Complete version found in the nfic section.
TOC Last Time, on Little Girl Lost:
Judge Stephenson laughed. "Mr. and Mrs. Kent, you are to be commended. When Rachel's case first came before me, the state had a very frightened and traumatized little girl on our hands. You have given her the love and support to turn her into a happy, well-adjusted child." She paused to flip through a sheaf of papers.
"According to these notes, Rachel has flourished under your care--most of these recommend that she be left with you. It has always been the policy of the family court to keep biological families together when possible. It is often also the judge's prerogative to look past this when necessary. In this case, there are no reports of abuse on her biological father's part, and Mr. Taylor is both willing and able to care for Rachel. There is absolutely no reason to keep father and daughter apart. Rachel, you want to stay with the Kents but sometimes what you desire is not what is best for you--you may want ice cream, but a steady diet of it would soon make you sick.
“So, I must find that the best interest of the child is to place Rachel in her biological father's care. He is hereby granted full custody. Mr. and Mrs. Kent, you are to be commended for being excellent foster parents for Rachel, and this court hopes that you will be willing to open your home to another foster child in the future. However, any contact you have with Rachel will be up to her biological father. Next case, please."
At the judge's last words, Rachel flew across the courtroom and threw herself at Lois and Clark, sobbing. "I don't want to go away," she cried, tears running down her face. "I want to stay with you!"
Lois dropped to her knees, took Rachel in her arms, and stood up, holding her tightly. "We want you to stay, too, sweetheart," she said, fighting back tears. Rachel locked her arms around Lois's neck and held on for dear life.
Clark came over and put his arms around both of them. "We love you, sprite," he said, his voice husky with pent-up emotion. "We want you to stay with us forever," he said softly. "But we can't disobey the judge."
Rachel loosened her tight grasp on Lois and reached for Clark grabbing hold of the lapels of his suit. Clark reached for her before she fell and hugged her tightly. "Don't make me go, Daddy. Please don't make me go!" she begged.
"Sprite, I wish there was something I could do," he smoothed her hair away from her face and kissed her on the forehead.
Samantha Parker came over with Mr. Taylor, Rachel's small suitcase in hand. "It's time to go, Rachel," she said softly.
Rachel's grip tightened around Clark's neck. "Nooooo," she cried. "NOOOOOO! Daddy, no!" She hid her face in his neck and sobbed.
Samantha gently detached Rachel's arms from around Clark and Mr. Taylor stepped forward to take her. He held her firmly against him, trying to keep his hold as she reached out for Lois and Clark. "Thank you for taking care of my little girl," he said quietly before he turned to leave. Samantha shot them an apologetic look before turning to follow him.
"They took my baby," Lois said with a soft sob before she turned around to bury her face in Clark's chest.
As Mr. Taylor walked away, Rachel stretched out her arms toward them. "Daddy, don't let them take me," she cried. "Daddy, DADDY!" she screamed as Mr. Taylor's steps took her further from the parents she loved.
"DADDY, MOMMA! NOOOOOOOOO! DAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDYYYYY!"
"I love you, Rachel," Clark whispered as a single tear that he had been unable to repress rolled down his cheek. It was a long time before he could no longer hear his daughter screaming for him to come.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~And Now:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 7
Sunday's Child
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
December 23, 1998 12:00 pm
Office of Family and Children Services, Metropolis
Samantha sat at her desk, staring off into space. Usually, she loved her job, but that night, she hated it. Rachel had still been screaming for Lois and Clark when Mr. Taylor buckled her in the car that morning. Sam wasn't sure how she could deal with it--they had just ripped Rachel out of the only place that she could truly call home. She wanted a drink. Forget just one--a whole bottle would be better.
Sam sighed and rubbed her temples tiredly. It had been years since she had done that--she'd given up drinking after she'd almost died of alcohol poisoning back in college. It was days like this that made her question why she'd ever wanted to be a social worker in the first place, and she'd been one for the better part of thirty years.
"Samantha?" Sam turned around and saw her supervisor, Adam, standing behind her. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"I guess, so, Adam," she said quietly. "It's just the Pierce girl--Judge Stephenson gave her biological father full custody against my recommendation that she remain with the Kents."
“You know it happens, Samantha,” he reminded her gently. “We're supposed to reunite families.”
“I know,” she sighed, “but I'm just not sure it's the right thing to do in Rachel's case. Adam, you know as well as I do that she still doesn't like strangers. Hell, she only ever seems to really open up around the Kents.” Samantha frowned slightly. “Rachel has trust issues, and she trusts the Kents. I very much doubt that she'll trust Mr. Taylor the way she trusts Mr. Kent; especially after how he snatched her from the Kents without even giving them a chance to say goodbye.”
“Kids are adaptable,” Adam pointed out. “She'll be okay.”
“I'm not so sure,” she said softly. “Rachel has had to adapt to far too much, surely there is a limit! She loves the Kents and, as I said in my report, removing her from their home could cause irreparable damage.”
“Trust the system, Samantha,” he said quietly. “Isn't that what you taught me? You did the best you could for that little girl; at least she has a future now.”
“I know,” Samantha said with a heavy sigh. “I just hope that it was enough.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
December 23, 1998, 12:30 pm
348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis
Lois sat in the window seat and stared out, unseeing, into the street outside. Rachel was gone just as surely as if she'd been snatched from a street corner by a stranger. It was almost as bad as if she'd been kidnapped--she could be anywhere by now, and Mr. Taylor hadn't even responded to their attorney’s request for arrangements allowing the Kents to see or talk to Rachel. Lois was worried; living with a strange man would be terrifying for her baby. Desperately, she wished that Perry hadn't given them time off to spend with Rachel at Christmas--if she'd been at work, at least she'd have *something* to keep herself from going mad.
Christmas. That was something else that they hadn't talked about yet. She'd never enjoyed the holiday, but she'd actually been looking forward to this one. Brightly-wrapped packages were hidden in the attic, ready for Santa Claus to deliver them to a certain little girl on Christmas Eve. Neither hers nor Clark's parents knew yet that Mr. Taylor had gained custody of Rachel; both sets of parents were out doing some last-minute Christmas shopping for their granddaughter because their requests to be in the courtroom had been denied. It just wasn't fair! Why did Rachel's biological father have to come back now to steal her? Tears began to trickle down Lois's cheeks--she wanted her baby back.
Lois wiped away her most recent bout of tears, slipped off of the window seat, and trudged slowly to the stairs. Rachel's bedroom beckoned like a siren call, but Lois remained conflicted. Part of her wanted to go to her daughter's room, but at the same time, she knew that visiting it would be painful. Lois started up the stairs, her feet dragging more with every step. She walked into Rachel's room and looked around, trying not to cry.
