Abstinence

Touching down softly, she fought down a smile. With a bounce in her step, she smoothed out the fabric of her costume, running her fingers over the long sleeves of her blue and red costume. Tugging at the hem of her bouncy skirt with one hand, she tapped him gently on the right shoulder with the other.

"Shrimp?"

Looking up from his motorcycle, J.B. flashed a smile. Slowly, he stood up until he stood four inches taller than Marty. With a smirk, he bent his head down in order to meet her eye.

"Snob."

Unable to hold off a burst of laughter, Marty reached up and pulled him down into a sweet kiss. Stepping away, J.B. kept his arms spread. Backing away, he retreated to his motorcycle. Quickly, he snatched up a nearby cloth and wiped the engine grease from his hands. Turning back to her swiftly, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled Marty forward.

Sheltered within the safety of the bat-cave, they held each other tightly, kissing tenderly. Gently, he ran a hand down her face, brushing the back of his fingers across her cheek. Sighing into his caress, she kissed him again and again.

Together, they continued in this way until the bats above them interrupted. Breaking apart, they looked up just in time to see hundreds of bats take wing, flying in a black swatch out the top of the cave. Glancing back at each other, they leaned in for another kiss as the screeching lessened.

What they didn't know was this - They were no longer alone. The bats were unwitting cover. Their departure had coincided with the door to the bat-cave opening. The individual now staring at them entered as the bats fled, his stealthy arrival masked by their raucous exodus. This intruder watched them, anger building out of disbelief, as their lips lightly touched.

"What do you two think you're doing?"

Turning toward the anger-laced voice, Marty could only stare with wide open eyes at the sight of her Dad looming before her. As he stomped up to them, dread gripped at her heart as the man at her side tightened his hold on her.

For his part, J.B. stood in stunned silence. Sliding his right hand around Marty's waist, he pulled her in closer while his left hand glided up her back, wrapping around her shoulder in an effort to shield her from the rage flashing in the eyes before them.

Meeting icy-blue eyes, J.B. didn't flinch. Matching intense stare for intense stare, all he could think was that it was a miracle that they ever managed to keep this a secret this long.

It all started eight months before. The night of the 20th Annual Lois Lane Memorial Scholarship Fund Gala.

Ever since Superman used the third annual gala to mark his return to Earth, superheroes had quickly taken over the social event. The next year, all the founding members of the Justice League were in attendance though the event's hosts, Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne, were curiously absent.

After that, the floodgates opened. In the years that followed, a revolving door of heroes filled the guest list and it only served to make the evening more of a success. The tickets, being extremely limited, became the must have item for the ridiculously wealthy. The Gotham elite and the world's uber-rich paid five, sometimes ten, times more for them than the suggested donation.

Of course, who could blame them. Who wouldn't want to spend their evening in the company of heroes?

On the night of the 20th annual gala, Marty was escorted to the dance floor, for the first time, by a Kryptonian who was not her Father. His name was Van-Zee. He was her third cousin and the spitting image of her father. His presence did not cause a stir. These days, random Kryptonians emerged every so often. Unlike her father, Marty grew up knowing she was part of a small but ever-growing population. Kandorians. Stray wanderers. Cousins. They seemed to come and go, few staying for long.

Like so many Kryptonians upon reaching earth, Van-Zee had a certain arrogance to him. Strengthened by the Earth's yellow sun, he strutted like a peacock. He rarely acknowledged Humans and mostly regarded them with a distant tolerance. Upon reaching the center of the dance floor, he wrapped an arm around Marty's waist and squeezed too tightly. He pulled her up against him although the hands she placed on his chest tried to push him away.

Across the room, Bruce Wayne watched the unimpressive young buck manhandle his daughter. His eyes narrowed dangerously just as his grandson came into view. From the edge of the huddled, swaying mass, J.B. swiftly made his way to Marty's side. As Bruce watched him stand up to the large Kryptonian without a hint of fear, he couldn't stop the shiver of pride that ran through him.

"That boy is going to make an excellent Batman, someday."

Walking up behind Van-Zee, J.B. caught Marty's eye before he tapped twice on Van-Zee's shoulder.

Nothing.

Again he tapped, harder this time.

"Excuse me, I'd like to cut in."

Again, nothing. Van-Zee just kept on shuffling, dragging Marty along for the ride. He didn't notice the look she exchanged with J.B. He didn't register the slight nod they gave each other. All he knew was that one minute he was enjoying this odd Human custom and the next his dance partner was pushing him away. As he attempted to thwart her escape, a hand landed on his shoulder. By slow measure, he followed the hand back to its owner.

