Author's Note: I'm still working on Rosy-Fingered Dawn (expect another chapter before Christmas), but my muse got distracted by this little plot bunny courtesy of my friend kateydidnt. It does contain some spoilers for Justice League, but mostly it's just fluff and fun. Hope you enjoy!

Martha hung up the phone and smiled out the living room window at the motley group on her front lawn. It was still hard to believe that Clark was alive again, still hard to believe she had the old farm back. But if she could believe those things, it wasn't too difficult to wrap her mind around the rest, although the part about that tattooed frat boy being a merman was probably the biggest stretch. Even the flying half-man, half-robot had been perfectly polite and Martha was able to not stare at his mechanical eye after only a minute or two.

The furniture was all in place again, the kitchen was mostly unpacked, and the moving truck was just pulling out of her driveway. She could see the men and women on the lawn shaking hands, getting ready to part ways, but she couldn't have them leave just yet. Not when she had just called in an order for eight pizzas to be delivered.

She went outside and hurried down the front steps. The...Cyborg had gone a pace or two beyond the others, probably to fly away, and Martha said, "Wait!"

They all turned, and she trotted up to Clark. He had one arm around Lois, but he caught her in a hug with the other arm. She smiled up at her son, still a little stunned by his presence. Pulling herself together, she looked around at the others. "So...what do I call you all?"

"The Accidents?" Barry, the kind but awkward young man, suggested.

"The Super Freaks," Cyborg (Victor, that was his name, she remembered) said with a smirk.

"Super Friends," Diana corrected.

"I don't know how I feel about the whole 'Super' thing," Bruce said, glancing at Clark, who chuckled. "It's kind of proprietary. And no offense, but I've been fighting crime for twenty years."

"Got you beat," Diana retorted, her eyes dancing in amusement.

"Well," Martha interjected, "while you all figure out a name for your super-secret – ahem, sorry – very-secret society, why don't you come on inside? I've got pizza coming in about half an hour, unless somebody needs to go save the world or stop a volcano or something."

"Pizza?" Barry said, and disappeared. Martha blinked in surprise, but no one else did. Instead, Clark turned and, holding hands with Lois, started ambling toward the house. "Well Bat-anything is out if we're not the Super Friends, Bruce," Clark said. "You've practically got that trademarked."

Bruce grinned at that, and Diana said, "I kind of liked that line to Steppenwolf about justice."

"I liked the punch that followed even better," Arthur retorted.

"What line about justice?" Barry asked from the front porch.

Martha's jaw dropped. Was he able to turn invisible? No, that's right, they called him The Flash. "I thought only Clark was that fast."

"Justice Team?" Diana suggested as they walked.

"Only if you're okay with people calling you the J-Team," Lois said, grinning. "Because you know somebody will."

"What?" Barry asked.

"Flying the tank?" Lois prompted, but Barry's brow furrowed in confusion."Mr. T?" Lois continued. "Wow, I'm revealing my age here, aren't I."

"I got it," Bruce said, while Diana groaned, "I did, too, and Justice Team is out."

"Justice League?" Lois countered.

Clark smiled at her with approval. "I kind of like the sound of that."

"You would," Victor said, grinning. "For being the Super-Bat-Team's one-man brute squad, you are one whipped puppy."

"Am not," Clark retorted.

"Are too," Arthur muttered.

Clark turned his head to stare at him. "Am not."

"Are too," Bruce said.

"Children..." Diana sighed.

"I'm not a one-man brute squad," Clark archly answered. "I'll happily own the whipped part, though."

Lois chuckled beside him, and Martha shook her head in amazement as they followed her into the house. There were so many dreams she'd had for Clark when he was little – friends, a career, a wife – that all had died when his powers started overtaking his life. This big house had been too empty for decades, but now...

She turned and gestured to the new furniture. "Make yourselves at home. Can I get anyone something to eat or drink while we wait for the real food to arrive?"

Barry raised his hand. "I'm actually kind of hungry."

Clark gestured toward the kitchen, an easy smile lighting his face. "This way."

"Anyone else?" Lois asked. "Martha's mint lemonade is amazing."

"I'll try some," Diana answered as she graciously took her seat on the couch.

"Just water for me," Bruce said, settling into one of the recliners.

