Previously on Seed of Doubt...
"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in," Cat Grant said as Lois and Clark made their way through the bullpen. She sauntered over to Lois' desk to meet them, leaning against the side and filing her nails with a hot pink emery board, the back of which was bejeweled with darker and lighter pink crystals.
Lois observed for a moment while Cat sharpened her claws. "Chasing mice again?" she retorted.
"Men, Lois. Men. Or have you forgotten the thrill of the hunt? Oh, wait, that's right. You never knew it with how sad your life was." She pointed at Lois with the nail file as she spoke. "Poor Clark, feeling obligated being with you, now that you're pregnant."
"I'm not obligated to do anything," Clark wearily defended. He felt like it was nearly a lost cause, arguing with Cat. "I love her."
"That's because you don't know what else is out there. All the other flavors of the world," Cat said, winking at him. "Why stick with chocolate ice cream when there are so many other, richer, desserts out there?"
"Because I happen to think that chocolate ice cream is the perfect dessert," Clark said.
"Wait a second," Cat said, catching sight of Lois' ring. She grabbed Lois' hand for a better look. "What is this?"
"Some of us don't want to span the world looking for other flavors when we're in love with the one we already have," Lois said, grinning wolfishly.
"So you two..."
"Are engaged," Clark finished for Cat.
"It took getting knocked up for a guy to want to marry you?" Cat needled Lois.
"Jealous much?" Lois asked, arching an eyebrow, overriding the defense Clark was trying to make.
"Jealous?" Cat asked, as if the word held no known meaning.
"Well, it's just that you're older than me. I've never seen you with a steady boyfriend. Clark here rejected your advances how many times in favor of being with me? Yeah, jealous." Lois crossed her arms, a smug look on her face, knowing she'd scored a point in the bizarre game between them that Clark still didn't fully understand, and probably never would, if he was any judge.
Cat's mouth flapped open for a moment. Clearly she hadn't been expecting Lois' retort. Clark though he saw a small, remote, but very real flash of hurt in Cat's eyes. It was there and gone within seconds, but it did make him feel badly. Lois must have seen the same thing.
"Cat, I..." she began.
Cat put her hand up before her face to silence Lois. "No. Congratulations. You've won."
"Cat, I didn't win anything," Lois protested. "Clark and I just...fit, that's all. I'm sure, someday, you'll find someone."
"Oh, I know I will. In fact, I'm going out with Arthur Chow tonight."
"Going...out?" Clark asked. "Like a date?"
Cat nodded in a satisfied manner.
"How'd you manage that?" Lois asked, crossing her arms incredulously.
"Oh, Arthur and I belong to the same fund raising committee for the downtown modern art museum."
"You?" Lois asked, her voice clearly showing Cat her disbelief in such a thing. "But that place is so...so...cultured," she ended weakly.
"I do have interests outside of the gossip circuit," Cat snorted.
"We know that, Cat," Clark said, trying to smooth things between the two women. "It's just...well, Arthur Chow is known to be pretty straight-laced and conservative. And you're...uh...free-spirited."
Cat snorted and filed a pinky nail. "Oh, I can play the part Arthur wants to see."
"CK? Lois?" Jimmy said, interrupting. "The Chief's asking for you. Said he wanted to talk to you about some meeting today?" he informed them, clearly confused.
"Right," Lois covered smoothly. "Our interview. Come on, Clark."
She took Clark by the hand and led him away toward Perry's office before he could utter a word.
***
Clark tossed and turned in his bed, caught in the gray fog between sleep and waking. His limbs were heavy and it felt almost like he was paralyzed in that in-between state of being. He thought he might have grunted as he forced himself to finally break free of the nightmare bonds that held him to his dreams. When he finally woke, his eyes snapped open and his heart was racing. For several minutes, he lay there in his bed, unmoving, as he fought to regain his normal heart rate. When he finally felt as close to normal as he could, he sat up, tossed the blankets aside, and stood. He didn't bother grabbing a shirt as he strode out of the room and onto his terrace. Once out in the cooling night air, he finally felt as if the horrors of his dreams were beginning to dissipate.
