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Superman hugged the curvature of the Earth as he soared at amazing speed, his great crimson cape flapping behind him. His roved through the skies around him, cycling through his vast visual range- while simultaneously he did the same with his auditory abilities. A normal person might feel bombarded with so much stimuli, but Superman was clearly no ordinary man. His Kryptonian heritage empowered more than simply his muscles, allowing him to process information at quantities and speeds that boggled the mind. He sought anything, anything out of the ordinary.

This time of year brought out the best in most, but it also lulled some into a false sense of security. The date and time of the Christmas Part had been kept secret, and though Superman hadn't been very pleased about all the cloak-and-dagger, he knew it was a requisite if the League intended to invite so many associates and their families.

Luckily, everything had gone off without a hitch. Members had received their telepathic instructions of when and where to go to await teleport, and now Superman was finishing his sweep of the upper atmosphere, keeping an eye out for surveillance craft or satellites designed to hack into the Watchtower's security.

Finishing to his satisfaction, Superman arced up toward the familiar landscape of Northern Canada. In seconds he was approaching the high Arctic, and he quickly descended into the familiar shape of the Fortress. Shifting from flight to super-speed as he landed, Clark quickly raced through the building to his room. He showered for under a minute, then quickly dressed himself from the spare wardrobe he kept on hand.

It had been decided that capes weren't necessary, instead semi-formal attire was the order of the day. Clark waffled between just his blue dress shirt or throwing on a sport coat, deciding to go for the sport coat. Clark was halfway toward the teleporter, when he suddenly remembered something. “Oooh boy!” he said, rushing back to the fully furnished kitchen near his room. Moving at lightning speed, he peeled and sliced potatoes, and dropped them into a pot of water- which he brought to boiling with a light dose of heat vision. He raced back to the oven, and opened it to find the slightly overcooked pie he had made. Apple cinnamon- a secret Kent family recipe his mother had made him swear to take to his grave. He pulled it out and set it down on a tray, then rushed back to the potatoes. A few minutes of rushing and he was finished, a bowl of boiled potatoes under one arm, a carefully wrapped pie under the other.

The teleporter whirred softly and then Clark was aboard the Watchtower. The normally spartan station was unrecognizable- garlands of holly and wreaths hanging from the walls. Clark noticed a familiar set of ornaments hanging from the Christmas tree in the corner. He did a double take, then shook his head with a smile.

Martha Kent, you're worse than Lex Luthor. I can only imagine how many boxes of Chocos it took to get J'onn to let her on board... Clark made his way to the atrium, where the best view of Earth could be found, and thus where the party was set to take place. Half a dozen tables were set side by side, with immaculate place settings and silverware. A holographic fire crackled in the nearby corner.
“Arff!” barked the familiar figure of Krypto, the Superdog- wearing a pair of antlers and with a glowing red nose, and an expression of dismay on his face.

“We've all got problems boy” Clark said with a shrug, as he set his food down at the buffet table. The guests would be arriving any minute...