On one wall was a faded, crayoned-on drawing that they hadn't quite managed to remove. A sad smile crossed Lois's face as she remembered Rachel's fear of punishment when her artwork had been discovered. She remembered the surprise on the child's face when she received a gentle rebuke and an admonishment to use paper the next time. Rachel had tried to help them clean it off, but faint traces of the drawing still remained.
She crossed the room and sat on Rachel's bed. Remnants of the bright little girl who had lived there were everywhere--tiny clothes still hung in the closet and lay in drawers. Abandoned playthings lay scattered across the floor while brightly-colored hair ribbons were heaped on a corner of the dresser.
Lois ran her hand across the bedspread and frowned as she found a lump under the blankets. She turned them back carefully to discover Aimee lying underneath. "What are you doing here?" she said softly, running a finger along the doll's embroidered face. "Rachel must have forgotten you." Lois picked up the doll, hugged it, and wished it were her daughter. "Oh, Rachel…" she whispered.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Clark flew slowly through the skies of Metropolis, heading home after rescuing a family from a house fire. His heart ached as he thought about the little girl he had placed in her mother's arms such a short time ago--she'd reminded him of Rachel. Every tow-headed child he saw brought a painful memory of the one that had just been taken from them.
It even hurt to see the Salvation Army Santa Clauses standing on corners ringing their bells; they were reminders that what was supposed to be their first Christmas with their little girl would now be spent without her. For the first time in his life, Clark hated Christmas. What good was a holiday that celebrated hope and joy when the child who had brought them so much of it had been taken from them?
He still had Lois. With her, he knew that he could withstand anything; even losing the little girl they both loved. Clark sped up; he needed to be at home. He entered the house, spun into his street clothes, x-rayed the house quickly and joined Lois in Rachel's now uninhabited room. Silently, he sat down on the bed beside her and pulled her into his arms. They clung to one another desperately, as if by embracing each other, they could stop their world from crumbling around them.
"How could they *do* this to us?" Lois whispered as silent tears began to run down her face. "They *stole* our baby girl."
"No, sweetheart, it's how could *he* do this to us," Clark said gruffly, a slow anger beginning to burn in his gut. "He *abandoned* her before she was born, and now he thinks he can just waltz back into her life and *take* her from the people she loves--and who love her." He pulled back slightly and looked at her. "At least we helped her; if she hadn't been with us, she'd still be hurting from what happened to her," he pointed out gently. "We'll always be part of her life because of that."
Lois choked back a sob. "It's not enough," she said. "I want my little girl, and it's still my fault that she's gone. I saw her; I'm the one who found her on our doorstep," she reminded him. "I love her," she whispered, "but if we hadn't tried to adopt her, we'd still have her."
"Then it's my fault, too, because I was the one who suggested that we try to adopt her," he said softly, fighting back tears. "It's my fault that we can't have babies to start with--all my fault."
Lois sighed and buried her face in his shoulder. "Sweetheart, we talked about this, remember? No guilt--you can't help what Dr. Klein told us."
Numbly, Clark nodded against her silky hair. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became at Mr. Taylor. Every instinct he had demanded that he fly over, snatch his little girl, and take her home; but Superman couldn't kidnap a child, and neither could Clark Kent. "I just feel so damned… helpless."
"Join the club," Lois replied humorlessly. "They stole Rachel from us and left us without her. I never realized that it would hurt so much. " She buried her face in his shoulder and held on to him tightly. "I just--want to make the pain go away."
"So do I," he said hoarsely.
Lois pulled back and looked at him, her face red and blotchy from the tears she had shed while more of them lurked, unshed, in her expressive brown eyes. "Make love to me, Clark," she said softly, desperate to lose the pain of Rachel's theft, even for a few short hours. It was her fault--if she hadn't pushed to adopt so soon, they'd at least have Rachel for Christmas. She needed the solace that only he could offer; reassurance that he still loved her and didn't blame her for the loss of their daughter.
Clark brought his hand up to caress her face. He needed her. How he needed her! As Superman, over the years, he had consoled parents whose children he had been unable to save, but until now he had not known the depth of their pain. He understood the raw pain and aching sense of loss that cut like a knife; the raging anger at the kismet that had stolen their precious daughter from them.
He knew the urge to curse God and fate for sending *that* man to take their baby away. And he needed it to go away. He needed to know that Lois loved him; that she didn't resent him for their inability to have little ones and for his powerlessness in stopping the court from taking Rachel. He was *Superman*, dammit. He *should* be able to stop their family from being ripped apart.
Clark leaned in and kissed Lois gently, then demandingly, craving the knowledge that she still cared.
Lois opened her mouth and sent her tongue out to touch his as he began to explore her slick flesh. "Clark, bedroom," she gasped in between kisses. There wasn't much rational thought left in her head, but she knew that they couldn't make love in their daughter's deserted bedroom.
Without relinquishing his claim on her mouth, Clark stood and picked her up before heading toward their room. He began to layer kisses on her face, her cheeks, her forehead, and then finally back to her lips, assaulting her senses with the energy he had used to fuel his anger. He needed this. He needed her. He set her down slowly by their bed, his hand tracing the neckline of her suit. He slipped her jacket off her shoulders and, without bothering to look, tossed it into the semi-darkness beyond the bed. He ran his hands up and down her arms, feeling the silkiness of her skin.
Clark tugged the hem of her sleeveless shirt from her slacks and slid his hands underneath it to explore her soft skin. He sighed as he felt her loosen his tie, pull it off, and fling it into the nether regions of the room. Leaning down, he captured her lips with his, reveling in the familiar sensation.
Lois began to unbutton his shirt, and growled in frustration when her hands came in contact with spandex instead of skin. She yanked at his shirt, trying to get it out of the way so that she could get to the suit's back zipper. She loved the way her husband looked in the suit, but right now she wanted him *out* of it. Lois pulled the shirt off his shoulders, momentarily trapping his hands in it; she traced the collar of the suit before sliding her hands underneath the cape to find the zipper. Grasping the tab, she pulled it down, softly following the line of skin as it was bared beneath her fingers.
Clark freed his hands and began to push her shirt up, tracing the line between the bottom of her bra and her skin. He reached around and opened the button that held her blouse closed, then determinedly began to remove it. She stopped what she was doing to allow him better access, then she unhooked her bra and let the straps slip down her shoulders. Lois pulled the top of Clark's suit down, reaching for the straps that secured the cape. She yanked them open and the cape slipped from Clark's shoulders, still hanging on by the waistband of his pants. It was rare that he tucked the cape in--usually he put it with the boots, but at that moment, the trivia of where the cape was hidden was the furthest thing from her mind.
Clark tugged his arms free of the bright blue spandex and gathered Lois close to him, exulting in the feel of bare flesh on bare flesh. No matter how many times they made love, it never ceased to be a revelation and a miracle to him. Every time, he felt a sense of connection and belonging that he had never found before Lois. It was as if not just their bodies, but their souls joined together. He tilted his head and kissed her. Sensation was what mattered now--their love and passion temporarily driving away their pain.