It had been a week ago, when the judge had demanded that a paternity test be conducted on Lois' unborn child. An entire week where the dread of those results had sat like a stone in Clark's stomach. Seven whole days since his guts had been twisted into tight knots. One hundred and sixty-eight hours where old doubts that Clark had thought he'd squashed months ago had resurfaced like oozing sores in his mind.
Clark sighed as he looked out over the limited view his terrace afforded him, remnants of his nightmare still wrapped around him like invisible chains. He leaned against the sturdy brick of his apartment and tried to focus on the nightmare which had torn his sleep asunder. He'd been back at the hostage situation he'd attended to much earlier in the night. But this time, in his dream, he'd made every wrong decision and all those innocent people had died. The thought made him shudder in the night and he instinctively wrapped his arms around his bare chest. It was rare that he had such dreams now. Back when he'd first conjured up the idea of Superman and had made a few, cautious "test" rescues, as he'd thought of them at the time, the nightmares had been much more frequent. As he'd learned to shed the Superman persona along with the suit, he'd found that his sleep was usually deep and restful, and that the nightmares which had once plagued him had become almost a thing of the past.
Now, though, it appeared that the stress of the pending paternity test and the answers it would definitively yield had invaded his mind deeply enough to disturb his precious sleep. Glancing back through the window into his bedroom, he saw that it was still not yet midnight. He went back inside, pulled on his suit and some spare civilian clothing, then went back out. Spinning into the Superman uniform that had defined his alien origins for so long now, he flew into the blackened and overcast sky. He made a quick patrol over the city, but found it to be blissfully quiet, as far as nights in Metropolis got.
After a quick stop at his favorite twenty-four hour coffee shop for a plain cake donut, he took to the sky once again, this time angling for Smallville. He landed on his parent's porch with no more than the lightest whisper of sound. They were still awake, he could see, from the flicking light of the television illuminating the living room. He knocked on the door.
"Mom? Dad? It's me," he called out into the otherwise still and quiet night.
"Clark?" his father asked with a wrinkle of concern in his brow as he answered the door. "Is everything okay, son?"
"Everything's fine," Clark assured his father as he embraced him in a quick hug. He followed Jonathan into the living room and hugged his mother. "I know it's late and you guys probably want to go to bed soon," he added, "but, I was hoping I could talk to you guys for a bit."
"Honey, what's wrong?" Martha asked.
"I just...I needed to ask you both something. I'm just not sure how to go about asking," he said, grasping for words now that he was actually home with his parents.
"Honey, you know you can talk to us about anything," Martha assured him, sipping from her cup of tea and setting aside the book she'd apparently be reading before he'd arrived. She hit the power button on the remote to turn the television off.
"Please...don't take this the wrong way," Clark pleaded. "But when you guys were looking into adoption...before you found me...did you ever...have doubts?"
"Doubts?" Martha asked. "What kind of doubts?"
"Well...things like...if you could love a child that wasn't your own," Clark said, resting his forearm against the mantle of the fireplace as he came to stand before it.
"Clark? Are you having doubts about Lois' child?" Jonathan asked.
Clark sighed, his body slumping in frustration. "Sometimes," he admitted. "I mean, I've always wanted to be a father. But, sometimes I wonder...am I going to be able to love this child, if he or she turns out to be Luthor's? And, let's face it, that's almost certainly the case. I trust Dr. Klein when he says that my chances of fathering a child with an Earth woman are slim to none. Am I going to be able to set aside my hatred of Luthor for the sake of this baby?"
"Son, you don't know for sure that this baby isn't yours," Jonathan reminded him.
"I know," Clark conceded after the most brief of hesitations. "But, again, the chance of this baby being mine is...it's underwhelming, to say the least."
"And remember," Martha put in. "Whatever the sins of the father might be, this baby is innocent."
"I know that too. But...I'm afraid. Afraid that when I find out for sure that he or she is Luthor's child, that I'll never be able to look at him or her without shuddering with the knowledge of the crime that lead to his or her conception."
Clark sat heavily in an armchair. He buried his face in his hands for several long moments. After a time, he looked up again.
