By Darklady and Chicago
Disclaimers: Characters and settings owned by DC Comics. They've been borrowed for fun, not for profit. The situation and plot belong to us. The plelloch belongs to Chicago.
Continuity note: A J'onnverse story - the entire 'verse takes JLA #58 as it's leaping off point and incorporates subsequent canon developments if we like them. Aquaman is here because we brought him back during All's Fair. We are at present ignoring both the Bruce Wayne: Murder, etc arc and the Obsidian Age. This story is around month 5 of the Bruce/J'onn relationship.
Canon notes:
Part 1 - J'onn's sleeping habits are illustrated in JLA #61.
Part 4 - J'onn's "Martian name" was described in a recent Secret Files as unpronouncible, but that detail quickly slipped out of canon. We decided to keep it.
Part 5 - references Midsummer's Nightmare JLA mini. The current Watchtower was actually appropriated from the White Martians in JLA #1-
4. Additional White Martian history appears in JLA #33, JLA #55-58, and MM #13-16.
Part 8 - references MM #33-36.
Rating: R for adult situations/sexual content
Play
By Darklady and Chicago
Hands were cradling him.
At another time, the sensation would have him lashing out in alarm.
At another time, though, it would never happen. Humans were noisy, and only one had thought patterns so in tune with his own that he could ever come so close without disturbing a rare moment of true slumber.
So he stayed curled in a little ball, taking a moment to enjoy Bruce's delight and amusement at successfully catching him sound asleep. Then, taken with a hint of mischief, he expanded his diameter a little.
Bruce's hands gave a little, but not so much that J'onn could not slip a bit beneath their surface, penetrate familiar calluses and dance among the whorls of fingerprints. He took his own moment of delight in the fact that Bruce's hands were bare - a rare occurrence here in the Watchtower - and in the change in the swirl of Bruce's emotions from amusement to something a little more - pressing.
He stretched his mind a little, opening the lines of conscious thought between them.
"Good morning," Bruce greeted softly, foregoing for the moment the telepathic projection of his greeting in favor of more - suggestive - thoughts.
*Mmm,* J'onn replied drowsily, increasing his mass slightly so he would weigh down into Bruce's hands. He could feel a slight increase in the pulse of blood flowing a cell's breadth beneath him. Then he sensed Bruce shifting his weight, leaning down...
He met Bruce's lips with his own, stretching face and arms out to kiss and tangle fingers in Bruce's hair. So he was without cowl as well. Interesting.
*Did you come to seduce me?* J'onn asked, letting his body expand to fill Bruce's arms, morphing into his Alana form as he read the thoughts flowing through his lover's mind.
Bruce broke the kiss, prompting J'onn to open his eyes. Bruce was smiling faintly. "I hadn't planned on it, but as I have nothing more urgent to attend to..."
J'onn smiled, letting Alana fingers trail up from Bruce's knee to harder territory. "This seems pretty urgent," he remarked aloud in sultry tones.
A line of bad movie dialogue - but the mental impulse behind it carried a greater weight. Welcome, joy, and pleasure. Such pleasure. Bruce strained to repress the smile then...let it go. He was safe here. Safe, and warm, and... ohhhh...
Something like velvet brushed the back of Bruce's knee's, sending a shiver along the length of his bare spine.
He gasped.
Making love with J'onn was always... magnificent... and.... surprising.
Bruce felt J'onn's hand close as Alana's lips swept over his own. He raised one hand to her hair, feeling it twine around his fingers as curls equally soft brushed over....
*BDEET* *BDEET*
J'onn silenced the alarm with a mental acknowledgement.
`Damn.' A mutter from Bruce. Perhaps verbal.
J'onn reformed himself as Bruce reached instinctively for the com-link strapped to his wrist. All else he had left behind, but that particular device was immutable. At least as long as the Bat didn't want to be captured and restrained his own security improvements.
"Batman."
"Batman. All members to command center." Diana, sounding nervous. Batman rolled, automatically reaching for the armor that should be...
"Shit."
*Where?* A mental question.
"My quarters."
Which, J'onn understood without further words, were in the other wing of the residential section. In the suite farthest from the one they both stood in. Perhaps, J'onn considered, when it might be done discreetly, he should do something about that?
But - to the immediate need.
"Stand up." Words this time. Bruce's mind was already closing, his attention being focused into the Bat.
Batman obeyed - more from training then from intent.
J'onn rolled over his lover, linking through the last open channel to Bruce's mind for the needful details of the most appropriate suit.
"You?" Definitely a question. Not yet hostile, but wary.
J'onn sent a wave of reassurance. "Lift your foot."
Batman did so, this time with dawning comprehension.
J'onn slid under the sole, linking seamlessly.
"Not *quite* as good in the electronics" , he whispered into one cowl-covered ear. "but flawless to human eyes. And the armor is better."
"I'll keep that in mind." A Bat-growl. Fierce, but not quite covering the pulse of gratitude.
Pleasure and amusement in reply. *I'll mention that to Ace.*
J'onn sent out an edge of black cape to open the door as the now-yellow zo'ok settled around Batman's waist.
"You can't...." Not a question. Quite.
J'onn smiled, enjoying the flex of muscle as Batman strode into the corridor. *If it's a mission, no one will question your returning to your quarters to gather equipment.*
************
Green Lantern and Superman were still settling into their chairs as Batman strode into the gathering.
"Batman." Kyle looked up over his invariable green sketchpad. "Where's J'onn?"
"Do not fret, Kyle." J'onn's voice rolled from a monitor. "While I am delayed physically, I am here mentally."
That brought a corkscrew ear out from Plasticman. "You OK, green guy?"
"Quite healthy, merely delayed. I will be ready for the mission."
"Then," Wonder Woman addressed the table. "If you will attend to the center monitor?"
They did so.
*J'onn?* A tight focused thought from Batman. *It would be easier to concentrate if my boot was not licking my toes.*
J'onn grinned and flexed mischievously across Batman's backside before settling his attention on the monitor screen. For a moment he was too entertained by Batman's impressive control of his reaction to pay close attention to the worried looking STAR Labs scientist on the screen, but when the image of the presumed threat appeared on the screen, he sobered.
"-thought it was just a light phenomenon until it consumed our probe and began moving out of the asteroid belt. You can see it destroying asteroids in this footage."
"Plelloch," J'onn breathed through one of the monitors, watching the amorphous light and cloud show drift lazily into a tighter orbit of the sun, brightly illuminated from time to time by the explosion of a small asteroid in its path.
"J'onn?" Superman asked.
"Professor Steinmetz, let the governments of Earth know that the Justice League is on the case and that there should be no reason for alarm," J'onn stated.
