red-dye-number-five prompted: The Wayne-family & the Kent-family spending time together.

I kinda sucked at keeping to this prompt but WHATEV'S. I need happy Clark right now. And happy Super and Bat families. AND EXCUSE YOU, CANON, I ASSURE YOU THAT CHRIS DIDN'T GO BACK TO THE PHANTOM ZONE, SHUDDUP I WON'T LISTEN EVER

Superman and related characters © DC Comics
story © RenaRoo

It's a Good Life

Birthday parties were never really a big deal for Clark. It was always too much of a hassle on Ma and Pa, which made his instinctive guilt over the situation flare up no matter how much fun it was to have Pete and Lana and the rest of his class over at the farm for lemonade and cake.

It wasn't like Clark Kent as a journalist had earned enough of a following at the Daily Planet to earn him a surprise party with his colleagues, though he had organized a few for Lois to her everlasting dismay.

But spending time with Ma and Pa on the day that meant so much to them - when they became an inseparable family together - felt good. He enjoyed that.

And, yes, he enjoyed just a little bit having everyone hand him lead-lined presents for a bit of sport.

He just wishes he knew why Lois insisted on them driving this year.

"Stop fidgeting, Clark," Lois commands without ever taking her eyes off the narrow Kansas road. "It's a rental and you're going to tap your foot right through the floor."

"I'd never," he jokes, trying to adjust the seat so he can lean back comfortably. "Are you sure you're not tire-"

"If I have to say 'no, Birthday Boy' one more time, Clark, we're going to have marital issues," Lois cuts him off, but her knowing smirk is there.

He frowns leans a little more forward. "You know something."

She maintains the look - straight ahead, directed at the Kansas plains.

Clark studies her for a moment before leaning back and looking to the backseat where Chris is sprawled asleep - his snoring far too hard to be natural. Smirking, Clark reaches over and shakes his son's knee lightly. "Chris. I know you're awake."

Chris opens one eye cautiously, still forcing a snore.

"What do you know? C'mon, you can tell me."

That gets the younger Kryptonian to open his eyes fully and slowly look to the rearview mirror. Clark also sees how Lois looks into it and quirks one eyebrow at their boy.

"Nope."

Clark sighs and settles back into his seat. "You both are going to be the death of me."

"Start shaking the car again and I can guarantee it, Smallville," Lois responds, earning some giggles from Chris.

What starts out as high suspicion develops into full paranoia when Ma isn't sitting on the porch waiting as they pull up. Clark keeps looking to Lois only to be severely disappointed by her knowing smirk and pointed avoidance of his looks.

Clark idly wonders how, despite his continued need for it, telepathy has never quite developed.

Chris' bouncing out of the vehicle and immediate flight into the farmhouse should be enough to make Clark certain that it's a surprise worth taking in stride… but he's always been terrible at accepting surprises.

He steps out of the rental and prepares to use his X-ray vision on his parents' farmhouse when Lois slaps her hands over his eyes - sheet of lead foil now covering them.

"Lois!" he gets out.

"I'll lead you by hand, and you will not be peaking," she warns, putting that tiniest bit more pressure on the foil before taking one of his hands in her's. "You're such a child sometimes, Clark."

He smirks as he allows her to pull him forward. "You must bring it out in me."

She purposefully lets him stumble on the first step, testing how well her foil is holding up most likely, and barely hides her laugh when he falls for it. She guides him into the farmhouse he grew up in.

"Now, before you're disappointed, Diana and J'onn send their apologies - but they're covering the League stuff for you for the day," Lois explains as she shuts the door.

Clark isn't really sure who that leaves that would come all the way to Smallville for something as small and petty as a "surprise" birthday party, but he nods. "Okay."

"Alright," Lois says, taking down her hand and the foil alike to a room filled with the Kents and Waynes - all of them, extended or not - in the living room. "Happy Birthday, honey."

"Happy Birthday, Clark!"

Clark steps back in surprise, smile ear to ear. "What? Really?"

Bruce takes a breath, mouth a straight line. He's standing in the back, but it's the greatest thing Clark could have ever asked for because he's wearing a birthday hat.

"I didn't say a thing! I didn't let you know a thing!" Chris yells excitedly, feet off the ground after a joyous leap. "I kept a secret from you, Pa Clark!"

"You sure did!" Clark laughs as he pulls his son into his arms. "What is this- all you din't have to come out here!"