Lois brought her arms up around him, stroking his back softly. She traced the waistband of his slacks, carefully trailing her index finger in between the cape and his skin. She ran her hands around to his front, busying herself with his belt and fly. She unzipped his pants slowly, then reached around to free the rest of his cape. It fell to the floor, forming a large, crimson pool on their carpet; then Lois pushed his slacks off his slim hips to join the cape.
Clark kicked off his shoes and leaned in to kiss her again, their lips melded seamlessly together, tongues entangled, mimicking the lovemaking that would follow. He broke the kiss slowly, sucking her lower lip into his mouth and nibbling on it gently. "Lois," he breathed softly as she began to remove his electric-blue tights and red briefs. He reached around her to find the button of her skirt. Slowly, he unbuttoned it and eased down the zipper, sending her skirt to mingle with the other clothes strewn around the room.
Clark hurriedly finished divesting himself of his tights before he lifted Lois into his arms, carried her over to the bed, and laid her on it. She tugged him gently down, kissing him, and probing his mouth with her tongue. He leaned in to kiss her, peppering kisses all over her face, slowly making his way to her mouth. He kissed the corners before capturing her lips with a kiss so full of passion and longing that it drove any remaining rational thought from their minds.
Lois began to caress him teasingly, mapping out each sensitive spot on his torso with her fingertips. Slowly, she made her way down his body, moving her hands over his thighs and back up. "Loisss," he moaned softly. She laughed seductively before moving her hands back down his body. Her light kisses followed her fingers' trail; she smiled each time she kissed what she knew was a particularly sensitive spot. Clark began to caress her in return, the pain of Rachel's absence temporarily receded; replaced by an aching need, longing, desire and passion. There were only two people who mattered in her world at that moment--herself and Clark.
Their lovemaking was frantic as they strove to drive away the pain of Rachel's loss from their hearts, minds, and souls. They clung to each other, desperately trying to forget, to lose themselves in a maelstrom of emotion and sensation. Later, they lay together, spent, the real world coming back to them at long last; a world full of pain, sorrow, and loss.
Lois buried her face in his chest and wept for the daughter that she might never see again, for the child who had been lost to them. Clark held her and ran his hand up and down her bare back soothingly, attempting to offer his wife what comfort he could while his own heart was broken and incomplete. He whispered comforting nonsense in her ear, knowing that nothing could ease their anguish, aside from Rachel's return. He levitated them once more, pulled down the bedclothes, and floated them underneath before wrapping the blankets around them. As long as they had each other, they could go on--two people could still be a family.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
December 23, 1998 3:00 pm
258 Deerwater Drive, North Metropolis
Rachel huddled in a corner, holding CJ, and glared at her captor. "Daddy!" she cried softly.
"What is it, sweetheart?" Mr. Taylor asked gently as he knelt down and reached for her hand.
Rachel swatted his hand away. "You're *not* my Daddy," she said. "You took me away from my Daddy," she said, her breath catching in a sob. "I wanna go home! I want my Momma and Daddy."
He sighed softly. "Rachel, honey--you're my little girl and I want you to be happy here; this is your home, now." He looked at her pleadingly. "Sweetheart, I want to introduce you to a very nice lady who's going to be your new Mommy."
"I don't want no new Mommy," she said holding her teddy bear as a shield. "I got a Mommy--and she's at home," Rachel insisted.
Mr. Taylor shook his head and sighed again. "Rachel, the Kents are nice people, but they're not your parents. Your name, now that I've found you, is Rachel Elizabeth Taylor, and you’re my little girl."
"They are *so*! My name is Rachel Elizabeth *Kent*," she scrambled to her feet and glared at him, angry tears streaming down her face. "Kent, Kent, Kent!"
"Rachel," he began patiently, "Your last name is Taylor. I *am* your daddy, and I'm introducing you to my fiancee tonight." He stood and looked at her, wishing for the kind of relationship that she seemingly had with Mr. Kent.
"Kentkentkentkentkentkentkentkentkentkentkent!" Rachel screamed, stomping her feet angrily.
"I'm sorry, Rachel," he said tiredly, turning to leave the room. Chris Taylor walked into the living room, slumped down on the couch, reached for the phone, and dialed a familiar number. "Jessica?" he said quietly when someone picked up.
"What is it, Chris?" a feminine voice answered.
"Are you still coming over tonight? I'd like you to meet my daughter."
"Of course," she answered with a soft laugh. "Is that her in the background?"
"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "She's not too happy about being here; she keeps screaming for her foster parents and she won't let me near her."
"Give her time, Chris," Jessica said. "Just give her some time. I'll be there at six."
"Thanks, Jessica. I love you."
"I love you, too."
Chris Taylor hung up the phone, rested his head in his hands, and wondered what he'd gotten himself into. When he'd heard what had happened to Rachel, he'd *had* to go get her. It was the right thing to do--rescue his until-now ignored little girl from a bad situation. He hadn't even known that Michaela, Rachel's mother, had died until he’d read Rachel’s whole sorry tale in the Daily Planet. Up until then, he had assumed that everything was okay.
He wished he hadn't left Michaela; that Rachel had been with him the whole time. Leaving her and their daughter was the worst mistake he'd ever made. By taking care of Rachel now, he would make amends for the past. The Kents had undone a lot of the damage that Gary Russell had caused, but now it was up to him to gain his little girl's trust. Everything would work out perfectly, he knew it.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Rachel buried her face in CJ's soft fur and sobbed. Her throat ached and her face and nose were sore from hours of crying and screaming for her parents. That judge lady was mean for making her go with the strange man that called himself "Daddy". She didn't understand why he wanted to take her from home and from her Momma and Daddy. She didn't want to stay in this strange house; she wanted to go home.
Rachel wiped her tears on the soft toy and frowned. Daddy had been nice about her making a mess but maybe the Fakedaddy would send her go home if she wrecked his stupid house. A sob caught in her throat as she thought of what he might do to her for wrecking his house, but she didn't care--going home to her real parents was the only thing that mattered.
Resolutely, she tucked CJ under one arm and marched into the biggest bedroom. She set him carefully on the bed before she started opening drawers and emptying them on the floor into a large pile; then she pulled the drawers out of the dresser, dumped them on top of the heap of clothing, and gave them a hard kick for good measure. That finished, she picked up the stuff on top of the dresser and threw it on the rapidly growing mound.
Rachel stood back and surveyed her work. It was a good start, but she hadn't gone far enough. She ran over to the bedside table and gave it the same treatment, then threw the lamp on the floor, smiling at the satisfying crash it made. She picked up CJ and laid him on the bedside table before pulling the bedclothes off the bed and dragging them into the closet.
