stands_for_hope | The Double K Farm for At Risk Youth

It got him a smile. "That's what I'm best at. And it makes me feel better to make other people feel better."

Clark just smiled again and nodded.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." And surely Clark knew that he meant it.

It was a few months down the line that the FLAG van made it's way to the parking lot behind the pharmacy. They would have preferred to go right to the farm that they'd heard about, but the instructions had been quite clear.

Michael was still mostly in full retirement. He'd thought about getting a job, and he did do some odd jobs here and there and helped out on Martha's farm, but the money wasn't needful, and he liked having time open to spend with Mike.

But one thing he'd been clear about was that the boys needed to be protected. Anything that FLAG dug up for him, he screened, and he talked about with Martha and Clark before he said yes. That was why, now, he'd finally said yes to a few people from parts of FLAG that were actually a little more public than he was. And one of them, at least, was bouncing with news. Michael didn't know that until he'd come downstairs to meet the van, to speak to them, and only then call Martha to see if it was okay for them to come.

"Well, we're home," Martha said, clearly nervous from a young lifetime worth of worries about this very thing. But she trusted Michael. And she knew that her little boy needed more than she could give him.

"And the boys are all done with their work and their schoolwork. It's a good time." A pause and then--

"Are you bringing Mike with you?"

"I am," he said. "I wouldn't dream of not having him here for something like this." He knew how close all their boys had gotten - they were a unit of four, sure, but within that unit of four, there seemed to be a few smaller units, too. And Clark and Mike were one of those units. He wasn't going to deny Clark his 'unit.'

"Thank you. I appreciate it. I know Clark will be happy to have Mike there."

She breathed in.

"Is there anything I need to prepare? They're not going to make me fill out any paperwork or anything, right? And is there anything I should tell Clark about it specifically?"

There was a smile in Michael's voice when he said, "No paperwork. No more details than you want to give them. The only thing I can think of that you might want to tell the boys is that one of the people who'll be there is..." He paused, then shrugged. "Well. She's purple."

Martha put her hand over her mouth for a moment in astoundment. Then, after a nervous chuckle, she got herself settled.

"Well, is she a nice woman?"

"She's... Maybe a little overwhelming, but she's nice. I think she might vibrate the shocks off the van if she gets any more excited. It's not her power or anything - she's just excited."

"As long as she's nice, we shouldn't have any troubles. Now... do they like meatloaf? Cause I'm going to have to feed them if they come by, especially since they're here to help, and I have all the things for meatloaf, but I can whip something else up if they'd like something else."

Michael paused for a few long moments before offering, "How about I drive through on the way and bring a lot of KFC, and then you provide dessert? That's easier on you, less stress for everybody. I'll make sure to bring something for Clark, too."

"Thank you, Michael. I appreciate that a lot."

She breathed in on the phone.

"I'll go get the boys set and toss a couple of pies into the oven. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this all. See you soon."

"We'll be there in about twenty minutes," Michael promised. "See you."

And then he was making another phone call to a place there in town he'd wheedled into adding something to their menu, and another call to KFC. He placed his orders (a ridiculous amount of chicken, potatoes, gravy, mac and cheese, baked beans, corn on the cob-- basically, some of everything) and then gathered Mike to go pick things up and go out to the Kent farm.

True to what he'd said, twenty minutes later, Kitt was driving up the driveway, followed by a black van that looked menacing - accidentally. He parked Kitt in the garage, and the van... Well, the van parked beside the garage, carefully placed so as not to take up too much space.

Martha went to the front door and walked out, watching the van carefully and waiting for Michael to come out of the garage to make introductions.

Mike and Michael were both laden with red and white striped bags - you could practically smell the chicken even that far away. Kitt had groused about smelling like fast food for the next week, but he didn't actually begrudge them. It was just in his nature to grouse.

The van, though, gave over five people, and the first one out was the purple woman Michael had talked about. Indeed she was purple, with short, curly purple hair that bobbed above her shoulders. Besides her colouration, she looked normal: short, just a few inches over five feet, smiling, eager, happy, wearing jeans and sneakers and a T-shirt, with a satchel slung over one shoulder. Behind her came another woman, this one tall and willowy, almost looking like she would topple over in a strong breeze, her skin a warm brown and her hair long and straight, down past her hips. There was something about her eyes that said plainly that she wasn't exactly human.

