Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Reports of my life as well. But I have little interest in setting the record straight. I don't see the point, and who would care anyway? Having all the facts, knowing all the small details, doesn't mean you have the truth. It doesn't matter that you understand what's happened, what's happening now. There are always secrets being kept, deceptions both large and small, guarded well behind doors or dark windows, or in the fathomless depths of the heart. Some secrets aren't known to anyone, not even the one who's keeping them. And no one can predict the future, no matter what they've learned. You can play the odds, of course, and come up with lucky guesses, but even if you get it all right, you can still end up losing everything. Knowledge is power, but power can be painful. No one understands this better than a hero.
I was one person, but I was also two. Mary and me. Me and Mary B. We lived together. We occupied the same space at the same time. We traded off, though we never traded anything essentially new. Just circumstances. Our purposes were different yet related to the same goal. Sometimes I felt sorry for Mary B, but most of the time I didn't. Most of the time I envied her, because she was the one with the comparatively normal life, she was the one rarely in harm's way. The one with the choices, all the opportunities for love and growth. She was the one born in the world, and she would be the one who died. She wasn't immortal. She had a beginning, she was living in the middle, and eventually she would come to an end. I had no beginning and would probably never end. Like God, I would just continue to live and live and live. And I wasn't allowed to fail.
Mary B seldom thought about these kinds of things. She just went on about her business, moving in the sunlight and breeze of the human world, sunglasses perched on top of her head, a young and healthy smile on her face.
And me, floating in limbo above her shoulder, like an invisible bird, watching her every move.
She was seeing Nightwing again. I didn't know what her motivation was, whether she was after love or money or adventure or just hot sex; we shared the same space but our minds were closed to each other unless we chose to communicate, and Mary B wasn't really inclined to confide in me. That was alright, though, I got to watch everything, even though she often told me how much it bothered her. Like I could do anything about that.
She used her key card at the front entrance of Titans Tower and walked through an empty and unadorned lobby to an elevator. She pushed the up arrow and waited, chewing her gum and blowing bubbles and seeming almost zenlike in her calmness.
Finally the bell pinged and the doors slid open. She went in, pressed the button for the twentieth floor, and waited again. The mirrored doors closed, and in them I could see her reflection. She looked just like me of course (one of us was made in the other's image); her long fine brown hair was parted in the middle and fell straight onto her shoulders and down her back. Her features were soft and youthful; she looked like she was only fifteen, though she was twenty-two now. She had high cheekbones, a small nose and full pouty lips. Her eyes were green and small. Her body was splendid, slim and curvy everywhere, long legs, tiny feet. Her breasts were small, but round and firm. She was wearing her light pink blouse today, very innocent, with bluejeans that were just snug enough to not be innocent. She was a lovely girl, even if I did say so myself.
The elevator stopped at the twentieth floor and she walked out into the hallway, turned left and went past several closed and unmarked doors, popping bubbles of gum as she went. She stopped at a door near the end of the hallway, pressed a button next to it, and waited with her hands clasped together in front of her. A few moments later the door opened and Dick Grayson, Nightwing without his costume, greeted her.
"Hey, Mary," he said, smiling. "Come on in." Mary entered his apartment, slowed her stride as she passed him so he could kiss her cheek, then continued on into his living room. She sat on the sofa and waited as Dick went into the kitchen. Dick's place was sparsely furnished; just the sofa and a coffee table, and a massive entertainment center against the wall. But there were plants everywhere, and the walls were covered with framed posters of motorcycles. The window that looked out on the city was huge and let in a lot of light. Quite a different atmosphere, I thought, than one would expect from someone named Nighwing.
Dick came into the living room carrying two glasses of wine. He handed Mary one then sat down next to her, asked her how she was doing.
"I'm alright," Mary B said. She sipped some of her wine. "I've only got one quarter left and I'll be graduating. Finally. I will be so glad when that's over with." "What are you going to do then?" Dick asked. He put his arm around her shoulders, indicating, to me at least, that he didn't really give a shit what she was going to do.
"I think I'll stay with the internship," Mary said. "I don't need it anymore, but it's a fun job. I like it. And I get to hang around with Billy." The mention of her brother's name would have sent a jolt of yearning through my body if I had one. I love Billy.