"Mister, I don't think the lady is interested."

"Be gone," replied Van-Zee, as he looked back at Marty. "This is a Kryptonian matter."

"No," argued J.B. as his grip tightened. "This is a family matter of which you are not a part. Now, I would let go of her and back away before this has to get ugly."

"Are you threatening me, Human?"

"Absolutely. But, I'll do better than that if you don't take your hands off her right now."

"Laughable. There is nothing you can do to me."

"That's where you're wrong. You see, I know where my Grandfather hides all the Kryptonite," countered J.B. Upon seeing Van-Zee's shocked expression, he continued, "You know what Kryptonite is. That's good. Know this. My family has several chunks of it, but I'll only need one small piece to take you out. Now, back off."

Taking a step back, Van-Zee lifted his hands in surrender.

Meeting his eyes with a warning and a stern expression, J.B. placed a hand flat against Marty's lower back. Quickly, he took a step back, letting go of Van-Zee at the same time. Without looking back, they made a hasty retreat to a nearby balcony.

Luckily, J.B. managed to close the balcony doors before Marty burst out laughing.

"Oh my God! That is the last time that I let one of my Dads set me up on a date. Did you see what he did? He's my cousin. That's just creepy."

Quiet, he followed behind her.

"He was hideous!" she shouted out to the night. Turning her back to the wall, she propped her elbows on the stone. As she flipped her hair over her shoulder, she looked at J.B. curiously. "J.B.? Is something wrong?"

At first, he shook his head. Then, he grew very still as he met her questioning gaze. After taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and asked, "Do you like wasting your time?"

"What's your problem? It's called dating. At best, it's a theoretical science."

"Is it all just a joke to you?"

"Look," she said as she crossed her arms. "I don't know what your problem is, but I didn't just leave one jerk to be saddled with another."

"Okay. That's fair. I'll back off once you answer one question."

"Whatever. What is it?"

"Why do you give so much of your time to men who don't deserve you?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Warren. Ted. Tony. Harry. Now, this Van-Zee guy. Do you ever get tired of all these men who aren't worthy of you?" He didn't wait for an answer. Now, that he started, he couldn't stop. "Not worthy of you. Not one of them. And you want to know why? Because not one of them really knew you."

"Sure, some of them knew you as Marty, the pretty daughter of a wealthy, socially connected gay couple. Ted knew you as Supergirl, Superman's exotic, alien daughter. Van-Zee was attracted to your Kryptonian half. All of them held a fragment, a piece of the puzzle, but not one of them really knew you."

"Not like I do."

"I know that the Human girl and the Kryptonian are not separate people. I've watched you burst through walls and tear apart steel girders just so you can get to a family trapped behind them. I've watched you cradle a baby against your chest, soothing it with a song, as you saved it from a collapsing bridge. I held your hand while you cried when Alfred died. I understand he was so much more than a butler. I know Filmed in Technicolor is your favorite band, but that The Girl from Ipanema will always be your favorite song even if it is a tune fit for an old lady. I know all of you, Marty. That's why I'm the only one worthy of you."

Stunned speechless, she gaped at him. Slowly, her arms uncrossed, hanging limply. She watched him with wide eyes as he drew closer. As he gripped her hands, her mouth snapped shut with a click. Closing in, he brought her hands up to his lips and placed a single chaste kiss on her knuckles.

"Marty, I love you. I have for a while."

As if on cue, the balcony doors opened.

"There you two are. Marty, your Dad is looking for you," said Barbara as she walked in. She noticed how Marty sprang away from J.B.. Her eyes went back and forth between them as J.B. took a step forward, bracing himself against the balcony wall. As Marty rushed past her, she asked, "J.B., is everything alright?"

In response, he shook his head once.

Concerned, she placed a hand on his shoulder. He jerked away as if he was burned. Pulling her hand back, she asked again if he was alright.

"I'm fine, Mom. Really. Everything's okay."

Weakly, he waved his hands once. With a single forceful nod, he returned to the party without saying another word.

Now, standing here in front of his Grandfather, J.B. realized that experience should have hammered home the necessity for a secure perimeter.

"How long has this been going on?"