Rachel tossed everything she could reach from the closet out into the room, then jumped up to grab the bar in the closet and swung on it, bouncing up and down until it broke in half. The clothes slid to the floor, so she threw them and the hangers out into the room before returning to push the mattress from the bed with a resounding thump. She climbed on top of it and jumped up and down with unholy glee for a few minutes before walking over to the windows to yank on the curtains until they came off the wall. The adjoining bathroom was next. Rachel cleared out everything she could reach, hurling it into the bedroom before grabbing the end of the toilet paper roll and unrolling it as far as it would stretch.
Rachel looked around and smiled. She hadn't ever made a mess this big at Mommy and Daddy's house--the Fakedaddy would be mad, and then he would send her home. She frowned again, her small face furrowed in thought. Perhaps this wasn't a big enough mess. Perhaps she should mess up other rooms and break more stuff so that he'd let her go home. She reached for CJ as tears began to roll down her cheeks. "Momma, Daddy--come and get me," she whispered miserably, cuddling the toy close.
She left the decimated room and wandered back into the bedroom that the Fakedaddy said was hers. Rachel looked around the bland room and burst into a fresh torrent of tears. She ran over to a corner and hid there, sobbing yet again into CJ's fuzzy body. "Daddy, Momma," she whimpered before falling into an exhausted sleep to dream of the parents she missed so desperately.
Downstairs, Chris sat, comfortably ensconced in his easy chair, oblivious to the drama occurring upstairs. He readjusted his headphones and tapped a beat out on his chair. His daughter was home where she belonged, and he now had a chance to fix his past mistakes.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
December 23, 1998, 3:30 pm
348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis
Lois and Clark sat on the couch, clinging together, as Jonathan and Martha, laden with Christmas presents used their key to enter the townhouse. Martha dropped her bags next to the door and hurried over as she caught sight of the expressions on her children's faces. “Lois, Clark--what's wrong?” she asked softly. “Where's Rachel?”
“Gone,” Lois replied, sorrow heavy in her voice.
“The judge gave her biological father custody,” Clark said hollowly. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this," he rested his cheek on Lois's hair, drawing strength from her presence. "I want my little girl back," he said softly, his voice filled with pain.
Martha put her arms around the couple. "Oh, honey," she said softly, kissing the top of Clark's hair. "I wish there was something we could do."
"But there isn't, Mom!" Clark shrugged out of Martha's embrace, let go of Lois, and started pacing. "I'm *Superman*, dammit, and I couldn't stop it. I *should* have been able to do *something*." He smacked his fist into his hand angrily. "What good are my powers if I can't keep our family together?" He clenched his fists and paced a little faster.
Lois rose to join him. "Clark," she began quietly, "stop." She grabbed him, pulled him into her arms, and tucked her head under his chin. "You *can't* save everyone, sweetheart; you know that! You can't stop every bad thing from happening, either."
"My head knows--but it still hurts like hell. I should be able to protect Rachel; I should be able to protect you." Clark hugged her tightly, finding a measure of solace in her arms.
Jonathan walked over and laid his hand on Clark's shoulder. "We knew this was a possibility before you left for the Courthouse, son. We loved Rachel, too, but we always knew that this could happen."
"I know, Dad," he said with a sigh. "But I *still* should have been able to stop it! I should have been able to stop them from taking our baby."
"Clark," Lois said quietly, drawing his attention towards her. She reached up and caressed his cheek. "Wherever she is, Rachel is safe; we have to at least find comfort in that. We did all we could--you did all you could. Sweetheart, no matter what name you're wearing, Superman *or* Clark Kent, whatever you can do *is* enough."
Clark kissed her softly, then leaned his forehead against hers. "I hope so," he said.
"I know so," Lois affirmed.
Clark slowly relaxed against her, letting his anger and guilt drain away. "We could appeal," he said quietly. "Sue for custody ourselves, maybe, and hope we get a different judge."
Lois buried her face in his chest and drew in a deep breath. "Clark," she said quietly, "remember what Samantha said--we don't have much of a chance of getting Rachel back unless her biological father signs away his parental rights."
"I know," he said with a sigh, his arms tightening around her.
Martha came over and placed her hand on her son's shoulder. "Honey, aren't Lois's parents coming over for dinner tonight?"
Clark looked at her, defeat in his eyes. "Yeah, they are, Mom," he admitted softly.
"I'll go start dinner," she said gently. "You two just rest for a bit and I'll take care of it."
"Thanks, Mom," Clark said, sighing again. Arm in arm, the younger couple walked back over to the couch and sat down, settling into each other's embrace.
"Martha, I'll help you," Jonathan said quickly. He got up and followed her into the kitchen.
Lois freed one hand and stroked Clark's shoulder. "It'll be okay," she said softly, holding back her tears to be strong for him. "I promise,"
Clark began to rub his hand up and down her back soothingly, and it wasn't long before, exhausted by the day's emotions, they drifted off to sleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
December 23, 1998, 5:00 pm
258 Deerwater Drive, North Metropolis
Chris led Jessica up the stairs toward the room he had designated as Rachel's. It had gotten quiet a few hours ago, but he had just assumed that Rachel was coloring in one of the coloring books he'd picked up the day before. Frankly, he was thankful that she wasn't screaming and crying for the Kents anymore--the noise grated on his nerves. "I put her in here," he said quietly, not wanting to set off another screaming fit. He peeked inside and frowned when he didn't see her.
Chris walked cautiously into the room and looked around. Finally, he spotted her in the corner, her long blonde lashes lying against her flushed, tearstained cheeks. He walked over to the corner and picked her up, frowning slightly as she flinched away from him, even in sleep. “This is Rachel,” he said softly, trying not to wake her.
Jessica reached out to stroke the girl's hair. “She's beautiful, Chris. Want me to help you put her to bed? From what you've told me, she's had a long day, and the extra sleep won't hurt her.”
“Thank you,” he said, relieved. “I'm not exactly sure how to do this,” he admitted as he carried Rachel over to the bed.
“You'll learn--we'll learn,” she said reassuringly.
Chris laid Rachel gently on the bed, and kissed her on the cheek, unsure of what to do next. “Did her foster parents send any night clothes?” Jessica asked as she leaned over and unbuckled the child's mary janes.
“I'll... go look,” he said. Chris walked over to the still-packed suitcase, rummaged around inside it, and pulled out a nightgown. Jessica unbuttoned the back of Rachel's dress and carefully undressed her before taking the proffered nightgown and dressing the little girl. Chris laid Rachel down and tucked the blankets around her, making sure to tuck the teddy bear that she had refused to be separated from next to her.
Rachel stirred and groped for the bear. Her seeking hand found it and she buried her face in the bear's soft fur. Chris leaned over and kissed his daughter on the cheek. "I wish she weren't scared of me," he said quietly.
Jessica laughed, "Chris, she'll probably be scared of me, once she wakes up and finds me here--you're not alone in this."
"I know," he said with a half smile. “But this is still kind of scary; I mean, I've never been a father before, and my daughter's been through a lot, what if I screw up?”