"Sounds like you've got it all together," Dick said.
"Yeah," Mary replied, "as much as the alter ego of a superslut can have it all together." Hey, I said, watch that, Mary B.
Sorry, she thought to me.
She could be a jealous little bitch sometimes.
"So, what have you been doing?" Mary asked.
"Same old stuff," Dick replied. He was playing with her hair now, his wine glass sitting on the coffee table, ignored. "Catching criminals, talking with Bruce about the sociology of crime and the imminent ruin of civilization. And missing you." He kissed her cheek, kissed her again, then got her on the lips.
Mary tried to set her wine on the table but Dick had her pinned and she couldn't quite reach, so she turned her face away and drained the glass as he nibbled on her neck, then tossed it on the floor. She turned back to Dick and they were suddenly (and so predictably) locked in a passionate embrace.
Dick guided her down onto her back and Mary B's denimclad legs opened automatically, like she was spring loaded or something. Dick settled himself between them.
They made out for about ten minutes, kissing and fondling, licking earlobes and lips, dry humping and breathing heavily. I only found it slightly interesting. After all, they still had all their clothes on.
Then Dick finally made his move. He'd had his hands all over Mary's breasts, and now he moved them up to the top button of her blouse. He unfastened it, then made his way down, pulling her blouse open as he went, revealing her pale white skin. Her bra was as pink as her shirt, and lacey.
Pretty. The clasp was conveniently located in the front, and Dick deftly unhooked that too, pulled the cups away. Mary B's milky breasts lay on top of her chest like little baseballs, topped with hard pink little nipples.
Dick went at them, squeezing and kissing and sucking, and Mary B moaned and sighed as she played with his hair.
If I had a body, or at the very least, a cunt, I would have been dying from ungratified desire. In other words, I would have been horny. Too bad there were no villains around threatening to destroy the world.
Dick reached for the button on her jeans and Mary said, "Let's go into the bedroom, okay?" "Sure, sweetie," Dick said. He got up from the sofa, helped Mary B up, and led her into his room. It too was populated with plants and sunlight and the bare minimum of furniture. Dick turned down the covers, then undressed.
I watched, of course, and enjoyed the show. He was muscular, with some serious definition and no body hair. Except for the dark bush of pubic hair that rested at the base of a remarkably long cock. Wow. Mary B sure could handle a lot for such a small girl.
Dick crawled onto the bed and Mary, naked too, joined him. They embraced, kissing and touching again, rolling around, threatening to make me dizzy. Then Dick lay on his back and Mary B leaned over his stomach and started giving him head. Although from my spectral vantage point I couldn't actually see what she was doing, I knew she was good at it. I'd been watching her have sex since she was fifteen, and she'd satisfied a good number of boys and men. Not a shocking number, but still the girl had experience, and Dick Grayson was currently getting the benefit. And enjoying it too, if the moans I heard didn't mean that he was having a stroke.
After what seemed like a much too generous amount of time, Mary B stopped and lay down next to him. Dick immediately rolled over on top of her, kissing her chest as he fumbled with himself down below. I could see the individual follicles of his dark hair as Mary B cried out in pleasure. He was inside her now, fucking her, Mary B was caressing his back, moaning, gasping out obscene words. Dick too made noise, masculine grunts that I'd never found attractive. But I was able to ignore them as I watched him doing Mary B, giving it to her hard. She came twice before Dick finally pushed himself into her one last time and groaned with his own orgasm.
I'd seen Mary getting laid hundreds of times but never got tired of it.
If I was real at that moment I would have had a cigarette.
Dick and Mary B collapsed together on the bed and I mentally prepared for a few hours of boredom while they slept, but they were only laying there for about five minutes when the emergency light near the door began blinking and the alarm beeped. Dick got up and threw his closet door open. He pulled one of his spare costumes out and began putting it on. Mary B got up on her elbows and looked at the blinking alarm.
"Shit," she said.
Wrong word, hon, I told my human alter ego.
No way, she thought back, I'm going back to sleep.
You know you can't do that, Mary B. You gotta let me out.