"What is it?" Steinmetz pressed.
"It is only a plelloch. They have visited this galaxy before."
"It is some sort of creature, then? Perhaps we should capture it -"
"Negative, Professor," J'onn overruled as his teammates managed to keep puzzlement off their faces for the sake of the monitor. "Plelloch are without malice, but they can still be fantastically dangerous. And we would not want to teach such a powerful being to value retribution."
"J'onn is right," Superman interceded. "If merely diverting this plelloch is enough to spare the Earth, than that is the strategy we will take. We will contact you when everything is under control.
Justice League out."
(2)
The central monitor screen winked to blackness and the blandly reassuring expressions of the Justice Leaguers gave way to utter bewilderment. "J'onn, what is that thing?" Wonder Woman asked.
J'onn set himself to massaging tension from Batman's shoulders as he answered through the monitor. "It's a plelloch. They're like intergalactic puppies, really. We were visited by one when I was a child on Mars."
"How come we never heard of it, then?" Kyle challenged suspiciously.
"J'onn was a child on Mars 48,000 years ago," Batman pointed out coldly, his back tensing again to demand more of J'onn's attention.
"Got ya there, ringding," Wally remarked. "So what do we do about this big puppy, then?"
"You? Nothing. Batman and I should be sufficient to meet this threat."
"Threat?" Superman questioned. "I thought you said it was just -"
"It is just a innocent creature. But like your puppies, it wants to play. And if it is not made aware of the fragility of its potential playthings, it will become a danger to Earth."
"Fragility," Batman stated flatly, prompting J'onn to tighten around him the slightest bit, enough to remind him that he was protected and loved - and could be oh-so-easily crushed.
"Apologies, Batman," J'onn said over the monitor, "but you are the lone member of the Justice League who can be presented to the plelloch as an example of what sort of creature dwells on Earth. The STAR Labs probe made it think it had found people to play with, as the Martians once
did, and it must be made to understand that that is not the case. As a telepath, I can connect with it and explain."
"And you cannot make such explanations without Batman?" Superman asked warily. "Or maybe we can all go out to it?"
"Superman," J'onn began patiently. "I did not compare it to a puppy lightly. If it gets too excited -"
Abruptly Plasticman adopted the form of a small puppy, jumping onto the table and tearing across its surface, scattering papers and prompting Kyle to snatch his sketchpad protectively to his chest. "O'Brian!" Kyle protested.
"Plasticman is quite right," J'onn stated mildly, brushing the curve of Bruce's ear to ease the hard glare he was giving to his teammate. "And an excited plelloch will attract others. We will wear down long before they will."
Aquaman nodded. "Are you sure it might not be wise to bring me along?" he asked. "This plelloch sounds much like some of our ocean creatures."
"Which is why we need you to remain here in case Batman and I are unable to persuade it to go. You and the other Atlanteans are far better equipped to handle a playful plelloch without harm - would perhaps even gain much from the experience.
"There is a chance you would fail?" Wonder Woman asked worriedly.
"Diana, there is always that chance. Even if it's incredibly unlikely, you know the wisdom of a backup plan."
"J'onn is right," Batman added. "Unless there is need for further discussion?"
Superman hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. "No. This plan is fine. Although I would appreciate a thorough briefing on any other such 'intergalactic puppies' we might run across."
"The plelloch are in the database, Superman - but as you can see, they are rather difficult to describe. Batman, you will meet me at the jumpships?"
Batman stood, and J'onn delighted in the ripple of thigh muscle that accompanied the motion. "I should probably stop in my quarters for -"
"You should be fine as you are," J'onn interrupted, accompanying his words with whisper kisses along the arc of Batman's neck.
*J'onn,* Batman protested mentally, his aggravation tempered by a renewed stirring below his waist.
*Trust me, Bruce. This is the best way to face a plelloch. It will be amused and charmed and will drift away in search of a companion.*
Batman turned on heel and strode purposefully toward the door out of the conference room. *J'onn, are you proposing-?*
"Batman!" Superman's voice cut through his thoughts, and J'onn felt Bruce struggling to keep his face stern.
"Yes, Superman?" he asked without turning.
"Be careful."
"Always," Batman replied, resuming his stiff exit and heading to the launch bay.
*That's exactly what I'm proposing,* J'onn purred, pressing soft lips just beside the curve of Bruce's hip socket, then smiling and adding a nibble when the action was almost enough to cause Batman's steady movement to falter.
*J'onn,* Bruce protested weakly. *At least wait until we're in the jumpship.*
J'onn acquiesced, refraining from doing more than feeling powerful muscles pump against him as Batman continued to the launch bay and climbed into the Martian ship. Once the canopy was closed, J'onn stretched himself, changing the dimensions of the Batsuit into something closer to a natural Martian shape, webbing tendrils of himself into the semi-organic circuitry of the jumpship. "We're on our way," he reported to the rest of the League.
"Good luck, gentlemen," Wonder Woman's voice replied as J'onn ignited the engine and taxied toward the exit.
"Thank you, Wonder Woman," Batman answered before swiftly switching the comlink to standby. His breath escaped in a hiss as J'onn's shifting form slid over every surface of his skin, here and there dipping between cells in teasing caresses.
*Yes,* J'onn remarked playfully as he piloted the jumpship clear of the Watchtower, *I do feel lucky.*
Batman waited until the com light shifted from green to red before growling. "You mean you feel like *getting* lucky."
That gained him lick on his ear. "I already have. I met you." J'onn's voice was light. "Everything after that was just... a bonus."
A bonus - the mental tone stressed, that J'onn well deserved and was *determined* to collect. So Bruce would do well to just relax and enjoy the inevitable. "Besides," the small voice continued. "I don't *feel* you complaining."
J'onn felt the twitch of cheek muscles against the cowl as Batman instantaneously suppressed the smile.
(3)
"Watchtower to jumpship." Wonder Woman's voice crackled suddenly into the small cabin.
Batman jumped *almost* out of his - or at least J'onn's - skin.
*Saved by the bell* J'onn thought at his lover as Batman flipped open the link with unnecessary force.
"Jumpship to Tower." Batman snapped. "We are tracking the plelloch, and show thirty seven minutes to contact."
"Excellent. I just wanted you to know that Superman and Flash have gone earthside. We had a call on a landslide in Peru. Plas will be taking over the monitor, but Aquaman and myself will remain in the Tower in case you need backup."
"Acknowledged."
J'onn chuckled softly as he enjoyed his lover's confusion. A part of Batman was irritated that his mission was being relegated to Plasticman - who for all his competence was not generally considered the `A-list' of the team. An equal part was irritated that the two `powerhouses" - Diana and Orin - felt they had to watch over the Bat. And a smaller, long ignored part, was torn between being irritated and being grateful for the interruption.
