Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, otherwise I'd be as rich as Bruce Wayne.
Branching away from my usual Star Wars with this one, but the whole idea was sparked in conversation with a friend, and I couldn't resist. Enjoy.
"Are you sure it's okay that we go out tonight, Clark?" Lois Lane, star reporter at Metropolis' very own Daily Planet, asked of her partner.
"Yeah, Lois," Clark Kent, another star reporter at The Daily Planet and secretly Superman, answered. "My mom'll probably just scrub my kitchen despite it already being clean, and Pa'll just kick back on the couch. They're fine, so don't worry about it!" he reassured.
"I just," Lois started, gnawing on her lip, "I feel bad. I didn't know they were in town when I suggested today for our date."
"Lois," Clark chuckled, "seriously, it's fine. They wanted a change in scenery is all. They can see me anytime. You know that."
Lois relaxed at that, knowing Clark could be in Smallville in literally seconds if either of his parents asked him to come home. "Okay, okay!" she relented, throwing up her hands in the universal surrender signal. "Let's go! Hot date incoming!"
She heard Clark laugh at her sudden change in attitude. She grabbed his hand and gleefully tugged him down the sidewalk in the direction of their pre-selected destination. About two minutes down the way, however, Lois stopped and turn to face Clark as she felt him freeze.
Uh oh. I know that look. Someone's in his ear. Lois thought to herself, stopping herself from asking what his deal was so that he could be allowed to listen to his earpiece without interference. She suddenly wished she had interrupted when a look of regret crossed his face.
Clark laughed as Lois cheerfully tugged his hand, leading him down the sidewalk toward the restaurant in her usual plow-through-the-crowd manner.
"Superman." Batman's voice sounded in his ear not two minutes after he and Lois left his apartment. He clicked his receiver on to show that he was listening, not that it would have mattered much, Batman knew he would be. "Where are you? Tell me you did not forget the league meeting." Batman's words were processed the same moment Lois turned around and realized what was going on. Clark suddenly hated his super-powered abilities in that moment. He had promised Lois a good night and Superman just had to come in and ruin it—again, he might add.
"B," he started, careful that he was in public and not in costume. "I— a meeting? I can't miss? I've—"
"You better not tell me you have got something better to do," Batman growled in his ear. "I know you are not doing anything life-threatening."
He probably has the monitors pulled up and is fact checking everything right now. Clark thought to himself. If I give him a few more minutes, he'll have me sighted by satellite.
"B, I have a," he tried again, but stopped as he realized how stupid it would sound to the Dark Knight.
"Is it a work thing?" Batman asked, a growl in his voice. "Because if it is, I will override your directions."
You would do that. You do own the paper after all. Clark thought cynically.
"No, I had a date," he answered, glumly.
A beat passed. "A date?" Batman hissed. "I swear to God and Diana's gods also, Kal, if you are not up here in five minutes for this nonsensical meeting, I will have your head."
Clark hadn't bothered to check the time but based off Batman's tone of voice and choice of words, Clark deduced he'd been late by a fair margin. Clark was about to argue that Batman wouldn't actually kill him and try one last time to get out of the meeting before a click was heard in his ear, signaling Batman had ended the transmission and thus ended the argument.
"Lois," Clark started.
"Stop," Lois interrupted. She recognized the set to Clark's jaw that he had maintained throughout his conversation with, Lois guessed, Batman. "You have to go."
"Batman'll kill me, apparently, if I don't," Clark mumbled, finding the concrete very interesting. "He swore so on his mother's God and all Diana's."
Lois, despite her disappointment at the situation, appreciated how terrifying Batman's threat actually was. Sure, he wouldn't actually kill Clark, but Batman was not a man anyone, even Superman, wanted to cross.
Clark sighed. "I'm so sorry," he said, gripping Lois' shoulders. Looking her in the eye, he promised, "I will make it up to you, I promise."
Lois seemed to stare into his soul. "Sure. I understand. Go save the world, Clark."
He knew Lois meant what she said, but that didn't make him feel any better about it.
Lois stood in the sidewalk and waited as Clark ducked into an alleyway to change before zooming away. She started moving only after she heard the sonic boom that Superman created as he sped to the Watchtower at a speed probably faster than light.
Guess I'll just go crash at his place with his parents. She thought, seeing as though she had been the original reason he wasn't spending time with them, either. For the two minutes it took to walk back to his place she reflected on how important it was for him to be Superman, despite it interfering almost constantly with their time together.
