"Pfft, he's way too young to have any idea why that would matter. We have to keep him from running off outside after his bath before Mom and Dad have gotten clothes on him again." 

"I don't know much about kids." He lets the cupping hand drop, and offers the waving hand for William to shake. "Do you shake hands with them, or is that some kind of faux pas?"

William solemnly grasps his finger. 

"I don't think it's a faux pas, but the difference in hand size could make it difficult," Clara says. 

Martha returns with a shirt and a pair of pants. 

Xan dons the pants and, somewhat more reluctantly, the shirt. "Thanks, M- Mrs. Kent."

Too soft to be heard with non-super hearing, Clara asks, "Were you about to call her 'Mom' or 'Martha'?"

"The latter," he subvocalizes. "She's not my Martha, but there's... a resemblance."

"You call your parents by their first names a lot and you referred to your Jonathan as your 'adoptive' father even before it was established that we were both from Krypton, are you not close?"

"They weren't my parents. Neither were Jor-El and Lara, before you ask, this isn't some castle-on-a-cloud birth parents thing, just. Not my parents. I lived in their house, and they fed me, and they weren't my parents any more than your parents will be if I end up living here."

"--Okay. Sorry. I didn't know." 

At a more normal volume: "He's from the sixties but he wasn't adopted by Grandfather Hiram, he was taken in by people also named Jonathan and Martha Kent, you look kind of like his timeline's Martha but not entirely, it's a little weird." 

Again, subvocally: "I won't tell her or anyone anything personal that you haven't agreed to, but she's--a safe person to tell things to." 

"Thanks."

Aloud, he says "It's lovely to meet you, ma'am. If you need any help around the farm for putting me up, I can drive a tractor and lift well over a ton."

Martha laughs. "So can Clara. We're fine." 

"But if I ever burn something into the barn by accident again, you're welcome to paint over it while I'm still trying to get my eyes under control." 

Martha rolls her eyes fondly and ruffles her daughter's hair. 

Clara hands William to their mother. "Anyway, now that he's dressed, I told Xan I'd show him the Kawatche caves. His timeline doesn't have 'em, he had some stuff in his ship instead." 

"Alright. Have fun." 

Xan follows Clara out.

He exhales a bit shakily. "That went well."

"What are your Kents like?"

"...They care about a lot of things. Civil rights, mostly, various stripes; their shelves are all Communist literature and To Kill a Mockingbird. They're Evangelicals, and I don't think they buy everything Pastor Carmichael's selling but they still took me to church every week and on the holidays. They might've been hippies, if the movement came a couple decades earlier, but they're too set for that now."

He grits his teeth. "They think I'm... wrong. I said a lot of shit - did a lot of shit - as a kid before I knew what people are supposed to be like, and it scared the hell out of them."

"...Oh geez. I'm sorry." 

"Thanks. I'm well clear of them now, much good may it do us both."

"I've ever been inside a church building but pretty much everyone in my family is agnostic of some stripe and, like, my dad worries any about me hurting people but if I actually did I'm sure he'd lecture me a lot but he wouldn't think I was wrong. We argue a lot but it's--always from a place of mutual love and respect. I'm really sorry you didn't get to have that." 

"In fairness I was a pretty fucking awful kid. How are we getting to these caves, anyway? Walking, driving, flying?"

"I like running for getting places people are liable to spot a flyer." 

"Cool. I'll follow when you're ready."

She grins at him, and then she is a blur in the general direction of the caves.