New Year’s Season 6
By: Carrie Rene
Summary: How would Lois & Clark have celebrated New Year’s Eve if there had been a sixth season?
Notes: Going along with the timeline of my other New Year’s Eve stories, I had to try. Plus, it's Friday, and I seem to remember Ficlet Friday.
***
No friends tonight. Not much family, either—just the one we built from scratch. I settle into the rocker, Natalie curled against my shoulder, her breath warm and steady. Our first New Year’s Eve as a trio. Just a few months in, and already everything feels different. Quieter. Deeper.
Outside, the world’s bracing for Y2K, counting down with more anxiety than celebration. But in Natalie’s room, it’s just the soft creak of the rocker and her breath against my collarbone. She’s warm, drowsy, safe. For five years, Clark and I have welcomed the New Year together. This time, he’s out there again—doing what he does best. I understand. I do. But as the clock inches toward midnight, I hold our daughter tighter. Because tonight, this is where the world begins again.
She’s asleep now, her breath soft against my skin as the rocker moves beneath us. Midnight’s close, and part of me still wants to see the countdown, maybe even laugh with friends. But this—this quiet corner, this moment—has become my favorite. Jonathan and Martha gave us this rocker, said it was a family heirloom. Built by Jonathan’s father, passed down with love. Now it holds our daughter. And me. And everything that matters tonight.
Fireworks crack outside—too many, maybe. Natalie stirs, her little brow twitching in sleep. I wonder if she’ll have Clark’s super hearing someday. Hopefully not tonight. At least we’ve talked about it now. No more secrets. No more waiting until the kids start flying around the house. We know what to look for. And whatever comes, we’ll face it together.
“Happy New Year,” he says softly, standing in the doorway like he’s been there a while—watching, listening, knowing this moment matters.
He steps into the room, voice low. “It hit midnight in Sydney, then Tokyo, then Moscow. No crashes. No chaos. Just fireworks and a lot of nervous IT guys breathing again.” He looks at Lois, then at Natalie. “Figured it was safe enough to come home.”
“The world survived,” she says softly, eyes never leaving Natalie. “I’m glad you’re here. We haven’t spent a New Year’s Eve apart since the day we met.”
He crosses the room slowly, eyes soft. “I missed you both more than I can say,” he murmurs, crouching beside the rocker. “The world didn’t end, but it didn’t feel right until I was here—with my girls.”
Lois leans her head gently against the rocker’s curve, eyes on Natalie’s sleeping face. Clark’s hand finds hers.
“Here’s to a new millennium,” she whispers. “The world not ending… and our next year as parents.”
He squeezes her hand, and for a moment, the fireworks outside fade into silence. Just the three of them. Just the beginning.
THE END