"Most of the time, I love that baby," he said at length. "In fact, the love I already have for that baby is pretty much all-encompassing. But then, out of the blue, these doubts will creep up in my mind. I'm...I'm ashamed of them. They've been especially frequent ever since Lois was mandated to have the child's paternity established. I can hardly eat. I can barely sleep without nightmares cropping up."
"Have you talked to Lois about these doubts?" Jonathan wanted to know.
Clark shook his head. "No. She's got enough to deal with. I don't want to scare her by making her think that I'm going to abandon her and the baby. Because I'm not. I'm completely committed to her. And I will be there for this child, no matter what. I just...wonder about how much of an emotional bond I'll be able to forge with this child when I know for sure that he or she isn't mine. I mean, for the time being, I can at least pretend that I have a chance of being related to this child by blood. So...did you guys ever have that fear?"
"I was more afraid that we'd never have a child at all," Martha said, shaking her head. "I don't think I really thought much passed that. I was afraid of getting rejected and even more afraid of being accepted as potential adoptive parents but then having no one choose us to raise their child."
"I did," Jonathan admitted, sounding somewhat sheepish, his head hanging slightly.
"Jonathan! You never said a word to me!" Martha replied, shocked.
"I couldn't," Jonathan said simply, his cheeks red. "I didn't want to worry you. And then we got denied, so it seemed pointless to bring it up. What good would it have served at that point?"
"We could have worked through those fears together," Martha argued.
Jonathan shrugged, the movement somehow making him look smaller, in Clark's eyes. "You were going through enough as it was. I didn't want to burden you with my issues, especially when I wasn't even sure how to give the right words to what I was feeling."
"Were you afraid of becoming a father?" Clark wanted to know. He knew that wasn't the case for him, personally. In fact, he'd been looking forward to being a father for much of his life.
"Yes and no," Jonathan replied, looking into the distance, lost in his own memories. Clark wondered what ghosts of the past were floating before his eyes. "I wanted to be a father. I knew, somehow, that there would be no joy in my life equal to what a joy it would be to have a son or daughter to love. I'd hoped, like your mother, to fill this house with the laughter and love of children - two or three was what we'd initially hoped for."
Jonathan sighed over the dream that had been lost, of having a larger family. "And then we found out that it would never be. For a while, I was angry. Angry at the world, at God, but mostly at myself, knowing that there was nothing I could do to make your mother's dream come true - of making my own dream come true. When we finally began to seriously consider adoption, yes, I admit I was apprehensive about everything - the invasive questions and home inspections, the worry that I might not bond with a child that wasn't mine, the fear that I would make a strong bond with the child only to have the mother decide that she wanted her baby back."
"Well, I doubt Lois will take the baby from me," Clark teased weakly.
Jonathan chuckled. "Not likely. I've seen the way she looks at you, son. I've rarely seen love as deep and pure as what the two of you share."
"I'm a lucky man," Clark agreed, nodding.
"And we're thrilled for you," Martha put in.
"So...how did you deal with it?" Clark asked, feeling slightly comforted by his father's admission, and wanting to find some way to deal with his own anxieties.
"What do you mean?" Jonathan asked, unsure of what Clark was getting at.
"I mean...what changed? When did it change for you? How did you know that you could truly love a child that wasn't your own?"
"I saw you," Jonathan answered with a fond smile.
"That's it?" It seemed that his father's answer was too simple.
"That's it," he confirmed with a nod. "As soon as I saw your little face peeking out from that blanket your birth parents had wrapped you in, my fears and doubts vanished. You weren't someone else's child. You were my son."
Clark gave his father a wobbly smile, stood, and crossed back over to the fireplace. It was reassuring to hear that he wasn't the only man in the world who'd experienced doubts over becoming a father to a child he hadn't physically sired. On the other hand, Jonathan and Martha hadn't been faced with the choice of raising a child who was the product of a violent crime. Still, it helped ease his mind just enough to uncoil some of the shame he'd been feeling over having such doubts in the first place.
"Thanks," was all he could say.
Jonathan nodded. "That's what we're here for, son."
"Was there anything else you wanted to talk to us about?" Martha asked.