J'onn sent out a tendril to cut the screen.
"Thirty seven minutes to contact." J'onn repeated. " Whatever shall we do?" The words came in stereo, as lips formed over both of Bruce's ears and nibbled their way down his nape. The black hair was short there, but very, very soft. And it tickled back when J'onn sent out tendrils to massage it.
"JLA protocols suggest checking our systems."
"Right." J'onn spun off a dozen tendrils, sending them flashing over the controls. "Finished."
*what...*
Batman managed to suppress the words, but not the thought, so J'onn answered teasingly. "The ship runs on bio-telepathic controls. All systems are secured." A wave of tiny fingers ran over still-tense shoulders as J'onn shifted his voice from ear to ear. "All except one system."
Batman shuddered - refusing to moan - as new lips sprouted in the palms of each glove.
"Although" J'onn's voice echoed faintly, coming now from the mouth opening around Bruce's left ankle bone. "In thirty seven minutes..." Still another set of lips sprouted at the back of his right knee.
Batman gasped.
Sublimation was useless. Not even a more serious xenophobe than the Bat could work up true anxiety against an interstellar puppy.
Distraction was not going to work. Not with a telepath.
The Batman summoned up his readings on tantric techniques.
J'onn`s mental whirlwind blew the knowledge out of his mind.
*Not this time, Bruce.* J'onn mental voice was determined. Bruce could growl. He could sulk. He could even hold down his respiration and *try* to shield his mind. He couldn't control the neuron spark. And those bio-electrical impulses were telling J'onn that at least parts of Bruce were feeling very lucky indeed.
J'onn twisted a narrow tongue around Bruce's left little toe. It was a bit out of alignment. Not noticeable, really. He doubted that any of Bruce's casual lovers had ever noticed the minuscule twist. He had - and he cherished it. A flaw in the polished beauty that otherwise was Bruce Wayne. A weakness in the creation that was the Bat. Something individual. Unique. Rare. *You are mine, Bruce*
A gasp - a body-long shudder - and the Dark Knight surrendered.
Waves of tiny nubs sprouted over every inside surface of the dark armor, tapping against every muscle until it yielded into relaxation. Agile tendrils twined under the last bits of unwelcome fabric,
replacing their dead resistance with a living touch.
That was it.
Bruce reached down - only to meet the unyielding dome of his crotch guard.
"I need." Bruce's rich soprano, rather then the Bat's dark baritone - but no less demanding.
A bit of cape flared up to snatch the hand and bind it to the ship's chair.
"Nothing I won't supply" J'onn whispered. "Eventually."
The nubs morphed to fingers, circling and massaging around the captive limbs. Starting at wrists and ankles, they moved slowly up, leaving blissful fire in their wake.
Bruce sent up a vague yearning for `Alana' - only to be met with the soft mental retort. `*I'm* perfectly comfortable with the form I'm in... and the form that's in me.
This comment was accompanied by a firm squeeze to one thigh as the opposite inner knee felt a soft suction and a gentle swirl of tongue. Bruce raised his hips futilely, almost unconsciously, and bit his lip against a moan.
*This isn't exactly fair,* he protested, realizing J'onn's gentle restraints would not budge. Any explanation he could offer was derailed by the track of lips along the lower edge of his right
pectoral muscle, a mix of nibbles and licks that ended in the crease of his armpit in a way that would have tickled if it weren't sending yet another wave of pure pleasure through Bruce's brain.
*Not fair that I have you completely at my mercy?* J'onn cooed into his left ear as massaging fingers finally made their way to hips and shoulders. Bruce thrust his hips again as one thumb slipped just past the curve of his hip socket, but that only served to move J'onn's attentions northward, away from the desired contact. A kiss at the very base of Bruce's spine elicited a cut off gasp as J'onn's voice shifted to his right ear. *Not fair that for once, you are not in control?*
Yes, all those things, Bruce wanted to protest, but those slim digits were working their way between his ribs, stirring his stomach to butterflies and causing him to gulp for air rather than merely breathe. He strained forward again as every vertebra found itself the exclusive property of another set of lips. Countless soft caresses tingled across his scalp, and a rhythmic pulsing of the suit began around his arms and legs. "J'onn," he begged, again rolling his hips.
He felt a smile in the lips that brushed kisses over his eyelids.
*bding*
Bruce watched as a tendril of cape flipped the comlink open - audio only. A mouth sprouted from his suit, just above his navel. "Go ahead, Plasticman." The words vibrated against Bruce's abs, forcing him to concentrate on keeping his breathing level - a task made more difficult by the firm massage moving slowly down his back and still lower...
"Just thought you'd want to know the plelloch seems to have shifted toward you. You sure that ship can handle contact? I just saw the replay of what it did to the probe-"
"That's why we took the jumpship, Plas," J'onn explained patiently, the speaking mouth moving lower on Bruce's body.
"Right. Just -"
"I appreciate the thought, Plasticman. We'll be fine. J'onn out." By the word "out," the roving external mouth had settled a scant inch above the cod piece, and the massaging hands at his back trailed a series of feather light strokes even lower. Bruce gritted his teeth against involuntary vocalizations, reduced to holding his breath by the end of the call because he could no longer stay silent otherwise.
"Now where were we?" J'onn asked conversationally, a lower lip tapping against the protective gear over Bruce's groin as he spoke.
The answer was a growled mental order. *You were about to take that mouth and swallow my cock.*
Laughter sprang from almost every inch of the suit, a vibration of lips against every nerve save those hungriest for J'onn's touch. "Why Bruce Wayne!" The voice roved from mouth to mouth, alternating with kisses and nips and sucks and breaths of air. "Are you talking *dirty* to me?"
Bruce turned his face away from a pair of offered lips to snarl... "Damn it - J'onn. Stop fucking around and *fuck* me." Martha Wayne's son had vanished. Beyond even the Bat - it was the pure Matches Malone rasp.
J'onn chucked slightly into his lovers left ear as the lips nearer the right asked in mock-shock. "Why Bruce! Whatever would Alfred say?"
That brought a shiver and a whimper from one small part of Bruce's midbrain. Because baby Brucie "did* know what Alfred would say - and do. But only from one part, because the larger part of Bruce's brain was too busy surfing the waves of incoming bliss to care.
Another pair of mouths - one for each nipple - and even the last bit of Brucie brain gave way.
Perfect, J'onn thought. Since the Scarecrow incident Batman has spent too much time disciplining his thoughts and too little time listening to his body. It was.... needful.. to balance things out.
