Chapter 14

"Mom?!"

"Abuela?!" the young woman on the couch chimes in with, looking as stunned as her father.

Martha Kent cocks an eyebrow at the sight of her son and the exotic young woman on the couch along with Shelby before she refocuses her gaze upon her son. Silence prevails until…

"Arf! Arf!" a very excited canine makes his way over to the once red but now greying haired woman.

Martha smiles at the sight of her dog. "Hello, boy! You been good?" she asks as she ruffles his fur.

"Arf! Arf!" the Golden Retriever responds, wagging his tail.

Clark rubs the back of his neck in his nervous gesture. "Mom. I…uh…didn't know you were coming. I thought you were in Washington for the vote on the VRA."

It doesn't escape Martha's notice, her son's nervous tick. "I came here to meet one of the Act's biggest supporters. He's in Metropolis for Thanksgiving. I think if I can persuade him around against it, it might tip the balance in Congress."

"Um…that would be good," he says lamely.

"I also thought I would surprise you," she explains why she didn't call ahead.

"You certainly managed that," the dark-haired man murmurs under his breath.

"Uh huh. You going to introduce me, Clark?"

"What?" he asks until he spots his mother's gaze turning to the woman still sitting on the couch. "Oh, right! Yes. Of course. Mia. This is my mother, Martha Kent. Mom, this is Mia."

Mia stands up, wringing her hands, before copying her father and rubbing the back of her neck. "Uh…hi," is all she can manage to come up with before internally wincing. God, that was lame. She must be coming across as such a twip.

"Hello," Martha says to her.

"So…uh…I can explain this," Clark starts, before his mother stops him.

"Don't bother. This is the 'Maiden of Might' you've been seen with lately, right?"

"Yes…but Oliver wants to call her Supergirl."

"I am called Supergirl," Mia points out.

Clark looks at her strangely.

"Um…I never mentioned that, did I?" she realises.

"No," he says sternly.

All Mia can do is shrug helplessly with an 'aw-shucks' grin.

Clark is about to give his daughter a telling off when he recalls the fact his mother is standing right there. "Mia, can you excuse us, please," he requests, wanting it to be just him and his mom.

"Yeah, sure. I'm certain I have something to do," she mumbles to herself before she zips away with a gust of wind.

Martha straightens out her hair before looking at Clark who is once again rubbing the back of his neck. "So…another Kryptonian?" she queries.

"No. Yes. Sorta."

"Glad you cleared that up," the older woman dead-pans.

Clark rubs his face. "You're going to want to sit down," he cautions her.

Martha takes the necessary steps and sits herself down on the couch. Shelby jumps up beside her. She watches her son begin to pace back and forth. "I'm going to assume she's not a threat or otherwise she wouldn't be here."

"No. She's not a threat."

"So, who is she, Clark? Really?"

"Well…she's from the future."

Martha gives him a sceptical gaze.

"Oh, come on, mom, don't give me that look. You know time travel's possible."

"Doesn't make it any less fantastical, Clark," she retorts. "Why is she here? In this time?"

"Ah. That. Don't know exactly. She's not been forthcoming with the whole story."

"Then why are you trusting her enough to be here, with you?"

Clark finally stops his pacing. "There's a really, really good reason for that."

"Which is?"

Ok. Here it goes. He takes a deep breath. "She's my daughter."

"What?" Martha asks, utterly stunned.

"My daughter," he repeats. "Your granddaughter."

"She's my granddaughter?" Martha has to ask, her mind not quite processing this yet.

Clark nods in confirmation.

"I'm a grandmother? Going to be a grandmother?" she tries to figure it out.

Ooh boy. Clark's not looking forward to this bit. "Are a grandmother. She's…already been born."

"What?!" Martha snaps at him.

Clark visibly winces at his mother's raised tone. "Let me explain."

Martha looks at him intently. "When did you and Lois…"

"She's not Lois'," he cuts her off.

Martha looks at him with even more intensity with how sharp her son's tone is.

"We broke up. Well, she broke up with me and then disappeared off to Africa…again," he says, unable to keep the bitterness and anger out of his voice.

"We're going to talk about that, Clark," Martha vows. "But first if Lois is not Mia's mother, who is? It's not Lana, is it?"

