Three Quick Notes:
1. This is not a sequel to "Sunday Fathers", but I'll forgive you for finding it thematically similar. :)
2. The quote belongs to Sarah McLachlan.
3. Thanks to Barb for the beta (and general hand-holding). :)
Your love
Is better than ice cream
Sometimes it was hard to be an infinitely merciful and heroic god-on-earth when what he really wanted to be was just a guy, sitting on a park bench, eating ice cream with his kid.
So (for a few minutes anyway) he deliberately stopped noticing the bank alarms and radio dispatches, the breaking news bulletins in fifteen languages, the shouts and the prayers and the whole sordidly, gloriously human business. And instead he listened to the small happy voice sitting next to him.
"I like strawberry," Jason announced, and the truth of that was smeared all around his mouth. "I like it better than vanilla."
"Really?" Clark said. He had a vanilla cone, of course, and when Lois got back he planned to drop half of it on his shirt or maybe his pants - he hadn't made up his mind. It was okay either way; he got a "valued customer" discount at the dry cleaner's. "What's wrong with vanilla?"
Jason shrugged. "It's kind of boring."
Clark looked at his ice cream cone. He'd been eating vanilla ice cream since he was younger than Jason, and the most he could say against this particular cone was that homemade tasted better. "I always thought it was a classic."
Jason shrugged again and took a big slurpy lick of his strawberry. "I didn't used to have these," he said, clearly moving on to more interesting conversation. "Mommy didn't used to let me. 'Cause I had allergies."
"But not anymore?" Clark said, humoring him.
Jason shook his head. "I grew out of them," he said, matter-of-fact. All business, all grown up, with pink milky goo halfway to his ears.
Against his wishes Clark heard an emergency flash about a volcano on the island of Tenerife - but it didn't sound as if they'd need him in the next two minutes. And after that Lois would be done with the mayor's press conference and he'd be off Jason duty.
"I think it's better to be allergic to kryptonite," Jason said, although it was difficult to understand around the mouthful of ice cream and waffle cone.
"Than milk?" Clark said, eyebrows going up despite himself.
"Yup," Jason said. He swung his feet against the bench legs. Thump, thump, thump-thump.
"How is being allergic to kryptonite better?"
Jason grinned up at him, a sly and clever twinkle in his eyes. "Kryptonite doesn't taste so good."
Clark laughed out loud. He had to. Jason squirmed on the bench, visibly delighted by the reaction.
"Even worse than vanilla," Clark agreed.
They worked on their respective ice cream cones until Jason crunched to the conclusion of his. Then Clark watched (more carefully than anyone would ever know) as his son bounced over to the water fountain to rinse off the worst of the strawberry mess.
Jason came back to the bench just as the doors opened across the street, spilling out reporters.
"There's your mom," Clark said. He waved to Lois as she came down the city hall steps; once he was sure that she saw him, he dropped the cone against his tie. "Oops."
Miles away, people were in trouble, people were afraid, people needed Superman.
Beside him, Jason giggled.
And that was what Superman needed, so he stayed put a few moments longer.
"Oh well," Clark said, for Lois' benefit brushing off more vanilla than was actually there. He stood and was pleased when Jason grabbed his hand with his own small sticky one. And squeezed.
"Next time I'm gonna get vanilla," Jason said.
end
