Every Season between December and May
Months of paparazzi stalking and tabloid speculation culminated in the simple farmhouse wedding on a fair September morning. After all, Senator Martha Kent was nineteen years older than her fiancé, not unheard of in these times but he had a reputation. Talking heads on entertainment shows insinuated much but proved nothing. Not all the speculation was cruel however; Sen. Kent held an unnaturally soft spot in the general populace. Some attributed it to her steely yet gentle demeanour, others to the equitable legislation she'd backed all her years in office, still others held her fruit pies responsible. President Ross himself was on record confessing an addiction to Sen. Kent's apple pie. Fortunately, he was one of the guests at the wedding, seated on the bride's side.
Clark pulled the curtains aside. "I think everyone's here. The groom looks like he needs to pee."
"Oh, Clark." Smiling, Martha started to hold her arms out for a hug but her matron-of-honour stuffed a bouquet in her hands. Ten years later, Lois Lane still ordered them around but this time, she was officially family. She and Clark were married in the same acre three years ago.
Lois smacked his arm lightly. "Can you two macho guys stop bad-mouthing each other just for today?" she scolded.
"Are you kidding me? This is our way of bonding," said Clark.
"You're going to ruin it for your mom."
"Impossible." Clark turned to fully face Martha. "Any day where I see her smile this wide is a perfect day."
After a sentence like that, how could a mother do anything but give him a hug and to hell with her bouquet. He didn't lift her into the air in deference to her wedding dress so he just squeezed harder.
"Are you sure you're all right with this?" Martha asked.
"If you're happy, Mom, I'm happy," he said. "A part of me doesn't want to think of you as anything but Jonathan Kent's wife but I know you'll always love him. Your heart is just that big."
"Big enough to love you, too."
"Okay, you two, break it up before I bawl and ruin my make-up. I'm not feeling brave enough to wield that mascara wand so close to my eyes again." Lois fussed over all their clothes. "Your tie's crooked, Smallville. Mom, just hold still that lily is-- there! Perfect. Where the heck is our entrance song?"
On cue (because no one wanted to be the one who ruined Lois Lane's plans), a string quartet played Pachelbel's Canon in D Minor. Lois positioned herself in front of the door, covering Martha and Clark.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" Lois twirled around to give Martha a quick peck on the cheek. "You've been the mother I've always wanted. Thank you for taking me in and letting me have my wicked way with your son."
"It was a pleasure and an honour to watch you grow up, Lois," said Martha. "I couldn't think of anyone better for my boy. Also, he was running out of things to damage on the farm; Metropolis has more buildings."
Clark rolled his eyes. "I get no love."
Lois threw him a kiss before pushing the front door open and stepping out into the porch.
An ivory carpet led from the porch, around the veranda to the cleared acre on the eastern side of the farm house. Small pots of decorative grasses and lilies held the carpet down, marking the length Lois walked past the slip-covered chairs to the canopied dais. She winked at the groom as she took her position.
"You're sweating, Grumpy."
"Shut up, Lane." He nearly lifted a hand to wipe his brow but, remembering their audience, he kept his hands at his side. Behind him, the eldest of his three sons sniggered. "I'm going to get you, too."
"Promises, promises," said the younger man. He grinned at Lois. Now Lois was ecstatically married but that guy's grin should be a registered weapon capable of turning all straight women and all gay men within three miles into puddles of goo.
The crowd shuffled and shushed. Martha had turned the corner with Clark on her arm. It was a cliché but the bride really was radiant. Her dress was simple and elegant, ivory with peach accents, the hem just brushing her ankles. Instead of a veil, an arrangement of grasses, ferns and lilies fixed her hair back then swept down and behind her head. Her bouquet was round and matched the hairpiece.
Clark held her arm all the way down the aisle but in his opinion, she floated the whole way down. His chest panged; he hadn't seen her spirits this high since his dad was alive. Feared and respected as she was on Capitol Hill, Martha Kent was never happier than when she could give her love away. As her son, Clark saw it as his duty to make sure the love she gave wasn't wasted. When they reached the dais, he moved slightly forward to block the groom's outstretched hand. He took it instead, squeezing hard enough to elicit whimpers from any other man.
"Wayne." Clark smiled toothily. "Love her more than life, air and Gotham, and I won't have to throw you into the sun."
"Let my hand go and try it," said Bruce, also smiling widely.
Lois rolled here eyes. "Men."
Clark wouldn't release the handshake until Bruce whimpered and Bruce would rather announce his secret identity as Batman before he gave Clark the satisfaction.
Bruce's eldest son, Dick, coughed. "Is it one of the best man's functions to keep blood off the tuxes?"
Martha ended the stalemate by standing between them. "I'd like to be married before my pies cool."
They immediately jumped to do her bidding. Such was Sen. Kent's power that Clark Kent, multiple Kerth winner and sometime alien superhero, and Bruce Wayne, billionaire and sometime masked vigilante, obeyed her without question. And so it was that the judge began the ceremony with a minute waver in his voice. "Dearly beloved..."
When the papers were signed and the wedding kiss exchanged, Clark shook Bruce's hand again. "Welcome to the family."
"Half an hour ago, you were ready to pull my arm out of its socket," said Bruce.
"Half an hour ago, I didn't see you looking at my mom the way I look at my wife," said Clark.
Dick, Jay and Tim bounded over to slap backs and exchange hugs. Dick held Bruce's only biological son, Terry, who had napped in his bouncer through the entire ceremony. "We're all officially brothers!" Dick said.
"Whoop-dee-doo." Jay made a twirling motion with his finger.
"It's a good thing we look alike," said Tim. "Jay's a redhead like Martha and Dick, me, Terry and Clark all look like Bru-- Dad."
A mischievous light gleamed in Clark's eye. Unfortunately, Lois didn't see it quickly enough to stop him. Bruce and Martha were halfway down the aisle when Clark caught up with them. He slung an arm around Bruce, his grin now maniacal.
"So, this means you're my step-dad, right?"
Bruce nodded warily.
"Can I borrow the Porsche? Or the Jet? Did you leave enough for me in your will that I'd be tempted to ingratiate myself into your good graces or, alternatively, murder you and blame it on the butler?"
"I don't believe in bribery," said Bruce, "just corporal punishment."
Martha giggled as Clark batted his eyes. "Does this mean you don't want me to call you Pa?" His exaggerated Midwestern accent nearly drove the other boys into hysterics.
Lois pushed through the well-wishers. "Out of the way, people! Mad Dog to the rescue. I'm so sorry, Mom, I forgot to put the choke chain on him this morning."
"That's an uncomfortable insight into your lovelife, Kent," Bruce growled.
Clark flushed bright red.
"Clark, give your mom and hug and a kiss and help me drag the photographer away from the appys," said Lois. "We have to eat too and it's not going to happen if he's one, eating it all and two, late for the wedding photographs. Congratulations Bruce! Make her happy or I'll tear your nuts off and stuff them down your throat with a flare gun."
"Why is everyone threatening Bruce?" asked Martha. "Aren't I capable of making my own happiness?"
Her family stopped. "Of course. You are happiness, Mom."
And that was pretty much the best moment of the whole affair.