Jessica shushed him. “Let's talk about this outside,” she whispered. “I don't want to wake Rachel up.” Chris took her hand, and they exited the room, leaving the door cracked open behind them. Hand in hand, they walked into Chris's bedroom, where they could talk privately.
Chris gasped in shock as he viewed the wreckage of what *had been* his bedroom. Devastation greeted him; the room was in need of serious clean-up; it looked as if they'd have to stay in the spare room that night. "Rachel must have done this," he said, still shocked.
Jessica looked around the room and smiled tightly. “Your cleaning service *is* coming tomorrow, isn't it?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said with a sigh.
Jessica fiddled with her engagement ring. “So we let them take care of this, and talk to Rachel tomorrow--about respecting other people's property.”
Chris grimaced. He should have expected something like this--Rachel obviously wasn't pleased with the change and was making her unhappiness known. “I guess she's hoping that if she misbehaves enough, we'll send her back to the Kents.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?” Jessica asked. “Chris, I love you, you know that--but I'm not sure if I can handle being Rachel's mother. I'll try for your sake, but I'm just not sure that I'm ready for this.”
Chris pulled Jessica into his arms and held her tightly. He didn't want to lose her, but at the same time, he had a responsibility to his little girl. He had failed to protect her before, and he couldn't fail this time. "Truthfully, I'm not sure I'm ready for this either," he began slowly, "but Rachel *is* my daughter, and it's my job to make sure she's taken care of."
Jessica kissed him on the cheek. "I know--I'm just, well, scared," she sighed. "I guess we can at least be scared together."
"Yeah," he said with a shaky smile. "I ordered pizza for dinner 'cause I thought that Rachel'd eat it. It's in the oven staying warm."
"I'm not hungry for… pizza," she said in a sultry voice. She pulled his head down to kiss him. "I missed you," she murmured against his lips. She broke off the kiss, grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the spare room. "We can eat… later." Jessica said.
"I missed you, too," he said as he followed her willingly. It had been a long month, and he'd been away from her for most of it. He knew it would be a long time before they slept.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
December 24, 1998 1:00 am
258 Deerwater Drive, North Metropolis
Rachel opened her eyes to find herself in a strange place. Frightened at the unfamiliar surroundings, she looked around furtively. She frowned when she remembered where she was. The Fakedaddy hadn't even said anything about the bedroom she had destroyed. It was time for more drastic measures. She shoved back the blankets, climbed out of bed, and headed for the hall bathroom.
Rachel set CJ on the counter and began to look around. Her eyes lit on a diamond ring and a set of matching earrings sitting on the back of the toilet tank. She picked them up to examine them. They were pretty. A small smile crossed her face as she dropped the jewelry into the potty. She briefly thought about flushing it, but decided that the Fakedaddy might wake up if she did.
Rachel scanned the counter by the sink and spied a round, pink plastic container. She picked it up, shook it, and opened it when it rattled. It was full of little pills, each encased in a separate compartment attached to the case. Curious, she turned it over to find slots in the back. Rachel pushed on one of the compartments and smiled as a pill came out. She dropped it in the potty and pressed on another compartment, emptying the container into the toilet. Rachel dropped the plastic case on the floor, and watched in fascination as the pills dissolved, then reached for the toothbrush that was in a cup by the sink. Rachel used it to stir up her concoction, then grabbed the other one to make patterns in the slightly cloudy water in the potty.
Rachel put the toothbrushes back where she had found them, opened the cupboards, and began to pull out items. "Take that, Fakedaddy!" she whispered fiercely as she pulled out a bottle of red cough medicine and emptied it in the toilet. She grabbed a pink razor and dropped it in as well before reaching for the can of shaving creme. She made patterns with it in the toilet bowl before she pressed the handle, flushing the mess down. Rachel contemplated the toilet for a minute and began to smile; she could dispose of lots of stuff that way! She grabbed the end of the toilet paper, stuck it in the toilet, flushed again, and watched in fascination as the rest of the roll flushed away. She opened the green and white box that she'd pulled out earlier and contemplated the plastic-wrapped items inside it.
Rachel picked one up and examined it closely. There seemed to be a way to pull the plastic coating off of it. She yanked the loose plastic and unwrapped the thing; she'd never seen anything quite like it. She dropped the plastic in the potty and fingered the white cotton pellet. The strange item had a long green string on one end of its rounded, cylindrical shape. Rachel grasped the string and dangled it for a moment before dropping it, too, into the toilet. She watched in fascination as it began to expand, and then grabbed the box. One by one, she opened the packaging and dumped the white things into the potty.
Rachel reached for the toothpaste and emptied the tube into the toilet, then reached for the soap. She reached for more ammunition and played with the new items a little before chucking them in. She tossed the soap into the potty and flushed it. The water swirled around in the toilet bowl, sending the white things into a spiral. With a glug, they went down the drain. Then something began to happen. Rachel jumped back as the bowl began to fill with water and overflow. She grabbed CJ off the counter and watched as a large puddle began to spread outwards from the base of the potty, then left the room as the water continued to flow. *That* would show the Fakedaddy--and the Fakenewmommy, too.
She hated both of them. That stupid lady judge had taken her from her Momma and Daddy. It was *her* fault that she was in this strange place! If it weren't for the judge-lady and Fakedaddy, she'd be at home right now. It was probably the Fakemommy's fault as well! Rachel walked back to her room and yawned, beginning to feel sleepy after her exploits. Rachel knelt by her bed. "Please, God--make the Fakedaddy send me home soon." She crawled up into the bed, pulled the covers up and cuddled CJ under her chin. She hadn't found Aimee in her suitcase, but her doll would be safe at home with Momma and Daddy. She wished she were at home--just like Aimee. If she were home, she'd be sleeping in between Momma and Daddy if she woke up in the middle of the night. Rachel sighed and rubbed her face on CJ's fur. She closed her eyes, thought of the Kents, and soon drifted off to sleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
December 24, 1998, 1:45 am
348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis
Lois laid her head on Clark's shoulder and brushed her sweaty hair away from her face. She cuddled up close to him and closed her eyes as her heartbeat began to calm from their last bout of lovemaking. She sighed as Clark began to rub her back comfortingly. The pain of losing their daughter was still there, but it had been partially replaced with a fierce determination to bring Rachel home.
Lois had called Constance Hunter, who was Rachel's court appointed guardian ad litem, and their own lawyer soon after they'd talked to Clark's parents, and they had a specially-arranged appointment for the next day. Unfortunately, it would be at least two weeks until their appeal could be heard in the higher court, so until then, they'd have to sit tight.
Lois kissed Clark's chest and sighed. "At least my parents reacted well," she said.
Clark stroked her hair. "I know," he said. "I was expecting some 'I told you so's from your father." He stopped talking as a large lump rose in his throat again. He closed his eyes, struggling for control. "I'd even put up with your parents at full hue and cry just to have Rachel back," he choked out.
