“RESTORATION”

By

Andra Marie Mueller

 

 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: “Restoration” is very much an alternative universe story. While I have attempted to follow canon wherever possible, the nature of the story dictated that I take certain creative liberties with character and plot histories that have been established for “Batman” and to a lesser extent “Superman”.  All things Batman and Superman are the legal property of DC Comics and Warner Bros. 

 

This is the 3rd installment of a series that began in “Reunion” and “Resolutions”, which you will need to read (or have read) to follow this story. Many thanks to the readers who sent feedback on the first two stories and were so receptive of Jordan.  A special thanks and big hug to my Beta Reader, who wishes to remain anonymous, but she knows who she is.

 

 

"Happiness is not the absence of conflict, but the ability to cope with it."-Anonymous

 

 

 

PROLOGUE: ASHTON INDUSTRIES, LONDON, ENGLAND

 

Inside his private office, Nicholas Ryan Ashton – 16th Duke of Wynmore and CEO of Ashton Industries – was reviewing his correspondence with his assistant and valet, Robert.  It was a tedious task, but a necessary one to keep Ashton organized and up to date on all matters personal and professional.

 

“Where do we stand on the merger talks with Wayne Enterprises?” Ashton inquired.

 

“The CFO of the London office is still awaiting a reply from the American CEO Lucius Fox,” Robert answered.  “It’s my understanding that Fox has been waiting to present the proposal to Bruce Wayne before replying.”

 

“Do we know why he hasn’t all ready presented it to him?” Ashton asked.

 

“Apparently Mister Wayne has been out of the country for a few days with his wife,” Robert explained. “He returned to the States yesterday so hopefully we should have an answer by the end of the week.”

 

Ashton sighed.  A handsome man of fifty, his olive skin and graying hair accentuated his dark blue eyes.  The sole heir of a prestigious and wealthy British royal family, he had inherited the family business and established himself as a fair but powerful businessman throughout the United Kingdom.

 

“Patience was never my strong suit, Robert,” Ashton replied.  “I’ve got some personal business to attend to in America so I might as well pay a visit to Mister Fox myself while I’m there.”

 

“Personal business, your grace?” Robert prompted.

 

“I’ve reached the magic age of fifty, Robert,” Ashton pointed out. “According to my mother’s will that means I have to name an heir within a year or the Ashton family holdings will be delegated to various outside entities upon my death.”

 

“I’m aware of that stipulation, your grace, but I am missing the connection to the United States.”

 

“I have a child, Robert,” Ashton revealed. “Or rather I fathered a child, one whose mother was a young American girl.  If the child lived, he or she is living in the United States.”

 

Robert was just barely able to conceal his surprise.  At forty-five he was entering his 20th year as the Duke’s valet and aside from their professional relationship, was also the other man’s close friend and confidante. Although Ashton had been married briefly, his wife’s untimely death from cancer had left him childless. Robert also knew that his employer had always exercised discretion and caution in his personal affairs, so the knowledge that he had apparently fathered an illegitimate child was something of a shock.

 

“I see. If I may ask, your grace, when did this happen? I am having trouble recalling any involvement you had with an American.”

 

“That’s because I was only 16 at the time, as was the young lady.  She was an American schoolgirl on summer vacation and we became involved, albeit briefly.  Three months later my mother received notification that the young girl was pregnant and insisting that I was the father.”

 

“I can only imagine how Lady Ashton reacted to that,” Robert mused.

 

“Well considering that I was also conceived out of wedlock, she was less judgmental than you might expect, but she was not pleased.  When she confronted me, I panicked.  Due to the timing, I was fairly certain that I was the father, but I was too young and too scared to do the ‘right thing’ by admitting it, so I lied.  Mother believed me and dismissed the girl’s parents as being after our money.  We never heard from them again, and I have no idea what became of the child.”

 

“A child that is now an adult with possibly no knowledge of you,” Robert added.

 

“A situation I intend to rectify once I am in America,” Ashton responded. 

 

 

 

 

GOTHAM CITY

 

Seated at the table in the dining room of Wayne Manor, Bruce took a final sip of his coffee as Alfred cleared the breakfast dishes from the table. Noticeably absent was his wife Jordan, who had risen early to take her dog for a run before eating her own breakfast and preparing for work.  As Director of Wayne Conservation International’s PEACE Corporation, she was currently serving as the pro tem director of the Gotham City Zoo, overseeing the care of the animals that had been temporarily relocated while their habitats were undergoing reconstruction.  The couple had just returned from a five day vacation in Fiji to celebrate their first wedding anniversary and both were anxious to return to work.

 

“Shall I bring the car around, Master Bruce?” Alfred inquired. “Or will Miss Jordan be working at the office today?”

 

“Jordan will be at the zoo today, Alfred,” Bruce told him.  “She’ll be taking her own car.”

 

“One can only hope she’ll be taking that beast she calls a dog with her,” Alfred replied.

 

Bruce smiled at his friend’s remark.  An engagement gift from Bruce as a puppy, Jordan’s dog Hero was a coal black Great Dane that weighed in at just under 200 pounds despite being barely a year and a half old.  Although Jordan had trained him well and Hero was a model of obedience, some of his puppyhood antics had wreaked havoc on Alfred’s ability to maintain order in the Wayne household and the older man still held a grudge.

 

“You’re welcome to suggest it to her,” Bruce said.  “Although I don’t think she’s entirely forgotten your request that he be kept in the stables with the other horses.”

 

“With all due respect, sir, the horses did not go through a half dozen Persian carpets, an equal number of your shoes, two custom made sofas and one unfortunate frozen turkey,” Alfred countered.

 

Jordan chose that moment to make her appearance, dressed in safari type clothes and shadowed by the dog under discussion.

 

“Are you maligning Hero again, Alfred?” she asked rhetorically, exchanging a brief kiss with Bruce before settling herself into a chair beside him.

 

“I have nothing but the highest regard for such a fine creature, Miss Jordan,” Alfred answered with mock seriousness.

 

“That’s good, Alfred. I almost believed you that time.”

 

“Would you care for some breakfast?” Alfred asked.

 

“Just some tea would be fine, thank you.”

 

Alfred retreated into the kitchen to get the tea as Bruce addressed his wife. 

 

“So what is on your agenda today, Dr. Wayne?”

 

“Lions and tigers and bears, oh my,” Jordan responded wryly.

 

“Very funny, Princess.”

 

“I’m entirely serious.  I’ve got Tara the lioness due to give birth any minute, Samara the tigress is due sometime in the next couple of weeks and we have to relocate a pair of grizzlies so the construction crew can start revamping their enclosure.”

 

“Sounds more like an episode of ‘Wild Kingdom’ than a day at the office,” Bruce remarked.

 

“I’d rather deal with dangerous animals wearing fur coats than three piece suits,” Jordan responded.  “Present company excluded, of course.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Alfred rejoined them then and began pouring Jordan’s tea as she continued her conversation with Bruce.

 

“So while I’m playing Sheena over at the zoo, what kind of exciting corporate mogul type things are you going to be doing?” she asked.

 

“Lucius has asked me to review some paperwork from our London office,” Bruce answered.  “There’s a proposal from the U.K.’s largest import-export company to merge with our shipping division to expand their reach into the international market. The company’s called Ashton Industries and is run by a man named Nicholas Ashton who also happens to be a Duke.”

 

Upon hearing the name of the company’s CEO, Alfred froze on his way back into the kitchen and turned to face Bruce and Jordan.

 

“Did you say Nicholas Ashton, sir?” he queried.

 

“Yes. Do you know him?”

 

“I knew his family many years ago before I came to the States,” Alfred said.  “My father served his grandfather before coming here to work for your parents.”

 

“Small world,” Jordan remarked.

 

“Indeed. I’ll get the car, Master Bruce.”

 

Alfred excused himself and beat a hasty retreat from the room.  Once he was gone, Jordan and Bruce exchanged curious looks.

 

“What was that all about?” Jordan wondered aloud.

 

“I have no idea,” Bruce replied, “but there’s definitely more to the connection between Alfred and the Ashton family than he’s letting on.”

 

“Maybe you should ask him about it,” Jordan suggested.  “Or at least get some more information on the Ashtons.”

 

“Just drink your tea, Sheena, and leave the sleuthing to me.”

 

Their banter was interrupted by the ring of Jordan’s cell phone and she pulled it from her pocket.

 

“Jordan Wayne.”

 

There was a pause as she listened to whomever was on the other line speak and then she said, “Are you sure?”

 

Another pause, this one longer.

 

“All right then. I’ll call the office next week to set up an appointment for a complete exam. Thank you for calling.”

 

Jordan ended the call and replaced the phone in her pocket, an expression somewhere between surprise and confusion evident on her face.

 

“Jordan?” Bruce prompted.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Who was on the phone?”

 

“Oh...that was Dr. Talbot’s office. The results are back from the blood test I took before we left and apparently I’m pregnant.”

 

Bruce’s dark eyes widened in surprise. “Pregnant?” he echoed incredulously.

 

“Between five and six weeks they think,” Jordan said and as the reality of her condition finally dawned on her, she flashed Bruce a delighted smile.  “Looks like we’re having a baby, Handsome.”

 

Bruce reached over to cup her face in his hands and give her a hearty kiss.

 

 

 

WAYNE TOWER

 

Two days later, Bruce was in his office reviewing a file on Nicholas Ashton.  Alfred’s odd behavior at the mention of the other man’s name had prompted Bruce to uncover what information he could about the Duke.  As he scanned the file before him, he could not find anything out of the ordinary that would explain Alfred’s reaction, nor was there any obvious connection between the two aside from what his friend had all ready told him.

 

ASHTON, NICHOLAS RYAN

Duke of Wynmore, Earl of Yardley, Viscount Bale, Viscount Hargrove, Baron Routh

DOB: March 2, 1958

Widowed; no children.

The only child of Lady Elizabeth Ashton, herself the only child of William Ashton, 15th Duke of Wynmore.  Father unknown; he and Lady Ashton divorced shortly after their son’s birth and the Ashton family retained full custody.

Holds a B.A. (Honors) in Economics and Management from Oxford University.

Currently serves as CEO of Ashton Industries, the leading import-export company in the United Kingdom.

 

 

Finishing his read through of Ashton’s personal file, Bruce began to scan the file on Ashton Industries, which under its current CEO had increased its yearly profit by an average of two to five percent per year over the last ten years.

 

“Obviously he knows what he’s doing with his company,” he mused aloud.

 

His thoughts were interrupted when the door opened to admit Jordan, dressed in a business suit in lieu of the casual clothes she usually wore to the zoo and looking every inch the responsible businesswoman.

 

“Hi, Handsome,” she greeted cheerfully.  “Are you ready for lunch?”

 

Bruce glanced at his watch. “Is it that time all ready?” he asked rhetorically.  “I’ve been in and out of meetings all morning and obviously lost track of the time.”

 

Jordan glanced at the file on his desk and noticed the name on the front.  “I see you’ve started your sleuthing,” she remarked.  “Uncover anything interesting?”

 

“By all accounts Nicholas Ashton is a well-respected businessman throughout England,” Bruce told her.  “Nothing I’ve read so far would explain why the mention of his name rattled Alfred’s cage.”

 

“Why don’t you just ask Alfred?”

 

“When Alfred is ready to talk to me, he will.  In any event, I needed to check into Ashton Industries anyway to make a decision about the merger, so I am killing two birds with one stone.”

 

“Have I mentioned how much I dislike that analogy?”

 

“I’m sure you do,” Bruce allowed.  “How are you feeling?”

 

“Fine so far,” Jordan answered.  “No twinges of morning sickness or odd food cravings, at least not yet.”

 

“When do want to tell Clark and Martha about the pregnancy?”

 

“Well Mom and Ben are in Arizona visiting his daughter and her family so I won’t be able to tell them until next week,” Jordan said.  “But I thought we could call Lois and Clark tonight before you go out.”

 

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

The couple exited Bruce’s office and were heading for the elevator when they crossed paths with Lucius Fox and a man they did not recognize, who promptly did a double take at the sight of Jordan.

 

Good Lord she is a stunning woman, he observed.

 

Jordan was the first to acknowledge them, gracing the stranger with a friendly smile before shifting her attention to Lucius.

 

“Hello, Lucius.”

 

“Dr. Wayne,” Fox returned.  “I hope you’re stealing your husband away from here so he’ll actually take lunch for a change.”

 

“That is my plan.” 

 

“I don’t believe we’ve met your associate,” Bruce said pointedly to Fox.

 

Fox quickly made the introductions.  “Mister Wayne, Dr. Wayne, this is Robert Billings, Nicholas Ashton’s personal assistant. Mr. Billings, this is the owner of Wayne Enterprises, Bruce Wayne, and his wife Dr. Jordan Wayne.”

 

“Good to meet you, Mr. Billings,” Bruce said as they exchanged a handshake.  “Ashton Industries has a sterling reputation, as does Nicholas Ashton.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne,” Billings responded. “His Grace will be pleased to hear you say so.”

 

“Is he here with you?”

 

“No, the Duke is at his hotel attending to some personal business,” Billings replied.  “However, as long as I’ve run into you, perhaps we could arrange a meeting at your mutual convenience.”

 

“That would be fine,” Bruce agreed.  “My wife and I are on our way out, but my assistant Jessica will be able to help you schedule that meeting.”

 

“Of course.” He glanced at Jordan.  “Forgive me if this sounds forward, Dr. Wayne, but have I seen you somewhere before? You look vaguely familiar.”

 

“I’m in the news from time to time due to my work as the Director of the PEACE Corporation,” Jordan allowed. 

 

“That must be it then,” Billings demurred.

 

Bidding the men farewell, Jordan and Bruce made their way to the elevator. Once they were gone, Billings addressed Fox.

 

“Quite a striking couple,” he remarked. 

 

“Yes they are,” Fox concurred.  “Come with me, Mr. Billings, and I will introduce you to Mr. Wayne’s assistant so you can schedule the meeting with him and Lord Ashton.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Lucius headed down the hall and after a final, thoughtful glance toward the elevator Billings followed after him.

 

 

 

 

GOTHAM CITY HYATT HOTEL

 

Inside his hotel suite, Ashton was reviewing the most recent correspondence from his mother’s former majordomo Winston Francis. He had enlisted the older man’s assistance in trying to track down the contact information for the family of the American girl he believed had carried his child.

 

 

Your Grace –

 

I must admit I was surprised to receive your missive inquiring about any information your mother may have retained regarding the young lady from America who insisted that you were the father of her unborn child.  Although at the time Her Grace was convinced that the girl’s family was merely attempting to extort money, there must have been a part of her that believed their claim, because she did indeed keep their information.

 

I have no way of knowing where they are now or what became of the child, but according the letters Her Grace received their surname was Barrett and they lived in the state of Nebraska in the mid-western United States. The father’s name was Earl and the young lady you allegedly impregnated was his daughter Joy. Unfortunately I have no other information beyond that.

 

If I may be of further assistance, please do not hesitate to contact me. In the meantime, I hope this finds you well.

 

Most Sincerely Yours,

 

Winston Francis

 

 

Finishing the letter, Ashton set it on the table in front of him as he spoke aloud to the empty room.

 

“Now I at least have a name to go with the face,” he said.

 

A knock at the door interrupted his musings and at his invitation to enter, Billings walked into the suite.

