A Trio of Virtues

Part III

Contrary Virtues

All the virtues and he in whom they dwell are safe.

- Psychomachia (Battle for Man's soul) by Prudentius

-{()}-

Humility

Carefully, Clark made his way down the main staircase. From his vantage point mid way down, he could clearly see the main foyer and the trail of pink rose petals leading into the library. Pink roses in white marble vases. Pink satin bows tickling at his fingers as his hand landed the on the polished turnout. Stopping at the base of the stairs, he leaned against the bottom newel as Dick passed by, narrowly avoiding the large sheet cake he was carrying.

Pink. A girl's color. He remembered how it was during their wedding reception that he and Bruce announced that they were expecting. After the initial shock and silence, a pair of screams filled the space completely. His mother jumped out of her seat and yelled, "Lacy dresses. I finally get to buy frilly, lacy dresses."

Across the table from her, Barbara stood up and chimed in, "Don't forget sparkling hair bows and satin ribbons."

"Oh Barbara, I've waited nearly forty years to dress a little girl."

"We mustn't wait another minute."

"You're quite right, my dear. Jonathan, I'll be back later. Don't wait up."

"Martha, I know this absolutely adorable store where they have the most precious outfits. You'll just love it. Oh Dick, you don't mind if I take Martha to Bambino's, do you? Of course not. I'll see you later."

"Delicate, cotton baby bonnets."

"Lace-lined socks."

"Teeny-tiny Mary Janes."

Little by little, their voices faded as they ventured down the hallway until a loud shriek erupted, "Pink! Lots and lots of pink!"

Stepping into the library, he saw that the sofa he had insisted on had been placed against the far wall, made the focal point of the room with chairs surrounding it in a loose circle. A small table near the sofa was already heavily laden with pastel colored presents. A much longer table near the library doors was covered in silver serving platters. As he inched further into the room, he watched Dick place the cake at the center of the table. Walking up to the table, he read the message on the cake:

"Welcome Martha Elle Wayne-Kent."

A slow smile spread over his face as he recalled how she got her name.

Shortly after their announcement, he had taken to calling the baby peanut and his Mother was partial to girlie-girl. Barbara would coo princess at his belly every time she saw him. Alfred frequently referred to the baby as the young miss. By the time they reached thirty weeks, the baby had been called just about everything, everything except a proper name.

Crazily enough, it was Kelex who brought up the subject by asking them one day, "Kal-El cheh? Ta pahnim threvzeht?"

Frowning, Bruce observed, "That's a new one. Threv means name. Zeht means daytime. What does threvzeht mean?"

"Threvzeht? Oh nothing important, really." Glaring down at the small robot, Clark reached for his clothes as he stepped from the bio-pod. Pulling on his shirt, he waved his hand and sighed, "Ewuhsh."

A glance to his left told Clark that Bruce was not so easily dismissed as the little machine. Pulling up his sweatpants, he explained. "It means naming day. It's the Kryptonian equivalent of a christening. The day a new child is formally named and made a member of their noble house."

"Interesting. What does it entail?"

"Well, on Krypton, the heart of Kryptonian society was the Sun Temple. The whole community would have attended a ceremony at the temple where a respected elder would name the child. The name would then be added to the book of the noble house."

"The baby isn't due for another 3 weeks. Why is Kelex asking about this now?"

"That's usually when it happens. Kryptonians officially named their children before they were born."

"Do you want to do it?"

"It's not really possible to do the threvzeht now. The Sun Temple was obliterated along with everything else on my planet. Also, the parents aren't supposed to perform the naming and as far as I know I'm the only Kryptonian around."

"Still, the child could be named and that name added to the House of El," mused Bruce as he rubbed his chin. Turning his back to Clark, he called out, "Kelex, Zhgam."

The small machine came forward and replied, "Zhi, Bruz-Wehn cheh."

"Ta nahn tiv i fardhogh w zrhythrev El?"

"Nahn tiv zhgam khahp fis."

"Well, that is interesting. The Book of the House of El is stored in Kelex's hard drive. We could tell him the name and he could enter it in the book. It's not strictly keeping to tradition but it's the best we could do under the circumstances."

Slowly, Clark arched one brow and tried his best to imitate Bruce's most intimidating glare. As a response, Bruce shrugged his shoulders and performed a rolling stretch of his neck while never breaking eye contact.