Mary sighed and said, "Sometimes I really hate this crap." Come on, naked girl, say it.
"Fucking Shazam."
Being superpowered tends to make normal human modes of operation look pitiful and inadequate. Like driving cars and climbing stairs, using forklifts or cranes. And taking the elevator. Why should I bother doing that when I could just fly up through the ceiling? But that would have gotten everyone upset. So I followed Nightwing to the elevator and waited with him as we went up to the top floor of Titans Tower. This time I saw my own reflection in the mirrored doors: Mary B in a red and gold dress that could only be considered skimpy by standards that were about seventy years old. I had nice legs, though.
Nightwing and I didn't say anything to each other, in part because we didn't really know each other, but mostly because we were focused on the situation. Combat loomed, and we wanted to keep our minds uncluttered.
Life, for the moment, was just a distraction.
The elevator doors opened and I followed Nighwing into the situation room. Donna Troy, Wonder Girl, was waiting for us.
"Where's everyone else?" Nightwing asked. He was the leader of the Titans even though he had no super powers. I'd thought this was unusual at first, but I'd seen him in battle many times now and the arrangement made sense; he had a natural leadership ability, the courage to make life and death decisions, and a commanding presence that made even me want to follow him. He'd asked me once to join the Titans but I refused; I didn't doubt that I would have been an asset to the team, but I believed his motivations were more personal than professional, and that was before he and Mary B had started rubbing tummies.
"Unavailable," Wonder Girl replied. "We won't need them anyway. It's a low level crisis." Cool, Mary B told me. Let me out of here.
I ignored her, focusing on Wonder Girl.
She looked great. She wore her skintight red jumpsuit with the little gold stars all over it, and black calf high boots. She was slim like me, but her breasts were huge, and because the neckline of her costume fell in a V all the way to her sternum she always looked like she was going to fall out of her clothes. This was a useful feature when fighting men because it tended to make them less attentive to the battle. I felt a pang of jealousy; my own outfit looked puritanical next to hers.
But what did any of this have to do with the mission? "Someone named Daystar," Wonder Girl said. "He must be new because I've never heard of him before. Apparently fires flames from his hands. Used his powers to rob a bank and he's on the run now." "Where is he?" Nightwing asked.
The two of them stepped over to a computer console with a screen. Wonder Girl pointed to the screen. She had dark red polish on her nails.
"Somewhere in this area here," she said. "A special heat tracking satellite has been able to isolate his signature but not his exact location." Special heat tracking satellite? Mary B asked. You sure that blip on there isn't me about fifteen minutes ago? Hush, I thought.
"Let's get over there, then," Nightwing said. He looked at me. "You coming along?" No! Mary B shouted in my brain.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," I said.
The mission turned out to be relatively quick and easy. We flew out to the villain's location, some run down neighborhood on the south side of the city. Wonder Girl towed Nightwing along, holding him by the wrist, and I flew next to them. When Nightwing found the area where the heat signature was he pulled out a small pair of binoculars from some place inside his costume and scanned below us. He only looked for a few moments before pointing and saying, "Right there. You see him?" "Yes," Wonder Girl said. I did too.
"Drop me on top of him," Nightwing said. "Come in from behind." We flew down to where Daystar was just entering an alley. He was easy to see, wearing a bright yellow costume. Wonder Girl swooped in behind him and let go of Nighwing's hand. He sailed through the air and struk Daystar in the middle of the back. Both of them went tumbling along the concrete and into a stack of empty boxes, spilling them everywhere. Nightwing was the first one to his feet. Daystar, still on his stomach, shot a blast of fire which Nightwing effortlessly avoided. I landed right behind the villain and smacked him on the head, knocking him out. Easy job.
The police arrived and Nightwing spoke to them, filling them in on what had happened. Wonder Girl and I flew up to the top of an apartment building and stood side by side looking out at the city. Just killing time.
"Wasn't much of a fight, was it?" Wonder Girl asked.
"No," I replied. "It was kind of disappointing. I like to kick ass but I don't always want it to be a cinch." "Tell me about it. I get all worked up for a nice nasty brawl and nothing happens." She touched my hand. "All that stored up energy doesn't get released. Leaves me feeling kind of unsatisfied. Know what I mean?" She took my hand in hers and gently squeezed.