 

“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” he greeted.

 

“Good afternoon, Robert,” Ashton echoed.  “How did your meeting go with Mr. Fox?”

 

“Very well. He was very receptive to what I had to say.”

 

“What about the man himself, Bruce Wayne?”

 

“I did manage to meet him, albeit by accident,” Billings revealed.  “Mr. Fox and I crossed paths with Mr. Wayne and his wife when they were leaving for lunch.”

 

“What did you think?”

 

“Well Mr. Wayne was a bit frosty, but it’s his wife who should come with a warning label.”

 

“That bad?” Ashton prompted.

 

“Oh she was pleasant enough,” Billings countered.  “But if there is a more beautiful woman walking the face of the Earth, I have yet to see her.”

 

“Having seen her briefly from afar when she was in London a few years back I have to agree,” Ashton replied.  “And given her reputation through her conservation work, she apparently has the brains to match her beauty.”

 

“She seemed vaguely familiar somehow, but I can’t put my finger on who it is she reminds me of,” Billings said.  “Anyway, I also managed to set up a meeting for you with Mr. Wayne for Friday afternoon.”

 

“Excellent work, Robert.”

 

“How did you do, your grace?” Billings asked.  “Any luck with Mr. Francis?”

 

“A bit,” Ashton allowed.  “It seems that my mother wasn’t entirely convinced that the young lady was lying and she kept the contact information for her family, or at least what there was of it.”

 

Ashton handed him the letter from Winston and Billings quickly read it before addressing the Duke.

 

“I’ll begin making inquiries immediately,” he said.  “Do you recall anything about the young lady?”

 

“I can tell you that Joy Barrett was a pretty blonde girl with a lovely American accent and a fondness for animals,” Ashton told him.  “As a gentleman I will refrain from sharing any memories beyond that.”

 

“Of course, your grace.”

 

 

 

 

METROPOLIS

 

Inside the house he shared with Lois and Jason, Clark was feeding the family pets – a tabby kitten Jason had named Flyer and a Labrador puppy he had dubbed Rocket – when the telephone rang.

 

“I’ll get it,” Lois said and crossed over to retrieve the wall phone.  “Hello?”

 

“Hi, Lois. It’s Jordan.”

 

“Hi, Jordan.  How are you?”

 

“I’m good, thanks. How is everybody over there?”

 

“Everything here is status quo,” Lois said.  “Clark is feeding the animals but I’ll let him know you’re on the phone.”

 

“Animals?” Jordan echoed.  “I thought you guys only got one puppy.”

 

“We did, but when we were leaving the animal shelter Jason spotted a kitten that had just been put up for adoption and Clark caved.”

 

“He’s such a sap,” Jordan replied fondly.  “We should start calling him the ‘Man of Mush’.”

 

“I’ll let you tell him that,” Lois responded.  “Give my best to Bruce.”

 

“Will do.”

 

There was a pause as Jordan heard Lois call to Clark and a moment later his voice came over the line.

 

“Hey, little sister.”

 

“Hey yourself. Lois tells me that Jason suckered you into getting him a kitten to go with his puppy.”

 

“Some of us prefer various small creatures as opposed to a single pet large enough to ride in a Christmas parade,” Clark countered lightly.

 

“You sound like Alfred,” Jordan said.  “He keeps hoping Hero will somehow shrink in the wash the next time I bathe him.”

 

“So how was Fiji?”

 

“Fiji was wonderful. It was really good to spend some quality time with Bruce away from all of the every day distractions.”

 

“Yeah. I think Lois and I are overdue for some quality time alone ourselves.”

 

“Well if you two need to take a vacation, Bruce and I will be happy to watch Jason,” Jordan offered.  “We’ll need the practice.”

 

“Practice?’ Clark echoed. “What do you…oh my gosh…are you pregnant?”

 

“I am,” Jordan confirmed and in the background she heard Lois exclaim, “Oh my gosh, Jordan’s pregnant?”

 

“That’s great news, Jordan,” Clark declared, joy for his sister evident in his tone. “I am really happy for you and Bruce.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Does Mom know yet?”

 

“No. I’m waiting to tell her and Ben when they get back from Arizona.”

 

“She’s going to be thrilled.  If you need anything, please make sure you call me. Lois and I will help you guys any way we can.”

 

“I appreciate that. And I meant what I said about watching Jason.  If you guys can manage some time away, just bring Jason and the critters here and we’ll all keep an eye on them.”

 

“I’ll talk to Lois and let you know. Take care, Jordan, and give my best wishes to Bruce.”

 

“Will do. Bye, Clark.”

 

“Bye, Jordan.”

 

Clark hung up the phone and turned to face Lois. “Well it looks like Jason is going to have a cousin,” he said happily.  “My baby sister is having a baby. Wow.”

 

“I am so excited for them,” Lois replied.  “Jordan is going to make a great mother.”

 

Something in her tone struck Clark as odd and he gave her a concerned look. “Are you really okay with her being pregnant?”

 

Lois smiled at his worried expression. “Clark, its fine,” she assured him and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “You and I still haven’t made a final decision one way or another about having another child, so maybe helping Jordan with her pregnancy will help us decide.”

 

“Maybe it will. I love you, Lois.”

 

“I love you too, Clark.”

 

 

 

 

LINCOLN, NEBRASKA

 

Inside the home he shared with his wife and two teenaged children, attorney James Barrett was reviewing some case files when the door bell rang.  The family dog – a collie named Lady – immediately broke into a cacophony of barking and Barrett issued a curt “Lady, down!” as he made his way through the house to the front door.  A man he did not recognize stood on his doorstep, dressed in a business suit and looking very solemn.

 

“May I help you?” Barrett asked.

 

“I hope so,” the other man responded and withdrew a business card that he handed to Barrett.  “My name is Robert Billings and I am here of behalf of my employer Nicholas Ashton, the Duke of Wynmore.”

 

“The name sounds vaguely familiar,” Barrett allowed. “What can I do for you?”

 

“I have some rather delicate personal business to discuss with you, so perhaps it would be best if I came inside.”

 

“You can say whatever you came to say right here,” Barrett responded. “Nothing personal, but I’m not in the habit of inviting strangers into my house.”

 

“Of course,” Billings demurred.  “It is my understanding that your father’s name is Earl, and that you have a younger sister, Joy. Is that correct?”

 

“Well those were their names but they’re both dead,” Barrett revealed.  “What is this about?”

 

“In the fall of 1973 your sister returned from a trip to England and discovered she was pregnant,” Billings said.  “We have reason to believe that Lord Ashton was the father.”

 

Barrett’s eyes widened at the revelation and anger settled in his features.  “So the son of bitch gets my sister pregnant and waits almost 35 years to own up to it,” he snapped.  “My sister died giving birth to your employer’s bastard child.  I don’t know what the hell you wanted from her now but obviously you’re not going to get it.”

 

“I am sincerely sorry for your loss, Mr. Barrett,” Billings replied evenly.  “However I am not here to debate His Grace’s moral choices then or now.   I am here in the hope that you can tell me if the child your sister bore survived, and if so where he or she might be now.”

 

“Frankly Mr. Billings that’s none of your damn business,” Barrett retorted.  “’His Grace’ should have been showing all of this concern 34 years ago when Joy gave her life for a baby he never acknowledged.”

 

“I take that to mean that you won’t provide me with the information I am requesting,” Billings replied.

 

Barrett paused a moment before asking, “What do you want the information for?”

 

“I’m not at liberty to disclose that information,” Billings evaded. “However I can assure you that it would be mutually beneficial to both the Duke and the child – person – in question for you to assist me with this matter.”

 

Barrett snorted.  “I’m sure,” came the sarcastic reply.  “Well Joy and my folks are dead so it certainly can’t hurt them to tell you.  I don’t know what gender the baby was or what happened to it, but it did survive. My folks didn’t have enough money at the time to hire someone to formally put the baby up for adoption and they didn’t want anybody around here to know what happened to my sister. They took Joy to some clinic in Kansas and she had the baby there. Unfortunately the facilities were less than state of the art and my sister died during delivery. By the time they brought her body back for the burial, my parents had given the baby away.”

 

“They didn’t keep the child and raise it themselves?” Billings prompted.

 

“As far as they were concerned that baby was nothing more than the reason Joy was dead,” Barrett responded.  “And after your ‘Duke’ denied being the father, any chance of receiving financial support to even attempt to keep the child was lost. My parents didn’t even have enough money to give my sister a proper funeral, let alone take care of her illegitimate child.”

 

“Do you perhaps have a record of the name of the clinic your sister was taken to, or remember what city it was located in?”

 

“I’ve all ready given you more information than you deserve,” Barrett answered.  “You and your precious Duke can figure out the rest on your own. And you can tell him from me that I hope his royal ass rots in hell for what he did to my sister!”

 

On that note, Barrett slammed the door in Billings face and the Englishman released a heavy sigh as he retreated back to his rental car.  Once inside, he retrieved his cellular phone and called Ashton.

 

“Ashton.”

 

“Your Grace, it’s Robert.”

 

“Robert…where are you?” Ashton asked.

 

“I am in Nebraska, outside the home of James Barrett,” Billings told him.  “He is indeed the brother of Joy Barrett.”

 

“What did he tell you?”

 

“It seems that young Miss Barrett tragically died in childbirth, but the infant did survive and was given away by Joy’s parents shortly after its birth.”

 

“Given to whom?” Ashton pressed.

 

“That appears to be the million pound question,” Billings responded.  “Apparently the Barretts were financially unable and emotionally unwilling to care for the child and did not hire an attorney to ensure that the child was formally adopted.  The only information James Barrett was able to provide to me was that his sister was taken to a clinic in Kansas to give birth and that her parents disposed of the child sometime between her death and their return home a few days later.”

 

“Bloody marvelous,” Ashton muttered.  “Well there can’t have been too many ‘clinics’ in that area thirty something years ago that would have been accessible for them. Do what you can to try and retrace the possible travel routes they could have taken and make a list of those medical facilities that were in existence during the time in question.  One of them must have some sort of record of Joy Barrett’s death that would give us a better idea of where her parents may have taken the child.”

 

“I’ll get right on it,” Billings replied.  “Have you had your meeting with Mr. Wayne yet?”

 

“I’m en route to his office as we speak,” Ashton answered.  “Keep me posted on your progress, Robert.”

 

“Of course, your grace.”

 

 

 

 

WAYNE ENTERPRISES

 

In his office, Bruce was taking a final look at the merger proposal from Ashton Industries as he awaited the arrival of Nicholas Ashton.  With him was Lucius Fox, who had all ready read the proposal and given Bruce his approval.

 

“Will the addition of Ashton Industries to our UK division result in any loss of employment for the existing employees of either company?” Bruce asked.

 

“No, sir,” Fox answered.  “It will actually create the opportunity to increase the workforce by about ten percent and the additional shipping venues within the division should increase the yearly profit by fifteen to twenty percent.”

 

“Sounds like a win-win situation for all parties,” Bruce remarked.  “You’ve spoken with Ashton on the phone and have spent a good deal of time with his assistant, that Billings fellow. What do you make of them?”

 

Fox shrugged.  “Ashton was rather cool on the phone,” he said.  “Although British royalty isn’t the jolliest group of people to begin with. As for Billings, he’s just a glorified hired hand. I don’t think he has any inclination to get involved in the actual business end of Ashton’s corporation. He just gets the doors opened for the Duke and let’s the man himself do the real work.”

 

“Not everyone can have someone as efficient and hardworking as you to run their companies for them, Lucius,” Bruce teased.

 

“I serve at your pleasure and discretion, Mister Wayne,” Fox demurred.

 

“That was very well said, Lucius. Has Alfred been giving you lessons in diplomacy?”

 

“I’ll take the Fifth on that, sir.”

 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Bruce responded dryly.  “Speaking of our friend Mr. Billings was it my own overly possessive imagination or was he more than casually interested in my wife?”

 

“He did seem anxious to determine where he’d seen her before,” Fox allowed.  “Despite Dr. Wayne’s assumption that he had seen her in the news, I got the feeling it was something else.”

 

“So did I.  I’ll have to look into that once I finish my official business with the good Duke.”

 

As if on cue, Bruce’s secretary Jessica buzzed him on the intercom to announce that Ashton had arrived.

 

“Excuse me, Mr. Wayne, but the Duke of Wynmore is here,” she told him.

 

“Thank you, Jessica. Please show him in.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

The men rose to their feet as Jessica escorted Ashton into Bruce’s office.

 

“May I get any of you gentlemen some water or a cup of coffee?” Jessica inquired.

 

They all declined and Jessica excused herself to return to her desk. Focusing his attention on Bruce, Ashton smiled in greeting as he extended his hand.

 

“Mr. Wayne, it’s good to finally meet you,” he said as they exchanged a handshake.  “My assistant was most impressed with Mr. Fox and your company.”

 

Not as impressed as he was with my wife, Bruce thought drolly. Aloud he replied, “Thank you, your grace.  As I told Mr. Billings the other day, I too was impressed with your company’s reputation as well as your own. You’ve made quite a name for yourself over in England.”

 

“I appreciate you saying so.”

 

“This is my CEO, Lucius Fox.”

 

“Yes, we’ve spoken on the phone,” Ashton recalled and exchanged a handshake with Fox.  “I appreciate the courtesy you’ve extended to my assistant.  He says you’ve been very helpful.”

 

“All part of the service,” Fox replied.  “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have some other business to attend to.”

 

Fox exited Bruce’s office and the other men settled themselves in their respective chairs before getting down to business.

 

“I’ve reviewed the merger proposal you submitted to my London division and after discussing it with Mr. Fox, I have decided to accept it.”

 

Ashton’s eyes widened in surprise.  “Just like that?” he prompted.

 

“We’re both busy men, your grace.  I see no reason to drag this out any longer than necessary if the proposed action would be mutually beneficial to Ashton Industries and Wayne Enterprises. From what I have read that certainly appears to be the case.”

 

Just then Jessica buzzed Bruce again.  “I apologize for interrupting again, Mr. Wayne, but Mr. Pennyworth is on the line and he says its urgent,” she said.

 

Surprise flickered across Ashton’s face at the mention of Alfred’s surname but he quickly covered it as Bruce offered a brief  “Excuse me” before picking up the phone.

 

“Alfred, what’s wrong?”

 

“It’s Miss Jordan, sir. There’s been an accident at the zoo and she was taken to Gotham Memorial Hospital.”

 

A trickle of fear rippled down Bruce’s spine like ice water. “I’ll meet you there.”

 

Hanging up the phone, he started for the door as he spoke to Ashton.

 

“We’ll have to continue this later, your grace. My wife’s been hurt and I have to get to the hospital.”

 

“Of course. I hope she’s all right.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Bruce bolted out the door, leaving Ashton alone in his office.

 

“Pennyworth,” Ashton said aloud to the empty room. “That can’t be a coincidence.”

 

Releasing a sigh, Ashton exited Bruce’s office.

 

 

 

 

GOTHAM MEMORIAL HOSPITAL

 

Arriving at the emergency room, Bruce immediately approached the admittance desk.

 

“My name is Bruce Wayne,” he told he duty nurse. “My wife Jordan was brought in by ambulance a short while ago.”

 

“Mister Wayne…” a voice prompted from behind him.