"Okay, let's start with the first name," sighed Clark with a roll of his eyes. Stalling, he marveled at how easily Bruce dismissed Kelex. Sighing loudly, he mused, 'Leave it to Bruce to learn the Kryptonian language so quickly.' Slipping on his loafers, he walked over to Bruce and asked, "Have any ideas?

"In my mind, there is only one choice for the first name," answered Bruce as he reached out and rubbed the ever-expanding belly jutting out at him. At Clark's questioning gaze, he continued, "The name we share - Martha."

"Agreed." Placing his hand over Bruce's, he waited until Bruce looked him in the eye. "So, what about the last name. How does Kent-Wayne sound?"

"I think Wayne-Kent sounds better."

"Come on 'Kent-Wayne' has a nice ring to it."

"Just listen to it - Wayne-Kent."

"Kent-Wayne."

"Wayne-Kent.

"Kent-Wayne."

"Okay, look. Let's move on for now because clearly we've hit a stalemate where last names are concerned."

Quickly, Bruce noticed how disappointed Clark looked and asked, "What's wrong, Clark?"

"I don't know. It's just... No... It's nothing."

"Spit it out, Clark."

"This child is half Human. She will grow up on Earth, attend American schools, but she is Kryptonian, too. It would be nice if her name could reflect some of that heritage. Her Kryptonian name would be Martha Kal-El. Having both a Kryptonian name and an Earth name has always left me feeling like I have a split personality. Almost like there are two of me. I guess, on some level, that's true, but I want things to be easier for her. I don't want her to feel so torn over who she is."

"How about Martha Elle? Elle is a common girl's name. No one else needs to know what it really means but us."

"You'd be okay with that?"

"Of course."

"Well, if you'll put my house name first then I guess that I can do Wayne-Kent."

A pat on his shoulder brought him back to the present. Looking to his left, he found his husband. It was a wondrous thing to ever see Bruce Wayne smile out in the open, but this particular smile was inspired. There wasn't a trace of anything but happiness in it, trailing from his stretched lips to the icy blue depths of his eyes. Beguiled, he let Bruce take him by the hand and direct him away from the table. Soon thereafter, they arrived at the sofa.

Suddenly, Bruce became quite insistent. He wanted Clark to sit down. Now. As Clark tried to dodge confinement, Bruce squared his shoulders and pulled the one card he knew would always work in a pinch. "Clark, think of the baby. You have to sit. The strain is too much for you. After all, you're set to pop any day now."

"Set to pop? Really? You've got an I.Q. of 192 and that was the best you could come up with?"

"Help me out here. I've barely slept with all the trouble Poison Ivy and Harley have been giving me lately. Not to mention all the background checks I had to do on the new JL recruits."

"But..."

"Seriously, Clark. I'd sit down right now or you're going to be sorry."

"Is that a threat?"

At the shoulder shrug, Clark's eyes opened wide. Filled with wounded pride, his mouth fell open and he prepared to release a full verbal assault just as an annoyed voice rang out.

"Clark Joseph Kent. What are you doing up? You're supposed to be reclining at all times."

Hands on her hips, the owner of the voice made her way across the room. Coming to stand next to her son, she bent down and fluffed a pillow as she continued, "Glory all, son. Use the good sense I spent so many hours instilling in you. You don't want to do anything to that darling grandbaby of mine, do you?"

Quickly, he shook his head.

"Well, of course not. Now, sit," commanded Martha as she placed the pillow on the sofa. His shoulders slumped. His will completely bent, Clark glanced at that damned cocky smile on Bruce's face as he carefully sat down onto the couch. Martha adjusted the pillow and looked around the room. Finding what she was looking for, she slapped Bruce on the arm, making him jump at the contact, "Don't just stand there. Bring that footstool over here so he can put his feet up."

Nodding quickly, Bruce retrieved the item and placed it at Clark's feet. Bruce watched in wide wonder as Martha lifted Clark's legs and placed them, one at a time, on the ottoman. Smoothing out his pants, Martha barked again, "He needs a blanket."

"Here you are, Madam," said Alfred, appearing out of nowhere, carrying a blue plaid throw blanket.

"Thank you, Alfred. I swear. Sometimes, I think you're psychic."

"I get that reaction a lot, Madam. Is there anything else you might need?"

Turning to Clark, she unfolded the blanket. As she spread it over her son's legs, she asked, "Are you hungry, dear?"

"No, ma'am."

"You sure?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"We're fine here, Alfred. Thank you."

"No thanks required, Madam. It was my pleasure."

With a small bow and a flash of sympathetic eyes at Clark, Alfred slipped away into the background. He was quickly replaced by Bruce who stood there with hunched shoulders and a sour expression that screamed his pity for Clark but at the same time admitted it was better him than me.