Turning to where Victor stood in the corner, Martha felt a flicker of uncertainty. Could this young man even eat? Still, she didn't want him to feel left out. "Can I get you...anything?"

Raising an eyebrow, he said, "An oilcan?"

Bruce snorted. "You're no more the Tin Man than I am the Cowardly Lion."

"You're right," Clark called from the kitchen, "with all your armor and toys, you're much more the Tin Man."

"Scarecrow," Bruce shot back. "If you only had a brain..."

"That's awful!" Barry said, reappearing in the kitchen doorway with a sandwich in one hand and a glass of lemonade in the other. "It's not his fault he was resurrected without all his memories."

"I got better!" Clark's voice again came from the kitchen, this time in a fake British accent.

Barry ignored him. "Although I think Arthur's mane makes him the Cowardly Lion."

"I'm not Dorothy," Diana preemptively declared, making Bruce smirk behind his hand.

"That's fine," Barry agreed, plopping down in the other recliner. "Lois can be Dorothy and since Clark's a whipped puppy he can be Toto. Problem solved."

"Except there aren't any Amazons in the story," Arthur pointed out from where he lounged against the couch arm-rest. Then he asked Diana if she preferred to be cast as the Good or Wicked Witch, prompting her to launch into an analysis of goddess symbolism in the Wizard of Oz.

"Thank you for the offer," Victor said in a low voice to Martha. "I'm fine."

"Just let me know if you need anything," she said, patting his metal hand. He lowered that hand to his side as though avoiding her touch, and Martha self-consciously put her own hands in her pockets.

Clark still hadn't returned from the kitchen, so Martha headed back there to see if maybe his feelings had been hurt by Bruce's teasing. Apparently, Bruce was the last thing on his mind – Lois was kissing Clark into obliviousness. Considering he had been dead just a couple of weeks ago, Martha could hardly blame Lois for being a little clingy. A fresh glass of lemonade was on the counter (probably the one Lois had poured for Diana), so Martha grabbed that and walked back out to the living room to offer it to the warrior-woman. Clark and Lois would join them when they were ready.

Martha sat on the couch and just observed in amusement as one of the most random conversations she'd ever witnessed unfolded in her living room. They'd moved beyond goddesses and into the physics of tornadoes, and Martha just shook her head in wonder. She'd raised an alien child who turned out to have godlike powers, so she wasn't phased by the fact that a billionaire, an Amazon, a cyborg, a merman, and a human lightning-bolt were goodnaturedly arguing about whether or not a tornado could be weaponized. What amazed her was that they claimed her son as their friend.

Clark had friends!

She sighed a little at the topic of tornadoes, though. I wish you could see this, Jonathan. You had the foresight to see what Clark could become, but I don't think even you could have predicted all this.

These men and women weren't just admirers or even confidants. These were people who could truly be called Clark's peers – people with superhuman strength, stamina, and speed, people who were just as intelligent and witty. These were people who had stood by him and fought side-by-side with him. She'd wanted this so badly for Clark but it had seemed impossible. Now he had Lois and friends. Martha couldn't care less about their backgrounds or more outlandish qualities – she cared about their ability to open their hearts to Clark and to each other. They had done right by her son, which meant they had a place in her heart now, too.

The pizza delivery car pulled into her driveway, and Martha stood to retrieve her purse from the front closet. Bruce crossed the room to her and quietly said, "Please, allow me."

Martha smiled up at him. "I think, between paying for Clark's funeral, giving me my home back, and furnishing it, you've done quite enough."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

She pshawed. "Please. I'm not as smart as the Super-Bat-Team, but I can put two and two together."

"We really need to come up with a different name before that one sticks," Clark said, this time from the kitchen doorway.

"About time you two stopped sucking face," Arthur grumbled.

Victor snorted in amusement. "Says the man who hangs out with octupi."

"Octipuses," Arthur countered.

Clark ignored them, instead crossing the room and pulling his wallet out of his pocket. "I've got this, Mom."

"No," Martha said, putting her hand out on his chest to stop him. "I've got this. I insist." He gave her an impatient look, and she said, "Consider it making up for lost time."

He tilted his head curiously, but by that point, the delivery man was ringing the doorbell, and Martha pushed past Bruce and Clark to answer it. He had a stack of four pizza boxes that Clark took to the kitchen table. While he ran Martha's card, Bruce offered to get the rest of the boxes out of the trunk. By the time she'd signed for the food, the whole team had moved to the kitchen. Maybe she was just feeling her age, but even though they were all adults, the gaggle of superheroes reminded her of a pack of happy teenagers.