 

Bruce turned around to see a man about his own age dressed in surgical scrubs and standing a few feet away.

 

“I’m Doctor Casey, the ER’s attending physician.”

 

“How’s Jordan?”

 

“Right now your wife is resting comfortably in one of the exam rooms,” Casey said. “Her father is with her.”

 

Bruce instinctively realized that Casey must be referring to Alfred, who had presumably claimed to be Jordan’s father so the medical staff would let him stay with her.

 

“How’s the baby?” Bruce pressed.

 

Casey’s expression changed to grave sympathy. “I’m sorry to tell you that Dr. Wayne has suffered a miscarriage,” he answered evenly.

 

Bruce closed his eyes in silent agony as pain lanced through his heart, and Casey allowed him a moment to absorb the news before continuing.

 

“The miscarriage was actually not related to the accident. Dr. Wayne experienced what is called a ‘chemical pregnancy’. That means that although the hormone levels in her blood would have registered as a positive pregnancy, the fetus died immediately after conception. A miscarriage would have occurred in any event within six to eight weeks.”

 

“Is there any permanent damage?” Bruce asked.

 

“None at all,” Casey assured him. “Chemical pregnancies are unfortunately rather common for first time pregnancies, but very rarely have any lasting effects. Your wife should have no trouble conceiving again and carrying the baby to term.”

 

“What happened to Jordan?”

 

“I don’t know the exact details, but apparently Dr. Wayne had a run in with one of the bears at the zoo,” Casey revealed.  “Luckily none of the injuries were life threatening and no bones were broken.  There were a few gashes that required sutures and she’ll be sore for a few days, but your wife should be as good as new in a week or so.”

 

“I need to see her.”

 

“Of course. Come with me.”

 

Casey led Bruce down the hall to a small room near the end and they stepped inside.  Jordan was sleeping peacefully, an IV leading into one arm and some minor scratches adorning her face. Alfred was seated beside in chair beside the bed keeping vigil and rose to his feet when the other men entered.

 

“Master Bruce,” he greeted simply.

 

“Alfred.”

 

Casey retrieved a small bottle from his pocket. “Here are some antibiotics for your wife,” he said. “She’ll need to take two pills once a day for a week to ensure the gashes on her back don’t become infected.”

 

“How soon can I take her home?” Bruce inquired.

 

“I gave her a mild sedative to ease the pain so you can take her home any time,” Casey replied.  “We had to dispose of her clothing so I’ll have one of the nurses bring you some scrubs she can wear home.”

 

“Thank you, Doctor.”

 

Casey left the room and Alfred waited until he was gone before speaking.  “I am so very sorry for your loss, Master Bruce,” he said, sorrow evident in his tone.

 

“I know, Alfred. Thank you. Does Jordan know about the miscarriage?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Bruce nodded in acknowledgement just as a nurse entered and placed a set of scrubs on the chair by the door.

 

“I’ll go fetch the car,” Alfred said.

 

The older man made a discreet exit as Bruce assumed his seat by Jordan’s bedside and gently brushed a stray hair from her forehead.  She must have subconsciously sensed his presence, as she chose that moment to stir, blinking sleepily a few times before focusing her gaze on Bruce.

“The baby…” she said shakily, her eyes welling with tears.

 

Bruce felt his own eyes well as he took Jordan in his arms. 

 

“I know, Princess. I know.”

 

 

 

 

METROPOLIS

 

Clark was seated at his computer working on a story when he heard his cell phone ring.  Reaching down into his briefcase, he pulled out the phone.

 

“Clark Kent.”

 

“Hello, Clark,” a male voice greeted.  “This is Sheriff Taylor here in Smallville.”

 

“Sheriff Taylor…it’s been a while.”

 

“Yep. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve seen you since that pretty little sister of yours graduated from high school.  That’s almost 20 years ago now.”

 

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?”

 

“Well I was trying to get in touch with your mother,” Taylor said, “but I don’t know how to reach her in Montana. She gave me this number for emergencies, though, so I decided to give you a call.”

 

“That’s fine. How may I help you?”

 

“I’m calling because I wanted to give Martha a heads up that some English fellow was nosing around town the other day fishing for information on your sister.”

 

Clark frowned.  “Did he give his name?”

 

“Yeah…he gave me some fancy business card…hang on.”

 

Clark waited in patient silence as Taylor searched for the card and a moment later the older man came back on the line.

 

“Here we go,” he said.  “The fellow’s name was Robert J. Billings, ‘Personal and Professional Attaché to His Grace, Nicholas Ryan Ashton, the Duke of Wynmore’.”

 

Clark instantly recognized Ashton’s name, having seen the press coverage of his business dealings with Bruce.

 

“What kind of information about Jordan was Mr. Billings asking for?” he queried.

 

“Well he wasn’t asking about Jordan specifically,” Taylor replied.  “It was more general questions about whether or not anybody around here knew about a baby that may have been abandoned in this area about 34 years ago.”

 

That would be Jordan, Clark mused silently. Aloud he asked, “Do you know if anyone told him anything?”

 

“Of course not, Clark,” the sheriff chided.  “We watch out for our own here.  That’s why I wanted to let you mother know what’s going on.”

 

“I appreciate you taking the time to fill me in, Sheriff,” Clark responded.

 

“Glad to help. What do you suppose these English fellows want with your sister, anyway?”

 

“I don’t know, but I guarantee you I will find out.  Good-bye, Sheriff.”

 

Clark ended the call and replaced the phone in his briefcase just as Lois appeared beside him.

 

“Hi, Clark,” she greeted.  “Feel like taking a lunch break?”

 

“Actually I need a favor,” Clark countered and rose to his feet.  “Could you please finish our story on the teacher’s union meeting? I need to go see Bruce and Jordan.”

 

“What’s going on with Bruce and your sister?” Lois asked.

 

“I’ll explain it to you when I get back.”

 

Pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, Clark headed out of the office to change.

 

 

 

 

WAYNE MANOR

 

Four days after her accident, Jordan was seated on one of the back terraces, sipping at a glass of lemonade as she watched Hero chase the birds and squirrels she was trying to feed bread crumbs to.

 

“You’re not helping, Hero,” she admonished.

 

“Maybe you should follow Alfred’s suggestion and put him in the stables with the other horses,” Bruce replied wryly from behind her.

 

Jordan gave Bruce an admonishing glance as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head before settling into a chair beside her.  “Don’t you start,” she said.

 

“Princess, even you have to admit that Hero would be easier to handle if he were smaller than a compact car.”

 

“Sorry, Handsome, but size does matter when it comes to dogs,” Jordan returned.

 

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked.

 

“Physically I’m fine,” she answered.  “The gashes on my back aren’t bothering me anymore and the muscle soreness has lessened as well.”

 

“What about emotionally?” Bruce prompted gently.

 

Jordan sighed.  “Emotionally I’m not doing quite so well,” she conceded.  “One minute I’m overwhelmed with grief and the next I’m so angry at myself I could scream.”

 

“Why would you be angry at yourself?”

 

“For allowing myself to get distracted while I was working with the mother grizzly and get attacked.”

 

“The attack merely initiated a miscarriage that was inevitable to begin with, Jordan. You’re not responsible for losing our baby.”

 

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.  I wanted this baby so much, Bruce. I fee like I’ve failed you somehow.”

 

Her voice cracked and Jordan took a deep breath to compose herself as she wiped away a tear trickling down her cheek. Giving her a warm smile, Bruce reached over and took her other hand in his.

 

“You haven’t failed me, Jordan,” he assured her. “This was sad and frustrating, but we will get through it and I have no doubt that when the time is right we will have a beautiful baby.”

 

“What if we can’t?” Jordan countered.

 

“Dr. Casey told us there was no permanent damage.”

 

“I’m not referring to any aftereffects of the miscarriage.  I’m worried that there may be some genetic history I’m not aware of that will interfere with or prevent me from being able to bear your children.”

 

“If you’re truly concerned about that, than once you’re feeling better we can find the best specialist in the country to examine you and determine if there are any genetic issues that would cause problems for conception and/or carrying the baby to term. And if that turns out to be the case, we can adopt as many children as you want.”

 

“You wouldn’t have a problem with not having a child that is yours biologically?” Jordan pressed.

 

“None at all. After all, my own wife and brother-in-law are both adopted and look how well they turned out.”

 

The declaration earned him a faint smile.  “Well one out of two anyway,” Jordan responded.  “I think I’m still a work in progress.”

 

“I love you just the way you are,” Bruce told her.

 

“I love you, too.”

 

They exchanged a kiss just as Alfred came outside.  “Excuse the interruption, but the two of you have a visitor,” he announced.  “Miss Jordan’s brother is here to speak with you.”

 

Jordan and Bruce exchanged a curious look, wondering what could have prompted Clark’s visit as they had not yet told him about the miscarriage.

 

“Whatever he’s here to tell us can’t be good if he felt it necessary to say it in person,” Jordan remarked.

 

“There’s only one way to find out.”

 

Bruce stood up and helped to Jordan to her feet and the couple made their way inside, shadowed by Hero.  They found Clark waiting in the foyer and he flashed them a smile of greeting.

 

“Hey guys. How are my favorite parents-to-be?”

Jordan and Bruce exchanged another look and Bruce squeezed Jordan’s hand in silent comfort as she replied, “I was going to call you, Clark. I’m afraid I lost the baby.”

 

“Oh gosh, Jordan…I am so sorry,” Clark responded, regret and sympathy evident in his tone. 

 

He quickly stepped forward to embrace his sister in a reassuring hug and held her for a moment before stepping back to meet her gaze.

 

“What happened?”

 

“I was working at the zoo and got between a mother grizzly and her cubs,” Jordan explained.  “The resulting attack triggered a miscarriage, which according to the doctor would have happened eventually due to the nature of the pregnancy.”

 

“Are you all right?”

 

“As all right as I can be under the circumstances.”

 

“What are you doing here, Clark?” Bruce interjected.

 

“I need to talk to you about Nicholas Ashton,” Clark replied.  “How much do you know about him?”

 

“I researched his personal history when I received his business proposition,” Bruce answered, “but I didn’t find anything unusual. Why do you ask?”

 

“I received a phone call earlier today from the Sheriff in Smallville,” Clark said. “He was trying to track down my mother but didn’t know how to contact her in Montana.”

 

“What does he want with Mom?” Jordan inquired.  “She moved almost 18 months ago.”

 

Clark glanced at his sister. “Apparently Ashton’s attaché was in Smallville asking if anyone had information about a baby that may have been abandoned there 34 years ago,” he revealed.

 

Jordan’s eyes widened in surprise. “That can’t be a coincidence,” she said. “But I haven’t even met Ashton.”

 

“You have, however, met his attaché,” Bruce replied.  “Billings indicated that he thought he had seen you somewhere before almost immediately after meeting you.”

 

“That sounds like a very old pick-up line,” Clark commented.

 

“If I hadn’t been standing next to Jordan at the time I would agree,” Bruce allowed.

 

Jordan stifled a frustrated sigh. Men, she thought to herself. Aloud she said, “Whether Billings was stupid enough to hit on me in front of my husband or was genuinely convinced that he knew me doesn’t matter. I want to know why this Duke he works for is snooping around in my past.”

 

“I’d like to know that myself,” Bruce remarked. 

 

“I’ll second that,” Clark added.  “I have to assume that his interest in Jordan is somehow connected to your business dealings with him because she’s your wife, but I haven’t any idea what he’s looking for or why.”

 

“Maybe we should pay him a visit,” Jordan suggested.

 

“Maybe we won’t have to,” Bruce countered. “Excuse me a minute.”  He headed back toward the kitchen and once he was gone, Clark addressed his sister.

 

“Where’s he going?” he asked.

 

Jordan shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine,” she said.

 

Clark glanced at Hero.  “I think that dog gets bigger every time I see him.”

 

Jordan glanced down at her dog. “Hero, say hello to Clark.”

 

Hero obediently let out a curt bark and Clark smiled.  “Hello yourself, Hero,” he said and reached over to give him a friendly pat on the head.

 

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Bruce had found Alfred and approached his friend.  “Alfred, I need to speak with you for a moment please,” he requested.

 

“Certainly, sir.”

 

“I haven’t addressed this before because I was hoping you would come to me first, but it now involves Jordan and I need to know what – or rather whom – I’m dealing with. What is your connection to Nicholas Ashton?”

 

Alfred paused for the briefest of moments before releasing a resigned sigh.  “Nicholas Ashton is my son,” he admitted softly.

 

“Your son?” Bruce repeated incredulously.  “Obviously I have missed something. Are you telling me that you’re a Duke?”

 

“Of course not, sir,” Alfred responded.  “Nicholas’ mother was the only child of the Duke of Wynmore and we became involved while I was in college.  When Elizabeth discovered she was pregnant, we were forced to marry to ensure that the child would be legitimate. Her father, however, did not approve of me and shortly after Nicholas was born he forced me to divorce Elizabeth and relinquish all claims to our son.”

 

“Yet another reason to dislike British royalty,” Bruce said dryly.  “I don’t mean this to sound accusatory, but why did you agree to give up your child?”

 

“I had nothing to offer him,” Alfred replied.  “I was the youngest son of an underbutler who had relinquished his position in the Duke’s household to come to America and work for your parents.  The Duke of Wynmore was wealthy, powerful and popular and promised to make Nicholas his heir if I agreed to let the Ashtons raise him.”

 

“Is that when you joined the British Secret Service?”

 

“Yes. I certainly did not want to stay in London and watch my son grow up from afar when I was forbidden to have any contact with him.  I spent the next ten years in the Service until I received my father’s message requesting that I come to America. I attempted to see my son before leaving the country, but the Ashtons were still unwilling to grant me access to him. So after I came here to say good-bye to my father, I agreed to assume his position in this house in the hope that I could atone for my own inability to be a father to Nicholas by assisting your father in caring for you.”

 

Bruce gave the older man a warm smile.  “Something you have done admirably, if I may say so myself,” he declared.

 

“Thank you, sir. If I may ask, what does all of this have to do with Miss Jordan?”

 

“That’s what I need to find out,” Bruce responded. “Clark has learned that Ashton’s right hand man Billings has been in Smallville trying to uncover information about Jordan.”

 

“Perhaps he intends to get to you through her.”

 

“That seems to be the general consensus,” Bruce replied.  “What I have to find out is what he’s after and why he needs Jordan’s personal history to get it.”

 

“I will, of course, assist you in any way you need, Master Bruce,” Alfred declared. “I apologize for not being forthcoming sooner about my relationship with Nicholas.”

 

“Alfred, you don’t owe me any apologies. As I said, I was more than willing to wait for you to come to me with the information until it involved Jordan.”

 

“Than permit me to assure you that despite my connection to Nicholas, my loyalty lies with you and Miss Jordan,” Alfred told him.  “If for whatever reason Nicholas’ intentions toward either of you prove less than honorable, he will live to regret it.”

 

Bruce covered a smile. “That sounded suspiciously like a threat, Alfred,” he remarked casually.

 

“It was a promise, Mister Wayne.”

 

Now Bruce did smile.  “Thank you, Alfred. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

 

Alfred returned to his duties as Bruce made his way back into the foyer to rejoin Clark and Jordan.

 

“Where did you disappear to?” Clark asked.

 

“I spoke with Alfred about Ashton,” Bruce answered.  “It seems that the good Duke is Alfred’s long lost son.”