*Now!!!* Bruce thrust up, every clenched muscle joining in the mental demand.
*Now." J'onn allowed.
Labial lips formed as the armored crotch guard inverted on itself. The human's body quivered as sensation flooded him, mouths and fingers and… no part of him was untouched, unencompassed.
Uncounted living hairs, soft as velvet, sought out and teased every single separate nerve.
*Fire*
Bruce would have screamed - but his lungs wouldn't quite engage.
*Bliss*
J'onn exploded, spun off tendrils sliding down Bruce's body to puddle softly around him in the fitted chair.
*Nothing*
(4)
Bruce's mind came back first, waking to find his body cocooned in a bed of warm softness. He lay there, unmoving, almost unthinking, as the oversensitive neurons struggled to rebalance themselves to more human messages.
Bruce lifted one too-heavy hand, stroking his fingertips over the glossy greenness. Mindless contentment resolved itself to *Oh, J'onn.*
The answer came back.
*peace*
*oneness*
*love*
*******************************************
A sudden sound shook through the hull, sending a ripple over the pool of J'onn.
Bruce jerked. "Did you feel?"
"The ship move?" J'onn's familiar face emerged, body following as the zo'ok assumed its formal red and blue structure. "Yes. The pelloch has noticed us."
Bruce stood, straightening the remnants of clothing still hanging about his body. "And now what?"
J'onn swirled up, flowing like chocolate until he had sealed his lover's terran form inside a solid shell of black and green. "And now you see the universe through Martian eyes."
Bruce blinked, realizing that J'onn had left no opening in this new armor he had created. A hint of panic flared in a small corner of his brain, soothed away instantly by J'onn's steady touch and a faint sensation of air flowing past his face. *None of that now that I've finally got you relaxed,* J'onn chided, a soft kiss to Bruce's nape accentuating the point.
*We are on a mission,* Bruce pointed out, stretching within the protective shell of J'onn's body and relishing the pulses of energy to his outstretched fingers and toes. He *was* relaxed, he realized, and it was hard to muster his game face for the approaching plelloch.
*Surrounding* plelloch, he corrected, realizing that the view through the jumpship windows was all kaleidoscope phosphorescence. Dizzying, except - Martian eyes. J'onn was projecting what he saw direct to the optic center of Bruce's brain, but the vision was filtered. Bruce knew without being told that without the intervention from his lover the light show would be blinding as well as dizzying, a sensory overload which likely would have crippled Bruce. This way it was just - pretty.
And rather noisy.
J'onn's enhanced senses fed Bruce with a not-quite-white-noise which accompanied the light, sounds like distant laughter and excited breathing and layers of overlapping chatter.
Another tremor shook the jumpship and Bruce heard J'onn's thoughts projecting out. *Patience, traveler.*
Even being warned of a plelloch's nature didn't quite prepare Bruce for the telepathic response which translated through J'onn to him. *MARTIAN! Oboyoboyoboy!*
*It really is a puppy,* Bruce remarked.
*Shh,* J'onn directed, walking to the jumpship's hatch.
*J'onn?* There was alarm in Bruce's tone, and he pulled back his hand to resist J'onn's reach for the door.
*Relax, Bruce,* J'onn soothed, trailing an internal hand down Bruce's cheek in a calming gesture the other man would not normally accept.
Bruce closed his eyes, still a bit watery-kneed and susceptible to J'onn's touch.
*I surround you,* J'onn pointed out quietly. *As long as I am here, you will be able to breathe and be warm no matter how deep in space we are.*
*But if-*
*Trust, Bruce. You'll see.* J'onn waited a moment, mentally coaxing Bruce back to perfect calm, then triggered the hatch. The door whisked open to reveal a brightness all around.
J'onn drifted out of the ship and into the brightness, and again the plelloch cried, *MARTIAN!* This time it must have extended some kind of touch, for Bruce felt a hint of impact through J'onn and suddenly they both were rolling and J'onn was - laughing? He could feel tingling discharges of electricity through the Martian's body, but the jolts only seemed to tickle J'onn, and he laughed and rolled under the assault with a kind of youthful abandon Bruce had never seen in his lover.
It was irresistible. The vibrations of J'onn's flesh pressed against his and the echo of his laughter in Bruce's mind tapped too often buried parts of Bruce's psyche. He felt flooded with visceral memory, remembering exactly the emotional high of play-wrestling a very young Dick Grayson to the ground, feeling the intensity of the boy's love and loyalty in Dick's ringing laughter. And somehow his mind found its way back to a much earlier time, a memory so long ago to be completely forgotten until this moment, of Thomas Wayne, breaking his formal reserve to rough house with his boy. Had he truly forgotten how good it was to laugh? His stomach was almost hurting from the paroxysms that rocked him now, but even the dull pain felt good.
But now J'onn was rocking in a more soothing motion, and he was talking to the plelloch. *All right, settle, settle. I'm glad to see you, too.*
Bruce's gasping breaths began to fill his lungs more effectively, and guffaws stilled to an occasional chuckle. He could "hear" the plelloch in his mind, its tone wheedling.
*I thought you wouldn't come. I called and I called -*
*I didn't hear you,* J'onn apologized. *I think you were not loud enough.*
*Hmph,* the plelloch pouted. *I was, too. I know how far I have to yell.*
*I was further than you called. The third planet, not the fourth.*
*Well, your people should've heard me. I was calling.*
*My people are gone, traveler.*
Bruce shifted inside the armor to offer comforting strokes to the soft skin of J'onn which surrounded him, but he was surprised that the Martian's tone lacked some of the sadness which usually rolled through him when he talked about the fate of Mars.
*Gone?* The plelloch asked, its tone confused. *Where did they go? All to the third planet with you? Let's go then!*
*No, traveler,* J'onn said firmly. *They are gone. Forever gone.*
More confusion radiated from the plelloch, and Bruce had a distinct sense of again being shielded from the creature.
*Gone? Not coming back?*
The questions rang innocently enough, but Bruce ached for J'onn, and he felt a hand grasp his inside the armor as a whisper thought floated through: *I'm okay, Bruce. I have you.* To the plelloch, though, J'onn said ruefully, *No. Not coming back.*
The impression that he was being shielded suddenly intensified as the plelloch brightened around them and a disconsolate howl rang from it. It was a cry of pure, frustrated disappointment - but not sadness.
*Plelloch do not understand sadness,* J'onn explained softly, filtering out still more of the plelloch's clamor. *And they don't dwell for long on disappointment. You'll see.*
As if on cue, the howling ceased, replaced by the telepathic equivalent of a sniffle. *But I wanted to play.*
*A bit self-centered,* Bruce remarked, earning a chuckle from J'onn.