"No. Definitely not Lana," he assures his mother.

"Then who?"

Clark wonders if there is any chance a convenient hole could open up and swallow him whole right now. Turns out the answer is no. He better just take it like a man. "Do you remember Andrea Rojas?"

Unknown location…

Unknown to them this reunion of mother and son is not going unnoticed by others.

"Report," a blond man in military garb demands over the radio from the well-equipped mobile base he is currently operating from.

"The POI has arrived at destination."

"From our intel we expect the POI to meet the primary target tomorrow. Keep an eye on them and report if it seems like the plans have changed."

"Roger."

The man known as Rick Flagg sits back in his chair, a contemplative expression on his face but also one of determination. He has his goals and no-one, be they a Senator or her super-powered son is going to interfere.

Smallville...

Mother and son have reconvened in the kitchen as it was too cold for Martha to keep sitting out in the barn. Clark is making her some hot chocolate, using his heat vision to make it hot. "Here," he says as he hands her over the mug.

Martha blows on it and takes a sip. "So let me get this straight," she says as she attempts to summarise all of this. "You slept with Andrea. Got her pregnant and forgot to tell me or anyone else about it."

Clark knows that eerily calm tone his mother is using. He's in major trouble. "In my defence I didn't know she was pregnant. I didn't know Mia existed until her grown-up self showed up in Metropolis."

"Three months ago. You've known for 12 weeks that I'm a grandmother and yet I get told nothing."

Clark tries to explain himself. "It's not like I just believed her, mom. I'm not that naïve. I had to verify she was who she claimed she was before I could tell you. I had to track Andrea down and make sure that this wasn't some elaborate scheme by…God I lose track of all the people who want to get at me or if this was someone new. They always seem to pop up too. I have no idea what deity I ticked off to have that keep happening."

"Clark, you're rambling," his mother tells him off.

He rubs the back of his neck and tries to gather himself.

"Weren't you dating Lana at that time?" it suddenly occurs to the Kent matriarch.

"Um…I was kinda hoping you wouldn't remember that," the alien male mumbles in a half-hearted reply.

Martha just gives her son a look.

"What do you want me to say, mom? I know I did wrong but I can't offer any excuse beyond dad had just died and I was a mess."

Well at least he's admitting he did wrong. Anyway, lets get this back on track. "So, you tracked Andrea down?"

"Yes."

"And found she does indeed have a daughter?"

"Yes."

"Your daughter?"

"Yes."

"You're certain?"

"As I can be."

"Which means what?"

"It's not like I can just have a normal paternity test done, mom, is it? I'm harder to get blood out of than a stone but she's the right age, has my eyes and Andi confirmed she's mine."

"Andi?" she queries at the informal use of the name.

Clark shrugs. "It's what she allows her friends to call her. I'd like to think we're friends if for nothing else but Mia's benefit. Oh, you want to see a picture of her?"

"Yes."

Clark fishes out his phone and brings up the best image he has of his daughter. He then hands it over. "There. That's Mia," he says, with more than a hint of pride.

Martha takes a few moments to analyse the image of the little girl. "She's lovely, honey."

"She's amazing. Good natured, smart, full of life, her favourite colours are red and black, like black's a colour," he derides, "…which I'm totally blaming Andi for. Must be a leftover from her costumed vigilante days…can you inherit that?"

Martha finds herself laughing at her son's babble. Though it's clear from his voice and expression how much he seems to love his daughter. She guesses she is going to have to start wrapping her head around the fact she's a grandmother. Still, that does not let him off the hook for her biggest annoyance at him. "That still doesn't explain why you didn't tell me for all these weeks."

"No. Maybe you're right," he will concede. "But you were busy in Washington…"

"Never too busy for you, honey."

"And…I…uh…didn't want you to be disappointed in me. For, you know, how it all happened. How irresponsible I was."

Martha sighs and gets to her feet. "Clark. Yes, I am a little disappointed in you but you have to know that nothing you would do would ever change how I feel about you. You're my son and as long as I am able, I'm always here for you."

Clark's expression turns into that loveable little boy she first found as he stops forward and embraces her tightly. "Thank you," he whispers.

Loud clearing of a throat interrupts this touching mother/son moment.