"Sure we did!" Dick calls as he comes over and hugs Clark and Chris together, laughing. "And don't let Mr. Grumpy fool you. He heard Ma was cooking and I bet even Alfred couldn't have kept him back!"

Clark feels so full and appreciative, he doesn't even know what to say. But Dick has a point. The smell from the kitchen is intoxicating.

He has been suggesting, for a very long time, that their families desperately needed recreational time together outside of costumes, but Clark has been sure for just as long that Bruce hasn't paid him any mind.

So it's something different, sitting at the old picnic table Pa had gotten for a family reunion decades ago, his best friend sitting not far off with his impeccable clothes so out of place in the likes of Smallville.

Lois, always a reporter no matter the occasion, is taking Bruce's stoicism as a direct challenge and works to pry some sort of information from him about the turbulent social gossip of Gotham or get a pulse on the politics of a Fortune 500. Bruce is actually engaged, though, arms crossed defiantly and cockily smiling as he deflects her questions.

Still, it's 'business' and Clark's more interested in the children playing - or, at least, in how Dick Grayson is attempting desperately to make his siblings behave like actual children on a farm with a dog that can fly and shoot from his eyes.

It looks like more tiresome work than Clark thinks the boy gets credit for.

That makes Clark remember his own brood to be concerned with and he quickly scans the yard and sees Kara berating the youngest - though Bruce's youngest son merely looks defiant while Chris looks terrified - and then…

Conner is on his phone.

He's speaking to Tim, at least, as the two sit by the barn - tossing things occasionally for a petulant looking Krypto, at least - but they're both absorbed with their phones. And Clark has been learning, mostly through interactions with Jimmy, that this is a new pet peeve he has.

"Unbelievable," he sighs before, in the corner of his eye, seeing Cassandra hovering between the younger generations and picnic area where the adults are. Not jumping into the socialization game.

The more he sees of her, the more Clark understands why exactly Bruce and this girl get along so famously.

"Hey, Cassandra," he says, loud enough to get her attention but soft enough to not cause alarm.

She blinks owlishly before looking to him. She smiles after a moment. "Happy Birthday."

"Oh, well, thank you," Clark returns with a laugh. "But, ah… I was wondering if maybe you wouldn't mind doing me a favor?"

Cass hesitates, looking a little more uncertain before she nods.

In return, Clark nods his head toward the barn and the two bumps on a log currently commanding his attention. "Those two will spend the rest of the day wasted on their phones if someone doesn't stop them." He smirks at her. "You wouldn't happen to know a someone who could stop them, would you?"

Immediately, Cass' face drops into a sly smile and she looks toward her brother and his friend before, faster than Clark could have expected, she slips off and disappears from casual glance.

Clark smiles and reaches for his lemonade, watches as Krypto lumbers over for a head rub, and then-

"Hey, what the-"

"Where's my phone-"

The teenage boys are up, searching desperately around the hay bale they were sitting by and seemingly oblivious to the attention they're drawing. It is less than a minute into this that Conner decides the only logical course of action is lift the entire bench and hay bale above their heads.

"This isn't funny, Tim!"

"Why are you blaming me?"

"That's such a Bat-thing-"

The bickering goes on and the other kids gravitate closer, if for no other reason than mocking purposes. And so far no one has taken notice of how there is only one of their group not accounted for.

Clark does, of course, and he only needs to look up to see Cass, smiling as she's laid flat on her stomach on the top of the barn. Her right hand twirling one of the missing devices.

For a brief moment Clark hopes it's Tim's phone instead of Kon's, because breaking it would be less of a headache in the long run if it belonged to a stockholder to Wayne Enterprises.

"Are you instigating things for your amusement?" Lois asks, tubing on his sleeve. "Is this middle aged crankiness coming out of you?"

"Not entirely," Clark laughs. "I just wanted the boys off their phones. I believe Cassandra got creative."

"She does that," Bruce comments before taking a drink.

Apparently Conner had been listening, however, and immediately flies up looking around erratically before seeing Cass on the roof. She waves at him.

There's an almost audible crack when Kon takes off at super speed to head the former Batgirl off. It would be more worrisome if Clark isn't sure he can repair any damages to the barn should they get to that point.

Kara, Clark decides, has spent a little too much time with Nightwing, as that's the only one of her many many mentors he can think of that would have inspired the smothering of hugs he is getting today from her. It's a thought that's perpetuated when he sees how the two are so good at carrying conversation together when they're not wrangling in the exuberance of their respective family members.

Still, as good as the two have been at managing the flocks, Clark sees someone missing.