A third woman climbed from behind the driver's wheel, and her muscle made it obvious just what her specialty was. Her hair was vibrantly orange, her skin spattered with freckles. Another was hard to pin down as male or female at a glance, but they were smiling, content-seeming, even a little eager with a head full of dark curls bobbing as they spoke with the purple-skinned girl. And finally, there was a man who was there outside the van one moment, gone the next, and then back, placing the handle of a large, hard-sided case in the hand of the woman who had been driving - who carried it like it was nothing.

"Hi," Michael called. "I come bearing food - and company."

Martha was about to step out when Clark went first, looking at each member of the new team for a moment before his head tilted a little. Curious, his focus went on Michael and Mike then, as if he'd never decided to look at them before, before shaking it off with an expression of wonder on his face.

"So I see," Martha shouted out with a good-natured grin and a tip of her head to the new arrivals. "How about you all come in and we can do introductions?"

Her hand was tight on Clark's shoulder.

"That sounds great." He motioned for the FLAG people to follow him, and they did. The girl in purple had a notable skip in her step, while the tallest didn't really seem to walk as much as float - and if anyone watched her feet, they'd notice she didn't really seem to touch the ground.

But all of them did seem happy, eager, friendly - nothing dangerous about them at all. If anything, they seemed to be making a point of being nonthreatening.

Bucky peeked out of the door behind Martha and Clark, just as curious as they were, but making an effort to be polite.

"I hope everybody likes what I've got here. Chicken in original and extra crispy, a few pieces of roast chicken, and for Clark..." He paused at the top of the steps before reaching into the top of one bag and producing a smaller paper bag that he handed over. "Four grilled bell peppers with mushroom stuffing."

Clark took the bag with an obvious smile of delight before leaning in to sniff at the bag with a happy sigh. He deposited it on the table before returning to his mother's side, leaning in to support her a little as she bowed her head and offered a smile to the new arrivals.

"Well," she started easily, "I'm Martha, and this is my son, Clark. Clark, sweetheart, these people are the ones Michael said he'd ask about... you. And your abilities. They're here to help."

Clark nodded up at her before tipping his chin to them warily.

"They're all different," he said carefully, eyes sliding around the room, "their DNA is different."

Then he turned to look at Michael and Mike.

"But I just looked and so's yours, a little."

Michael blinked, looking between him and Mike, and he shrugged. "I don't feel different. But if you say so, well, you're better equipped to know than I am. And I guess Mike inherited it, too."

"So... So I do have something?" Mike halfway bounced and Michael chuckled.

"Guess so, kiddo. But we'll figure it out later - right now, introductions." Michael motioned for them to come up. "Martha, Clark--"

Swaying to the side, he added, "Bucky.

"This is Meghan York--" he indicated the purple-skinned girl, who bounced a little on the balls of her feet and waved.

"Ahdri Panos--" The thin woman whose feet weren't touching the ground.

"Neala Murphy--" The red-haired woman who was thick with muscle.

"Emin Kartal--" The young man who had been so fast around the van.

"And Bani Cyle." The person who still didn't look committed to a gender, and seemed perfectly happy with that.

"They're all operatives from FLAG, and all of them have some sort of ability, like you, Clark."

Meghan grinned and, splaying her hands before her, set off a tiny little fireworks show between them. "Sometimes I do that when I get excited, without even trying to. Hi!"

The little fireworks event had Clark giggle just a little.

"It's all right," he said softly to her, "sometimes... when I'm really happy I--"

And he closed his eyes and a peaceful little smile lit his face and his feet lifted a few inches off the ground for a moment before he plopped back down.

Beside Meghan, Ahdri gave the faintest smile and lifted further off of the ground than she already was, drawing up her knees until she was perched in midair like most would be perched on a couch. "Like this," she murmured, her voice soft but somehow echo-y. "But yours is different. Yours is in your heart. Mine is in my head."

"There's other stuff I have to think about. But that's... feeling."

He was agreeing with her. He watched her curiously and closed his eyes again, slowly lifting up and pulling his knees up against himself. He held it for a moment before dropping back down on the ground feet first.

"It's a little weird."

"You adjust." Bani gave Clark a friendly smile. "Why don't we all sit down and have some food? We can talk about what we can do and eat at the same time."

It was Emin who volunteered, "I'll set the food out," and in less than a breath, and a familiar puff of air, the table had the chicken and sides appealingly arranged with plastic cutlery at each chair - he hadn't presumed enough to get out plates. That was a degree of nosy that he just didn't have.

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