"Mia," Clark acknowledges the grown-up version of his daughter.

"Sorry," she apologies for interrupting. "But you're meant to be picking up Mamá," she reminds him.

Clark swears under his breath. "So I was," he recalls. "I invited her and Mia for Thanksgiving," he explains to his mother,

"As you should have," Martha tells him, brightening as she realises she is going to meet her granddaughter…except her granddaughter is standing right there. She thinks she's getting a migraine.

"I need to get going," he says, heading for the door.

"Of course…but we'll talk more, honey. Be sure of that," she warns him.

Clark tries to ignore the feeling of dread over that ominous promise as he exits the abode.

That leaves Martha alone with Mia. "So…Mia, isn't it?" she turns her attention to the young woman.

"Si."

"Do we know each other? In the future?"

"Si. Nos hemos encontrado," she says before catching herself. "Sorry. I mean, yes. We've met."

"Meeting is not the same as knowing each other," the older woman reflects.

"I guess not…but I'm not sure if Papá mentioned this but for most of my life I didn't know I was his daughter so it was really only very recently I met you…from my perspective."

"You didn't know?"

Mia looks sad. "Mamá died before she got around to telling me. It was only later I…um…figured it out."

"I'm sorry about your mother," Martha says genuinely but yet, she can hear the way the woman hesitated and stuttered slightly over her words, indicating she isn't been entirely honest.

"Thank you, Abuela."

"Abuela?"

"Grandmother. I'm sorry, is it too soon for that?"

"No. No. It's fine," Martha assures her that it is not which gets her a smile in return that shows up dimples very like Clark's. In fact, now she was really looking she could see her son in this woman's features beyond just possessing the same-coloured eyes. "So, while we wait for Clark to return why don't you tell me about yourself, Mia?" she asks of her…granddaughter. Wow, that's still going to need some getting used to.

"Um…okkaayy," Mia draws out her response. "But…uh…there are some things I can't say because of, you know, temporal paradoxes and the such," she cautions.

"I'm sure we'll manage."

Metropolis…

Clark had ended up having to push the speed limit just a touch to het here to the airport in time. Andi was still insistent of not being run halfway across the country as he could easily do. He is still a very long way from completely understanding the mother of his child. At least he got her to accept him paying for the tickets this time since he was the one who invited her.

Her flight had landed so now he was just waiting at Arrivals for them. He looks for them when he hears…

"Mister Clark! Mister Clark!"

That voice calling out always makes him smile as the little dark-haired girl runs towards him. He bends down and hoists her up into his arms as she reaches him. "Hey, there," he says happily. "Have a good flight?"

"Is economy class ever good?" Andrea snarks as she catches up to her offspring, lugging her luggage with her which is a hell of lot more work than it used to be.

Clark shrugs. "Wouldn't know. Never flied commercial."

"Of course, you haven't," the Latino woman realises.

"Been on a private plane, though," he remarks.

"How on Earth…"

"Oliver," he fills in.

"I guess it's handy to be acquainted with multi-millionaires."

"Actually, I think he's a billionaire."

"And I think he's the sort of guy whom my mother used to rail against constantly."

"Nah. Oliver's alright. Bit cocky at times but his heart is in the right place."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Let me help you with your bags," he offers as he places Mia back down and takes the bags from Andi. With that the small family make their way out the airport to where Clark's truck is parked. Once that is done, he lifts Mia into the passenger's side.

"So, anything new happening with you?" Andrea asks in a conversational tone.

"Not much. Oh, except my mother's in town."

That stops the brunette dead. "Say what?" she asks dumbly.

Smallville…

The hours Clark had been away had allowed Martha to begin to get to know the young woman who was apparently her granddaughter. It was long enough to see aspects of her son present in the woman. It was also long enough to see what Clark meant when he said Mia never told the whole truth. It was rather obvious when she was being entirely less than honest. Like her father she wasn't a great liar.

"They're coming," Mia suddenly says which earns her a curious look. She shrugs. "Superhearing," she explains.

Outside the truck was indeed coming down the track to the farm. Within Andrea was starting to get increasingly…well, nervous as matter of fact. When she agreed to come back to Smallville for Thanksgiving, meeting Clark's mother had not been on the table as the US Senator was supposed to be in Washington but now, she was only moments away from the meeting.