"Hold on a moment, Bruce," Clark says, stretching his neck to look over to the eldest 'children' in the crowd of Kents and Waynes. "Kara, where's Chris?"

Whirling around, Kara looks at Clark a bit bewildered before the question registers and she looks over to the house with a grin. "Oh! Here he is!"

As Ma comes out from the side door, Chris is hovering - quite literally - just over her shoulder. He's anxious, biting his bottom lip until its white and looking nervously at the large cake she's carrying on her own, apparently in complete refusal of the help from the boy with super strength.

At a longer distance trailing behind them is a pouting Damian Wayne, who is irritated to the point of huffing and crossing his arms.

One glance over to Bruce makes Clark privy to his friend's most harsh parenting face - raised brows in warning with a definite downturn at the corners of his mouth. It would be terrifying for a child to receive.

If Damian Wayne couldn't replicate it with just that much more sass.

Clark smiles and bemoans his friend's future with the boy's teen years. Difficult as handling Chris' powers can be, the boy gets along right as rain with Clark and Lois. For now.

(He may waste his wish this year on Chris not learning any 'tricks' from his budding friendship with Damian.)

Ma sets the cake on the table and everyone closes in to circle around Clark - who can feel the reddening of his cheeks already. Chris drops from above to plant himself right in Clark's lap, looking up at his adopted father with complete amusement.

This bunch singing Happy Birthday is a sad sight. And it's the most beautiful thing Clark has ever heard.

The sun's setting and Clark's putting on his suit in his room - Chris wants to see the sun set on the entire planet, and Clark loves the sight himself. Spending such a moment with his son seems like the greatest way to end this beautiful birthday.

He waited until the Waynes were loading up to make it back to the Airport and get to Gotham, which is why he's mildly surprised when there's a knock and Bruce lets himself in.

Apparently knocking is more a warning than a request when you're Batman.

"Aren't you out of Kansas yet?" Clark jokes. "You might be the only man in the county with steel blue dress pants, by the way. It could make you a target for criminals at the airport."

"I'm traveling in a group," Bruce says lightly, for him. "Odds are in my favor. I hear the criminal element is a superstitious, cowardly lot."

Clark laughs and looks over to his old friend. "We're family men."

"It's hard not to notice," Bruce says, almost thoughtfully.

Which may be the first time he has not outright denied the statement. It's progress, or something akin to it.

"It… makes things worth it, don't you think?" Clark continues, looking at himself in the mirror. "I used to not really wonder about what would happen when I was gone. I mean. I wondered about Lois. Ma… Pa, when he was still around, God bless him. But… not about what would happen to Superman."

Bruce stands quietly, eyes set on Clark yet still seeming so distant.

"Then we got Kon in our lives, and I thought… Well, I guess he's Superman. But he's Superman for the people - which is what matters," Clark struggles to gather his thoughts, sitting on the edge of his old bed. "But he's never been much interested in preserving Krypton. I started to worry about that. Then Kara comes, and not only is that a huge concern we share, but she lived that history and culture in a way I never could. She's corrected so many things, advanced so much of our equipment in the Fortress… It's been a real burden off of my shoulders."

Clark lets out a huff of a laugh, runs his hand through his hair. "Then… Lois and I, as a family, we were happy but… I thought there was something missing. Not a legacy just… a future. Something more than us - something that would survive the both of us and be something we both brought into this world, I guess. Equally. Superman was safe. Krypton was safe… but Lois and Clark? I didn't know if that'd have the save lineage. … Chris… Chris has changed a lot of that. I think… I think becoming a father has made me understand you so much more, Bruce."

That seems to awaken Bruce from his passive listening and he cocks his head to the side. "Oh?"

"I used to think those kids - and I always knew you loved them, don't get me wrong - but I used to think that sometimes you treated them like heirs somehow. Like test runs. But… no. I see it now. I see it when you look at them," Clark smiles. "I recognize it as well as I recognize it in the mirror. They're your kids. And you're just… scared and hopeful and proud all at the same time. I don't think any of us know what we're doing."

Bruce looks at him for a moment before smirking. "I don't know what you mean. You're getting soft in your old age, Kent."

"Probably," Clark admits, intwining his fingers as he looks to his lap. "Ah, well. Part of getting old, I guess. I'll take it."

He feels Bruce's hand on his shoulder and looks up to see a genuine smile - small and soft but sure.

"Happy Birthday, Clark."

"Thanks, Bruce."