 

“Really…well, that explains why he reacted so oddly to his name the first time you mentioned it,” Jordan said.

 

“I don’t suppose he offered any insight as to why his son might be interested in Jordan’s past?” Clark prompted.

 

“No, but I certainly intend to find that out for myself,” Bruce responded.  “Ashton is staying over at the Hyatt. I’m going to head over there and have a little chat with His Grace.”

 

“I’m going with you,” Jordan replied.

 

“No, you’re not,” Bruce countered.

 

“Bruce….”

 

“This isn’t open for discussion, Jordan.  Royalty or not and his biological connection to Alfred notwithstanding, for all we know he could be connected to the terrorists that tried to kill you before we were married. Until I know what Ashton is after, I won’t put you at risk.”

 

Jordan was clearly not happy with her husband’s pronouncement.  “Clark, would you excuse us for a moment please?” she requested tightly.

 

“Um, sure…I’ll just go out back and throw a ball for Hero.  Come on, boy.”

 

Clark made a hasty retreat with Hero in tow and Jordan shifted her attention to Bruce, crossing her arms in front of her as she spoke.

 

“I don’t appreciate being told to stay at home like a small child,” she said angrily.  “I understand you want to protect me but you can’t order me to stay in the house or send me home every time I might encounter a dangerous situation.”

 

“I’m sorry that I upset you, Jordan, but I repeat: this isn’t open for discussion.”

 

Bruce paused a moment to see if she would interrupt, but when Jordan remained silent, he continued.

 

“It has nothing to do with my faith in your ability to protect yourself or your ability to avoid dangerous situations in the first place.  But I’ve made powerful enemies as both Bruce Wayne and Batman and I will not expose you to them if it can be avoided.”

 

“You don’t know that Ashton intends to do me – or us – harm.”

 

Bruce took a step closer and placed his hands on her arms. “And I don’t know that he doesn’t.  Until I do, I need to know you’re safe. Maybe I’m paranoid or maybe I’m just overprotective, but in either case it was part of the package when you came back to me knowing about my other life.  I love you, Jordan, and I will live with your anger and resentment if it comes to that because at least I can keep you alive.”

 

Bruce finished his declaration and waited in patient silence for her to respond. Jordan held his gaze for almost a full minute before replying.

 

“You’re going to owe me another dog for this,” she said at last. “A big, slobbery one.”

 

Bruce smiled.  “You have a deal, Princess,” he told her and leaned over to kiss her.  “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Say good-bye to Clark for me.”

 

“I will.”

 

Bruce headed out of the house as Jordan made her way to the backyard to join Clark.  He was standing at the edge of the lawn playing fetch with Hero and glanced over his shoulder expectantly when he heard Jordan approach.

 

“I assume you heard all of that,” she said.

 

“I did,” Clark confirmed.

 

“I suppose you agree with Bruce.”

 

“Yes I do, but if it’s any consolation Lois and I usually have similar disagreements at least once a week.”

 

“Clark you and I used to have similar disagreements at least once a day while I was growing up,” Jordan reminded him dryly.  “If you and Lois have whittled it down to only once a week, consider yourself lucky.”

 

Clark smiled at his sister’s comment before growing serious.  “I wish you had told me sooner about the miscarriage,” he said. “I would have been here for you in a heart beat.”

 

“I know, Clark, but Bruce and I needed a few days to ourselves to deal with the loss.”

 

“How is he doing?”

 

“I’m not sure.  He says that he has every confidence that we’ll eventually have a successful pregnancy, but I’m worried that maybe my unknown genetic history from my MIA birth parents might be a factor. And despite his assurances that he would have no problem adopting, I know in his heart he wants a child of his own blood.”

 

Clark sighed.  “I’m not trying top patronize you, Jordan, but are you sure?  Look at us. Mom and Pop loved us as much as they could have loved children that were theirs biologically, and you and I are as close if not closer than any blood siblings.”

 

Jordan managed a small smile.  “Daddy used to tell us that ‘blood may be thicker than water, but it can’t hold water when it comes to love’,” she recalled. “If Bruce and I are ever blessed with a child, I hope we can do half the job as parents that Mom and Daddy did for you and me.”

 

“Are you kidding?” Clark prompted.  “Our kids will respectively have Superman and Batman as their father and uncle, not to mention you and Lois as their mother and aunt.  The next generation will never know what hit them.”

 

Jordan laughed. “Big Brother, I don’t know if you just insulted us all or flattered us, but I do like the way you think.”

 

 

 

 

GOTHAM HYATT

 

Inside his suite, Ashton was reviewing some reports from his London office with Billings when a knock at the door signaled the arrival of an unexpected visitor.

 

“Did you order room service?” Ashton inquired.

 

“No, your grace,” Billings said.

 

He stood up and crossed over to the door.  Glancing through the peephole, he recognized Bruce instantly and cast a surprised look at Ashton.

 

“It’s Bruce Wayne.”

 

“By all means, let him in.”

 

Billings exchanged a surprised look with Ashton before opening the door and Bruce walked inside. Ignoring Billings for the moment, he strode across the room to position himself in front of Ashton, who had also risen to his feet upon Bruce’s entry.

 

“I’d like an explanation as to why you’re prying into my wife’s personal history,” he declared without preamble, controlled anger evident in his expression.  “If you’re somehow trying to get to me through Jordan, it will be the last mistake you ever make.”

 

“Mister Wayne, I have no idea what you are talking about,” Ashton responded, his confusion genuine. “I assure you that I am not trying to ‘get to you’, via your wife or otherwise.”

 

“The fact that you had Billings here poking around in her hometown of Smallville trying to uncover information about her past would seem to contradict that,” Bruce countered.

 

“Billings’ presence in Smallville had nothing to do with your wife,” Ashton replied.  “I am attempting to resolve some unfinished personal business from several years ago.”

 

Bruce stifled a frustrated sigh and glanced at Billings.  “Were you or were you not inquiring about the whereabouts of a baby that was abandoned in Smallville 34 years ago?” he prompted.

 

Billings nodded. “Yes, but…”

 

Bruce cut him off.  “That baby was my wife,” he revealed and shifted his attention back to the Duke.  “If you’re telling the truth about not looking into her history for leverage against me, then how did you know where Jordan was from and that she had been abandoned as an infant?”

 

Realization hit Ashton then and he inhaled sharply.  “Good Lord…” he muttered.   “Your wife Jordan must be Joy’s child.”

 

“That would explain why she seemed familiar to me, your grace,” Billings added.  “She has your eyes.”

 

“Would one of you please explain to me what the hell you’re rambling about?” Bruce requested.

 

Ashton sighed.  “My apologies, Mister Wayne,” he demurred.  “I will be happy to explain all of this, but you may want to sit down for what I have to tell you.”

 

“I prefer to stand.”

 

“Very well.”  Ashton sighed again and ran a hand across the back of his neck before continuing.  “Thirty-five years ago when I was sixteen, I had a brief relationship with a young American girl who was also sixteen, a lovely blonde girl from the Midwest named Joy Barrett. Three months after Joy returned to America her parents contacted mine to inform them she was pregnant. Being young and scared and stupid, I denied being the father and my parents dismissed the American family as being after our money. We never heard from them again.”

 

“Why the attack of conscience now?” Bruce interjected.

 

“My mother died six months ago and there was a stipulation in her will that I was to name an heir within a year of turning fifty or the Ashton family holdings would be delegated to outside parties upon my death.  I lost my wife to cancer only three years into our marriage and unfortunately we never had children. So when I discovered my mother’s stipulation, I realized that I had to try and track down the child I had disavowed fathering all those years before.”

 

Bruce could see where this tale was leading.  “You think Jordan is that child,” he surmised.

 

“Yes,” Ashton confirmed and gave him a succinct summary of what Billings had learned from James Barrett.  “Now that it appears your wife was the child Joy died giving birth to, the final piece of the puzzle has fallen into place.”

 

“Assuming for the moment Jordan is your daughter, what do you want from her?”

 

Ashton smiled.  “Rather protective of your wife, aren’t you?” he prompted.

 

“I have reason to be,” Bruce responded evenly.  “Answer the question.”

 

“If medical tests confirm that Jordan is indeed my biological daughter than I will make the arrangements to have her named my legal heir back in England,” Ashton explained.  “All of the various titles and financial holdings that reside with the Ashton family will be bequeathed to her upon my death.”

 

“I find it interesting that you can designate your illegitimate child your legitimate heir when your grandfather forced your father to marry your mother in order to legitimize you,” Bruce commented casually.

 

Ashton’s smile widened.  “I see I’m not the only one who has been uncovering the Ashton family secrets,” he said.  “Times have changed in the last 50 years, Mister Wayne, and even we royals have been forced to change with them.  Now the conditions for legalizing one’s inheritance require only proof of a blood tie, not the benefits of matrimony.”

 

Bruce remained silent for a moment, taking a moment to absorb everything Ashton had told him before responding.

 

“I’ll tell Jordan what you’ve told me, but the decision about what - if anything – to do about it will be hers,” he replied.  “If for any reason she chooses not to acknowledge you and accept what you have to offer, you are to leave her alone.”

 

“I have no desire to force myself into her life, Mister Wayne, but at the very least she should submit to a blood test so we can determine for certain if she is my daughter.”

 

Bruce’s expression did not change but his eyes were like black ice and the aura of danger he exuded was almost tangible.  “Jordan won’t ‘submit’ to anything if she chooses not to acknowledge you,” he repeated.  “If you try to press the issue, I promise you will regret it.”

 

Something in the younger man’s tone warned Ashton that Bruce was deadly serious and he wisely offered no further comment or protest. 

 

“If Jordan decides she wants to take a DNA test or meet you herself, than I’ll be in touch,” Bruce said. “Otherwise any further contact between us will be business related and you can deal with Lucius Fox.”

 

Without waiting for a response, Bruce turned on his heel and left the suite.  Once he was gone, Billings released a nervous sigh.

 

“Well that was fun,” he said sarcastically.  “For a few moments there I was worried Wayne was going to take a swing at you.”

 

“He’s simply protecting what he values most, Robert,” Ashton countered.  “I respect him for loving his wife so deeply.”

 

“How do you think he uncovered the information about your parents?”  Billings asked.  “I was under the impression that your grandfather had made certain the details of your conception were kept secret.”

 

“I have a suspicion that Mister Wayne is acquainted with my father,” Ashton answered.  “When I was in his office the day of his wife’s accident, he received a phone call from a gentleman his secretary referred to as ‘Mr. Pennyworth’ and Mister Wayne addressed him as Alfred.”

 

Billings nodded.  “Given that Mr. Pennyworth’s father worked for Mr. Wayne’s parents, it is entirely possible that they are familiar with one another,” he allowed.

 

“If I were a betting man I would wager that there is more to their acquaintance than passing familiarity,” Ashton replied.  “Perhaps that is something I should look into while we await Jordan Wayne’s decision about whether or not she wishes to acquaint herself with me.”

 

“What will you do if Dr. Wayne does decide she wants nothing to do with you?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

 

 

 

WAYNE MANOR

 

It was dusk by the time Bruce returned home and he entered his house just as Jordan came down the stairs, dressed to the nines in a floor length, sleeveless navy blue velvet gown with a pair of diamond earrings dangling from her ears and the ever present gold Sun pendant Bruce had given her on their wedding day adorning her neck.

 

“You look gorgeous,” Bruce replied. “Are we dressing for dinner now?”

 

“We have the Green Ribbon Ball tonight, remember?” Jordan prompted.  “It was scheduled to tie-in with the one year anniversary of PEACE’s incorporation into Wayne Conservation International.”

 

The Green Ribbon Ball was an annual black tie event Jordan and the original founders of PEACE had created in order to raise funds for various conservation organizations. Along with PEACE, past recipients of the donations included Environmental Defense Fund, World Wildlife Fund, International Fund for Animal Welfare and the African Wildlife Foundation.

 

Bruce sighed. “I totally forgot that was tonight.”

 

“Well we aren’t due at the hotel for about an hour so you have plenty of time to head upstairs and put on your tuxedo,” Jordan told him.

 

“I need to talk with you about Ashton before we go anywhere,” Bruce replied.  “I think Alfred should hear it as well.”

 

“All right. I think he’s in the kitchen.”

 

Bruce placed his hand on the small of Jordan’s back and escorted her into the dining room just as Alfred exited the kitchen.

 

“I thought I heard your voice, Master Bruce,” he said.  “Shall I bring the Rolls around or will you be driving yourself tonight?”

 

“The Rolls will be fine, Alfred,” Bruce responded. “But first I need you and Jordan to hear what I found out from Ashton.”

 

Alfred glanced questioningly at Jordan, who merely shrugged and they settled themselves at the dining room table as they glanced expectantly at Bruce.

 

“Because we’re pressed for time to get to the ball, I’ll give you the full story while we’re on our way,” Bruce began.  “But as my lovely wife is so fond of saying, the Cliff Notes version is that Nicholas Ashton is apparently Jordan’s biological father.”

 

It was difficult to say who was more surprised at the revelation – Alfred or Jordan. Both had similar expressions of astonishment on their faces and after a moment Jordan was the first to find her voice.

 

“Can he prove it?” she asked.

 

“If you’re willing to take a DNA test, yes,” Bruce answered.  “But the information he gave me regarding how you were conceived and why you were abandoned after birth seems to match what we know of your origins.”

 

“Are you saying that you believe him, sir?” Alfred prompted.

 

“I’m saying that so far I don’t have a reason not to,” Bruce demurred and looked to Jordan.  “I called Lucius on the way home and he’s checking the information the Duke gave me regarding your alleged biological mother and her family.  In the meantime, I have made it clear to Ashton that he is to steer clear of you unless and until you decide to approach him.”

 

“How much did he tell you about my biological mother?” Jordan inquired.

 

“Her name was Joy Barrett and she was from Nebraska.”

 

“I take it from your use of the past tense that she’s dead.”

 

Bruce hesitated ever so briefly, knowing that he was about to confirm Jordan’s worst fears but also knowing he had no choice. “According to what Billings learned from Joy’s brother, she died in childbirth,” he revealed evenly.

 

Jordan shook her head as she covered her face with her hands.  “This is unbelievable,” she replied.  “One of my worst nightmares resulting from the miscarriage has now been confirmed.”

 

“We don’t know that the cause of Joy’s death is in any way related to you losing the baby, Jordan,” Bruce countered gently.

 

“And we don’t know that it isn’t!” Jordan retorted angrily and immediately regretting her outburst, released a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap at you.”

 

“I know this is all rather overwhelming right now, Princess, but there is a silver lining.”

 

Jordan swiped away a tear trickling down her cheek. “Which is?”

 

“If we do prove that Nicholas Ashton is your biological father, then that means our friend Alfred here is your grandfather.”

 

Jordan managed a small smile and she glanced at Alfred.  “Well that would be fine with me but I’m not so sure Alfred would consider it a blessing,” she said wryly. 

 

“I already look upon you as a daughter, Miss Jordan,” Alfred told her. “Should the Duke’s claims prove to be true, I would be honored to acknowledge you as my granddaughter.”

 

Jordan reached across the table and gently squeezed his hands.  “Thank you.”

 

Alfred shifted his gaze to Bruce. “If I may say so, Master Bruce, you seem to be taking all of this rather well,” he remarked.