Distantly, he heard Marty beg to explain. His attention remained on the man standing before him. The silver in his hair did nothing to hide the threat he still represented. He noticed the twitch in his eye and the throbbing blood vessel at his temple. Focusing on the rage-filled way Grandpa Bruce was chewing at his own bottom lip, J.B. shushed at the woman in his arms.

"Marty, I've got this," insisted J.B. as he met his Grandfather's eyes. Taking a deep breath, he made sure his voice wouldn't crack before he answered, "We started going out five months ago."

Silently, Marty stood beside J.B. and listened as he answered her Dad's questions. Thinking back, she remembered all the stutters and stops. The night in his bedroom when he held her after she learned about bondmates. The night of the gala where he bravely confessed his love. The months they spent tiptoeing around each other, afraid to look each other in the eyes.

Then, within days of each other, two things happened. First, Rex Stewart in his full Warhawk armor stopped her after a Young Justice mission and inquired as to why she had rebuffed his best friend. She pled her case of family and desire for normalcy. Her excuses sounded empty and shallow to her own ears and, by the look on his face, to Rex's, as well. Looking her straight in the eye, he said, "I get wanting to be normal, wanting to be like everyone else. I do but, I'm only half Human. Just like you. We don't get normal handed to us like other people do. We have to make our own sort of normal. More than that, we have to be willing to fight for it."

Then, a couple days later came the awful news - Jonathan Kent was dead. He lived to be eighty-two years old and died quietly in his sleep. Martha woke up that morning to an empty bed and her son sitting in a chair by her side. He calmly informed her that he had dressed and moved the body to the sofa downstairs before calling the Coroner's Office.

Two days later, the Kent patriarch was buried. Afterwards, family and friends retreated to the Kent farm. Shortly after returning to the house, Martha disappeared. Concerned, Marty went looking for her. Upstairs, she found her sitting on her bed. Silent tears ran down her face as she ran her fingertips over pictures from a long ago wedding.

Sitting down beside her grandmother, Marty looked at the photographs. She laughed airily at the outdated outfits and hairstyles, but she couldn't mistake the love in their eyes or the joy on their faces. Every guest sported big smiles - A sea of happiness filling in the empty spaces of a perfect day.

"Everyone looks so happy," observed Marty.

"Oh yes," sighed Martha as she turned the page. Placing her hand on an eight by ten of her and Jonathan posing under the wedding arbor, she let out a shaky breath before she continued, "Nothing makes people smile like a new baby or a new bride."

Bringing her fingers to her lips, she softly kissed them before pressing those same fingers to Jonathan's face. Another tear fell as Marty wrapped an arm around her back. As her shoulders shook, she whispered, "We had sixty-one years of marriage, but that wasn't all. He was always the boy down the road. We played as children and held hands on the way to school as teenagers. We slid into love so effortlessly. It seemed so meant to be."

"On the day of the wedding, the future looked so bright. We couldn't have foreseen so many hard times awaited us. We almost lost the farm to foreclosure after a couple years of bad crops. The whole place flooded more than once. Then, we suffered through two miscarriages. It seemed like our fairytale was shattered, but still we clung to each other. In the end, that's what I'm proudest of. We loved each other with everything we had. We never gave up and never wasted any time. Looking back now, I can honestly say I never wasted one minute that I had with him. Yes, at least, I have that to hold onto."

Blinking back tears, Marty nodded. Held silent by trembling lips, her thoughts drifted to J.B. and she let out a shuddering breath. Glancing at her Grandma's sad eyes, she asked, "Do you need anything, Grandma?"

"No, dear," she replied, softly. "But, I would like to be left alone. Could you tell all those people downstairs?"

"Sure, Grandma."

With one last hug, she stood up and left the room. One hand pressed flat against the wall, she descended the stairs on shaky legs. Reaching the landing, she scanned the living room and found her Dad. Walking over to where he held court with several of Smallville's residents, she whispered her Grandma's request in his ear. He met her eye and answered with a curt nod of his head.

Stepping away, she walked outside. There, she found her Pa talking to some elderly men who owned neighboring farms. Again, she whispered her message in his ear and received a nod in return. Then, she looked over at the barn. There stood J.B. Leaning against the long side, he kicked repeatedly at the dirt. Approaching him, she watched as his eyes followed her feet up to her legs and upward until they met her eyes.

"Can we go somewhere?" she asked.

"Sure."