"All in favor?" Bruce was asking.

A chorus of "Yes!" and "Aye!" rang out, and he said, "It's unanimous. We're the Justice League."

"Whew! Glad you got that problem fixed," Martha said as she joined them. Lois was putting a stack of plates out on the table, so Martha grabbed stacks of glasses and set them next to the plates. "You even have a reporter on hand to make make it official with a press release."

Martha started opening pizza boxes, and Lois grinned as she cuddled up to Clark (who stood leaning against the counter). "A couple of reporters."

Diana, who had snagged one of the four kitchen chairs, raised her eyebrows in surprise. "How will you manage that? Clark's obituary ran in the Daily Planet."

Clark half-smiled. "Our editor has a plan."

Victor shook his head in disbelief. "How'd you get all the luck, Kent?"

"Karma," he said, absentmindedly rubbing the now-healed hole in his chest.

Arthur sat up straighter in his chair when Martha got to the third box, but it was Barry who asked, "Are those anchovies?"

The merman snatched the box and jumped to his feet, saying, "Mine." To Martha, he added, "Gods bless you, woman!" and gestured that she should take his seat.

Bruce rumbled with laughter, and Barry held his hands up in surrender. "That one's all yours, man!"

"How'd you know?" Arthur asked, not bothering with a plate like the others and eating a slice right out of the box.

"Lucky guess," she answered at the same time Clark said, "She's a mother." He added, "That's her superpower."

Martha waved away his compliment as she served herself a slice of pepperoni pizza. "I'm just a farmer's wife. I'm sure your mothers are all amazing."

The silence that fell over the room was almost deafening after all the happy chatter. Arthur swallowed and put his half-eaten slice of pizza back in the box, Barry was looking dejectedly at the floor, Victor was staring out the window with clenched jaw, and Diana thoughtfully frowned and studied her half-empty glass of lemonade. Bruce shifted uneasily in his chair. "My mother passed away," he softly said. Taking a deep breath, he added, "She was murdered, a long time ago."

"Mine, too, actually," Barry said, glancing up shyly.

Martha whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Victor looked from Bruce to Barry and back again, then seemed to come to a decision. Holding out his hands, he said, "The same accident that turned me into this took my mom."

Martha's heart ached for the boy. "Oh no."

Diana looked pointedly at Arthur. "Queen Atlanta...?"

"Dead." The word rang with such finality that Martha didn't know what to say. Arthur stared down Diana. "Queen Hippolyta?"

"Alive and well, last I knew," she answered softly.

"A hundred years ago," Arthur said, "and before Steppenwolf attacked Themiscyra and stole the motherbox."

Diana's frown deepened, worry etching her lovely features.

Stunned, Martha looked from face to face. Every last one of them had lost their mothers, with the possible exception of Diana. In some ways the not knowing would be even worse. A part of Martha wanted to gather them each up in her arms and comfort away the pain in their eyes. They weren't infants like Clark had been, though. They weren't even children, but clearly they still felt that loss. To Diana, she said, "Why don't you go visit her?"

"I can't. I left and am forbidden to return."

"Well can't you call her at least? Make sure she's okay?"

Both Arthur and Bruce chuckled at that, and Diana's eyes were kind when she said, "There's no cell service at home, and even if there were, they don't have phones."

"Her people warned us about Steppenwolf with a signal fire," Bruce added.

"Sounds primitive," Barry said around his bite of pizza.

"Sounds intriguing," Victor retorted, "getting all the way off the grid like that."

Arthur snorted in amusement. "Which just goes to show you're more machine than man, at least where it counts."

"This is Diana's mother we're talking about here," Clark pointed out.

Lois crossed her arms. "And if even half the legends about her are true, any man trying to harass Hippolyta runs the risk of getting his intestine ripped out."

"Aaand now I've lost my appetite," Barry groaned.

"I thought you were always hungry," Bruce said.

"I am – that's why it's so miserable."

Several people laughed at that, and Martha said, "Tell me what your favorite food is, then."

The mood shifted again as Bruce called out "Lobster thermador" at the same time that Diana firmly declared, "Ice cream," and Victor said, "The Gutenberg Project."