 

“It’s a win-win situation for me, Alfred,” Bruce responded.  “The symmetry of my life would come full circle if the abandoned baby girl who was raised as the adopted sister of my best friend and grew into the exceptional woman who became my soulmate, is eventually revealed to be the granddaughter of the man I consider my surrogate father.”

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

“I’ll be interested to hear all of the juicy details on the way to the ball,” Jordan said. “Right now, however, you need to go upstairs and change into your formal wear. I’m going to make a quick call to Clark and let him know what you found out.”

 

”What about Martha?” Bruce asked.

 

“There’s no way I am going to lay all of this on my mom over the telephone,” Jordan responded.  “Between the miscarriage and Ashton’s claim to be my biological father, I need to plan a trip to Montana and discuss everything with her in person.”

 

“It will take a few days to verify the information Ashton gave us and arrange the DNA test, which I am assuming you want,” Bruce replied, and at Jordan’s nod, he added, “Why don’t you call Martha and invite her and Ben to come for a visit? If their schedules permit it, I can arrange for the jet pick them up tomorrow and have them here in time for dinner.”

 

Jordan flashed him a grateful smile.  “Have I mentioned lately that I love you?”

 

“Of course you do.”

 

 

 

 

GOTHAM REGENCY HOTEL

 

Inside the ballroom of his hotel, Bruce was making a valiant attempt not to look as bored as he felt, while Jordan was across the room speaking with a small group of reporters who were covering the ball.

 

Better her than me, he mused as he sipped at a glass of champagne. She’s easier on the eyes.

 

“Hello, Stranger,” a feminine voice greeted softly from behind him.

 

Bruce turned to see his longtime friend Rachel Dawes standing a few feet away and he gave her a warm smile.  Time and life experience had left their mark on her delicate features in the form of a few extra wrinkles around the eyes, but she was still a lovely woman and her forest green dress contrasted well with her dark coloring.

 

“Hello, yourself,” he responded.  “Aren’t you supposed to be working on your tan in California?”

 

Rachel smiled. She had moved from Gotham City to Los Angeles nearly five years ago after accepting a lucrative position in a private law firm, a move prompted in part by her realization that as much as they cared for one another, she and Bruce were not meant to be more than friends.

 

“I’m here visiting my parents,” Rachel explained.  “They were supposed to be at this event but my mother came down with the stomach flu at the last minute so she and my father gave their tickets to me.”

 

“Are you here by yourself?” Bruce asked.

 

“No; my fiancé is over with the reporters talking with your wife.”

 

“Is he a reporter?”

 

Rachel nodded.  “He works as one of the editors for the Daily Planet in Metropolis,” she revealed.  “His uncle is the Editor-in -Chief.”

 

Bruce’s eyes widened.  “Your fiancé is Richard White?” he prompted.

 

Surprise flickered across Rachel’s face. “Yes. Do you know him?” 

 

“In a manner of speaking,” Bruce allowed.  “Jordan’s sister-in-law was engaged to him a couple of years ago.”

 

“That’s right. I’ve actually met Lois and Clark a couple of times but for some reason I forgot about you being married to Clark’s sister.”

 

“Interesting coincidence that you’re now engaged to Richard, although it does have an odd sort of synchrony.”

 

Rachel smiled again.  “I’m glad you approve,” she replied lightly.  “Marriage seems to agree with you.  There’s an aura of peace about you that I haven’t felt before.”

 

Bruce cast an affectionate glance in Jordan’s direction.  “I hope so,” he responded.  “Jordan and I had a rocky start, but I am more content than I ever expected to be.”

 

“I’m happy for you, Bruce. I know how hard it must have been to find someone who could deal with who you really are.”

 

Bruce returned his attention to Rachel.  “There was a time I thought perhaps you would be the one to give it a shot,” he remarked.

 

A tinge of sadness flickered across Rachel’s face.  “There was a time I hoped I would be,” she admitted, “but Fate obviously had other ideas.”

 

“I did care about you, Rachel. I still do.”

 

“I know and I still care about you.  But I truly love Richard, and it’s obvious from just the way you say her name how much you love your wife.  We’re with the people we’re meant to be with, Bruce.  I have no regrets.”

 

“Thank you for saying so.”

 

Rachel glanced across the room.  “Shall we get a little closer and see what kind of inane questions Richard and the rest of the press are tossing at your wife?” she queried.

 

“I should probably retrieve Jordan before she shreds the reporters,” Bruce said drolly. “With the exception of her brother and sister-in-law, she holds little fondness for them.”

 

Setting his glass on a nearby table, Bruce gently took Rachel’s arm and they made their way over to where Jordan was talking with the reporters.  Richard saw them approach and came over to join them.  He pressed a kiss to Rachel’s cheek before addressing Bruce, keeping his voice low so as to not to disturb the people behind him.

 

“Good to see you again, Mr. Wayne,” he said. 

 

“Likewise, Mr. White,” Bruce returned. “Rachel tells me the two of you are going to be married. Congratulations.”

 

“Thanks.  You and Jordan appear to be enjoying wedded bliss.  I spoke with her briefly before the mini-press conference and she certainly had good things to say about you.”

 

Bruce gave him a faint smile.  “I appreciate the thought, but she’s the sister of a reporter. She knows how to work the press.”

 

The trio shifted their attention to the group in front of them as Jordan finished up with the press.

 

“I’m sure we all want to enjoy the rest of this lovely party so I will only be taking a couple more questions,” she declared.

 

“Dr. Wayne, Lisa Gaines from the Times,” a female reporter said.  “How did you get those battle scars you’re sporting on your upper back tonight?”

 

“Occupational hazard I’m afraid,” Jordan responded.  “I crossed paths with a mother grizzly who didn’t appreciate me literally coming between her and her cubs.”

 

“Dr. Wayne how do you respond to the critics who are suggesting that the funds your husband’s company used for salvaging PEACE and saving animals would have been better used for helping humans?” a male reporter from the Herald interjected.

 

“There are two commonly held trains of thought when it comes to life on this planet,” Jordan began.  “For those people who believe in Creationism, God created life on the 5th and 6th days, starting with birds and fish before moving onto land animals and the like until finishing most notably with Man in His own image.  For those who believe in Darwinism, Humans and animals evolved via natural selection from a common ancestor over millions of years.  But the bottom line is, whichever way you look at it, the animals were here first.  And humanity is not on the endangered species list.”

 

Without bothering to excuse herself, Jordan made her way through the reporters and over to join Bruce and the others.

 

“I think that your last response may be the most eloquent version of ‘Up Yours’ I have ever heard, Princess,” Bruce remarked drolly.

 

“May I quote you on that?” Jordan asked dryly.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

Jordan glanced at Rachel.  “We haven’t met yet,” she said and extended her hand.  “I’m Jordan Wayne.”

 

“Rachel Dawes,” she returned and exchanged a handshake with Jordan.  “I followed your testimony at the exotic animal trafficking trial in San Diego a few years ago.  I think the defense attorney is still licking his wounds after you tore into him while you were on the stand.”

 

“I’m the first person to admit that I am rather overzealous when it comes to defending animals,” Jordan replied.  “I’m certain that the prosecution got exactly what they hoped for when they called me to testify.”

 

Richard glanced at Bruce.  “I’ve been hearing rumors that Wayne Enterprises is going through with the merger of its London division to Ashton Industries,” he said.

 

“The final details are still being worked out,” Bruce demurred.

 

“So it’s true, then.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Nicholas Ashton has a reputation for being quite a formidable businessman,” Richard replied.  “Aren’t you worried that his people and yours will butt heads?”

 

“That’s for Ashton’s people and my London CFO to resolve,” Bruce answered.  “I have enough to do dealing with issues on this side of the Atlantic.”

 

“That’s the understatement of the year,” Jordan muttered.

 

“Maybe you should enlist Dr. Wayne’s help with that,” Richard suggested.  “Any woman who can tangle with a grizzly bear and live to tell about it would make a formidable opponent.”

 

“Wild animals I can handle,” Jordan replied.  “It’s Humans that tend to take me out of commission for a week or two at a time.”

 

“Isn’t that how the two of you met?” Rachel inquired.

 

“More or less,” Bruce allowed.  “Clark introduced us at the hospital after the terrorist attack on the Metropolis Convention Center eighteen months ago.”

 

“I hope you sent him a thank you card,” Rachel quipped.

 

“I did one better,” Bruce countered. “I made him Best Man at the wedding.”

 

“Well I hate to be a party pooper,” Richard interjected, “but Rachel has an early morning flight back to Los Angeles tomorrow and I’m due in Metropolis fairly early for a staff meeting at the Planet.”

 

“Tell your uncle that anytime he wants a change of scenery, the Gotham Herald would welcome his expertise,” Bruce replied.

 

“I’ll pass that along,” Richard assured him.  “Jordan, it was interesting, as always.”

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.  Rachel, it was good to finally meet you. Best of luck to you and Richard with your upcoming marriage.”

 

“Thank you,” Rachel responded and glanced at Bruce.  “It was good to see you again, Bruce.  I’m glad you’re doing so well.”

 

“Likewise, Rachel. Take care of yourself.”

 

“You, too.”

 

The group exchanged farewells and Rachel and Richard headed for the exit. Once they were out of earshot, Jordan addressed Bruce.

 

“They seem happy,” she remarked.

 

“Yes, they do,” Bruce agreed.

 

“How about you? Any regrets or pangs of nostalgia?”

 

“Not even a twinge.”

 

“You sound pretty sure about that, but if things had worked out differently, Rachel could be Mrs. Bruce Wayne and I’d be sitting in a mosquito invested jungle somewhere berating the pygmies for eating tapir meat.”

 

Bruce laughed.  “In that case the pygmies of the world owe me a debt of gratitude for saving them from you,” he said wryly.

 

“And I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving me from myself,” Jordan added solemnly. 

 

“I think that should be my line.”

 

“Shall we blow this joint and have Alfred take us home so we can express our mutual appreciation in a private setting?”

 

“That’s the best offer I’ve had all night, Princess.”

 

The couple exchanged a kiss before starting out of the ballroom.

 

 

 

 

WAYNE MANOR

 

Two days later, Martha and Ben were sharing breakfast with Jordan and Bruce on one of the outside terraces while Hero and Shelby played dog tag on the lawn.  True to his word, Bruce had arranged for his private jet to ferry them from Montana to Gotham – along with Shelby - and they had arrived the evening before..  As they all shared a chuckle over a private joke, Alfred approached them.

 

“May I offer anyone more coffee, or tea for you, Miss Jordan?”

 

“I’m fine, Alfred,” Jordan responded.

 

“So am I,” Martha echoed

 

“I’ll take another cup of coffee,” Ben requested. 

 

“Certainly. Master Bruce?”

 

“I’ll have another cup as well, Alfred.”

 

“Very good, sir.”

 

As Alfred retreated into the house to fetch the coffee, Jordan glanced at Martha.  “Why don’t we leave our husbands to their caffeine and take a walk down to the stables?” she suggested.  “One of the mares gave birth last week and I’d love for you to see the foal.”

 

“That would be lovely.”

 

The woman excused themselves and made their way across the vast lawn to the stables, where the head groom greeted Jordan with a friendly smile.

 

“Good morning, Dr. Wayne,” he greeted.

 

Fred Barnes was a tall man in his late 50’s with tanned, weathered skin that bore testament to his years of working outdoors with horses.

 

“Good morning, Fred,” Jordan returned.  “If Crystal is up for some visitors, I’d love to show off her foal to my mother.”

 

“Crystal’s in a fine mood this morning,” Fred told her.  “She and the little one are in the West paddock.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Jordan led Martha around the barn to the fenced enclosure on its West side, where a snow white Thoroughbred mare and her spindly legged chestnut foal were enjoying the morning sunshine.  As Jordan approached, Crystal came over to greet her at the fence while her foal watched from a few feet away.

 

“Hello, beautiful,” Jordan said and gently patted the horse’s nose.  “Mom, this is Crystal, and the little fellow behind her is her colt, Bourbon.”

 

“Bourbon?” Martha echoed questioningly.

 

“His sire belongs to a breeder in Kentucky so Bruce thought it would be amusing to tag the colt with a ‘Southern’ name,” Jordan explained.  “He was originally going to call him Redneck, but I vetoed that immediately.”

 

Martha smiled and glanced at the colt. “Isn’t he a precious little thing?”

 

“His sire won the Triple Crown in 2007 so when this fellow gets old enough we’re going to ship him back to Kentucky to start formal training,” Jordan revealed.

 

“He’s certainly a handsome little guy,” Martha replied and glanced at Jordan.  “So do you want to continue making small talk about the horses or do you want to tell me why you had Bruce bring me here from Montana on 24 hours notice?”

 

Jordan shook her head.  “I don’t know why I bother trying to keep anything from you,” she muttered.

 

“Neither do I. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

 

The younger woman took a deep breath and got straight to the point.  “I had a miscarriage last week, Mom,” she revealed softly.

 

“Oh, Jordan…”

 

Martha immediately enveloped her daughter in a tight hug and held onto her for a moment before pulling back to met her gaze.  “Was it because of the bear attack?” she asked.

 

Jordan shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.  “No. According to the doctor, the nature of the pregnancy made a miscarriage inevitable. The accident just initiated it sooner rather than later.”

 

“I am so sorry, sweetheart.  Does Clark know?”

 

“Yes. He was here a couple of days ago and Bruce and I broke the news to him.”

 

Martha placed her hand against Jordan’s cheek in a gesture of comfort.  “My poor baby,” she soothed.

 

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” Jordan replied.  “There is a man here from England who is in the midst of a business deal with Bruce and he claims to be my biological father.”

 

Shock registered on Martha’s face.  “How on Earth could he possibly know that?” she asked.

 

Jordan quickly gave her mother an overview of the information Bruce had obtained from Ashton.  “We won’t know for certain until Lucius verifies his story and the results come back from the DNA test I took yesterday,” she said, “but Bruce feels that Ashton is telling the truth.”

 

Martha sighed.  “I can only imagine how overwhelming this must be for you,” she remarked.  “First the miscarriage and now this Duke who may be your father…”

 

“My biological father,” Jordan interjected quickly.  “Even if his story turns out to be true, he won’t replace Daddy.”

 

“No one ever could, Jordan,” Martha allowed.  “But if the Duke does turn out to be your biological father, Jonathan would be the first person to encourage you to meet him.”

 

“I have nothing to say to him and he gave up any right to say one word to me when he denied being my father 35 years ago.”

 

Jordan’s tone and expression were laced with thinly veiled rage and Martha gave her daughter a concerned look.

 

“Where is all of this anger coming from for a man you’ve never met?” she asked.  “Are you worried that if you acknowledge Nicholas Ashton it will somehow threaten the memories of your relationship with Jonathan?”

 

Jordan did not respond but the expression on her face made it obvious that Martha had hit the proverbial nail on the head.

 

“Sweetheart, the love you shared with your father won’t be diminished or damaged if you develop a relationship with the Duke,” Martha assured her.  “What you had with Jonathan was a special gift, but it doesn’t mean that you can’t learn to care for your biological father as well.”

 

“You said yourself that he’s a stranger,” Jordan pointed out.  “Any connection we have is strictly genetic.  I don’t want or need another father, or another parent for that matter.”