Together, they headed to the back forty just as they had during every visit to the farm since they were seven years old. They walked quietly, but with an easy silence. They reached the farthest fence and stopped. Looking at the building clouds, J.B. placed his hand on a fence post and turned to Marty. The first thing he noticed were the tears threatening to fall. Quickly, he moved to reach her, but she beat him to the punch.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him close. Shaking her head, she kept whispering against his shoulder, "Forgive me. Please forgive me."

Pulling far enough away to look into his eyes, she said, "I've wasted so much time. So much time when I could have just been loving you."

Suddenly, movement to her left shook her free of her reverie. Disbelieving, she watched her Dad grab J.B. by the shirt and push him up against the nearest wall.

"How far has this gone?"

She watched as J.B. flashed a defiant face, but didn't make a move against the man in front of him. The only answer he offered was a request for clarification. In response, her Dad slammed his fists harder and growled, "Don't act naive with me, boy."

"Dad, stop this!" she yelled. As she reached for him, her Dad flashed a warning at her and she paused. After all, this was her Father - The awesome Bruce Wayne. The original Batman. The man knew how to instill fear with a look, but he didn't account for one thing - She'd seen it all before. Reaching for his shoulder, she physically separated them. "Dad! I don't have a bondmate, yet. Okay?"

"Good. This can end now."

"Grandpa Bruce..."

"No!," shouted Bruce as he glared at J.B. and shook his fist at him. "Don't you dare call me that. Not after what you've been doing with my own daughter."

"Dad, please. Listen to me. Let me explain."

"I can't, Marty. I can't be here. I can't look at you two, right now."

With that, he wrestled free of her grip and marched back inside the Manor. Quickly, Bruce wound through the halls until he reached the library. He glanced at Clark as he picked up the house phone and called Dick and Barbara and asked them to join them in the library. Hanging up the phone, he met curious eyes. Crossing the room, he sat in his favorite chair across from Clark, but remained silent.

Several minutes later, Dick arrived.

"So, Bruce? Where's the fire?"

"Where's your wife?"

"Did you call her?"

"Yes."

"Then I guess she's on her way," answered Dick as he walked over to a nearby chair . Sitting down, he looked at Clark for a clue, but all he received was a slow wave of a hand. "Bruce, what is this all about?"

"I'll wait until Barbara gets here."

A couple minutes later, Barbara walked in holding her smart tablet. Punching at the screen, she cursed quietly as she quietly took her usual seat across from her husband. Sitting down, she continued to type furiously until she realized that everyone was staring at her. Glancing up, she realized she was being watched. With a mumbled apology, she tucked the tablet between her thigh and the seat cushion. Folding her hands on her lap, she followed her husband's lead and turned her attention to Bruce.

"It has come to my attention that we have a severe problem here at the manor."

"Severe problem?" asked Clark.

"Is it a problem concerning the structure itself?" asked Dick.

Quietly, Barbara held her questions.

"No, the problem is closer to home."

"Did you catch another maid stealing from the storage closet again?" asked Dick

"Are you having trouble filling the vacant gardener position?"

Again, Barbara held her tongue.

"No. Now, stop interrupting me." growled Bruce as he sat forward, digging his fingers into the arms of his chair. "Just now, I walked in on J.B. and Marty. They were in an embrace and admitted to me that they have been in a relationship for the past five months."

"What?" shouted Clark.

"J.B. and Marty? Really, Bruce?"

Curling her right hand into a fist, Barbara punched at her chair arm as Bruce answered.

"Yes, really. I saw it with my own eyes and they didn't deny it. Now, we need to decide what we will do about this?"

"They need to be separated immediately. Yes, as soon as possible. He's set to start at Gotham University in the fall, but now, perhaps we need to send him somewhere else. It would be bad for them to see each other on campus."

"That's a good idea, Dick," said Clark. "Also, let's change their superhero affiliations. Neither one of them is ready for membership in the Justice League, but they don't have to both be in Young Justice as they are now. Perhaps one of them could join Teen Titans."

Nodding, Dick agreed, "Yes. Yes, that could work. We could see about enrolling J.B. in Stanford or Cal Berkeley."

"These are all good steps," said Bruce as he rested his chin on his fist. Taking a deep breath, he added, "We'll need to keep them under constant surveillance from now until September. It's too late to get Marty into the dorms, but we could rent her an apartment near campus."

"My God, how did it come to this?" sighed Clark.

"Are we to blame?" asked Dick.

"Where did we go wrong?" echoed Bruce.