Clark shook his head. "Not really. I guess I just wanted to know that I'm not the only one out there who has had those irritating little doubts in the middle of the night, the kind that keep you awake for hours - and, in my case, drive me out of bed to fly around the city on patrol, in hopes of clearing my head a little."
"And do you feel better now?" Martha asked, her voice conveying only curiosity and concern.
"Actually, yeah, I think so," Clark said. Then, after a moment of pondering the pictures on the mantle which showed him at various stages of his own childhood, a thought struck him. "Hey, can I just run upstairs for a second?" he asked.
"Of course. But what for?" Martha asked.
"I just want to grab something from my old room," he said, shrugging, even as he pushed himself away from the fireplace. "Back in a minute."
He mounted the stairs two at a time in his haste. When he stepped into the room which had once been his bedroom and his haven away from the world, he stopped and took a deep breath, savoring the once-familiar smells. The oaken chest of drawers which had once housed his clothing. The cedar toy box in the corner, which he clearly remembered his father building. Truth be told, it was probably one of the very first memories Clark had, as he'd watched his father measuring, cutting, and hammering the wood from the safety of Martha's lap at the tender age of two and a half. The dusty smell of the old childhood books on the tall bookshelf in the corner of the room.
It brought further peace to his soul.
After half a minute, he stepped deeper into the room, his eyes searching. He x-rayed the toy box first, but didn't see what he was after. He swept his eyes to the bookshelf and frowned. It wasn't there either, nor was it atop his chest of drawers. He knelt down, thinking of one possible, final place. He peeked beneath the bed and found the storage bin sitting there. He pulled the dark green plastic box out, popped open the lid, and immediately found what he sought. He grinned as he gently extracted the item from amid the tin robots and hard plastic dinosaurs of his youth, then he pushed the box back beneath the bed.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Jonathan asked, meeting him at the base of the steps.
"I did," Clark said as he jogged down the steps. He showed his father his prize.
"Ah," Jonathan said with a tender smile. "Are you going to give that to Lois?"
"Not right away," he replied. "Probably closer to the delivery date."
"What did you...? Oh, my, I haven't seen that in years," Martha said as Clark strode back into the living room.
"Me too," Clark said. "But something about dad's story made me think of this. Anyway, thanks for putting my mind at ease a little bit. Mom? Did you want me to come fly you out for Lois' shower in a couple of weeks?"
"No, dear. Your father and I will fly out the regular way," Martha said, getting up from the couch and hugging her son.
"You know that you don't have to do that," Clark told her. "I'm happy to fly you guys out, whenever you want."
"We know and we appreciate the offer," Jonathan said. "But it's good for us to have a paper trail of where we've been. Besides, you'll probably be busy enough without needing to worry about us too."
"It's no problem," Clark insisted.
"We know. But we're fine, really."
"Okay," Clark said in mock defeat, throwing his hands before his face in surrender. "You win. Anyway, I should get going. I know you guys get up early with the harvest and everything. I'd come out for the day and help if I could, but I'm trying to save up as much time at work as I can before the baby arrives."
"We understand," Martha said sincerely. "Go on. Go home and get some rest. You look tired."
Clark couldn't argue with that. He was awfully tired from a week of nearly sleepless nights and fractured rest when he did manage to nod off.
"Okay," he said. "Night, Mom. Night, Dad. And thanks. I didn't realize just how badly I needed to talk things out until just now when I finally did. It really helped."
"Goodnight, honey," Martha said, pecking his cheek briefly. "Tell Lois we said hi, okay?"
"Will do," he promised.
As he exited the house and took to the sky, he heard his father say "Did we raise a good boy or what?" That made him smile to himself. He'd always been grateful for having found parents to love him unconditionally. But he'd also always been very, very aware of just how thankful his parents were that they had been the ones to stumble upon the smoking remains of a crashed spacecraft, one which held the most precious cargo in the world - a tiny child they had been able to love and call their own.
Clark made a beeline for Metropolis, racing at nearly top speed, eager now to crawl back into his bed. He did one more swift patrol, but found nothing so dire that it needed his attention. It was the middle of the week and most people were abed at that hour, with mostly just stray dogs and cats prowling around, as well as the occasional rat, especially wherever a dumpster appeared. He heard the squealing of a dying rodent as a cat pounced and secured its meal.