 

“You can never have too many people to love you, Jordan,” Martha countered.  “And for the record, I certainly won’t feel slighted or threatened if you decide to acknowledge Mr. Ashton.  Frankly I’d like to meet him myself and thank him.”

 

Jordan was clearly surprised by her mother’s comment. “For what?”

 

“For being foolish enough to deny you and set in motion a chain of events that literally brought you to my doorstep all those years ago.  Jonathan and I were so devastated when we discovered I couldn’t bear children, but the good Lord saw fit to bless us with Clark and with you.  I can never express my gratitude to Clark’s birth parents but I would like the opportunity to do so with the Duke.”

 

Jordan managed a small smile.  “Well if he does turn out to be my father maybe we’ll have a little family reunion right here at the house,” she quipped.  “I imagine Alfred would like to see his son.”

 

“The Duke is Alfred’s son?” Martha prompted. 

 

“Oh, yeah. I guess I forgot to mention that.”

 

“I guess you did.”

 

Jordan swiftly explained the story of the Duke’s conception and Alfred’s subsequent, short-lived marriage to Elizabeth Ashton. When she finished, Martha sighed again and shook her head.

 

“There is entirely too much drama happening in this house,” she declared. “It’s no wonder Bruce sneaks out of the house every night to track down criminals. It probably keeps him sane.”

 

Jordan laughed and gave her mother a fierce hug.  “I love you, Mom.”

 

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

 

 

 

 

WAYNE TOWER 

 

The following afternoon, Jordan was in her office at PEACE signing off on some paperwork as she waited for the results from the DNA test.  Bruce was in his own office five floors above her, while Ben and Martha were at Wayne Manor with Clark and Lois, who had brought Jason from Metropolis to visit his grandmother.

 

A knock on her door signaled the arrival of an unexpected visitor and she glanced up as Elliott Webster, CFO of Wayne Conservation International, stepped into her office.

 

“Hi, Jordan; do you have a minute?” he asked.

 

“Sure, Elliott. Come on in.”

 

Webster walked over to stand in front of her desk.  “I saw the story in the Herald yesterday about the Green Ribbon Ball,” he said.  “Apparently your comment that ‘Humanity is not on the endangered species list’ caused quite a stir.”

 

“It wasn’t the first time I’ve said something that pissed people off,” Jordan allowed. 

 

“On the contrary, it seems to have become the call to action for the animal lovers of our fair city,” Webster responded.  “I just got a call from Jeff Franklin down in accounting, and aside from a record tally for the donations from the ball of just under two million dollars, we set a record yesterday for single day donations somewhere in the neighborhood of $75,000.00.”

 

“Well that should keep us employed for a little while longer,” Jordan quipped.  “Seriously, though, that is great news.  Thanks for letting me know.”

 

“My pleasure.  I’m on my way to a meeting with Mr. Fox so I’m going to give him the good news. I’m assuming you’ll want to tell Mr. Wayne yourself.”

 

“I appreciate your deference to my marriage, Elliott, but I’m not really one to toot my own horn. I’m sure Lucius will pass the information along if he feels it’s appropriate.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Webster replied.  “I know you’re going to be at the zoo for the next few days, so if anything comes up that I need your autograph on I’ll send it to you there.”

 

“Thanks, Elliott.”

 

Webster exited her office just as her computer chimed to announce the arrival of an email.  Jordan opened her mail folder and discovered a message from the doctor’s office with the DNA test results attached. Jordan quickly printed it out and after reading enough of it to determine the results, got to her feet and headed to Bruce’s office. Approaching his personal secretary, Jordan flashed her a small smile.

 

“Hi, Jessica. Is Bruce in his office?”

 

“Yes Ma’am,” Jessica said.  “He’s in there with Mr. Fox.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Jordan wandered down the hall to Bruce’s office and as the door was ajar, she walked directly inside.  

 

“Sorry to interrupt, Gentlemen, but I just received an email with the results of the DNA test,” she announced as she approached them.

 

“That is perfect timing,” Bruce replied. “Lucius was just updating me on what he found out from James Barrett in Nebraska.”

 

“Did the Duke’s story check out?”  Jordan asked.

 

“Yes it did,” Fox told her.  “Barrett was understandably curious about all of the recent interest in his sister’s death and the fate of her child, but he was able to verify everything that Nicholas Ashton told Mr. Wayne.”

 

Jordan sighed.  “Well I can’t say that I’m surprised,” she responded and handed the email printout to Bruce.  “The blood test confirmed that I am Nicholas Ashton’s biological daughter.”

 

“I don’t know that it would be appropriate to offer my congratulations,” Fox remarked, “but I will say that I am glad the emotional roller coaster you must have been on wasn’t for naught.”

 

“Thank you, Lucius.”

 

“Now that you know the truth, what do you want to do about it?” Bruce questioned.

 

“No sense is postponing the inevitable,” Jordan answered.  “I think it’s time I met the Duke.”

 

“Should I invite Ashton and Billings to the house for dinner?”

 

Jordan gave him a knowing smile.  “Be serious, Bruce,” she chided.  “Ashton isn’t going to meet with the lion in his own den.”

 

Lucius permitted himself his own smile as he glanced at Bruce.  “She has a point, Mr. Wayne.”

 

Bruce gave them a look of feigned ignorance.  “Am I really that intimidating?” he asked innocently.

 

“Yes,” Fox and Jordan answered in unison.

 

Bruce merely smiled. 

 

 

 

 

GOTHAM HYATT

 

After calling the hotel to verify that Ashton was in his suite, Bruce had taken Jordan over there to meet him.  As they approached the door of the Duke’s suite, Bruce could sense his wife’s growing anxiety and he cast her a quick glance.

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he pressed. 

 

“I have to,” Jordan replied.

 

Bruce squeezed her arm in silent support before knocking on the door and a moment later it opened to reveal Billings.

 

“Good afternoon, Mister Wayne, Dr. Wayne,” he greeted. “Please come in.”

 

He stepped aside to allow them entry and they wandered into the main area of the suite. Ashton gave them a tentative smile as he greeted them.

 

“Mister Wayne, Dr. Wayne,” he acknowledged formally. “Thank you for coming.”

 

“Your Grace,” Bruce responded simply.

 

Jordan remained silent, taking a moment to look Ashton over and see if there was anything of herself in the man before her.  At her side, Bruce was doing the same.

 

She does have his eyes, he mused. Everything else must have come from Joy Barrett.

 

Unsure of how Jordan felt about their connection, Ashton was the first to break the awkward silence.

 

“I’m sure you must have a lot of questions for me, about myself and my family,” he began.

 

“I learned all I need to know about your family when I was told they dismissed Joy Barrett’s claim that you were her baby’s father and left her to die,” Jordan responded.  “Why didn’t you tell your mother and your grandfather the truth?”

 

“I was young and scared and I made a mistake,” Ashton replied, seemingly resigned to Jordan’s anger.  “My grandfather was very adamant about what was and was not acceptable behavior for the Wynmore heir and fathering an illegitimate child definitely fell into the latter category.”

 

“When your mother conceived you out of wedlock all he did was force her to marry your father,” Jordan pointed out.  “If she wasn’t been disinherited or more severely punished, what made you think you would be?”

 

“Under the laws of the time, my mother was not allowed to inherit the duchy because she was a woman,” Ashton clarified.  “Therefore as her firstborn son the title would pass to me when I came of age and I feared my grandfather’s reaction if he knew the truth.”

 

“Frankly, Your Grace, your grandfather sounds like he was a royal ass.”

 

Bruce closed his eye sin silent mortification as Ashton permitted himself a faint smile.  “He was indeed.”

 

Jordan continued as if he hadn’t spoken.  “You on the other hand were a coward.”

 

“Jordan…” Bruce admonished.

 

Ashton raised a hand to silence him.  “It’s quite all right, Mr. Wayne,” he assured him.  “I’m well aware of your wife’s legendary temper and under the circumstances she has every right to direct it at me.”

 

“How considerate of you to give me leave to be angry at you,” Jordan replied tersely.  “Your excuses for denying my existence seem to be that you were only sixteen and were worried about being disinherited.  That’s a load of cow manure. You were old enough to engage in sexual activity but obviously not man enough to deal with the consequences because you were worried Grandpa would cut off your cash flow.  Because of that, a young girl died giving birth to a child you couldn’t bother to acknowledge and her parents were forced to bury her like common road kill because they couldn’t afford a proper funeral.”

 

She finished her tirade and fell silent, taking a moment to reign herself in as she wiped away tears of anger flowing down her face.  Ashton took advantage of the pause to respond to her allegations.

 

“I am well aware of how much I have to atone for, Jordan.  I can’t turn back the clock and change what happened over 30 years ago. I can only do what I can now to accept the responsibility for my actions and move on.”

 

“Making me your heir changes nothing,” Jordan replied, her anger still evident but now more controlled.  “I came here today because my mother – the woman who raised me after the Barretts left me on her front porch like yesterday’s newspaper – thought that I should acknowledge you. She even said that she wanted to thank you for denying me, because it brought me to my parents, so for her sake I will grant you that.”

 

“I’m sure they are exceptional people to have raised such a strong daughter,” Ashton said.

 

“My father didn’t have much money or an illustrious royal title to fall back on, but he had enough heart to open his home to an orphaned little boy and a baby nobody else wanted. He gave us his name and his love and he and my mother are the two finest human beings I have ever known.  I don’t need anything you have to offer, Your Grace.”

 

“What of your future children, Jordan?” Ashton inquired.  “Would you deny them their rightful heritage because of your hatred of me?”

 

Jordan shot a quick glance toward Bruce at the mention of children and at his encouraging smile returned her attention to Ashton.

 

“I don’t hate you, Your Grace,” she responded softly.  “Obviously I am angry and rightfully so, but hate is a word I reserve for very few people.”

 

“That’s something, I suppose,” Ashton allowed.

 

“I would like to offer a compromise, if I may,” Bruce interjected evenly.

 

“Please do,” Ashton replied.

 

“Jordan’s personal feelings notwithstanding, obviously she has no need of your money,” Bruce pointed out.  “However, I do agree that our children should be allowed the option of exploring and/or accepting their legacy as your grandchildren. So I propose that you arrange for them to inherit the Wynmore duchy and all of the privileges that entails, while distributing your financial assets to a charitable organization of your choice.”

 

Ashton glanced at Billings, who nodded his approval, and glanced back at Bruce.  “That is a very sound suggestion, Mr. Wayne,” he replied.  “Obviously your reputation as an insightful businessman is well-earned.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“May I ask you a personal question?” Ashton requested.

 

“You’re welcome to ask,” Bruce said, “but I don’t guarantee I’ll answer.”

 

Ashton smiled.  “Fair enough.  What is your connection to Alfred Pennyworth?”

 

“If you’re fishing for information about your father, Your Grace, I suggest you contact him directly,” Bruce responded.  “He can be reached at my home.”

 

“Was that an invitation, Mr. Wayne?”

 

“It was a disclosure of information, which you may do with what you wish.”

 

“Just be certain that what you do with it doesn’t cause Alfred any emotional distress,” Jordan added by way of warning.

 

Bruce hid a smile at the threat implied in his wife’s remark. Seems I’m not the only one who is overprotective, he mused silently.

 

“I assure you that my intentions are honorable, Jordan,” Ashton replied.

 

“Time will tell,” came her reply.

 

“Jordan and I have houseguests we need to get back to,” Bruce said pointedly. 

 

“Of course,” Ashton allowed.  “I thank you both for taking the time to meet with me, especially you, Jordan. I know it wasn’t easy, but I hope that time will perhaps take the edge off of your anger.”

 

Jordan acknowledged her father’s remark with a curt nod but said nothing, and Bruce wordlessly led her from the suite.  Once they were alone, Jordan released a heavy sigh.

 

“That was interesting,” she said.  “I didn’t expect to be so angry at him.”

 

“You’re never shy about losing your temper,” Bruce remarked.  “Maybe you needed to release all of that rage you were holding inside so you can forgive him.”

 

“Do you think I should?”

 

“I don’t know that I’m objective enough to answer that either way. The choice has to be yours, Jordan. Only you know what’s in your heart.”

 

“I suppose so.”

 

Inside the suite, Billings and Ashton were engaged in a similar discussion.

 

“What do you think Jordan will do, Robert?” Ashton asked of his aide.

 

“I wish I could answer that for you, Your Grace,” Billings responded.  “I can tell you that I would not care to be on the receiving end of that temper of hers.  I was beginning to worry she would draw blood.”

 

The Duke smiled.  “I imagine she keeps her husband on his toes 24/7,” he said wryly.  “Of course, from what I know of Bruce Wayne I don’t think he would have it any other way.”

 

“From what I learned after you asked me to research him when you came up with the merger proposal, she is just as passionately devoted to him,” Billings remarked.

 

“They make a good match,” Ashton stated.  “I envy them what they have found in each other.”

“I imagine they will eventually provide you with splendid grandchildren, Your Grace.”

 

“One can only hope, Robert. One can only hope.”

 

 

 

 

WAYNE MANOR

 

Jordan and Bruce returned home following their meeting with Ashton and discovered Martha in the backyard, reading a book while the dogs slept nearby. 

 

“Hi, Mom,” Jordan greeted.

 

Martha caught sight of her daughter’s weary expression, gave her a small smile. “Hard day at the office, sweetheart?” she prompted.

 

“Hard day of my life,” Jordan responded.  “The DNA test confirmed that I am Nicholas Ashton’s daughter so Bruce and I went over to the Hyatt so I could meet the Duke.”

 

“How did that go?” Martha asked.

 

“I think I’ll survive the encounter without any permanent damage,” Jordan deadpanned.

 

“I hope you had your temper under control when you talked with him,” Martha replied and at the guilty expression that flickered across Jordan’s elegant features she added, “Well in that case I hope the Duke will survive the encounter without any permanent damage.”

 

“Very funny,” Jordan said lightly.  “Where did everybody go?”

 

“Clark was needed back in Metropolis and Ben and Lois took Jason down to the stables to see Bourbon,” Martha told her.

 

Jordan glanced at Bruce.  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to track down Alfred and let him know that he’s officially a grandfather,” she said.

 

“Go ahead.  I’ll keep your mother company until you get back.”

 

Excusing herself, Jordan retreated back into the house as Bruce settled himself in a chair across from Martha.

 

“You look as worn out as Jordan does,” Martha observed. “This must have been a hard week for you as well.”

 

“I’ve had worse,” Bruce demurred.

 

“Maybe, but I know that you’re hurting from Jordan’s miscarriage also, and it can’t have been easy to watch her dealing with that on top of the discovery that Nicholas Ashton is her father.”

 

Bruce sighed and met Martha’s gaze.  “I feel so helpless not being able to do anything to ease her pain,” he confessed.  “She’s angry and confused and scared and all I can do is just sit back and watch her try to deal with all of it.”

 

Martha reached over to squeeze his arm in a silent gesture of comfort.  “Sometimes that’s all you can do,” she responded gently.  “Jordan knows you love her and that will give her the strength to get through this.”

 

“Is this what being a parent is going to be like?” Bruce asked.  “Having to stand by and do nothing when your child is in pain?” 

 

Martha smiled.  “Parenthood has its share of challenges,” she allowed, “especially with a unique pair of children like Clark and Jordan were. Clark’s just starting to discover that with Jason and God willing you and Jordan will discover it with your own children as well.  But I promise you that the joy they will bring into your lives far outweighs anything else that comes with it.”