"Bruce, we raised our daughter in such an unconventional way. She grew up in this hero business of ours. She was fighting supervillians when she was thirteen. We never gave her anything that resembled a normal life."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Clark. It's not the life that did this. I was born in a circus. Never in one place for more than a few weeks. After Bruce adopted me, I was on the streets fighting crime six months later. I wasn't even thirteen yet. No, I think maybe it was us. We pushed them together so much when they were children. Maybe we were wrong to do that."

"He called me Grandpa Bruce just now. For the first time, I looked at him and felt something other than pride."

"I know what you mean. My son and my sister. There's something just so wrong about all that."

Resting his elbows on his knees, Clark leaned forward and let his hands dangle down. Looking to his right, he saw Barbara sitting quietly in her chair. Her feet tucked under her, she leaned to the right against the chair cushions. He followed her line of vision out the door before returning to meet her gaze.

"Barbara, do you have anything to say?"

"Yes, Clark. I do," she answered. Nodding in the direction of the door, she noted, "They've been standing just outside the doors for the past five minutes."

"What?" shouted Bruce as he jumped to his feet.

Hand in hand, Marty and J.B. opened the door and walked into the room.

"Bruce, sit down," she insisted. "What are you going to do, Bruce? Hit him? Hit her? Whip out some Kryptonite? Well, you might as well. I don't think such actions could hurt them more than your words. That goes for all of you."

"Yes, all of you," she repeated, coolly as she watched them move to contradict her. "Is it a shock? Yes. Is it a surprise? A little, I guess. I've noticed what apparently no one else has for the past several months. Now, is it unwelcome? Not really. Not for me, anyway."

"All these years, our two families have grown and been bound by so many things - Tragedy, Adoption, Struggle, Marriage, Camaraderie and Love. The only link not found in the chain is blood. Perhaps, through them, that last link can finally be added."

"Let me remind you that for all your talk of daughters and grandsons, they are not blood related. J.B. is not your biological grandson, Bruce. Marty may legally be your sister, Dick, but the two of you do not share a biological parent."

"I know family is so much more than just blood. That's why this is so hard to bear, but what choice do we have. They are not children. They are adults. Just look at them. They're not pitching a fit. They're not screaming at the walls. They're not rampaging through Gotham City. They're just standing here, hoping we'll accept them."

"Undoubtedly, some things have to change. How we relate to each other will need to change so that we can all be comfortable with this arrangement. That will take time, but it will be time well spent."

"Marty. J.B., come here."

"Mom?"

"Aunt Barbara?"

"See, that's one of those things that need to change. Marty, my dear, I love you like a daughter, but I can't hand my only child over to someone who calls me Aunt Barbara. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Au- I mean... Yes, Barbara. I mean... Yes, Mrs. Grayson."

"Barbara will be fine, dear."

"J.B.?" Reaching out a hand, she beckoned her son to come closer. Letting go of Marty, he walked over to his mother and tightly held her hand. "I know you've heard this many times before, but bear with me. The day you were born, I fell into a coma. I stayed in that coma for three days. I woke up in the hospital to find out you were born two months early and that you would be my only one. Joker's bullet did its job. The nurses brought you to me and you wouldn't stop crying. I felt so helpless and then Bruce and Clark arrived with a six month old Marty in tow. Bruce took you out of my arms and brought you over to Marty. She reached out and patted your head. Just like that. You stopped crying. Seeing you two together made me smile for the first time since I woke up. Right then, I started hoping that the two of you would be together one day. I, for one, am glad that day is finally here."

Leaning down, J.B. grabbed his mother into a hug. Standing up, she wrapped her arms around her son. After several seconds, she pulled away. Looking about the room, she spurred them into action with insistent glances.

First, Clark stood up. Crossing over to Marty, he met her hope-filled gaze. They faced each other without words for a good minute before he opened his arms. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight manner that only he could bear. Burying her face in his chest, she whispered so only he could hear, "Papa, I think he might be the one."

In response, he held her even tighter.

Still seated in their chairs, Bruce and Dick looked at each other. Glancing at their respective spouses, they came to the same conclusion. Standing up, Bruce walked over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out six tumblers. He filled four with scotch and two of them with ginger ale. Turning to his left, he handed the three of the scotches to Dick. With a nod, Dick served the drinks to Clark and Barbara.

Picking up the three remaining drinks, Bruce handed the ginger ales to J.B. and Marty. Taking a moment to compose himself, Bruce raised his glass and said, "To family."

"To family."