You've got no excuse not to be right behind me tomorrow-" She looked up at him, biting her bottom lip.
"I think I can tie up those loose ends from Smallville."
"Really?" She nodded.
"I better get packing but." Jonathan leant down and they kissed again.
"Can I help?" he asked. She grinned, standing and pulling him with her, as if that was any indication.
*