*I did say puppy, right?* the Martian reminded him. *Although I could've compared it to an intercelestial two year old.*
Overlaying this conversation were J'onn's calming outward gestures and sounds, and Bruce could vaguely feel the plelloch curling around him, cradling J'onn's body with a strength that would break bones. Inside the protective cocoon of J'onn, Bruce remained untouched, although the warmth of the creature's comforting/comforted snuggle tingled through his body.
*You don't have anyone left to play with,* the plelloch bemoaned, its tone a mix of curiosity and pity.
*That is not quite true,* J'onn hedged. *But yes, there are no more Martians.*
*I know!* the plelloch exclaimed, suddenly bounding joyfully again. *You can come with me. There's lots of people who would want to play with Martians!* This last announcement was accompanied by a veritable photo catalogue of alien visages, many of which were beyond Bruce's imagination. Bruce felt suddenly awed by the scope and scale of the universe, and by this creature who roved through it, a great wandering puppy with no greater desire than to play.
And, he realized, he was equally awed by J'onn, who was treating it all with matter-of-fact good humor. Even now, he could feel J'onn's lips curling into an impish smile, and an elbow nudged him in the ribs in a clear "watch this" gesture. *But I can't run away with you,* J'onn protested, *I don't even know your name!*
Bruce couldn't help it. His body and mind were too relaxed, and the walls were already down. He laughed aloud, and around him he felt J'onn encase him in a full body hug, rocking him a little in a happy delight that seemed to echo that of the plelloch.
The plelloch, for its part, missed the joke, and only replied. *My name? That's easy.* And it projected a feeling that tickled inside the brain and could not begin to be a word and Bruce found himself laughing some more at the impossibility of ever rendering such an easy name.
*What?* J'onn teased him. *You can't say -* and he repeated the feeling before turning his attention outward again.
*What a perfect name!* he projected. *I am J'onn.*
*J'onn,* the plelloch repeated carefully, then gave the impression of wrinkling its nose. *That's not a Martian name. Martians have names like -*
Bruce started as the plelloch projected waves of impressions, mental gestures that tasted and sounded and tingled and brightened and scented the air.
*In fact, you remind me of-* the plelloch began, gesturing again in a way that immediately flooded Bruce's mind with something that *did* resonate of J'onn-ness and drew a bit of a gasp and a sad kind of laugh from his lover.
*I should,* J'onn replied. *She was my mother.*
(5)
*Oh!* the plelloch exclaimed in delight, filling Bruce's mind with the sound of clapping hands.
Bruce tuned them out in favor of a more pressing concern. *Is this true?* he asked J'onn quietly. *You have another name?*
*Yes,* J'onn admitted, pressing a pair of lips to Bruce's forehead. *It does not translate, so I have long abandoned it.*
*But these - so beautiful. It must -* Bruce broke off, remembering how reluctant J'onn had been to leave the dream world constructed for him by the Know Man and Dr. Destiny so long ago. J'onn had been right then - none of them understood exactly how much J'onn had lost. Even his name -
*Bruce,* J'onn cautioned, building his face into the interior of himself to rest his forehead against Bruce's and meet his lover's eyes. *Do you really think my true Martian name is more beautiful than the cadences in your mind when you call to me?*
*I can learn it,* Bruce insisted earnestly. *I want to know it, to call you by it.*
Another kiss to the forehead, this one communicating a sense of profound patience. *We can discuss it,* J'onn decided. *But not now.*
Bruce resisted the urge to argue, knowing from J'onn's tone that it would be fruitless. And, he remembered, there was the plelloch. Milk run or not, this was still a mission - not the time for a quarrel.
If the plelloch, for its part, noticed J'onn's distraction, it showed no sign. In fact, it was only just calming from its excitement at discovering J'onn's lineage - calming enough to ask, *But your beautiful mother surely did not name you "J'onn." What did she call you?*
Now Bruce felt a creeping sense of guilt. J'onn clearly did not want to reveal his Martian name, and to hear the plelloch demand it made his own demanding feel petty and childish. *Or loving and sweet,* J'onn corrected gently, sending a comfortable wave of acceptance through Bruce's mind as his own attention focused on the plelloch.
*My new people called me J'onn, and I do not wish to reject this name they gave me,* J'onn demurred, making his loss feel, even to Bruce, like a gain. Bruce turned his head to kiss the inside surface of J'onn's cheek, projecting his sense of wonder. One thigh received a grateful squeeze in response.
*New people?* the plelloch was wondering. *Why didn't you say so? Let's go!*
*WAIT!* J'onn ordered, arresting the plelloch's motion and prompting another wave of confusion.
*Why? Don't they want to play?* The plelloch sounded hurt.
*It's not that they don't want to,* J'onn explained patiently. *It is that they can't.*
*Can't?* Another wave of puzzlement rolled from the plelloch.
*They are very delicate creatures,* J'onn described, ignoring a snort from Bruce. *And they are young in the universe. They do not even have telepathy yet.*
*No telepathy?* The plelloch sounded incredulous. *You mean they can't even *talk*?*
J'onn laughed, pressing a pair of lips to Bruce's to forestall a comment. *They can talk, just not in the way you are used to. They vibrate the air.*
*Air?*
Bruce sensed that J'onn was sending an explanatory image.
*That's crazy, J'onn,* the plelloch objected, its tone rebuking him for suggesting something so incredible.
*Maybe,* J'onn agreed, *but true. Shall I prove it to you?*
*We can go see?* the plelloch suggested enthusiastically.
*No,* J'onn corrected. *They would not understand you. They would be frightened and many of them would get hurt.*
The plelloch conveyed a mental snort. *Are you sure they are even people?*
Bruce felt a gentle hand touch the back of his head, then trail a gentle caress down the length of his spine, prompting an involuntary shiver accompanied by a flood of warmth. *Quite sure,* J'onn assured. *I have one with me.*
The plelloch gasped. *Really?* it squeaked. *Lemme see, lemme see!*
*Not if you're going to be like this,* J'onn denied, his tone almost cranky as he curled protectively around Bruce. Whatever the plelloch was doing was not reaching through J'onn's filtering, and Bruce suspected there was a very good reason.
He could, however, feel the plelloch's effort to calm itself. *Please?* it begged. *I promise I'll do what you tell me and I won't hurt it.*
J'onn paused, considering. *You'll have to be very careful,* he cautioned.
*I can be careful. Honest.*
*And you'll need to dim the lights.* What he actually said was an order that Bruce couldn't quite follow, but J'onn assured him that it was related to the light show around them.
*Even the lights will hurt it? You mean it's even more fragile than a Tamaranian?*
*Yes,* J'onn affirmed as Bruce blinked within him.