She didn't realize she'd walked into Clark's apartment until her thoughts were interrupted by Martha Kent's "Lois? What's wrong dear?" Lois also hadn't realized how close to tears she had been the entire way back until Martha's gentle hand and concerned glance were felt. She faintly heard an "Oh, dear. Let's go into the kitchen, shall we?" before she was guided by the shoulders into Clark's small kitchen. She vaguely recognized that Jonathan Kent was indeed seated comfortably on the couch just as Clark had said he would be.
"What happened dear?" Martha started as she and Lois reached the kitchen. She pushed Lois back to lean against the counter as she herself leant against the island.
Lois just kept silently crying, trying to pull herself together.
"Where's Clark?" Martha asked, before quickly asking another question. "Did he have to go do you-know-what?" When Lois nodded her head, sniffling and wiping her eyes, she stopped questioning the poor girl and waited for her to speak.
"He—he had a… ugh," Lois tried, her voice husky due to the tears. "He got a call as we were walking there, and I guess B bullied Clark into going to a meeting he was late for?" Lois managed, still wiping her eyes.
"He left you for a meeting?" Martha asked rhetorically. Lois answered anyway.
Nodding, Lois continued, "Yeah. He said B swore on God and the princess's gods that if Clark didn't go, he'd kill him." She paused, before going on to say that obviously B wouldn't actually kill Clark, but still.
In the back of Martha's mind, she recognized that Batman saying something like that would be truly terrifying, but the greater portion of Martha's mind reasoned that Clark had another, much more terrifying in her opinion, something headed his way.
"Clark. Joseph. Kent." Martha growled, turning toward the living room opening.
Superman barely whooshed into his seat five minutes after Batman had clicked off on the comms. He smiled sheepishly, still reeling in guilt after leaving Lois, at the BatGlare he received for his tardiness.
"Now that Superman has finally decided to grace us with his presence," Batman began, sarcasm positively dripping from his words, "we can finally start the meeting. Cyborg, if you will."
Superman listened intently to what Cyborg was saying, knowing the meeting was important—it was required for a reason, after all—when he heard, remarkably clearly, especially considering the distance, "Clark. Joseph. Kent."
Six of the seven original members of the Justice League had exactly .2 seconds to see true, absolute fear flash across Superman's face. Flash, of course, saw the expression in 'real time' as he unconsciously used super speed to read Superman's expression. Just as soon as the expression had appeared on Superman's face, the man himself was gone, sending loose papers flying in the wake of his speedy exit. A few of the remaining members blinking, questioning everything they had seen for the past minute of their lives.
Batman knew, the moment he saw that look on Superman's face, that he would be going back into the Watchtower's security systems and downloading the video of what had just occurred. He reasoned he would probably save it in slow motion as well as real time. And if he was completely honest with himself, he would be using the screenshot of Superman's petrified face as a screensaver for the foreseeable future.
As the League sat in stunned silence, the corners of his lips twitched upwards and he relaxed into his chair, kicking his feet up onto the table and crossing them at the ankles while locking his fingers behind his head. The shocked expressions then turned to him, further shocked that he was relaxing at all, much less in the totally unprofessional manner in which he was. He didn't mind, he was savoring the moment as he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Ma Kent—he could never refer to her as Martha, even in his head—had spoken her son's full name and, rightfully so, scared the bejesus out of him. He could appreciate that.
FLASHBACK
"Hey, ma," Clark greeted, briefly hugging her as she responded with her own "Hey, hon."
Stepping back, Clark motioned to Bruce. "Ma, this is Bruce. Bruce, this is my ma."
Bruce stepped closer, offering his hand, "Mrs. Kent, a pleasure."
Martha took his hand, impressing him by her firm grip. "Bruce. Is that alright? Call me Martha," at his almost imperceptible flinch she offered, "or Ma. Either is fine with me. Just none of that 'Mrs. Kent' stuff. That's too posh for me."
"Yes, ma'am," Bruce smiled slightly as he agreed to the use of his first name and her wish to not be referred to so formally.
"None of that 'ma'am' business either; makes me feel old," Martha pressed.
"Alright, Mar—Ma Kent," he tried, unable to make himself call her by the requested name.
"Alright, then. I suppose 'Ma Kent' will just haveta do." Martha smiled, showing fully that the name was fine with her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should wash up so I can get dinner started." As she walked back to the house, Clark turned to Bruce.
"Bruce." Clark had a tone that said 'really, man?'
"What?" Bruce asked, genuinely confused by the tone of voice Clark had used.
"Why can't you just use her name?"
Bruce raised an elegant eyebrow. "I did. She told me not to."
"Bruce," Clark stressed, gesturing with his hands to emphasize his point. "You know what I mean. She asked you to call her 'Martha.' What's so difficult about that?"