Clark could see Andi was nervous. "You should relax."

"Relax? Are you serious?" she asks indignantly.

"Trust me, I'm the one in trouble. Mom will love you. After all you're the one who has given her a gr-crap!"

"What?" Andrea asks as Mia giggles at Clark's mild profanity.

"I forgot to mention that we haven't told you-know-who the truth about, you know, me," he says, nodding his head at the little girl between them.

It takes Andrea a second to figure out what he means. He's referring to the fact they still haven't told Mia that Clark is her father. "Oh."

Clark lightly groans as he pulls the truck to a stop. "Give me a minute," he requests as he needs to go clear this up. This is going to be a long couple of days.

Andrea lifts her daughter into her lap as Clark exits the truck and enters the house.

"Are we not going in, Mamá?" the 4-year-old asks.

"In a second, honey. Clark just needs to…check on something first."

"Ok."

"Now, you'll remember to be good for Clark's Mamá and cousin won't you, Mia?" she asks in her slightly sterner 'mother voice'.

"Yes, Mamá."

"Good girl," the brunette says as she kisses Mia's cheek.

A few minutes later a rather stressed looking Clark emerges from the house along with an older red-haired woman. He walks over to the passenger side and opens the door.

"How did it go?" Andrea asks.

"Ugh, I'm so getting grounded," Clark mutters which manages to get a small grin out of Andi. To put it mildly his mother was confused about the situation but Clark thinks he managed to explain the reasons why to her. Mostly that the decision is not really his. It's Andi's. Though secretly he must admit to being annoyed he just can't be Mia's father without the secret. He's going to have to take it up with her soon but not right now. "Come on then," he says as he reaches for Mia and lifts her out the truck.

Andrea follows them out and finds that they are in the presence of two other woman. The older one must be Clark's mother and the younger one…God! Look at her.

Clark introduces his daughter to his mother first off and he watches his mother's face adopt this deep smile of affection. He then turns to the other introduction. "Mom, you might remember Andrea. Andi this is my mother; Martha Kent." No response. "Andi?" he queries as he turns his head to look at her and finds her staring. He follows her gaze to the adult version of his daughter who is staring back. "Um, lets go inside," he suggests. I'm sure Carol(the human name they came up to use because it was fairly close to Cir-El and having two Mias would drive everyone to distraction) can help Andi with the bags."

"Wha-huh," 'Carol' says before her mind catches up. "Oh, sure, sure."

Clark, Martha and Mia head in leaving the two dark-haired woman alone. They stand there in silence for awhile before Andrea walks up to the equally as tall woman as herself and gazes at her intently, studying the features of the woman in front of her. She cups her face. "It really is you," she realises. "My little Angel," she murmurs.

It is all Mia can do not to break down and sob. "Hey Mamá," she says in a croaky voice.

Andrea pulls her into a hug and Mia rests her head on her mother's shoulder, closing her eyes and trying really hard not to let the tears out, afraid once she starts she won't be able to stop them.

Andrea pulls back and smiles radiantly. "Look how big you've gotten," she has to say since currently her daughter is kinda on the small size. "You're so beautiful," she remarks.

Mia looks almost embarrassed at the comment. "Uh…good genes I guess," is all her freaked out brain can come up with.

"I'm not so sure of that. I can see too much of your father in you," Andrea teases.

"That's a funny coincidence. He says he can see too much of you in me."

"Does he now? Well, we'll have to have words about that," Andrea determines. "Though I have a question."

"I'll answer it if I can."

"Does this…meeting my grown-up daughter from the future get any less weird feeling?"

Mia chuckles. "Nope," she says, popping the p.

Andrea shakes her head. God this is weird but it is without doubt her daughter. A mother just knows. "Oh, the bags," she suddenly recalls.

"I'll get them. You go inside where it's warm," Mia insists.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

"No problemo!" she says chirpily as she hops down the steps and over to the truck

Andrea face-palms herself. "She's still saying that," she grumbles.

Author's Note: A little bit of a filler chapter but we'll start getting onto the meat of this episode soon. Thanks to everyone who wrote reviews.