Lois reached up and brushed back a lock of Clark's hair. "It's okay, sweetheart," she said, reassuringly. "We're *going* to get our little girl back."
“I hope so,” he said bleakly. "It's just--"
"I know," she kissed him again, softly. Clark slid his hand into her hair and began to caress her back gently. They had spent the evening comforting each other, trying to convince themselves that their daughter would be home and that everything would be all right.
Lois snuggled into his embrace, seeking the comfort and security that both of them always found in one another's arms. The ground had been snatched out from beneath their feet and the only certainty left in their world was found together.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
December 24, 1998 10:00 am
258 Deerwater Drive, North Metropolis
Chris woke to the crash and clatter of pans coming from the kitchen. He rolled over and cuddled up to the warm figure that lay beside him. His eyes started to slide shut--it was rare that Jessica could stay to sleep in when they spent the night together because their days off rarely coincided. Chris kissed her as she rolled closer to him, muttering something in her sleep. His eyes started to drift shut as he savored the feeling of her in his arms.
Abruptly, he sat up and his eyes flew open. If Jessica was in bed with him, there was only one other person who could be making noise downstairs--Rachel. Hell. He'd forgotten to put child safety locks on the kitchen cabinets and there were poisonous chemicals in the ground-level cabinets. Chris hurriedly slid out of bed and grabbed for the boxers and the robe he'd left in a crumpled heap next to the bed. He yanked both articles of clothing on, rushed downstairs, and into the kitchen.
He was greeted by the sight of Rachel's blonde head popping out of the bottom cabinet as she threw another pan out on to the pile with a loud clatter. "Rachel Taylor!" he began, "what do you think you're doing?"
Rachel glared up at him, her mouth turning down into a scowl. "I'm *not* Rachel Taylor; I'm Rachel *Kent*, and I'm wrecking this stupid kitchen," she said shoving more pots out of the cabinet. She stood up hand headed over to the stove to turn it on, accidentally shoving over a pile of oven mitts on to the burner.
Chris stepped over the pile of cookware and grabbed for Rachel. At first she flinched back from him, then kicked him in the leg as hard as she could. "No! Get away from me! I won't let you or anyone else hit me! That's what bad people do! You're a bad man and I hate you!"
Chris picked her up anyway and slung her over his hip. "Why, sweetie?" he asked softly.
"Lemme go," Rachel cried, panicking at what her experience taught her was likely coming next, and struggling against his hold on her. "Put me *down*!" she yelled, "I'm *not* your sweetie!"
Chris sighed before complying. "Rachel, you *are* going to tell me why you're doing this--first my bedroom, and now the kitchen. *Why* are you destroying your new home?"
Rachel scowled at him angrily. "This *isn't* home. I hate this house and I *hate* you, I *hate* you, I HATE YOU!" she kicked him in the shin and escaped to the other side of the room.
Chris winced and leaned down to rub his leg. "Rachel--I'm your Daddy, and this *is* your home." He walked over, picked up her small, struggling body, and headed towards the stairs. "Rachel *Taylor*, *you* are going to spend some time in your room until I can think up an appropriate punishment for you. Young lady, this destruction *will* stop."
"I'm not Rachel Taylor! I'll never be Rachel Taylor! I'm Rachel Kent and I want my real parents! You're *not* my daddy," Rachel cried. "You're the *Fakedaddy*, and I *hate* you!" She pounded her tiny fists against his back as he carried her upstairs and dumped her in her room.
"This is the worst Christmas Eve ever," he muttered glumly as he watched her tantrum.
"It's the worst for me, too. Even Papa Gary didn't take me away from my
real parents!" Rachel yelled at him. "I want my DADDY!" she cried.
Chris shut the door behind himself and sighed as he heard her screaming for Clark Kent and pounding her fists against the door. He hoped that she'd settle down soon--he wasn't sure how many more tantrums and how much more destruction he could take. He slumped back against the wall and grimaced. He was only trying to do right by his little girl, but so far all he'd managed to do was to make her miserable. He knew enough from prior conversations with Rachel's therapist that destruction was not only her way of testing him, but her way of saying that she wanted to live with the Kents.
He started as he heard a shriek coming from the hallway bathroom. Chris hurried over to find out what was the matter and found Jessica standing in a large puddle of water holding an empty box of tampons and an empty container that had once held birth control pills. "Jess, what's the matter?" he asked.
"Rachel must've done it," Jessica said, her voice tightly controlled. "Chris, I left my engagement ring and the matching earrings in here last night; now they're gone! And I found these with a clogged toilet--Rachel must've flushed my jewelry, my birth control pills and who knows what else before she clogged the toilet with a whole box if tampons!" Jessica threw the empty containers into the trash. “At least, I hope she flushed the pills. I guess I wasn’t thinking last night, and I forgot about putting them in an out of reach place. Is she okay, physically, I mean?”
She looked relieved at Chris’ mumbled response of, “I think so,” and continued, "and will your Homeowners' Insurance cover the damage and losses? I want my engagement ring and my earrings back, and we'll never find them now--even crawling through the Metropolis Sewer Reclamation plant wouldn't do any good."
"I'll call the plumber." Angry as Chris was, he couldn't help grinning when he picked up one of the little "balloons" that were floating about in the water. Clearly his daughter had gotten inventive with his leftover condoms. He wasn't even sure where she had found them; he'd forgotten that he still had some, but obviously they made pretty good flotation devices.
"If you can get one," Jessica said in exasperation. "It's Christmas Eve, for heaven's sake! Chris, her tantrums are only going to get worse; can we *really* deal with a special needs child?" Tears welled up in Jessica's eyes. "It's not surprising that she'd have behavior problems, and I know it’s not her fault, but I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. How much longer is it going to take for Rachel to accept us?"
Chris sighed. "Kids are supposed to be adaptable; they *can* adjust to situations like this. But I guess it's a lot different than bringing home a puppy or a kitten-- a couple days of crying and messes and then things are fine. I think this is going to take a very long time, and all of us are going to be miserable in the process."
Jessica picked up a soggy wad of toilet paper and dropped it into the trashcan. "Yes, but *how* long, Chris? You said that she was a cheerful, well-adjusted child at the Kents' place. She must be *really* unhappy to behave like this. How much longer before we see the *real* Rachel?" she asked, holding back tears of frustration.
Chris started to answer, but got distracted by the silence that settled over the house. "Jess, can we talk about this after we mop up the water?" he asked. "I'll be right back after I check on Rachel."
Jessica nodded and pushed her hair back from her face in irritation as she reached behind the door to get the mop. "Hurry up," she said.
Chris tiptoed down the hall and peeked into Rachel's room. He sighed in relief as he saw her, sprawled out on the rug. He walked quietly into the room and brushed her hair back from her tearstained face. " I miss you, Momma," Rachel murmured sleepily. " Daddy, come get me."