"Well, I'll just see to the final arrangements. If you need anything, just let Bruce know. That's what he's here for." Turning on her heel, she met Bruce's eyes. Standing on her tip-toes, she wagged her index finger under his nose and ordered, "You don't let him up from that spot, you hear me? He's not to lift a single finger."

With a mock salute, Bruce nodded in assent. Waiting until she crossed the room, he finally let out the breath he was holding and sat down next to Clark. Gently, he slid his fingers across the blanket until they found and wrapped around a warm hand. With a squeeze, he drew bright blue eyes his way as he sighed, "With this baby, I think we've created a monster."

"Oh come on. She's not that bad."

"Actually, I think she really is."

"Okay. Maybe, she is going a little overboard."

Returning Clark's smile, Bruce leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on soft lips. Pulling away, he squeezed that warm hand tighter as he heard, "This is really happening, isn't it?"

"You're scheduled to give birth in two days. So, yeah, I'd say it is."

"It's unreal."

"You can say that again."

Together, they calmly sat in silence. Content in each other's company, they watched Alfred, Martha, Dick, Jonathan and Barbara rush about the room. At the sound of the door chimes, Alfred made a quick exit. Palming her cheek, Barbara sat down on the nearest chair while Martha, Dick and Jonathan continued to place the final touches.

The first guests to arrive, John and Shayera walked into the room. Bruce was up and across the room in an instant. Shayera let John make a production of the small baby bump she sported. In between words of felicitation, they exchanged hugs and slaps on the back. Martha and Jonathan approached and reintroduced themselves. Just as Dick ushered them to their seats, the chimes rang again.

For the next thirty minutes, guests arrived at a steady click. In the end, all the chairs were filled by Diana and Wally who arrived together, holding hands and raising more than one eyebrow. John Jones arrived at the same time as Lucius Fox and the two struck up a casual conversation as they took their seats.

Two hours later, the room filled with laughter. As pink outfit after pink outfit were lifted up for all to see, the group oohed and ahhed. Martha blushed when Diana asked if any baby girl clothes were left in the city of Gotham. Laughter roared through the room after Barbara answered that she was pretty sure she and Martha left a few pairs of socks behind. Maybe.

There was cake and hors d'oeuvres. There was conversation and well-wishing. At one point, Alfred took everyone on a tour of the baby's room. A moment of awe passed as everyone took in the antique furniture. The crib was hand-carved mahogany with a matching dresser and rocking chair. While running his hand over the delicate scrollwork on the back of the crib, Jonathan recounted a story of how one night shortly after they found Clark, they were awakened by the baby crying and the sound of wood breaking. He held his hands up, forming a circle with about a six inch diameter, as he described the hole Clark kicked through the back of the crib.

Quickly, Alfred and Bruce exchanged concerned looks. As everyone left the room, Alfred approached Bruce and assured, "I'll have the Wayne family crib reinforced first thing tomorrow morning."

The night ended with a toast. Everyone but Clark and Shayera received a full champagne flute filled with some of the best bubbly the Wayne wine cellar had to offer. After a round of "To Martha," they tipped back their glasses.

After that, people started to leave. Flutes were left on the buffet table, on the coffee table and one was even left on the mantle. With a frown, Alfred picked up one glass off the floor, beside the end table. It was full, not a single drop missing. With a shake of his head, he lifted the glass and sipped it slowly. He wasn't letting champagne this good go to waste.

As predicted by Kryptonian technology, Martha Elle Wayne-Kent entered the world on June 11th, one year and four days after her parents became bondmates. That morning, Bruce flew them to the Fortress in the Batwing. Once they arrived, the service robots did what they do. They shuffled Clark off to the bio-pod, sealing him inside before they went to their respective computer stations and started pushing buttons.

Like usual, Bruce was mostly ignored. Except for the occasional "Zhi, Bruz Wehn cheh" and "Zha, Bruz Wehn cheh," the robots acted as if he didn't even exist. Finding a place to sit, Bruce waited industriously by working on WayneTech operating systems, performing background checks on new JL recruits and running an off-site check of the bat-cave security systems. Just as Bruce was running out of busy work, the bio-pod opened.

Placing his pad down, Bruce watched spellbound as a writhing, screaming child was pulled from the pod. Efficiently, the service robots wrapped the infant in a swath of blue Kryptonian cloth bearing the seal of the House of El. Carefully, the precious bundle was passed from one service robot to another until it arrived at a small containment pod. The child was placed in the pod and then the round, silver sphere closed seamlessly.