He circled around Lois' building three times, ensuring that there were no imminent threats, but found only Cedric out on the stoop, smoking a cigar in the cold night's air. Lois' windows were dark and lifeless - not even the barest hint of the television or computer's glow could be seen. He focused in with his hearing and found her steady heartbeat. It was even and almost calm, the way it always sounded when she was asleep. He smiled fondly, wishing he could go to her. Instead, he directed his flight path back home.
As soon as he was safely and snuggly back in his apartment, he shed the Superman persona and slipped back into the soft sleeping pants he'd been in earlier. He took his prize from Smallville and placed it in the black duffel bag he'd only just recently prepared for the hospital, once it came time for Lois to have her baby. Metropolis General allowed fathers to sleep right in the room with the mothers and their babies, a thing unheard of in any other hospital in the state of New Troy. Clark loved the idea - he didn't want to miss a second of his baby's life, once he or she made their arrival.
Finally, exhausted, he crawled back into his bed. This time, sleep took him to a deep, dreamless, restful place until his alarm woke him in the morning.
***
Weeks came and went in the blink of an eye. Lois' stomach and the child within grew larger. Clark grew more and more ready to meet his child, and, though the lingering doubts he still harbored never fully dissipated, they shrank measurably. As before, he did not mention those doubts to Lois. He didn't want to scare her, and he was still too ashamed of his fears to admit them aloud to her.
Instead, he focused on the here and now, the things he could fix and change. He relished his work and the satisfaction of bringing criminals to justice - regardless of what suit he wore. He luxuriated in every moment spent with Lois, especially the quiet moments at night, after the stresses of the day had melted away and it was just the two of them, all snuggled up at one or the other's apartment. It didn't matter what they talked about - further debates about baby names, ideas for their future wedding, what movie they should watch. Clark loved every bit of it and remained staggered by the normalcy of it all. There were times where it still felt like half a dream that Lois had agreed to marry him.
October rolled on, unseasonably warm for the city. Lois' birthday came, and Clark did his best to make it the most memorable one she'd ever had. He took her to the museum exhibit he knew she'd been wanting to see, then to her favorite restaurants for lunch and dinner - both local at her request - and even secured her a massage at the premier spa in Metropolis. He hoped that it wouldn't be too much for her, but she claimed her energy level was still pretty high, considering that she had a good two to two and a half months left before the baby would be arriving.
"Are you up for one last birthday adventure?" he asked as Lois finished the last bite of her crème brulee.
"After a meal like that, you might have to roll me wherever it is you want to go," she warned him with a cheeky smile.
Clark chuckled. "Don't worry, we'll drive there."
"Where, exactly, is there?" she asked.
Clark grinned. "Not telling."
"Why not?"
"Because," he said, drawing the word out as though explaining to a child, "it's a surprise."
"Clark, you know how I feel about most surprises," Lois said, arching an eyebrow.
"I know," he said, his hands before him in a gesture of pacification. "But just go with me on this, okay? Trust me."
Lois sighed before agreeing. "Fine. But this had better be a good surprise."
"Well, I'm certainly hoping it will be," Clark said, just as the waiter came back with his credit card. He put a down a cash tip in the middle of the table. "Shall we?" he asked Lois.
Lois finished her coffee and nodded. "Right after a ladies' room run."
"Of course," he said, nodding in turn. "I'll wait for you up in front."
"Sounds good."
Lois headed off in the direction of the ladies' room while Clark decided to take the opportunity to use the men's room. It was closer to the front of the restaurant, so he had no problem being done and already waiting for Lois. He took her arm and led her to her Jeep, then blindfolded her.
"Hey! What the...?" she protested immediately.
"No peeking," Clark said, cutting her off, then planting a light kiss on her lips.
Lois huffed in what sounded like feigned annoyance. He knew she could take the blindfold off whenever she wanted, but it seemed like she was going to let him have his little game. He was glad. He'd been working on this surprise for a long time now.
He drove on through the city, the sky above dark and heavy with clouds, while the lights of Metropolis mimicked a bright, sunny day. Clark knew the way by heart. He'd been to his destination several times by foot, by cab, and by air. He knew exactly how long it would take to get where he was going.
