*pokes head in...*
--
“No way, Kent, you did not just tell me to calm down!”
Clark knew, then, that he was precariously close to spending a night in the dog house. He held up his hands in a placating manner. “Honey, don’t you think you’re acting a little-”
“A little what?”
Clark’s jaw snapped shut as his wife’s eyes narrowed. “Because you’d better not be about to say crazy, Clark!”
“Lo-is,” he began, taking a slight step backwards and edging towards the dining room. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
His eyes skittered to the window. Would she kill him if he just happened to hear a call for help right now?
Probably, yes.
“What exactly did you mean?” And her hands were on him then, her palms flat over his chest, as effective an anchor if ever there was one.
Clark groaned internally – his attempt to slide away had only ended up backing him into a corner – literally and figuratively. “I just meant that it’s only one date, sweetheart.”
“Oh, Clark!” And she was off again, hands thrown in the air as she spun around to pace the length of their living room. “We both know we’re talking about more than one date!”
Clark had to admit that she was right – as always. Their daughter wasn’t exactly the type of person who would introduce a boy to her parents if she wasn’t serious about him. Still-
“She’s seventeen now,” Clark tried to reason.
“Exactly!” Lois said, spinning. “Ella’s just a baby! A baby who has no right dating that – that grown man!”
The willpower it took not to smile at his wife’s impression of a momma-bear was staggering. Ella could more than handle herself, Clark knew, but he understood his wife’s misgivings – their daughter may not be a baby anymore, but she’d always be their baby.
“Didn’t Ella say Chad was eighteen?”
Lois crossed her arms over her chest, her hip cocked and eyebrow raised, looking at him as if he’d just made her point for her.
And the smile did creep out then as Clark shook his head and turned back towards the dining room to tidy away the dishes. Twenty-two years on and that look still set off delightful sparks in his belly.
His movements halted as Lois cleared her throat. “Well?”
“Well what?”
Lois flapped her hand in their subtle signal for his not-so-subtle super activities. “Aren’t you going to check on them?”
“Lois, no! I’m not going to spy on our daughter!”
“It’s not spying,” she reasoned, “it’s parenting.”
Clark folded his own arms across his chest then. “Hovering over her at 1, 000 feet is parenting?”
“Helicopter parenting?” A small smile quirked his wife’s lips. “I am being crazy, aren’t I?”
“A little,” Clark said, stepping over to her and folding his arms around her. A heartbeat later and Lois’s own arms twined around his waist.
“Maybe it’s driving me a little crazy too,” Clark admitted after a silent moment.
“Our baby girl is growing up way too fast,” Lois mumbled against his collar and Clark hummed his agreement.
“We have to trust her to make her own mistakes.”
His wife pulled away, a small grin lighting her features as she made her way to the kitchen.
“What’s got you smiling?” Clark asked, his curiosity piqued at her change in countenance.
“They say most men eventually turn into their fathers, but you, Clark Kent, sounded just like your mother then.”
Clark laughed softly. “There are much worse fates.”
Lois pulled the kettle from the top shelf and waved him away when he tipped his glasses down his nose. “Better if I keep my hands busy,” she admitted as she set about making two mugs of tea.
“Ella’s got a sensible head on her shoulders.”
Lois’s smile widened. “I know, but I still worry. I mean, what kind of a name is Chad, anyway? What does it say about his family if his parents looked at the kid and thought, ‘Chad’?”
Clark’s lips twisted upwards. “So you’re thinking about meeting his family already? Planning the wedding?”
Lois swatted his arm lightly. “Ha ha. You’re not worried then, Flyboy?”
Clark shook his head. “Of course not. If he hurts her, I’ll just fling him into the sun.”
--
*ducks back out...*
)? Or would he actually approve of the boy? 