*It thinks Tamaranians are fragile?*
*They are,* J'onn pointed out, his tone distracted. He turned his projection back to the plelloch. *And you will need to create atmosphere.*
*Atmosphere? What -* It paused, and it seemed J'onn must be feeding it information, for then it said. *Really? Ooo-kay. You say so. This good?*
*Hmm. Perhaps more...*
Bruce began to tune the conversation out, resting back into the comforting warmth of J'onn. The armor around him snuggled against his body, occasionally dropping a kiss here or there as outwardly J'onn directed the plelloch. Bruce could not remember feeling so safe.
**************************************************
Plasticman finished entering the last of the new data on the plelloch into the file and had flagged its location in the JLA mainframe so J'onn and Bruce could easily pull it up for their debrief. For all J'onn's reassurance, the thing looked damned scary, a nightmare special effect from Space Trek, except real. It reminded him of things like the suneater, big ineffable *things* that just seemed to exist out there, running roughshod over entire worlds and solar systems with unreasoning and inexorable power. The very thought made him shudder.
Which was why, instead of closing the file once he'd updated it, he settled back in the monitor chair to actually *read* it.
Like many of the files in the Watchtower computer, it was clear that the original entry had been compiled by the White Martians. Plasticman had read enough of J'onn's careful translations of their databases to recognize the style. J'onn tended to edit out the worst of the White Martian editorializing, softening it as much as he could without corrupting their observations. To the plelloch file, however, J'onn had written an entire addendum, and he had heavily footnoted the White Martian translation.
It was actually as much a primer on Martian politics - and the difference between Martians and humans - as it was a description of the plelloch. Gauging from the scorn in the White Martian notes, and their obvious resentment that they had been unable to harness the power of the creatures to any nefarious ends, it was clear enough why the White Martians had no visual image of the plelloch on file. It was also clear why J'onn had told Superman that the plelloch were difficult to describe. Having seen one, Plasticman could see the correlation between the description and the actual being, but without having seen one? Martians clearly "saw" more in the display of light and power than humans could begin to perceive.
"It is impossible," J'onn had footnoted at one point, "for any being with even the slightest telepathy to come within range of plelloch and maintain any malevolent intent." In his own addendum, he had described the sort of playful euphoria which contact with a plelloch induced, and the tone of it was almost wistful. And vaguely warning, a caution to his teammates if they should somehow end up confronting a plelloch without J'onn. "I am not certain that a plelloch could not be harnessed by a people lacking telepathy or empathy, although I am certain that the only affect of such harnessing would be to teach the plelloch to lash out against its captors." His notes went on to catalogue how devastating such a lashing out would be, how powerful a plelloch truly was.
*bding*
Plas glanced at the monitor display, hoping it was J'onn or Batman calling in. It wasn't.
"Watchtower," he answered. "What's up, GL?"
Kyle's face appeared on the screen. "Just wondering if there's any word on the mission."
"Nope. Nada. I talked to J'onn about an hour ago and got a distinct, 'don't call us, we'll call you,' vibe."
"From J'onn?" Kyle sounded surprised.
"Checking this file, it kinda makes sense. I think I'd rather just let J'onn shoo it away, thank you very much." Plasticman let one eye stretch out to continue reading the text as he talked.
"Ew. O'Brian, don't DO that," Kyle objected with a shudder.
"What?" Plasticman questioned. "This?" He stretched both eyes out, corkscrewing them around one another crazily.
Kyle winced. "I'm sorry I called. You'll let me know when everything's sewn up?"
Eel morphed into a giant embroidery hoop with a needle poised over it. "Rogerooni, GL."
"Great," Kyle said hurriedly, severing the connection.
"Heh," Plasticman remarked, turning his full attention back to the file and a footnote he hadn't previously noticed.
"As I was a child when the plelloch last visited this system, I can only speculate on the ways that plelloch affect adults and their sense of play. I do know that the Martian population dramatically increased in the months following the plelloch's appearance."
Eel leaned back in the chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
(6)
*NOW can I see it?* the plelloch asked plaintively.
J'onn hesitated. *A moment,* he requested, finally returning his full attention to the half-sleeping man inside him.
*Bruce,* he said softly, running hands along his chest to rest finally on his shoulders.
*Yes.* Almost the Bat. A noble effort, J'onn thought, smiling to himself.
*The plelloch has created an atmosphere where it will be safe for you if I open you to it. Are you ready-?*
*You're here.* Total trust. J'onn had rarely seen Bruce so amenable to anything, and certainly not over such a stretch of time. He wondered if the plelloch's influence was tangible through their telepathic link, or if perhaps a plelloch could touch minds which could not really reach it. Either way, it merited mention.
*I should warn you before we do this - a plelloch touches certain parts of the mind -*
*I'm sure it will be fine.* That actually was the Bat, guarded, protective - and trusting. J'onn gave a happy squeeze to his lover's body.
"Okay, here goes,* he announced, at the same time admonishing the plelloch, *Be gentle.*
The plelloch gave an air of someone holding his breath as J'onn created a vertical split in his armored exterior, unfolding like rose petals to gradually reveal the treasure within him to the waist.
The plelloch waited with an appropriate air of drama.
Finally, Bruce was visible, and the plelloch stretched forward in thoughts, its ambience radiating total awe. *Oh,* it sighed, unconsciously brightening and beginning to writhe in excitement.
J'onn slammed closed around Bruce, hugging him protectively. *I said gentle!* he scolded, turning his thoughts to the man inside.
*Bruce?* His skin was flushed, his pulse hammering, and his mind - his mind held a fervent desire to be kissed. J'onn pressed lips to Bruce's mouth and was swept into a wrangling of tongues and a futile desire for Bruce to grope his arms around him.
For a moment, thought was impossible, then Bruce finally pulled back a little to catch his breath. "You did warn me," he breathed, unable for the moment to give his thoughts the same coherence words offered him.
*Yes,* J'onn agreed. *But it is so undisciplined. I fear it will harm you.*
Dimly, they both could hear the plelloch. *Please, J'onn! I'll be extra gentle. Super gentle. It's so beautiful!*
*I'm willing to chance it,* Bruce purred, leaning forward into his lover's flesh.
J'onn peeled back again - just a bit. Just enough to let Bruce's face and shoulder peek out from the cushions of green protection.
*Beautiful*
Just a flute-note of thought, playing through J'onn's mind and tickling over the top of Bruce's own consciousness.
It was, Bruce confessed. Bright circles of stars spun around him - eager but restrained. Pink clouds giggled; a giggle that tingled like champagne bubbles against Bruce's exposed skin. A... brightness... crept towards him, tremulous and slow as a perching butterfly.