It was a short trip, and he tried to keep Lois' mind off the turns and stops of the drive. It was easy enough. All he had to do was use Lois' greatest gift against her. He kept her talking the entire time. Finally, they arrived at their destination. He found a place to park on the street, seamlessly pulling in between an old Ford pickup and a brand new Toyota. He helped Lois out of the car, led her to a certain spot on the sidewalk, and took off her blindfold.
"What do you think?" he asked as the black silky material fell away from her eyes.
"Think?" she asked tentatively. "About what?"
Clark swept his hand before him at the townhouse they were standing in front of. "Of our new home, if you want it."
"Our...new home?"
Clark nodded. "Look, I know it's sudden and everything. Well, for you. I've been looking at places for a while now. This place...it's not in the best shape, at first glance, I'll admit to that. But it's a solid construction, and I've had it checked out, both by a professional and on my own. There's not so much as a speck of mold or old mouse dropping to be seen. The work it needs...it's all cosmetic. I can have this place ready for us to move in to in three days, tops, and that's only because I'm budgeting time for, well, you know." He waved his hand slightly in their secret signal that meant Superman.
"Clark...I..."
"Just...take a look inside with me, please? Before you pass any judgment." He looked at someone coming up behind Lois and waved. "Dirk! Good to see you. Lois, this is Dirk Finch, the realtor for the place. He agreed to come out even though it's late to give us a look inside."
Dirk shook hands with Lois. "Come on, I'll give you the tour. Please, pardon the mess. The former owners were not exactly neat-freaks. When they passed, their children wanted nothing to do with the house. That's actually why it's priced as low as it is. They just want to get rid of it. I think they're in Arizona or something."
Lois looked almost dazed as she took Clark's hand and mounted the steps to the landing as Dirk droned on. Once inside, he switched topics to the particulars of the house - when it was built, how many bedrooms and bathrooms it had, when the roof was last replaced. Clark could tell that Lois was barely hearing the man, based on the way her face fell as they entered into the living room. He didn't blame her for the way her face fell. He'd felt the same way, when he'd initially seen it. He'd seen neater, less damaged shoot-out zones. But, as he'd already told Lois, the damage was only surface deep. The scuff marks in the floor boards could be polished, buffed, or covered over with carpeting. The peeling wallpaper could be torn down and replaced or the walls could be painted. The loose faucet in the kitchen could be tightened up. The broken window in the master bedroom could be replaced. The hideous furniture could be thrown away. He'd already budgeted for new furniture for each room, so the place would have a cohesive look that would truly feel like their own home.
They toured the house, barely speaking, then Clark begged a few minutes alone to talk things over with Lois. Dirk was happy to do so, perhaps smelling the possibility of a sale and a commission in the dusty, stale air.
"So?" Clark hedged, as Dirk closed the door to the house leaving them alone in the living room. He leaned against the frame of one of the large windows, then decided to sit on it instead. "What do you think?"
"What do I think?" she repeated. "What do I think?"
Clark shrugged. "Well...yeah. Do you like the house?"
"Clark," Lois said, sounding weary, "I'm not really sure what I think. It's kind of sudden, don't you think?"
"Not really," he said with a shake of his head. "I think it makes sense. With us looking at marriage, hopefully in the near future, and a baby, definitely in the near future, I think it makes sense to find a bigger place. Someplace where we can set down roots for our family. Someplace where we won't have to worry about who's apartment the baby will be staying at each night, because he or she will be in his or her own room, or maybe in a bassinet at the foot of our bed. A place where you and I will always return to at the end of the day, instead of having sleepovers at each other's apartments. I mean, as it stands now, we're practically living together anyway. It makes a lot more sense for us to have only one rent and one set of expenses, like power, heat, water, and groceries."
"Actually, I agree with you," Lois said, looking around the living room again. "It does make more sense."
"Plus," Clark added, taking her hands in her own as she sat down next to him, "I really, really hate being apart from you."
"I do too," she admitted. "There was a time where I never thought I would ever want to live with anyone, but being with you has changed all that. Still, this place?" She gestured vaguely. "I can't imagine how we can afford it, even if Dirk considers it to be low-priced."