"The whaaa?" Arthur asked.

"Gutenberg Project," Lois said. "A movement to scan in and preserve old books printed before the Digital Age."

"That's all I get to devour anymore," Victor added, though he was smirking.

"Makes you feel more human, doesn't it," Clark commiserated, "reading so much."

Arthur reached for his slice of pizza again and took a bite. "With all these impressive biceps in the room, how am I surrounded by geeks?"

"It's called being cultured," Diana said, grinning, "and thank you for the compliment."

And so they went, teasing and playfully insulting each other, until Barry had finished the last three non-anchovy slices of pizza and the sun started sinking toward the west.

"I'd better get going," Bruce eventually said. "I have meetings tomorrow morning, and Alfred's going to hassle me as it is." Standing up and clearing his place, he said, "Anybody need a lift?"

"I've got my own flight to Metropolis," Lois said, her gaze darting to Clark.

Diana rose to her feet and said to Bruce, "I might as well take the scenic route on the way home. I'll go with you."

"Wouldn't want to crash your date..." Arthur said.

"Oh, it's not a date," Diana interrupted.

"...but I'd appreciate a lift to Gotham Harbor."

"There's a river just a few miles..." Clark began, but Arthur grimaced.

"Rivers are so...confining. And muddy. And fresh water isn't exactly fresh. I'd rather fly like a bat."

"Well, fly safely," Martha said and saw them out the door. Apparently Victor and Barry felt it was time to leave, too, and they followed the other three out, Barry thanking her profusely for the pizza.

"Oh," she asked as an afterthought. "Are any of you on Facebook?"

Victor easily laughed. "I am Facebook, Mrs. Kent. If you want to get ahold of any of us, just type 'Victor Stone' into any digital search and I'll message you. There's not a place on the planet where these guys can hide from me – I'll get you connected."

"Challenge accepted," Arthur called out and then climbed into the backseat of Bruce's Hummer.

She chuckled and said to Victor, "Thank you. An old coot like me struggles with technology sometimes. I appreciate the offer."

He nodded and then shot up into the air, his feet trailing fire. With a streak of light, Barry was gone, too.

As Martha went back inside and shut the door behind her, she was met by Clark who had his arms crossed over his chest and was giving her a Look.

"What?" she asked.

"I know what you're thinking, and it's biting off a lot to chew – even for you."

"I don't know what you're talking about, son," she said, returning to the kitchen where Lois was already loading the dishwasher. "Oh, Lois, you don't need to do all that."

"She's right," Clark said, sweeping Lois off her feet, giving her a kiss intense enough that Martha averted her eyes, and then setting her on her feet again in front of his mom. "I'll do the washing up," he said, "you talk her out of adopting five more exceptionally-special needs kids."

Lois looked a little stunned still from the kiss. "What?"

Clark smirked as he rinsed the plates. "Tell her, Mom."

Martha shook her head at her son before turning her attention to Lois. "I just...my heart goes out to them. All these motherless boys. Even Diana has to live with the uncertainty of not knowing."

"Mm-hmm," Clark hummed as he worked, as though this all confirmed his suspicions.

"But they are not infants. I recognize that. You're all grown men and women who saved the world. No one needs me to adopt them."

"So what's the problem?" Lois asked.

"The problem is she didn't finish her sentence. There's a 'but' in there somewhere," Clark said, and Martha eyed him with amused exasperation.

Giving in, she said, "But who's going to remember their birthdays?"

Lois grinned, no doubt remembering the balloon bouquet Martha had paid to be delivered to the Daily Planet on Clark's last birthday.

"I just want to send them a card or something," Martha defensively said. "I don't know."

Lois looked back to Clark. "I don't see anything wrong with that. I'm voting with Martha on this one."

"You would," Clark sighed, retrieving the detergent from under the sink and getting the dishwasher running. "As long as it's not something too outrageous, I guess that's okay." Leaning against the counter again, he added, "I was worried you were wanting to plan sleepovers or something."

Lois chuckled and looped her arm through Clark's. "Nope, I get the monopoly on sleepovers at the Kent farm."

Martha nodded decisively. "Yes, you do." And as long as that was the case, Martha figured she could probably count on Lois' backing, even if it meant taking care of the Justice League lost boys and girl from time to time.