"Oh sure," I said, "I know just what you mean." Wonder Girl fixed me with her dark eyes.
"Do you?" she asked.
"Well," I said, "I may be a demigoddess but I'm fairly normal as far as human feelings go." "That's not what I'm talking about." Wonder Girl moved closer to me. Her small babygirl nose was almost near enough to touch mine. She was still holding my hand, caressing it now. Her other hand came around my waist and she pulled me even closer, pressing her generous breasts against me.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, though it was obvious.
"Stored up energy," she said, her voice soft and sirenic. "Stored up passion....unsatisfied desire....secret longing....maybe even love." She pressed her lips against mine. They were so warm and soft. I could feel her breath against my cheek as she kissed me and I was surprised at how much I liked it. I'd never kissed a girl before, had always thought I would find it unpleasant or even revolting (Mary B despised lesbians, though now she was silent for some reason), but this was nice. I returned Wonder Girl's kiss, curious about where this might lead, how far she wanted to take it.
Her tongue flicked against my lips and I opened my mouth. She slipped her tongue inside and at the same time slid her arms around me. Her hands caressed my back for a moment before moving down over my ass. We continued to kiss, Wonder Girl pushing her tongue deep into my mouth. I found myself touching her body, bringing my hands up to her breasts. I wasn't sure about what I wanted to do, or what I should be doing, so I just pressed my palms against them, held them gently. Wonder Girl's hands went under my skirt, one feeling my ass as the other moved around to the front. Her fingers caressed the inner part of my thigh and I felt a sudden heat growing between my legs.
"Sorry, girls," Nighwing said.
Wonder Girl and I broke our kiss and looked at him. I didn't know about her but I was surprised and embarrassed. I removed my hands from her breasts.
"I don't mean to interrupt," Nightwing continued, "but it's time to go." "You want to come back with me?" Wonder Girl asked as she let go of me.
"Um, no," I said, stepping back. "I have something I need to do." Wonder Girl didn't bother to hide her disappointment so I said, "But I can come visit you another time." Wonder Girl smiled, happy again.
"That would be great," she said. She kissed me quickly on the lips, then took Nightwing's hand, waved at me, and rose up into the sky. I watched them go, let them dwindle to a dot in the bright blue afternoon before I also took to the air.
I flew across the city, luxuriating in the wind and sunlight, my mind relaxed and untroubled, at least for the moment. Then Mary B spoke up.
You really had me fooled, Mary M.
What do you mean, I replied.
Well, all this time I thought you were normal but it turns out that you're about as normal as an honest politician.
I still don't know what you mean. I did, but I wasn't going to make it that easy for her.
Oh come on. That little love scene back there with Wonder Dyke.
It was just a kiss, Mary B.
Yeah, sure, Mary B replied. She sounded happy, which didn't make sense to me at first. You know what you should do? Look up Catwoman. Barbara Gordon told me she's got nine lives and they're all queer.
I'm not gay, I thought, and neither is Wonder Girl.
Okay then, what was that back there? A tonsil check? Measuring her bra size using the Braille method? No, Mary B. You want to know what that was? Sure, lay it on me.
It was loneliness, I told her.
I was about a block from Billy's place, a Downtown high rise overlooking the bay, when Mary B asked me, You're going to see him again, aren't you? Of course I am, I replied. I love him.
You sure you don't wanna be a dyke? I'd like that better.
It dawned on me then, why she'd sounded happy when she thought I was gay, and I told her I was sorry.
I landed on the fire escape outside of Billy's window. It was open and I climbed through. His apartment was small but comfortable, with plenty of furniture and no plants anywhere. I felt better here than I did in Nightwing's spacious and sterile place. I crossed through the living room, checked in the kitchen, then went to his bedroom. I found him laying on his bed with his eyes closed, listening to soft jazz music on his stereo. I stopped in the doorway and waited for him to notice that I was there.
He's sleeping, Mary B told me. We should just go.
He's not sleeping, I thought.
Let's go anyway.
Shut up, now, Mary B, or I'll wait until he's fucking me and say Shazam.