Bruce's eyebrows shot to his hairline before his eyes narrowed to slits. 'You're kidding me, right, Clark?' he thought incredulously. "…Sometimes," Bruce started, his tone colder than before, "I am convinced you are actually stupid," he hissed.
Bruce faintly recognized Ma Kent retracing her steps just as soon as the words left his lips. Both he and Clark turned to face her as she stopped directly in front of them. Bruce found himself on the receiving end of a stern look that nearly rivaled one of Alfred's. He could tell his lack of reaction to it surprised her a bit.
"Bruce Thomas Wayne," Ma Kent stated, sternly. Bruce couldn't help but stiffen automatically, his eyes widening slightly as he made eye contact with Ma Kent. "That's no way to talk to a friend."
She wheeled to face Clark. "And you," she poked her son in the chest. "Maybe Bruce is right, you can be dense. The poor boy's mother's name was also Martha! Obviously, he might have trouble calling me by his mother's name!"
Later, Bruce would appreciate how this single woman had stunned both Superman and Batman into a resolved quiet, having forced them to reevaluate themselves for their brief argument. At this moment, though, both he and Clark both stood slack jawed at Ma Kent, who stood there, with her arms crossed, giving them both 'you're in trouble' looks.
Bruce was the first to find his voice. To no one in particular, he quietly asked, "How… how does she know my full name?" 'Stupid. You're literally a celebrity. It shouldn't be surprising she knows your middle name, too.' He thought to himself, answering his own question.
Clark found his voice at that and whispered, "Don't question it, buddy. She just knows things."
Bruce couldn't resist a sassy response to that, Clark was asking for it. "No wonder you adjusted to me 'just knowing things' so quickly. Ow!" He threw a hand up to rub at the spot on the backside of his head where Ma Kent had just walloped him.
"Watch that tone," she explained, not in the least sounding sorry she'd smacked a perfect stranger, even if he was her son's best friend. "Did you hear anything I just said?"
"Yes, Ma Kent," Bruce mumbled, finally dropping his arm.
Once more, she turned her back on them and moved toward the house, muttering something about "stupid boys" under her breath.
"…Didn't I just get in trouble for that?" Bruce heard himself ask, mind still reeling, trying to analyze what just happened.
"Just don't," Clark responded softly, revealing his own astonishment at the situation.
PRESENT
Jonathan Kent, reclined on his boy's worn leather couch, winced slightly as Martha's tone as she growled their son's name. He barely relaxed back to enjoy his coffee before he felt the telltale whisper of wind signaling his boy's arrival through the window of the bedroom. He hid a grin in his cup as the waterworks started.
Lois looked up in surprise at the tone Martha had taken when she uttered Clark's full name. Seeing Martha had quickly moved to stand near the kitchen's exit, she opened her mouth to ask why before Clark, still clad in his full Superman suit, materialized on his knees in front of Martha with his arms wrapped tightly about her waist with his head buried in her front. Lois noted he seemed to be saying something.
Leaning off the counter and listening closely, she could make out, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Ma. Please, I'm sorry. Don't be mad at me, please, Ma." being repeated over and over. Smirking, Lois leaned fully against the cabinets behind her, letting herself take in the scene. Superman, the world's most powerful superhero, was on his knees, practically begging this wizened farmer's wife for forgiveness of a crime he probably wasn't even aware he'd committed; he just knew he was sorry for it and didn't want her wrath to fall upon him.
Well, Clark, I'd say this made it up to me. Lois thought to herself. As if sensing her thought, Martha looked over at Lois and smirked at her. Lois smiled back, crossed her arms, and winked. Martha turned back to her son, whose mumbled apologies and begs of forgiveness where muffled due to having his face pressed firmly against his mother's belly. Martha placed one hand on Clark's shoulder and another on his head, carding it through his hair.
The change in Clark's posture was dramatic, and in Lois' opinion, hilarious. His entire body unwound; his arms drooped, although they remained around Martha's waist; his shoulders crashed down and forward, and he dropped down to sit on his heels. The hand Martha had on his shoulder moved to cup his cheek as the hand on top of his head guided his head from her front. Clark complied, looking up at his mother as he lifted his face away from her. Lois' smirk widened as she got a good look at the expression on his face. He had tear tracks covering his cheeks and pure fear in his eyes. His eyes, Lois had to admit she was a tad jealous, were not red and puffy from crying; she assumed in must be his Kryptonian genetics. Nonetheless, the stricken and sorrowful look on his face had him back in Lois' good graces. Yeah, Clark, you've made it up to me.
(A/N): hope you guys liked this and apologies if the characters are OOC. Sure, I dramatized Clark's reaction a little bit, but that was kind of the whole point of this little ficlet. Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you liked it! And I do take constructive criticism, just please be nice! Thank you!