If asked before, Batman would have insisted that it was impossible for a human to actually *feel* light. At least not and survive. But that was before. He could feel this. Delicate beams of light that somehow translated to pressure against his skin. Warmth - and force. Upon him. Around him. Within him. But still, it did not seem to burn. And J'onn did not intervene.
A touch of something not-quite-heard against his thoughts. Sweet, and fleeting, and followed by a wistful insistence rising up from J'onn. That also unheard - but more easily interpreted. Approval.
J'onn opened his cocoon a bit more, freeing Bruce's chest and arms into the glowing atmosphere.
The touch of a breeze. Truly a touch, as if the shifting air carried its memory back to some waiting audience.
*soft*
The clouds curled up to cradle both him and J'onn, holding them with the tender awe with which, as an young child, Bruce had once held a newborn kitten. Another memory lost to time, but now Bruce could again see his mother's face smiling down as he raised the purring fur ball up to his cheek. How wonderful - mystical - life had been at three.
The living light touched his cheek again in that same way.
*wise*
A sense of approval that so limited a creature had still understood so profound a point.
The clouds rolled back, and Bruce got the impression of intense concentration.
"Weeee pul-aaaay?"
Sound without a voice, singing out from all around him. Something between two thousand violins and the whisper of a mountain.
The call was so love-filled Bruce was tempted to agree, but J'onn was closing up again.
*You would play too rough.*
The impression of wide eyes. Large to plead and large to observe.
"Yuuuuuu pul-aaaaaay?" The clouds pleaded. "Ayyyy watcccch?"
J'onn paused, still open enough that Bruce was able to pull an arm free of his lover's protective cocoon and reach out to the plelloch around them. He could feel J'onn resisting the urge to pull him back in, warily allowing Bruce to interact with the creature on his own terms.
The clouds and light stretched forward tentatively, winding through Bruce's fingers and settling into his cupped hand. A mirror surface pooled on his palm, bulging with a surface tension beyond that of water. Liquid light, Bruce mused, marveling at it as his nerves were set tingling by the glissando of notes it played through his body. It looks like mercury, the Bat suddenly pointed out, appearing unexpectedly in Bruce's thoughts. The resemblance to the poisonous
liquid almost prompted Bruce to pull back his hand, but there was no heaviness to the light. Only the whispery warm brush of softest down, a sensation so at odds with what his eyes told him, and so contrary to the alarm of his well-honed instincts, that he felt suddenly overwhelmed. His body seemed catapulted beyond control, bleeding into sensations too deeply felt and heard and seen and tasted to be distinguished.
J'onn stretched out a tendril with fluid quickness, startling the plelloch back. *Careful,* he admonished, wrapping around Bruce's arm and drawing it back in.
*sorrysorrysorrysorry,* the plelloch rattled as J'onn began massaging feeling back into Bruce's thoroughly numbed hand.
*Shhh,* J'onn quieted, curling a cheek down to rest on the top of Bruce's head. He didn't close up now, observing that the plelloch was keeping the atmosphere stable. Instead he unwrapped himself a bit from Bruce, forming torso and head and arms while allowing his lower half to remain as armor. He hugged Bruce to his chest for a long moment, giving him a soothing heartbeat to listen to as Bruce squeezed his eyes shut and regained a sense of equilibrium.
"Iiiiitttt iissss ... " A pause, as if the slide of snowflake against snowflake was seeking a word. "...huuurrrrrrt?" Concern flooded the air with a scent of burnt hair and overripe peaches.
Bruce opened his eyes, willing his breathing to settle. The now-calming maelstrom of sensation receded into a delicious euphoria, replete with the warmth of Martian skin beneath his cheek and the whisper of red sand sliding across a landscape. Pins and needles dancing through his palm and fingers blazed into a new sensation at every pressure from J'onn's massaging digits. A pulsing squeeze of the armor that still clad his lower half reminded him of the rest of his body, and of the body around him. He smiled against J'onn's chest and pushed himself away from it. J'onn let him go.
Bruce faced outward again, letting the plelloch see that he was unharmed. Then he opened his mouth. The light had a *taste*, relief like summer plums that distracted him for a moment as he savored it. J'onn twined arms around his torso, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck that brought him back to himself, focused his feeling. Then he spoke. "My name is Bruce."
Distant thunder behind the drumming of heavy rain echoed back to him. "Buuuh-rrrrooooossss." The sensation of being a sigh pressed around J'onn and Bruce, caressing already roused flesh. J'onn shifted, still protective, but also letting smooth green catch the short hairs on Bruce's body as he stretched his head forward to kiss Bruce's left cheek.
He was feeling it, too, Bruce realized. The raw excitement, the anticipation of pure joy, the desire to *play.* Bruce rested his head back against the Martian's shoulder to give J'onn access to his lips.
"Yeeeeeesssssss," the leaf fall whispered. "Puh-lllaaayy."
J'onn's mouth tasted of a desert spring, his tongue working agilely along Bruce's. He paused to allow breath, fingers running through Bruce's hair and brushing shivers through his scalp. *I don't know that it can remain so controlled,* he cautioned Bruce, resting his lips against Bruce's ear. *Perhaps the jumpship would be -*
*Maybe,* Bruce considered, pressing his back into J'onn's chest and shuddering at the simultaneous give and resistance of J'onn's body. It felt like a mellow clarinet solo on a humid city summer night. *But could we try -?*
*I'm not sure I could react quickly enough to protect you if it gets too excited.*
*You would,* Bruce stated firmly, curling his toes to pinch up J'onn's flesh between them and earn a nip to his ankle in response.
J'onn trailed the back of a hand down Bruce's cheek. *He cannot fly,* J'onn projected at the plelloch, *and your touch must be a thousand times more gentle.*
Bruce got the impression of a negotiation around him, the light dimming only to create a deeper intensity of color, clouds billowing at their feet.
*What's happening?* he asked, more curious than concerned.
As if in answer, J'onn shifted form around him, leaving his legs suddenly free and his feet standing on a platform. He wrapped one hand securely around one of Bruce's arms. *We'll try it,* he explained. *Step down.*
(7)
Bruce eased one leg down into the flickering mist until it reached... something. Not steps. Nothing so solid. But the cloud underfoot gave just enough to wrap a secure surface under each footfall.
He looked out into the swirling distance. Seeming distance, at least. All certainly of perception was lost somewhere in the shifting sheets of colored lights. A tiny bit of the Bat squeaked it's warning, but the air was so warm - so comforting - that Bruce couldn't summon up any actual fear.
The living stars were far - so far - but so very bright.