At the moment his child was locked away, a large slab rose from the floor as Clark was lifted from the bio-pod. Unconscious, he was placed on the slab and left alone. Upon completing this final act, the service robots started to leave the room one by one.

Instantly, Bruce felt torn.

Snapping out of his reverie, Bruce jumped up and called out, "Kelex, Zgham!"

Floating over to him, the small robot bent its head and replied, "Zhi, Bruz Wehn cheh."

"Kaochadodh inah kah kir," ordered Bruce.

The service robot did not move. It merely responded to Bruce's request for his child with a cold, "Nahn Zhehiodia zhed."

Sucking in a deep breath, Bruce repeated his command with urgency, "Kaochadodh w inah kah khaph ven."

"Ta-Gulogh?"

At the simply asked "why", he finally lost all patience with this ridiculous, bobble-headed, tin can. Leaning down, he glared menacingly into the round crystal face and growled, "Open this thing up now so I can get to my daughter or I'll reengineer you into a toaster."

Normally, Kelex did not respond to any language other than Kryptonian. However, this time, something in the Human's voice must have activated its self-preservation programming because it paused only for a second before tapping out a sequence on the side of the sphere. As the sphere opened, a red light blinked from Kelex's crystal face. Suddenly, the light ceased and Kelex bowed his head severely, making a quick exit.

Which was fine.

By this point, Bruce didn't notice the little robot anymore, anyway. No, he had eyes for only one thing - The squirming bundle laid out before him. Dipping his hands into the sphere, he carefully brought the child out. Slowly, he retreated, gazing down upon his child the entire way back to his seat. Sitting stiffly, he reached up and pushed the cloth away from the top of her head.

Immediately, he smiled at the sight of Clark's blue-black curls framing the cherubic face. She possessed a small heart-shaped mouth that he didn't recognize, but she also sported long eyelashes that rested on her cheeks and reminded him of his mother. Looking down at her, he marveled at how much she looked like Clark until she opened sleepy eyes. Stunned, he stared back into twin pools of icy-blue so like his own.

Pulling her up so that he cradled her against his chest, he shook his head. Slowly, the shaking subsided as he lowered the child again. Overcome, he sighed, "He was right. He was right. I would do it. I would take a thousand bullets for you."

At that moment, a moan sounded from the slab to his right. Standing up, he crossed over to the man who was quickly regaining consciousness. Sitting beside him on the cold metal surface, Bruce balanced their daughter in one arm while he combed his fingers through his husband's hair.

Once Clark opened his eyes, all he could see was the bundle in Bruce's arms. Gently, Bruce placed the small treasure into her other Father's arms. Pulling out his phone, Bruce positioned it just so and took their first picture as a family. After that, he snapped a couple close-ups of his princess' beautiful face. With a few flicks of his thumb, he sent them to the anxious grandparents waiting in Gotham.

Putting his phone away, he returned to stroking Clark's hair as he whispered, "That should appease your mother for a little while anyway."

"I guess we should head back."

"There's no rush. I want to hold onto this moment a little longer. Once we get back home, we'll probably barely see her between your mother, Barbara, Alfred and various members of the League."

Chuckling lightly, Clark agreed. Shifting onto his side, he opened up the blanket and started counting fingers and toes.

Of course, it couldn't last. They needed to go home eventually and home they went two hours later. As predicted, the baby was taken out of their arms the moment they arrived. Clark was shocked that his usually doting mother only patted his arm and barely gave him a once over before turning her full attention on her grandbaby. She could be heard singing a lullaby as she walked away, eager to show her off.

It would be another three hours before they got her back. Exhausted, Clark crawled into bed and watched as Bruce placed the baby into the reinforced bassinet at the foot of their bed. Yawning, he stretched as he felt the bed dip beside him. Smiling sleepily, he accepted his husband's kiss and sighed deeply before succumbing to sleep.

After Bruce was certain his husband was asleep, he slipped out of bed. Walking over to the bassinet, he carefully lifted the baby into his arms, shushing her as she started to fuss. With well-practiced stealth, Bruce made his way out of the bedroom, through the halls and down the stairs. Arriving at the library, he walked over to the wall-length portrait of his parents. Shifting the baby in his arms so that she could see the carefully posed people in front of her, Bruce said, "Mom, Dad, this is your granddaughter, Martha. Martha, these are your grandparents."

"I thought it was time you all met."