Shutting up now.
Billy finally opened his eyes and saw me in the doorway. I smiled and said hi.
"Hey," he said. "I was wondering when you were going to get here." "I went on a mission with the Titans," I said.
"Mm." Billy sat up and held his hand out to me. I went to him, took his hand and sat with him.
"Well," he said, "you look like you came through alright." He put his hand behind my neck and kissed me. All at once I felt the tension leaving my body. Bill embraced me and I went limp in his arms. He pulled me down onto the bed, rolled me over onto my back. We kissed as his hands traveled over my body. He pulled the top of my dress down and kissed my breasts as he touched me between my legs.
Billy was finely muscled and strong, in that respect he was a lot like Dick Grayson, but he wasn't a superpowered man and I had to remind myself, especially in these kinds of moments, to hold back, to control my responses.
My main reason was simply not to hurt him by squeezing him too tightly, but there were other reasons too, the most important of which was to avoid harming his ego. Like most men of his type and personality, Billy chose women who were stronger and more confident than himself, but also like those other men, he didn't want to be made aware of his inferiorities. So, like most women, superhuman and otherwise, I had to contain myself when I could.
As a consequence of all that our lovemaking tended to be a bit subdued, or at least not as passionate and animated as Mary B's and Dick's sexual adventures. Still, we were happy together, we found a lot of pleasure in each other's bodies, and there was never any doubt in our minds that what we had was love.
When Billy was inside me I felt as if I no longer existed in the realities I'd always know, not in the human reality or the limbo beyond, but some other place altogether, a place that was fresh and brilliant and sweet each time I found myself there. A realm inhabited not by lovers or poets or even superheroes, but by new and modern gods. I understood that this way of experiencing love and sex was mostly a product of my mind and heart, but it rarely failed to transform itself into a powerful physical response that I shared with Billy as much as he shared himself with me.
Mary B and I were alike in many ways, some of them mental and emotional, but most of them physical; I looked just like her, I had the same body and the same voice, the same laugh, the same way of catching my breath and letting it out slowly when I came. I didn't think that these similarities were lost on Billy, but I never asked him what he thought about them. I chose to accept things the way they were and to be grateful for his love, whatever its motivations. I was an immortal; holding resentments and jealousies only made eternity that much longer.
Mary B, though, believed she could afford such luxuries. Billy and I had just finished making love, we hadn't even had the chance to settle into the afterglow before she made the same observation she always made.
That, she told me, was the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. As soon as we trade places I'm killing myself.
Oh stop it, I replied. You don't mind this as much as you want me to think.
Oh sick, you are so sick, Mary M.
I caressed Billy's back and kissed his hard smooth shoulder, too content for the moment to argue.
I flew through the early evening, up and away from Billy's apartment, away from the city, away from the planet. Mary B had been silent for some time. I suspected she was letting the strange arrangements of her life make her sad and I wanted to do something to cheer her up, to give her a gift that no one else could give her. So I flew up into the night, through the stratosphere, beyond the rim of the world and out into space. I soared past the moon, past Mars and Jupiter, Saturn and Neptune and Pluto, far out into the universe. I'd taken her on trips like this before and they never failed to lighten her metaphysical mood. Mary B adored the stars.
I flew beyond the Milky Way, past other galaxies, other suns and spinning planets, out to a cluster of dwarf stars that had no name and would never be found by the Earth's astronomers. They glowed and blinked, white and pink and blue in the darkness of space, burned with a glittering intensity that would damage any human eyes. I let Mary B see them, let her ooh and aah over them like a young girl on Christmas morning.
Wow, she told me, they're so beautiful, Mary M. I can't believe it...I don't know what to say. Thank you.
You're welcome, I thought.
I stayed near those dwarf stars for a long time, waited patiently for Mary B to decide she was ready to go home. I was glad to do it. I felt it was a fair exchange; after all, she'd given me the opportunity, however reluctantly, to experience the pleasures of human love. The least I could do was show her what it meant to live forever. Show her what awaited her when she finally left her body behind and became like me. And to remind myself that despite the adversities inherent in being a hero, it, like human life, had its own special satisfactions.