"Juuummmmmmp. Ayyyyy kaaaaachhh."
Surrender was ... almost automatic. An obedience of desire rather then will. It took every remnant of control to look instead at J'onn.
*Go, Bruce.* J'onn answered the unasked question. "I will be with you.*
Bruce let go.
Falling. The hardest discipline. The stuff of instinctual nightmares. But?
Bruce spread his arms, relishing the sultry mists and needle fine ice of the clouds he plunged through.
Red.
Green.
Gold.
Cinnamon.
Trumpet jazz.
Colors of music and flavors of light.
And J'onn. Always J'onn. Beside him.
Twisting in a move learned from parasailing, Bruce angled towards a particularly brilliant cloud. Or mountain. Or sea.
Whatever.
A moment's worry. Without true gravity, would this work? But the breezes formed below him much the same as they would have on earth. Much the same - except that these zephyrs obeyed.
Bruce hit the cloud chest first, splashing a high crest of orange and silver as the ...water?... broke beneath him. Two kicks, and he was... swimming?... through a sea of pink.
A second splash, smaller, as J'onn dived past in a contrail of golden darts.
J'onn laughed, sending swarms of lime and purple... fish?... bubbles?... swirling around Bruce faster and faster until they exploded in a cascade of crimson stars.
Bruce followed the stars to the surface, breaking through just in time to see the lights spin off into the azure crests.
It was like.... body surfing. Body surfing, but with waves that reached up to balance him on their crests.
Like diving... but with a sea that welcomed him in.
Like flying... but held in hands that could not let him fall.
He spun back, waves parting to let him finish the triple flip Dick had never managed to coach him through on earth.
Bruce laughed.
The crimson stars came back.
The plelloch flowed over him, a ghost of the J'onn-armor.
Tendrils of sound and light. Not his, but they *felt* like him. Like somehow this was the movement his spirit was intended for, and not the clumsy limitations of muscle and bone he had so long accepted without question.
Growing wings, Bruce soared up into the emerald sky, spinning though the antenna array of the jumpship and tagging J'onn as he levitated underneath.
*Fuuuunnnn?"
*Yes,* Bruce's mind answered. *Fun.*
J'onn smiled at the unfamiliar joy of his companion, relishing the way Bruce's mind seemed free for the moment of the ever-present weight of responsibility and fear of loss. He had not dared hope that the plelloch would be able to reach Bruce. In fact, he had doubted his own memories of the creature's power. Yes, he recalled the way in which
the plelloch had abolished the fears of youth, but what were those anxieties compared to those learned in adulthood? It wasn't until the plelloch had touched him that he remembered the joy of being in the moment, the happiness of being alive and loved and well that dispersed all the heartache of past years.
He caught at Bruce's ankle as his human lover darted by, tumbling him lightly through the plelloch's artificial atmosphere. Bruce rolled instinctively, but quickly resumed his flight, freeing himself from J'onn's unresisting fingers in order to turn back and tackle the Martian against the hull of the jumpship. Bruce's face took on a wrinkle of worry at the solid thud of contact, and J'onn quickly reassured him, squirming out of Bruce's hold and darting away through mists of spoken verse without words.
Bruce laughed and pursued, moving too swiftly to evade J'onn's sudden capturing move which enfolded him in wreaths of mint julep. J'onn reveled in Bruce's surprise, then felt it become his own as searching fingers tickled his midsection and mischief rolled across his emotions.
Once again, he released Bruce, although he maintained the thin tether he couldn't bear to relinquish. Bruce seemed unaware of it - but as soon as the thought crossed J'onn's mind, Bruce had caught him in an embrace from behind, spinning J'onn easily as he projected, *I know you're there. It is just that it feels like an extension of me.*
J'onn smiled at that, reaching back to flip Bruce forward over his shoulder and into a waiting cascade of moonbeams that cushioned and slowed Bruce's momentum with a scent of jasmine.
Bruce smiled, then - the kind of smile that J'onn imagined would be his if the child Bruce had been at six had lived a life sans bullets and become a man under the tutelage of loving parents. Bruce stretched out his arms invitingly, letting amber bassoon notes cradle his body.
J'onn returned the smile, pulling himself toward Bruce along the tether, diaphanous butterflies trailing in his wake. A corner of J'onn's mind sent a quelling note to the plelloch, distantly swirling in scarcely contained excitement, and then there were Bruce's arms and Bruce's lips, and J'onn felt hard pressed to maintain his wariness.
*bding*
The note was a shock, breaking though the pink clouds like sudden rain.
*Pla...*
Before J'onn could finish the thought, Bruce had swung over the hull and into the hatch. "Batman here."
J'onn followed, morphing into the black cowl just seconds before the viewscreen cleared.
"Sorry to bug you guys," Plasticman said. "But I've got STAR labs on the other line. That Pell-ouch creature has slowed way down, but it's still heading earthward, and...." Plas finished with an animated shiver.
"Understood."
J'onn slipped free a tentacle, reforming his most common face just out of screen range. "J'onn here." He leaned forward. "You may assure them that contact has been made, and that the plelloch will veer off soon..."
"If you say so, green-guy. But remember that downstairs has got..." Plas shifted again, this time into a cartoon rocket.
"A tendency to over anticipate." Bruce frowned. "Remind them that this is a JLA mission. There is no danger."
"I got it." Plasticman slumped back over the monitor chair. "And I'm... out".
A trail of emerald stars slid though the open hatch. "Veeeerrrr ooooffff?" The light whispered.
J'onn reached out, brushing a fine strand over the sparkles. "I am sorry, honored friend, but so it must be. As I said, the Terrans are fragile..."
"Noooot huuuurt!" The stars spun off sparks. *I did not hurt your mate!* The mental cry echoed more loudly. *It is HAPPY! We had FUN!*
Bruce leaned forward, resting his cheek on the stream of glitter. "We did have fun, and I thank you." Centering his thoughts, he strove to project the gratitude he truly felt, along with the denial that he knew would be there. "But even if you did my planet no harm, my people would be afraid. You would not want that."
The stars flowed into silver water, falling like tears over Bruce's skin.
The plelloch had understood.
J'onn slid back into his common form, then reached out to scoop the jeweled stream close to his chest.
"It is sad, friend, but so it must be," he said. "It will be half the turn of this system before the Terrans are strong enough to greet you."
Bruce reached out, running his fingertips over the quivering back. "On that day, we most certainly *will* welcome you back. It would be... good for us... to be your friend."
"OOOOKKKKKAAAYYYYY" The silver exploded, spinning into stars that circled around the two men before vanishing back out the hatch. *I will come back to play with your child.*
end part 7