His heart ached as he heard that precious name, knowing it was meant for another man. He closed his eyes tightly before leaning down to brush a kiss against her forehead. Chris picked her up gently and carried her over to the bed, tucking her in. He looked down at his daughter's flushed face and sighed. He had long ago forfeited his right to hear her call him 'daddy', and it was time he faced that fact.
Rachel wasn't happy with him, and she might never be. She was happy at the Kents’ and she loved them. Kids might be resilient, but his baby *would* really hate him if he tried to keep her away from them.
If he gave her back and signed his consent for the Kents to adopt her, maybe they'd let him stay in her life. In this case, perhaps letting someone else be her father was his only chance for a real relationship with her.
Chris brushed a strand of hair out of her face and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. "I love you, Rachel," he whispered. "But I think that this is the only way for you to be happy again. Forgive me, baby girl; I love you too much to go on with this. I hope you understand when you get older."
"Daddy, I love you," Rachel sighed, rolling over. "Momma, can I sleep with you tonight?"
Chris stood up and pulled the blankets around Rachel, tucking her in one last time. He walked out of the room and shut the door quietly behind him, then hurried to help Jessica clean up the mess. "She's asleep," he said briefly, “she’s probably exhausted from wrecking the house.”
Jessica leaned back against the counter and ran her hand up and down the handle of the mop. “Chris, I love you; you know that. But I just don't see how we're going to deal with Rachel. I heard what she screamed at you and I bet she has the same feelings about me.”
Chris leaned in and kissed her gently. “I'm giving her back to the Kents,” he said quietly. “*They* are her parents, and I don't think that Rachel will *ever* accept me in that role. Giving her back is probably the kindest thing I can do to show her that I really *do* love her. It's time I faced the fact that I lost the chance to be her daddy when I left Michaela.”
Jessica reached out and grabbed his hand. “Are you sure, Chris? It's true that I don't think I'm ready to instantly become the mother of a disturbed five-year-old, but I know what she means to you. I'm willing to *try*.”
“I know you are,” he said as he brought his free hand up to cup her cheek. Jessica leaned into his touch and closed her eyes. “But I want my baby girl to be happy--and she isn't happy here.”
Jessica nodded and turned her head to place a soft kiss in his palm. “Do you want to call the lawyer, or shall I?” she asked.
“I will... and I'll call Rachel's lawyer.”
“I'm sorry, Chris. I know how much you wanted to take care of Rachel.”
Chris kissed Jessica on the forehead. “I think I still am.” Jessica let go of the mop and hugged him tightly. He relaxed into her embrace. He knew he was doing the best he could for his daughter; he just wished it didn't hurt so much.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
December 24, 1998 11:00 am
348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis
Lois leaned back against Clark and flipped through the file yet again. She missed Rachel desperately, and looking at the SIDS case was a way to keep her from losing her mind. She laid her head against Clark's shoulder and scanned the page for what seemed to be the millionth time without understanding it. "Find anything?" she asked.
"Nope," he answered absently, apparently still reading through his half of the file, superspeed not withstanding.
Lois dropped the file on the table and grimaced. "I just can't concentrate on this," she said quietly. "I've reread the same paragraph at least half a dozen times, and it still doesn't make sense."
Clark gently began to massage her shoulders. "I can't concentrate, either," he admitted. "I miss Rachel," he said with a sigh. He leaned down and kissed Lois on the back of her neck.
"I miss her, too," Lois whispered. "I know I've said this before, but I just want my baby back. Perry is going to shelve this investigation soon if we don't get results, but it doesn't even matter to me right now--I just want to hold our daughter again."
Clark gathered Lois close to him and hugged her. "Lois, honey, I know that this hurts, but we can't do anything about it. I wish that they hadn't sent Rachel to live with strangers, but this is something that even Superman can't fix. Honey, we can’t do anything about Rachel right now, but maybe by solving this epidemic of crib deaths, we can prevent some other parent—a lot of other parents—from feeling this miserable."
"Sweetheart, I *know*," Lois said, leaning into him as if to draw strength from his powerful frame. "Clark," she began twisting so she could look up at him, " what are we going to do now?"
"We go on as a family of two," he said softly. "And someday, if we're very lucky," he brought his hand to rest on her flat stomach, "we'll have a baby of our own that the courts won't take away from us."
"And if we don't?" she asked, fighting back tears.
"Then we stay a smaller family than we'd like--but we'll be all right," he answered, but for one of the first times in his life, he didn't know if he believed that. He wasn't sure if he'd ever stop missing the little girl who'd come to mean so much to him... Much like when he'd first met Lois, Rachel had grabbed his heart from minute one and it hurt like hell to have her taken from them--he didn't think he'd ever really get over losing her.
Clark ran his fingers through Lois's hair in an attempt to comfort her. It was too late to cancel their Christmas plans, but as soon as they could, he'd take Lois to an island somewhere. Perhaps they could mend their hearts. He knew how she felt; he felt the same way. It wasn't quite as bad as when he had lost Lois to Luthor; it was a different kind of pain, but it was a close second.
Clark leaned down and kissed her. Their lips clung together, reassuring each other without words that they would still be okay in the days to come. When the phone rang, they reluctantly released each other, and Lois reached for it. "Kent residence," she said.
"Mrs. Kent?" a feminine voice said. "This is Constance Hunter--Rachel's guardian ad litem."
"Is Rachel okay?" she asked anxiously, worried that something terrible had happened to her little girl.
"Yes, she's all right… mostly," she answered vaguely, "but she misses you and your husband."
"What is this about, then?" Lois suppressed her wish to slam the phone back down, suddenly angry that Constance had added to her heartbreak. Before, she’d been able to console herself with the belief that Rachel was safe and happy. Now she’d lost even that small comfort.
"Mrs. Kent--Ms. Lane, Mr. Taylor contacted me to say that he's made a terrible mistake. Rachel is miserable, I'm guessing that you and your husband are miserable. He thinks that he should have never interfered, and he wants to apologize. His lawyer is drawing up the adoption papers and he's going to sign over his parental rights on the condition that you and Mr. Kent adopt her. Rachel loves you and is happy with you. Mr. Taylor is resigned to her being your daughter if you want her."
"She's ours?" Lois questioned incredulously. "You mean that we can bring her home, this time for good? When?"
Clark’s face broke into a grin. He was overjoyed at the prospect of having Rachel home where she belonged. He'd heard the entire conversation; as soon as he’d realized who was on the other end of the line, he'd been unable to resist listening in. Joy welled up in him and laughter warred with tears. His baby girl was coming home!
"Yes, Ms. Lane. I've scheduled an emergency rush meeting with Mr. Taylor's lawyer and your lawyer for 12:30 today, and I should have the papers prepared by tonight. I can be there at six with the paperwork ready for your and Mr. Kent’s signatures, if that's okay."