 

“Except the dogs,” Bruce quipped, earning him a laugh from Martha.

 

Inside the house, Jordan located Alfred in the study and he turned to greet her when he heard her enter.

 

“Hello, Miss Jordan,” he said.  “You’re home early.”

 

“Bruce and I just came from the Hyatt,” Jordan replied.  “The DNA results confirmed Ashton’s story so Bruce took me to meet him.”

 

“I see,” Alfred responded.  “May I ask how that went?”

 

“About as well as you might expect given my notorious temper,” Jordan admitted.  “I’m going to need a few days to figure out what, if anything, I intend to do about Ashton. But I wanted to tell you myself that you’re officially my grandfather.”

 

Alfred flashed her a warm smile.  “That is good news indeed,” he declared and they exchanged a hug.

 

“Ashton asked about you by the way,” Jordan told him.  “Just before we left he asked Bruce what his connection to you was.”

 

“I can only imagine how Master Bruce responded to that,” Alfred said dryly.

 

“Actually he didn’t respond at all, other than to suggest to Ashton that he contact you directly here if he was interested.”

 

“I strongly doubt that Nicholas will go to the trouble,” Alfred returned, “But on the off chance he does, I don’t want to cause you any undue stress by him showing up here.”

 

Jordan gave him an affectionate smile.  “I appreciate your concern, Alfred, but Nicholas is your son and I don’t want my issues with him to prevent the two of you from reconnecting if that is his intention.”

 

“Thank you, Miss Jordan.”

 

“Besides, if he causes either of us any trouble, I’ll sic Hero on him.”

 

Alfred smiled. “Indeed.”

 

 

 

************************************************************

 

 

 

Late the following morning, Jordan and Bruce were ensconced in his private jet en route to Nebraska.  After depositing Ben, Martha and Shelby back in Montana, the couple was going to Nebraska to meet James Barrett.  Back at the house, Alfred was in a discussion with the telephone repairman about a wiring issue when the doorbell rang.  Curious as to who it could be, as Bruce had not told him to expect any visitors or deliveries, Alfred made his way through the foyer to the front door and pulled it open.  An attractive man he did not recognize stood on the stoop, dressed in an expensive suit and looking slightly nervous.

 

“May I help you?” Alfred inquired.

 

“I hope so,” the man responded with a British accent.  “I’m looking for Alfred Pennyworth.”

 

“Then you’re looking for me.”

 

Surprise flickered across the younger man’s face and he paused briefly before replying.  “Mr. Pennyworth…Alfred…I’m Nicholas Ashton.”

 

Alfred froze as he met the gaze of a son he had not seen in 50 years.  He looks like my father, he observed in silence. And Miss Jordan does indeed have his eyes.

 

“Alfred?” Ashton prompted.

 

The older man shook himself out of his reverie and addressed Ashton.  “My apologies, Your Grace.  However, you are just about the last person in the world I would have expected to find on the doorstep.”

 

“I understand,” Ashton allowed.  “I tried to call ahead and verify with Mr. Wayne that it was all right if I came here, but there seems to be some trouble with the line.”

 

“Mr. Wayne already informed me that he had given his permission for you to come,” Alfred told him.  “Why don’t you come inside?”

 

Alfred stepped aside to allow him entry and Ashton wandered into the foyer, taking a cursory glance around the house before returning his attention to his father.  “Wayne Manor is every bit as spectacular as its reputation,” he remarked.  “Not even the Ashton family estate in London can compare to this house.”

 

“I will be certain to tell Mr. Wayne you said so,” Alfred replied.

 

“I assume that Mr. Wayne and Jordan have filled you in on our family ties,” Ashton began.

 

“Yes,” Alfred confirmed.

 

“I told Jordan that I was attempting to atone for denying her existence by accepting responsibility for what happened. Part of that has to include acknowledging what my grandfather did to you.”

 

“With all due respect, Your Grace, I came to terms with my issues with Lord Ashton and losing you to him a long time ago,” Alfred responded.  “Reopening those wounds now would serve no purpose.”

 

“I disagree,” Ashton countered.  “And please call me Nicholas. Despite our estrangement, you are my father and having you refer to me as ‘Your Grace’ is a bit ridiculous.”

 

Relief passed across Alfred’s face ever so briefly at his son’s apparent lack of animosity.  “As you wish, Nicholas.”

 

“I knew that my grandfather used his wealth and influence to pressure you into marrying and divorcing my mother, as well as relinquishing your claim on me.  As Jordan so succinctly put it, he was a ‘royal ass’,” Ashton finished with a smile.

 

The revelation wrung a matching smile from Alfred.  “That sounds like something Miss Jordan would say,” he said.  “She is never shy about speaking her mind.”

 

“At the time you left, I was unable to do anything about it. Yet once I reached adulthood, the fault for our lack of a relationship lay with me.  Just as I ignored the fact that I had fathered a child, I ignored the fact that my own father was alive and well in the United States.”  Ashton paused long enough to nervously run his hand through his hair.   “My fear of losing my inheritance was unfortunately stronger than my desire to reconnect with you.”

 

“You’re not entirely to blame, Nicholas,” Alfred responded.  “Once you were of legal age, I too could have initiated a reunion with you and avoided being a stranger to my own son. I don’t know whether it was residual fear of your grandfather or fear that you would reject any overture I made that kept me from contacting you.  So I left well enough alone and concentrated my paternal instincts on caring for Mr. Wayne.”

 

“Well he turned out quite well so you must have been pretty good at being a father,” Ashton replied.  “I’m not here today because I expect to just ignore the last 50 years and suddenly start acting like a picture perfect father and son.”  He paused, momentarily shifting his gaze to gather his thoughts before returning his attention to his father. “But it occurred to me that if I want Jordan to acknowledge me as her father, perhaps it would behoove me to acknowledge my own.”

 

Alfred’s smile returned.  “I appreciate you taking the time to come here and do so.”

 

Just then Hero came trotting through the house and headed up the staircase to the master bedroom and Nicholas looked at Alfred with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

 

“Was that a dog or small pony?” he asked.

 

“That was Hero,” Alfred clarified.  “He belongs to Miss Jordan.”

 

“I take it she likes big dogs.” 

 

“Miss Jordan is inordinately fond of all animals great and small,” Alfred confirmed with affectionate exasperation.

 

“She must have inherited that from Joy Barrett,” Ashton surmised.  “Aside from the fact she was strikingly lovely for being so young, I remember that Joy was always trying to befriend any creature she came across, whether it had scales, feathers or fur.”

 

“That would certainly explain why Miss Jordan chose to become an evolutionary biologist,” Alfred agreed.

 

Ashton nodded. “Well, I’m sure you have things to do and I need to get back to the hotel,” he said.  “I just wanted to see you and let you know that I don’t harbor any ill will toward you.  Whatever happens with Jordan, I thought it important that you and I resolve our own relationship, or the lack thereof.”

 

“Thank you, Nicholas.”

 

Father and son exchanged a handshake before Ashton headed to his car, and Alfred watched him drive away before retreating back inside.

 

 

 

 

LINCOLN, NEBRASKA

 

James Barrett was in his study reviewing case files when the doorbell rang and the family collie immediately began barking.

 

“Lady, down!!” he heard his wife Michelle order

 

“Honey, would you please see who’s at the door?” Barrett called out.

 

“I’m on it,” Michelle responded.

 

With Lady in tow, Michelle wandered out of the kitchen and through the living room to open the front door. Flashing the striking yet unfamiliar couple on the porch a curious smile, she asked, “May I help you?”

 

“Are you Mrs. James Barrett?” the woman inquired.

 

“I am.”

 

“Mrs. Barrett, my name is Jordan Wayne and this is my husband, Bruce.  If your husband is at home, we’d like to speak with him for a few minutes.”

 

“May I ask what this is regarding?” Michelle pressed.

 

“Mr. Barrett’s sister, Joy, was my birth mother,” Jordan revealed.

 

Michelle’s eyes widened in shock.  “Oh my…” she muttered.  “Please, come in.”

 

Michelle opened the door all the way to grant them access and Jordan and Bruce stepped inside.  Spotting the dog, Jordan reached down to give her a friendly pat on the head.  “Hello, pretty girl.”

 

“James in his study,” Michelle said. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”

 

Michelle wandered down the hall and entered the room at the far end.  Jordan and Bruce heard the muffled voices as she spoke to her husband and a moment later James Barrett exited the study and approached them.  Ignoring Bruce for the moment, he focused on Jordan and she stood in patient silence as he looked her over.

 

“You look like Joy,” Barrett said softly, residual affection for his long departed sister evident in his tone.  “She was always such a pretty little girl; I wondered how she would have looked when she grew up.  Now I know.”

 

Jordan’s eyes inexplicably welled with tears at the simple revelation that at least physically, she was her mother’s daughter.  “Thank you,” she replied.  “My name is Jordan Wayne; this is my husband, Bruce.”

 

Barrett extended his hand. “Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises in Gotham City?” he prompted.

 

“Guilty as charged,” Bruce confirmed as they shook hands.

 

“Obviously you already know I’m James Barrett, and this is my wife, Michelle.”

 

“Why don’t we all sit down in the dining room?” Michelle suggested.

 

The foursome made their way to the Barrett’s dining room and settled themselves at the wooden table in the center of the room.

 

“May I offer you folks some coffee or some iced tea?” Michelle asked.

 

“No, thank you,” Jordan declined.

 

“Nothing for me, thank you,” Bruce added.

 

“There was an English fellow here about a week ago looking for you,” Barrett replied.  “He worked for some Duke who was claiming to be your biological father.”

 

“Nicholas Ashton,” Jordan supplied.

 

“That’s him,” Barrett said. “I take it he found you.”

 

“In a manner of speaking,” Jordan allowed.  “We did undergo a DNA test, which confirmed that he is my birth father.”

 

“Wish he could have stepped up to the plate and admitted that 35 years ago,” Barrett responded bitterly, then flashed Jordan an apologetic smile.  “I’m sorry.”

 

“No need to be,” Jordan assured him.  “I had a few heated words for the Duke myself once our relationship was confirmed.  I’m just sorry that Joy didn’t live to see herself exonerated.”

 

“Joy was a firm believer in God’s will,” Barrett replied.  “Despite the anguish caused by her unexpected pregnancy and the Duke’s subsequent denial of paternity, she honestly felt that she was supposed to have her baby. A couple weeks before she went into labor, she said to me ‘Jimmy, this baby is going to be special and will grow up to do good things for this world’.”

 

Jordan smiled.  “Was she happy?”

 

“Happier than I would have been in her position,” Barrett answered.  “She took solace in helping animals.  There was always some sort of critter that Joy had to nurture and she always considered them her friends.”

 

“That has a familiar ring,” Bruce interjected dryly, casting an affectionate glance at his wife.

 

“Are you an animal lover, Mrs. Wayne?” Michelle asked.

 

“Very much so. I’m actually an evolutionary biologist and I study endangered species.”

 

“Well it would seem that you inherited more from Joy than just her blonde hair and pretty face,” Barrett remarked.  “She would be pleased that her child was helping animals.”

“I hope so,” Jordan responded sincerely.

 

“We were hoping you could tell us where your sister is buried, Mr. Barrett,” Bruce said.  “Jordan would like to visit the grave and pay her respects.”

 

”I’m afraid Joy doesn’t have a grave,” Barrett revealed sadly.  “At the time of her death, my parents couldn’t afford a funeral so they had her cremated.  My father told me that they scattered her ashes on the property belonging to the family they gave the baby to.”

 

Jordan covered her disappointment with another smile.  “Well there’s a certain irony in that,” she replied.  “My family’s farm is now an animal sanctuary.”

 

“Where did you grow up?” Michelle queried.

 

“I was raised on a farm in Smallville, Kansas,” Jordan told her.  “I have an older brother who was also adopted and our parents were wonderful people.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a pair of teenagers about seventeen, one girl and one boy, who were obviously fraternal twins. Both sported their father’s dark brown hair, but the girl’s eyes were green to her brother’s brown and he was about two inches taller. 

 

“Hi Mom,” the girl greeted.  “Hi Dad.”

 

“Hi, Amy,” Barrett returned.

 

“Who’s the babe?” her brother asked.

 

“David, where are your manners?” Michelle admonished.

 

“Her husband’s cute,” Amy observed.

 

Jordan and Bruce exchanged amused smiles at the kids’ remarks, while Michelle shook her head in silent exasperation as Barrett made the introductions.  “David, Amy, this is your cousin, Jordan and her husband, Bruce.”

 

“Cousin?” Amy echoed questioningly.

 

“We’ll explain later, honey,” Michelle told her.  “Right now I want you guys to go to your rooms and start your homework.”

 

Casting a final, curious glance at Jordan and Bruce, the twins did as instructed and headed for their rooms.  Once they were gone, Michelle gave Jordan and Bruce an apologetic smile.

 

“I’m sorry about that,” she said.

 

“No harm done,” Bruce responded.  “Although I’m fairly certain it’s been about 20 years since I have been called ‘cute’.”

 

“Well we have a long flight home so we’d better get going,” Jordan replied and the adults all stood up.  “Thank you both so much for inviting me into your home and being so gracious about answering my questions.”

 

“Thank you for making the trip out here and introducing yourself,” Barrett returned.  “Wherever she is, I’m sure Joy would be glad to know that the child she sacrificed her life for grew up happy and healthy.”

 

Jordan’s eyes welled with tears and she impulsively gave Barrett a warm hug.  “She was lucky to have you for a brother,” she said.

 

The group exchanged farewells and Jordan and Bruce exited the house. Once they were gone, the Barretts mused over their unexpected visitors.

 

“It’s a shame your parents didn’t live to meet Jordan,” Michelle said.  “It might have helped them come to terms with Joy’s death.”

 

“I’d like to think so,” James responded.  “But they were so angry and bitter that her baby took Joy away from them I don’t know if they would have ever accepted Jordan.”

 

“What about you?”

 

“I’m glad she came.  It was good to meet her, even so briefly. Joy would have been proud to call Jordan Wayne her daughter.”

 

Michelle smiled.  “You think so?”

 

 “I know so,” James said with a matching smile. “She’s intelligent, loves animals, seems happily married to a good man and she’s as beautiful as Joy would have been if she had lived to adulthood.  I think she and Joy would have been friends.”

 

Outside the Barrett house, Bruce posed a question to Jordan as they approached the rental car.

 

“Did you get the answers you were looking for?” he prompted.

 

“Yes I did,” Jordan answered.  “Now that I’ve confronted Ashton and met what’s left of Joy’s family, I think I can finally close the book on my mysterious past.”

 

“Actually, Princess, I don’t think you’re going to get complete closure until you make a final decision about Ashton.”

 

Jordan sighed.  “That’s something I’ll deal with when we get home,” she replied.

 

 

 

 

GOTHAM ZOO

 

Late in the afternoon following her trip to Nebraska, Jordan was back to work at the Gotham Zoo and finishing her rounds among the animals.  As she passed by the Grizzly habitat, she caught sight of the mother out in the yard wading in the small artificial pond as the cubs wrestled nearby.  Walking over to the guard rail, she watched them frolic for a few moments, glad to see the family was adjusting well to their temporary home.

