Hopeful Idiot – Chapter 09: Meet the Parents

"Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God." Hope repeated the mantra, her arms wrapped tightly around Superman's neck in a death grip. If he had been human, circulation would have been something to worry about. Her head was buried in his neck, and she was steadfastly NOT looking down. "I hate you so much right now."

"If you're afraid of heights, why did you ask to fly?" Clark's voice rumbled in her ear.

"I didn't think I was," Hope muttered. She peeked one eye to a slit, saw that all below them was clouds, and her arms tightened further. "I'm fine in my building and at work," she did NOT whimper and slammed her eyes shut again.

Clark smiled into her hair, restraining himself from chuckling. It wasn't funny, not really. It was the irony. The woman he held so closely was probably one of the most confrontational people he'd ever met, usually not afraid of anyone or anything. Yet here she was, holding on to him for dear life, even though she knew he would never drop her.

In deference to her obvious fear and extreme discomfort, he went as fast as he dared with a human passenger; wanting to make the trip as short as possible, but without a capsule to hold back the wind, he was forced to go under Mach 1. He could speed up a little more than he had the night before with the reporter, because Hope wasn't looking where they were going. He held her bridal style with one arm, while the other was out in front of him directing his position. It wasn't aerodynamic, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.

"Here we are," he whispered to her, slowing considerably as he descended out of the upper atmosphere. "Take a look." He deliberately came in at a shallower angle than he usually did, so that she could see the grand scope of the building.

Hope blinked against the strong wind in her eyes, which made her tear up, then her mouth opened in surprise. "Oh, Clark," she breathed, "it's beautiful."

It was a pyramidal-shaped structure of clear and white hexagonal crystals. They reminded her of quartz, but on a grander scale. Lots of triangles in the design, where the crystals crossed, forming ceilings and supports, which made sense. Triangles were the strongest geometric shape (that she knew of) and hexagons were just three equilateral triangles around a central point. As they kept flying closer, her eyes widened in increments as she realized exactly how large the ice palace truly was.

He smiled down at her awed expression, "I'm glad you like it. You're the first to ever see it." His feet finally hit the snow-covered entrance platform and set her gently down. "It's my Fortress of Solitude." He kept an arm around her waist until they were through the entrance. "There's several layers of different fields that prevent this place from being found by current human science, and even if anyone did find it, they wouldn't be able to get in without either my permission, or they were a Kryptonian themselves."

Hope goggled at the vast insides, which was only slightly smaller than the outsides. Most of the space was divided into different platforms, not by walls. There was only one partially enclosed alcove she could see, almost hidden in a corner to the far right. "It's amazing, Clark. Absolutely beautiful."

"This is where I spent over twelve years, learning from my father."

Hope frowned in confusion, "Your father? I thought Krypton had been destroyed. That you were the only survivor."

"It was and I am, as far as I know. But this structure has an A.I. form of my father that taught me everything I needed to know to become Superman." He walked her up the steps on the left to the highest platform, which contained a plethora of crystals – all in different lengths, shades of white, and diameters – along with hollow tubes. Clark plucked one of the largest clear crystals from its central place of honor and placed it in the largest hollow tube.

She hadn't realized that the crystals that made up the ceiling generated light until it dimmed. A gentle hum began as a shimmering form took shape in the air before them. "A hologram!" She could see through the man that solidified for another couple seconds, before it was impossible to tell that he was anything other than a normal fully-solid individual.

The man was silver-haired with the same pure-blue eyes of his son. Age and experience had given him wrinkles, but she was happy to see that there were many around his eyes as well, indicating that he liked to smile and laugh. Good traits. His outfit was pure white with silver accents, and Superman's now-iconic 'S' symbol in black in the center of his chest. All this Hope registered in the blink of an eye as the A.I. registered her presence as well, raised a single eyebrow, then looked at his son, "Kal-El?"

Clark smiled, though it did seem a bit forced as he drew her closer until she was flush to his side, "Father, this is Hope Kramer. Hope, this is my biological father, Jor-El."

"Is this human female to be your mate, my son?"

Hope choked on her own spit and began to cough. Clark immediately patted her gently on the back. "Are you okay? Hope?"

She held up a hand, one finger extended in a 'wait' gesture. Once she got a hold of herself and her breathing, she straightened and looked at the program, then back to Clark. "Your dad is either oblivious or an asshole. I'm not sure which is preferable."

"Ahhh…" Clark blushed bright red. "Bit of this, bit of that. He's a Kryptonian scientist. They tend to be rather…" he paused as he searched for a word.