"Thank you so much, Ms. Hunter; you don't know how much this means to us," Lois said gratefully. "We'll see you at six. Once the papers are signed, how soon can we file them? Not until the day after tomorrow?” A small shadow momentarily crossed Lois’ face, but she gamely continued “Okay, I guess we can wait 'til then, now that we know Rachel’s coming home for sure.” "
With that, she hung up the phone and flung herself into Clark's arms. She was half-laughing and half-crying as he swung her around joyfully and kissed her. Rachel was coming home the day after tomorrow, and all was again right in the world.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
December 24, 1998, 5:30 pm
258 Deerwater Drive, North Metropolis
Rachel sat in front of the television and watched the news as she colored in her coloring book. The Fakedaddy had insisted upon her staying within sight ever since she'd woken up, so there wasn't much else she could do. She looked up at the TV and watched as Superman rescued some children from an apartment fire and then flew down to talk to the TV news lady.
Rachel frowned as she studied the figure in tights; there was something about Superman that looked awful familiar. She studied the man's face with concentration. Superman looked like Daddy--exactly like Daddy. It was possible that he wasn't Daddy, so she thought she'd better do what Grandpa Perry had told her to do… investigate.
If Daddy really was Superman, she'd find out and it meant that Superman couldn't be scary anymore, because she was his little girl and he loved her. "Daddy," Rachel whispered, reaching out to touch the television. "Please, come and get me?" she murmured plaintively. If Daddy really was Superman, he’d be able to hear her.
"Rachel," she heard Fakedaddy call. "C'mere."
Rachel sighed, got up, and walked towards him obediently; stopping at what she felt was a safe distance. "Rachel," he said quietly. "I need you to gather up your crayons and your other toys. I made a mistake, and I hope that when you’re a little older, you’ll be able to forgive me. I'm sorry I took you away from the Kents, sweetie. They’d like you to come back. Do you want to go home to their house—for good?"
"Home?" Rachel asked incredulously. "I get to go home to Momma and Daddy?"
"Yes, you do, Rachel," he said sadly. "I just want you to be happy."
"Thank you, Mister!" she said happily. running over to pick up her crayons and stuff them in the box, before he changed his mind.
Chris watched her pick up the toys and sighed. It hurt to give her to the Kents, but he was sure that it was the best decision for all concerned. Rachel would be happy there, and wasn't that what was most important? Chris sighed as Rachel finished picking up the last of her toys and grabbed her teddy bear. He took the toys from her, put them in a brown paper bag, and held out his hand to her. "Let's go, Rachel," he said quietly, grabbing their coats.
Rachel ignored his hand and ran to the door, clutching CJ tightly. She opened the door with difficulty and skipped out to the car. "C'mon, Mister," she called happily. "Let's go home!"
Chris smiled reluctantly at the child's enthusiasm as he strapped her into he car and put the paper bag inside. It was the first time he’d seen her beaming happily since the night of the party at the Kents. He'd already packed her suitcase and put it in the car, so there wasn't much left to do besides take her home. He climbed in the car, buckled his seatbelt, and headed over to the Kents.
It seemed as if no time had passed in the thirty minute drive from his house as he stood in front of their door, Rachel in tow. He rang the doorbell and waited. A lump formed in his throat as the door opened, revealing a shocked but ecstatic Lois and Clark. Rachel shook off his hand and hurled herself at her parents. "Momma, Daddy!" she called. Clark detached her gently and picked her up, shock on his face. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. "Daddy," she said with a sigh. "I *missed* you and Momma."
Clark hugged her tightly. "We missed you too, sprite," he said softly. "More than you can ever know."
"Can I sleep with you and Momma tonight?" she asked.
"Not tonight, peanut--Santa will be coming and he'll be watching to make sure that you're in your own bed," Lois answered, surprise warring with joy on her face.
Rachel sighed, closed her eyes, and laid her head on Clark's shoulder. "Then can I sleep with you *tomorrow* night?" she pleaded.
"Of course you can, sprite," Clark answered before turning to Chris, swiftly wiping a suspiciously tearlike snowflake from his eyes. "Thank you, Mr. Taylor… for giving us our little girl back."
"You're welcome, Mr. Kent," he said as he reached into his coat pocket for the papers. "I thought you'd like to have a copy of these--I've signed away my paternal rights on the condition that you and Ms. Lane adopt Rachel; here are the adoption papers. I convinced Ms. Hunter to let me deliver Rachel along with them; it’s almost Christmas, after all." He handed the papers to Lois. "I hope you guys have a good Christmas."
"We will now, Mr. Taylor, you've made sure of that. You've given us the best gift we could ever have." Lois watched as he turned and walked away, then dropped a kiss in Rachel's hair and shut the door. "Are you hungry, peanut?" she asked quietly.
"Uh huh," Rachel answered.
Clark settled Rachel on his hip and reached for Lois's hand. "Let's go get some supper, say hello to Grandma and Grandpa Kent, set out some cookies and milk for Santa Claus, and get you ready for bed. Does that sound good, sprite?"
Rachel wriggled excitedly. "Is Santa really coming?" she asked.
"Of course he is, peanut," Lois said with a laugh. "It's Christmas tomorrow, isn't it?"
"Uh huh," Rachel answered. "Good thing I’m back home so Santa knows where to find me. I love you."
"We love you, too, kiddo," Clark said as he kissed her on the cheek. Rachel buried her face in his shoulder and sighed happily as he carried her toward the kitchen. A few hours later, Lois and Clark stood in the doorway to Rachel's room and watched their daughter sleep. They had gone through her nightly routine of stories, songs, and added the Christmas traditions from Clark's childhood.
"Our baby is *home*," Lois whispered.
Clark leaned down and captured her lips in a sweet kiss. "I know," he said, his face lit up with joy. "And now that our sprite is asleep, it's time for Santa Claus to come," he whispered. "I'll be right back."
Clark sped up into the attic and got the presents down. It wasn't long before he had them arranged around the Christmas tree with other gifts, and had the stockings filled with goodies and small toys. Lois wrapped her arms around him from behind and kissed his back softly, right between his shoulder blades. "All finished?" she asked.
"Almost," he said, smiling. "Santa's snack just needs to be eaten."
Lois picked up the cookies and handed one to him. "Good thing these are chocolate chocolate-chip," she said with a smile.
They ate Santa's snack in silence; then headed upstairs. Their baby was home where she belonged, they had the papers that said she was to legally be their child, and Christmas was only a few hours away. Lois's parents were coming to celebrate with them, and Clark's parents were upstairs in their room. The elder Kents insisted upon adding their own touches to Rachel's Christmas haul, and they wanted to do it by themselves, so they were waiting for "Santa" to finish. Clark hugged Lois to him and kissed her. Their family was complete and it was going to be a wonderful Christmas after all.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
TBC...