"Ah," Clark said with a mischievous smile. He took a small, folded piece of paper out of the breast pocket of his jacket and unfolded it. He laid it on the window still between them and smoothed it out so Lois could read it. "I have it all figured out. Here's our down payment," he said, tapping the paper with one finger, "leaving this amount over here for repair work and furniture. At the current mortgage rates, we'd be paying this amount here, more or less. Less than our combined rents right now."
"Okay, but where do we get a down payment like that?" Lois asked, studying the paper.
"It's all taken care of," he said.
"How?" she wanted to know.
He shrugged. "Apparently, my parents bought bonds for me ever since they found me. They recently cashed them in and gave me a check for the full amount. They thought that, with the baby coming, we could use it for whatever we needed - even for a house or the wedding. Since I have some money that I've been saving myself if I were to ever be married, I thought we could use the money from the bonds on the down payment, the repairs, and furnishing the place."
"Clark..."
"Come here. I want to show you something," he said, interrupting her. He took her hand and led her back up the stairs to one of the bedrooms. "I thought this room would be the perfect place for our son or daughter," he said. He held his hands up like a director framing a shot in a movie. "The crib would go here. The changing table over on that well, next to the dresser. Over here, we'd put your grandmother's lamp from your living room and a glider for those middle of the night feedings. What do you think?"
Lois had to blink back tears. "I think it's perfect," she said in a whisper as she leaned into Clark, allowing him to wrap his arms around her.
"So...do you think we should get it?"
"I think we'd better, before someone else tries to snatch it away," Lois said.
Clark smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Excellent! And I didn't even have to show you the secret closet in the living room to convince you that this place is perfect for us."
"Secret closet?" Lois asked. Then she shook her head and shrugged. "Well, at least we won't have to install one ourselves."
Clark shrugged. "It isn't as bad as you'd think. Took me an hour to put in the one in my apartment."
"I'm guessing you, ah, cheated?"
"A little," he admitted with a blush.
"Clark?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you, for this. I think, once it gets a facelift, this house is going to be perfect for us."
"I think so too." He led her back down the stairs to the living room. "It just feels right to me, somehow. I can almost see us setting up the Christmas tree in that corner there," he said, pointing. "Movie nights at home with our child over here." He pointed where the TV would go in his mind, then swept his hand over the imaginary couch. "Maybe a family portrait above the mantel here."
Lois stopped his visions of the future with a kiss. Instantly, his train of thought derailed. Only Lois and her kiss existed.
"What was that for?" he asked in a husky voice when they parted.
"Just because you're you," she replied with a smile. "Now, let's go give Dirk the good news. Besides, the poor guy's been standing outside for a while, and it looks like it's going to start pouring at any moment."
Clark had nearly forgotten the foreboding look to the sky. He'd been too wrapped up in the house that would soon belong to the two of them. "Good point."
"You realize, of course, this might kill my mother. Moving in with a man without being married to him." She laughed as she spoke the words.
"Lois, I'm starting to think there is nothing that your mother will approve of." He was only half joking.
Lois sighed. "That might just be the case. Although, she really can't argue against how good it will be for our baby to have one stable, consistent home. And, she was pretty happy that you and I have decided to get married, though I know it bothers her that I've chosen to wait until things settle down after this little boy or girl is born." She affectionately rubbed the swell of her stomach.
"You should have Lucy move into your apartment once we're in the house," Clark said, thinking aloud. "You said she hates her current place and the roommate she's sharing with."
Lois smiled brightly. "Yeah, I think she'd love that, actually."
A rumble of thunder sounded. "Better wrap this up," Clark said, heading for the door. Dirk was leaning against the light pole outside on the sidewalk. Clark called to him. "Hey, Dirk? Good news..."
***
In the end, the sellers were in a rush to close on the house. They accepted an offer below what they were asking for, and Lois and Clark were able to secure their mortgage fast enough to close by the beginning of November. True to his word, Clark had the house in pristine condition within three days. He started with the master bedroom, all the while in awe of the fact that he would no longer ever need to spend the night apart from Lois. Next, he did the baby's nursery, painting the walls in cream tones at Lois' request, because in her words "Even if we have a girl, a Pepto-Bismol pink room is not happening." He finished the rest of the upper floor before moving to the main floor.