"Blunt? Tactless? Obtuse? Brazen?" Hope supplied helpfully, her smile full of teeth.

"…direct." Clark finished.

Jor-El looked between the woman and his son. Back and forth as he observed their interactions. How his son held her close, protective. How she wasn't intimidated by his strength and abilities, she refused to back down in the face of such alien surroundings, and instead choose to meet his son on her own terms. Brazen, was the word she had used. "Hmmm…I think perhaps it is time."

Kal-El blinked in confusion, turning his attention back to the A.I. "Time, Father?"

"For your mother to instruct you regarding the selection of a mate." Even as the A.I. spoke, he was moving to the side as another hologram began to shimmer into place beside him. She had curly dirty-blonde hair that went passed her shoulders and hazel eyes that shone with love and mirth. Her outfit was similar to her husband's: white and silver. She also had the iconic 'S' in the center of her chest, but hers was smaller than either male; it was done in silver on the white background of the dress with only a vague outline, barely visible, of the diamond shape around the letter. "My love," Jor-El said solemnly, "our son has decided to take a mate."

Hope held up a finger and opened her mouth as if to make some comment, then shook her head. "Nope, I'm not touching this with a ten-foot pole. Clark, where can I hide?"

"You're leaving me?"

"Hell yes! I already went through The Talk once. It's your turn. Man up!"

"I already had this talk with my adoptive parents. I don't need it again!" Even as he spoke though, he gestured to the small alcove she'd seen before.

"Well, maybe you need the Kryptonian version of The Talk, then. 'Cause they're talking like it's a big thing." Hope grinned up at him and leaned in on her tiptoes to give him a light kiss. "You can give me the CliffNotes version later." She jumped down from the platforms steadily as she went. "Mrs. Clark's mom, nice to meet cha'. I'm gonna go hide."

Lara Lor-Van blinked at the redhead, her mouth quirking with suppressed humor. "What an interesting choice you've made, my son."

Kal-El leaned forward on the console with his head in his hand and muttered, "Why me?"

+++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++

In the small alcove, Hope found a recessed concave circular bed—at least she assumed the massive pile of blankets and fluffed pillows was a bed—and proceeded to wrap herself up in one of the silver blankets. "Looks like one of those mylar space blankets that lock in all the heat."

"In fact, it holds in body heat and then radiates it back to you," Jor-El said mildly as he peered at her.

Hope squeaked slightly at the unexpected intrusion, but just glared at him in turn. After a couple seconds, she realized how right the A.I. was, feeling the warmth seep steadily through her triple-layered clothes, and a slow grin spread across her face. "Oh…" she breathed. "I've got a wonderful idea." She threw herself on the bed, chucked off her winter faux-fur overcoat, pulled off her shoes in two quick yanks, then bounced into and proceeded to bury herself in blankets. It only took two seconds for a delightedly happy sigh to escape her.

Jor-El observed this with a carefully neutral expression. After a moment, he asked, "Do you wish to be my son's mate?" When she didn't immediately answer, he continued, "You are obviously a beautiful female by human standards. You no doubt have had opportunities to choose human males in which to bind yourself and continue your bloodline. Why have you chosen Kal-El instead of another of your own species?"

Hope's head poked out between two blankets, the one on top covering her forehead, hair and ears, while the bottom was clutched tightly up to her nose. When she answered, her voice was slightly muffled by the fabric, but was no less understandable. "To answer your first question, it would depend on your definition of 'mate' and the Kryptonian implications therein. Responsibilities, expectations, et cetera." She paused to gather her thoughts and answered as honestly as she could, "Do I like him? Yes. Do I love him? I haven't known him long enough for that." Another pause. "I like spending time with him. I like him, even though half the time he makes me grind my teeth. I like teasing him. I think he likes teasing me. There are times I want to shake him, knock him upside the head, and then there're times when I can't stop thinking about him."

Her eyes went to the ceiling as she thought harder, trying to find words to adequately express herself, "He looks at me like I'm beautiful. And he makes me laugh." She paused, a wry smile coming over her features. "Even when he's fussing over me, it's…nice. Usually males fussing over me drives me up a wall. But when he does it, I don't mind that much." Her head ducked back under the covers. "Take from that what you will."

"Hmmm," Jor-El said, non-committal, and blinked back to his wife's side where she was doing a fine job of turning his son permanently pink. After all, parents had certain rights when it came to embarrassing their children.

Posted: 2.19.2020

Wordcount: 1880