 

“How are you doing, Denali?” she asked the mother bear.  “I hope you’re teaching those little ones proper Grizzly manners.”

 

“Their first lesson should be not to bite the hand that feeds them,” a familiar voice replied dryly from behind her.

 

Jordan turned around to see Bruce standing a couple of feet behind her, having obviously come from the office due to the tailored suit he was wearing. She gave him a warm smile as he came over to stand beside her and she linked her arm through his.

 

“Hi Handsome,” she greeted.  ”To what do I owe the honor of your presence?”

 

Bruce shrugged.  “It was a slow day at the office, so I left everything in Lucius’ capable hands and came over here to visit my favorite biologist,” he said.

 

“More likely you wanted to make sure I wasn’t off somewhere terrorizing more long lost relatives,” Jordan countered lightly.

 

“That too,” Bruce allowed with a smile and gestured at the bears.  “Is this the one you tangled with last week?”

 

“Yes. Her name is Denali and her little ones are McKinley and Summer.”

 

“The cubs are cute enough, but Mama Denali looks like she could eat Hero for lunch,” Bruce remarked.

 

“Actually Hero wouldn’t be very appetizing for her because he’s solid muscle,” Jordan clarified, purposely ignoring the slight against her dog. “Bears prefer prey with a bit more meat on them.”

 

“I stand corrected.”

 

They watched the bears in companionable silence for a few minutes before Jordan spoke again.

 

“So did you really come over here just to say hello or is there some new drama cropping up that we have to deal with?” she prompted.

 

“I really came over here just to say hello,” Bruce assured her.  “The last week has been such an emotional whirlwind that I decided we deserve to spend some time alone away from all of the distractions.”

 

“An intriguing proposition. What did you have in mind?”

 

“I thought we could have a quiet dinner on the yacht and take a short cruise. You always enjoy being out on the water.”

 

“That sounds wonderful, but I’m not exactly dressed for it,” Jordan pointed out, gesturing at her khaki zoo uniform.

 

“A problem that is easily rectified,” Bruce replied.  “Come with me.”

 

Taking his wife’s hand, Bruce started back through the zoo and eventually entered one of the gift shops with Jordan in tow.  Approaching the young girl behind the counter, he flashed her a friendly smile.

 

“Hi, Jenny,” he greeted.  “May I please have the packages I left with you a few minutes ago?”

 

Jenny reached under the counter and retrieved a shopping bag containing two boxes, which she handed to Bruce.  “Here you go, Mr. Wayne.”

 

“Thank you.” Bruce handed the bag to Jordan.  “Why don’t you go try these on?”

 

Jordan gave him a suspicious look as she accepted the bag.  “If there’s a t-shirt in here that says ‘Property of Bruce Wayne’ you’re toast,” she warned.

 

“I’ll take my chances,” Bruce responded lightly.

 

Jordan disappeared inside one of the small dressing rooms just as Bruce’s cell phone rang and he retrieved it from his suit pocket.  “Bruce Wayne.”

 

”I’ve secured the gift you acquired for Miss Jordan in the car, sir,” Alfred said.  “I’ll be waiting at the zoo gate when you’re ready to depart for the harbor.”

 

“Thank you, Alfred. We should be there in a few minutes.”

 

“Very good, sir.”

 

Bruce replaced his phone and waited expectantly for Jordan to change clothes.  She emerged from the dressing room a moment later wearing a dark purple silk dress and a pair of matching high heeled shoes.  Bruce smiled in approval of her appearance as Jenny let out an appreciative whistle.

 

“Wow…you look awesome, Dr. Wayne,” she remarked.

 

“Thank you, Jenny.”

 

“I trust the dress meets with your approval?” Bruce prompted.

 

“It’s beautiful,” Jordan confirmed.  “I’m curious as to how you managed to procure this dress when I know you’ve been at work since early this morning.”

 

“I’m a very resourceful man, Princess,” Bruce replied.  “A few phone calls to the right people at the right store and the outfit was delivered to my office this afternoon.”

 

“This was very sweet of you,” Jordan said with a smile and gave him a quick kiss. 

 

”Shall we go?”

 

“Lead the way.”

 

Bruce extended his arm and Jordan linked hers through it, then they bid farewell to Jenny and exited the gift shop.  As they made their way to the exit, Jordan released a small sigh.

 

“I’ve been thinking…” she began.

 

“That’s always dangerous,” Bruce interrupted wryly.

 

Jordan ignored the jibe.  “I’m going to pay a visit to Nicholas Ashton tomorrow and call a truce,” she revealed, earning her a surprised look from her husband.

 

“Really…what brought this on?” he questioned curiously.

 

“After my initial shock and anger over the discovery that he is my birth father wore off, I realized that it must have been even more difficult for him to track down a stranger and admit what he had done all those years ago.”

 

“You’re the one who had to live with the not knowing for 34 years, Jordan,” Bruce reminded her gently.  “I’m not unsympathetic to Ashton’s side of the story, but he made the choice to live most of his life without acknowledging you.  Alfred may not have been the ideal father, but at least he was man enough to own up to getting Elizabeth Ashton pregnant.”

 

“Alfred and Elizabeth were also both of legal age when it happened,” Jordan countered and released another sigh.  “I don’t want to rehash the same issues, Bruce, and I don’t have the energy to stay angry at him for the rest of my life.  If he was big enough to admit his mistakes with Joy Barrett and with Alfred, the least I can do is accept his apology.”

 

“If that is truly what you want, than I will stand by you 100%,” Bruce told her.

 

Jordan graced him with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

 

They at last reached the zoo exit and found Alfred standing beside the Rolls, waiting patiently for their arrival.

 

“Good afternoon, Miss Jordan,” Alfred greeted.  “You look lovely.”

 

“Thank you, Alfred,” Jordan responded with an affectionate smile

 

Alfred glanced at Bruce, who discreetly nodded, and the older man stepped to the back of the car and opened the door. Before Jordan could get in, a large bundle of black and white fur launched itself out of the car.

 

“What in the world?” Jordan muttered and knelt down to pick up the puppy.  “Oh, you are a big fellow, aren’t you?”

 

“You did say that I owed you a ‘big, slobbery dog’,” Bruce reminded her.  “This particular ball of fur is one of those new designer dogs that are apparently the new fad.  He’s a cross between a St. Bernard and Newfoundland, which are both large and slobbery.”

 

Jordan gave him a loving smile.  “I adore you,” she declared.  “I can’t believe you really remembered to get me another dog.”

 

“Neither can I,” Alfred muttered to himself wearily.

 

“Don’t worry about this guy, Alfred,” Jordan said.  “Hero and I will have him whipped into shape in no time.”

 

“I look forward to that with the greatest of anticipation, Miss Jordan,” Alfred declared solemnly.

 

Bruce smiled as they all climbed into the car.

 

 

 

 

GOTHAM HYATT

 

The following morning, a nervous Jordan arrived at Ashton’s hotel suite, belatedly wondering if she was making a mistake.

 

After I raked him over the coals the other day he may have decided that trying to reconcile with me isn’t worth the effort, she mused.

 

Steeling herself against the Duke’s possible negative reaction, Jordan knocked on the door and a moment later Billings swung it open, glancing away from her as he spoke.

 

“It’s about time…” he muttered impatiently.

 

“Excuse me?” Jordan prompted.

 

Billings swung his head to face her.  “Dr. Wayne…my apologies,” he replied.  “I thought you were the bellhop.”

 

“Is the Duke available?”

 

“Of course. Please come in.”

 

Billings gestured for her to enter and Jordan walked past him into the main room of the suite just as Ashton exited the bedroom.

 

“Robert, please tell me that was the…bellhop…”

 

The Duke’s voice trailed off as he saw Jordan and he gave her a small smile.

 

“Good morning, Jordan,” he greeted.  “This is a surprise.”

 

“A pleasant one, I hope,” Jordan returned.

 

“Of course.  Is your husband with you?”

 

“No; Bruce is working out of the house today,” Jordan told him.

 

“I’m glad he let you off your leash,” Billings mumbled under his breath.

 

“Robert!” Ashton admonished irritably. “Show some respect.”

 

Jordan permitted herself an amused smile.  “That’s quite all right, Your Grace,” she assured him.  “Bruce would be the first person to admit he is overprotective.”

 

“He said to me that he has reason to be,” Ashton recalled.  “I’m assuming that he was referring to more than just the excess male attention a beautiful woman such as yourself must receive.”

 

“Let’s just say we both have reason to be overprotective of each other,” Jordan evaded. 

 

“I’ll treat that as your polite way of telling me to mind my own business,” Ashton responded lightly. 

 

“That would be best.”

 

“What brings you here this morning, Jordan?” Ashton inquired.

 

“I’m here to apologize for the way I tore into you the other day,” Jordan answered and gave him a sheepish glance.  “I have a rather notorious temper and sometimes I get a little out of control before I remember to rein it in.”

 

“That must be your Scottish blood rearing its mercurial head,” Ashton remarked.  “My maternal grandmother was from Scotland and was known for her fiery temper.”

 

Jordan smiled.  “So that means I have you to thank for my short fuse as well as my blue eyes,” she remarked. 

 

Ashton smiled back.  “I’m afraid so,” he allowed.

 

“I am truly sorry for being so harsh with you when we met,” Jordan said sincerely.  “While I was understandably angry, that doesn’t compare to the guilt you have to carry for what you did, or rather didn’t do so long ago, and the indirect part that played in Joy Barrett’s death.”

 

“I will never know whether or not Joy might have survived childbirth if she and her family had the financial means for proper medical care,” Ashton responded sadly, regret evident in his expression.  “Even with today’s technology, a few women do still unfortunately die giving birth. But at the very least, if I had acknowledged being the father of her child, her parents would have had the means to give her a proper burial and arrange a formal adoption for you.” 

 

“The Barretts’ decision to abandon me on the front porch of the Kent farm set the course of my life in motion, so at least one good thing came out of the tragedy of Joy’s death,” Jordan remarked. 

 

“Are you happy, Jordan?” Ashton asked suddenly.  “I know I have no real right to ask, but I would like to know.”

 

His daughter gave him the first full fledged smile he had seen from her.  “I am happy beyond words,” she responded.  “I love my work and I am married to a man who is truly my soulmate. Bruce is a little rough around the edges, but underneath he has the gentlest heart I’ve ever known.”

 

“He seems like a good man,” Ashton agreed.  “Alfred did a fine job.”

 

“It’s very good of you to say so, Your Grace.”

 

Ashton smiled.  “Under the circumstances do you think you could drop the formality?” he prompted.  “Please call me Nicholas.”

 

“All right, Nicholas.”

 

“I hate to interrupt, Your Grace,” Billings interjected, “but we really must get to the airport.”

 

As if on cue, there was another knock at the door and Jordan glanced at Ashton.  “That must be your MIA bellhop,” she said.

 

“Thank you for coming here this morning, Jordan,” Ashton replied with a warm smile.  “I’m glad we had a chance to make amends.”

 

“So am I,” Jordan responded.  “Have a safe trip back to England, Your…Nicholas.”

 

“You and your husband are welcome to visit anytime,” Ashton offered.  “But please leave your black behemoth of a dog at home.”

 

Jordan shook her head.  “Like father, like son,” she muttered.

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Ashton stated.  “Be well, Jordan.”

 

“You too, Nicholas.”

 

Father and daughter exchanged a handshake before Jordan bid farewell to Billings and exited the room.  Once she was gone, Billings glanced at Ashton.

 

“Well color me surprised,” he quipped. “It would seem a leopard can change her spots.”

 

“I’m sure Jordan would appreciate your choice of analogy, Robert.” 

 

“Are you certain you don’t have any more illegitimate daughters running around in the world, Your Grace?” Billings pressed. “If any of them are like Dr. Wayne, I’ll marry her out of hand and give you enough grandchildren to make you blush.”

 

Ashton laughed.  “I understand the sentiment, old friend, but unless you want your life to come to a premature end I suggest you refrain from those kinds of comments in the presence of Bruce Wane.”

 

“I quite agree.”

 

 

 

 

WAYNE MANOR – FOUR MONTHS LATER

 

Returning home after a long day at the office, Bruce was looking forward to spending a quiet evening at home with his wife.  Alfred was out for the evening on a date with Leslie Thompkins and had given the staff the night off to allow Jordan and Bruce a rare opportunity to spend time alone.  As he wandered through the house, Bruce could hear Jordan’s muffled voice coming from the backyard and he made his way there to join her.  She was playing fetch with the dogs when he arrived and glanced over expectantly when she heard his approach.

 

“Hi, Handsome,” she greeted.

 

“Hi yourself,” Bruce returned. 

 

“How was work?” Jordan asked.

 

“Busy,” Bruce responded.  “I’m looking forward to spending a relaxing evening in the company of my beautiful wife.”

 

“Works for me.  Alfred had one of the cooks prepare a salad and some pasta before he left so you won’t have to choke down one of my sad attempts at cooking.”

 

“Remind me to give him a raise.”

 

The dogs came over to greet Bruce then, and Hero obediently sat down beside him to await attention while the puppy Jordan had dubbed Trouble fell into a wriggling mass at his feet.  As he reached over to pet them, Bruce glanced at Jordan.

 

“How come you don’t fall at my feet in a slobbering heap when I come home?” he asked dryly.

 

“I must have missed that part of the wedding vows,” Jordan quipped in return.  “If your keen mind isn’t too tired from your busy work day, I have a riddle for you.”

 

“I’m listening.”

 

“What do you get when you cross a pretty little farm girl from Kansas who has a temper that can draw blood, with an intelligent, handsome billionaire who has a slightly milder temper of his own?” Jordan inquired.

 

“A rich farmer with a high IQ who is prone to temper tantrums and looks good in a dress?” Bruce prompted drolly.

 

“No.  There are actually two possible answers: a boy, or a girl.”

 

Jordan’s tone was deceptively nonchalant so it took a moment for her remark to register.  As soon as it did, Bruce’s eyes widened in surprise.

 

“You’re pregnant?” he asked in a near whisper.

 

Jessica nodded.  “About ten weeks.”

 

Bruce shifted his gaze downward and ever so slowly extended one of his hands to place it on her still flat stomach.   “Is everything okay?”

 

“Everything is perfect,” Jordan assured him. ”I saw Dr. Talbot this afternoon and he says I should have no problems carrying the babies to term.”

Bruce lifted his gaze back to hers.  “Babies?” he echoed.

 

 

”I’m carrying twins,” Jordan revealed with a delighted smile.

 

“We’re really going to be parents,” Bruce said in wonderment.

 

Jordan gently placed her palm against his cheek. “Yes, we are.”

 

 

 

 

************************************************************

 

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

Six and a half months later the following announcement appeared in the Gotham Herald:

 

“First time parenthood is twice as nice for Gotham’s own reformed playboy Bruce Wayne.  The billionaire industrialist and his wife, Dr. Jordan Wayne of PEACE Corporation, welcomed their first children early Friday morning.  Fraternal twins Evan Alfred and Kaya Martha entered the world about two and half minutes apart, weighing in at 5 lbs. 2 oz. and 4 lbs. 8 oz. respectively, following a relatively easy labor for their mother.  No word yet on whether or not Dr. Wayne’s infamous furry children, the oversized family dogs Hero and Trouble, will be recruited for babysitting duties.”

 

 

 

 

Finis.