There, he attacked the kitchen first, replacing faucets, scrubbing tiles, and cleaning away years of caked on grease that no one had ever appeared to notice or cared enough to clean away. He left the living room for last on that floor. The floors didn't come out quite as he'd hoped, so to hide away all of the ugly scars it bore, he laid down some off-white carpeting that nicely contrasted the wallpaper Lois had picked out for the room. It was more time consuming than he remembered, even with his super speed. He'd only laid carpeting once before with his dad, when his parents had decided to replace the well worn carpeting in their own living room.
The basement, however, took him the longest. Aside from patching several unattractive holes in the walls and giving them a paint job, Clark completely transformed the place, turning it from a dark but dry storage space into a finished, livable family room with plenty of room for his son or daughter to play in one day. He added shelving to some of the walls, ready for all of the inevitable board games and toys. He replaced the inadequate lighting with brighter, more efficient lights which covered the rooms much better. He did find, to his dismay, that the hot water heater was on the verge of giving out, so a fourth day was added where the plumber came and replaced the aging tank.
He'd managed to keep Lois away from the house as he'd worked on it, wanting, instead, to surprise her with the finished product. As luck had it, they were both kept extremely busy with an investigation at work, which left Lois exhausted by dinner time. It was easy enough for Clark to say goodnight to her after dinner and then swing by the house to work at super speed for a few hours.
Now, however, the work was complete. It was time to reveal the fruit of his labor. Once more, he brought Lois to the house, had her close her eyes, and guided her into the living room.
"Are you ready to see it?" he asked her in a playful tone.
"I've been dying to see what you've done," Lois said, still with her eyes firmly shut.
"It's not completely finished," Clark warned. "We still have to pick out furniture."
"That's fine. We can look this weekend."
"This weekend is your shower," Clark reminded her.
"That's only for a few hours around brunch on Saturday," Lois argued.
"Still, some of the stores close early on Sunday..." he teased, dragging out the reveal.
Lois was on to his game. "Clark Jerome Kent," she said in a playful warning tone. "Now you're stalling on purpose."
Clark reflexively winced at the use of his full name. "You've been talking to my mother, I see," he replied dryly. "I don't think I've ever mentioned my full name before."
"We had a nice long chat this morning while you were here with the water heater guy."
"Ah."
"So, can I open my eyes now?"
Clark answered by putting his hand over her eyes. "Welcome home, Lois," he said lovingly to her as he lifted his hand away again.
Lois gasped as the room materialized before her uncovered eyes. She stood mute for several long seconds as she took it all in. Her hand went to her chest, then to her mouth. Clark could see the wonderment in her eyes and could practically feel the excitement radiating from her body. He felt as if he were seeing the house completely anew.
If this were a cartoon, he thought wryly to himself, the place would be actually sparkling.
"It's gorgeous!" she finally said in an awestruck, soft voice that fairly trembled with her shock. "I can't believe this. It doesn't even look like the same house." She shook her head. "You must have spent hours on this place, even with your abilities."
Clark shrugged it off. "It wasn't so bad. Most of the problems were cosmetic and didn't require as much effort as it appeared to. Come on, let me show you the rest of the house."
"I can't wait," Lois said enthusiastically.
Each new room brought out new gasps of delight from Lois and made Clark's heart swell with pride at having made her so happy. Lois pointed out many of the details Clark had hoped she would, like the way the fresh coat of green paint in the master bedroom perfectly matched Lois' favorite comforter in her apartment. Of course, since this was Lois, the rapid fire chatter and questions didn't surprise Clark in the least. Instead, he reveled in her random tangents and answered her questions as best he could, even discussing where they should place the furniture they planned to buy.
"So..." Clark asked after they had explored every nook and cranny of their new home. "Do you like it?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "I love it. You did an amazing job." She kissed his cheek for good measure.
"I'm glad," he replied. He sighed happily. "We're home, Lois."
"Home," she agreed.
To Be Continued...
