Bottle Blues

February 20th 2012

Conner- 8 weeks old

Requested by MarvelAvenger.

Clark's POV

"Clark" Diana mumbles half asleep, lying next to me. "Your turn."

"Hmmm" I groan. Conner cries from the crib at the end of the bed, waking both Diana and me. "I thought you already fed him?"

"I did, but he didn't finish the bottle."

"Why didn't you…"

"Because he inherited your stubbornness Kent" Diana hisses.

Rolling over onto my side, I see on the clock that it is three in the morning. I sigh and force my tired body out of bed. When I reach the crib, I look upon the whimpering infant inside. Conner calms down a tiny bit when he notices my presence looming over him.

I pick my son up and whisper "It's okay Con, daddy's here." The child lets out a couple more whimpers. "Diana, did you put the bottle back in the fridge?" I ask.

Still huddled under the covers, the tired mother of my child moans an affirmation. All I can see is Diana's face and her hair which is in a braid down her back. A habit she adopted a few weeks ago after getting frustrated with it getting in the way of midnight feedings and late night soothing. Long hair and infant care apparently don't mix well when the mother is half asleep.

I trek my way into the kitchen, still carrying the upset baby. For a moment I am turned around, forgetting that I am in Diana's apartment and not my own. I stager over to the fridge and open it. It takes a moment, but I do locate the half drank baby bottle.

Still in a sleepy haze, my mind goes blank on what to do next. I know the milk has to be warmed up, but there's way how to do it. Ummmmm…what did I do yesterday? I was in the kitchen…maybe put it in the oven? No that's ridiculous. The microwave?

Conner lets out a hungry sob in my arms, making my decision process quicken. I coo to the child "Don't fuss, I'll get you the milk. Just give it a sec Con."

As I open the microwave's door, Diana growls from the bedroom "What are you doing?"

"Heating up the bottle" I call out weakly, not having much energy.

"You better not be putting it in the microwave."

"But…" I begin, then sigh. Grabbing the bottle from out of the appliance, I stare at it in contemplation. How do I do this? Why can't I be more awake and actually remember? Oh…a solution pops into my head.

"Don't use your heat vision either."

Damn! How did she know what I was thinking? Ah! I'm freaking Superman and my downfall is a bottle! I can fly hundreds of miles per hour in the sky, I can use X-ray vision to see through walls, I can hear conversations on other planets, buy I can't remember how to heat a bottle of milk! I've never felt more inadequate.

Conner lets out another cry in my arms, breaking my heart just a bit. "I'm sorry son, I just can't think. Don't cry…Diana!" I plead.

"Clark" she snarls. "I swear if you make me get out of this bed…"

"It's fine" I stop her, flinching a bit at tone. Wow, she must be tired. Diana never shows it when she is taking care of Conner, but I can tell night feeding is not her favorite part of parenting. Unfortunately for me, I'm the only one here she can direct her frustration at. "I'll figure it out."

Returning my attention to the bottle in my hand and whimpering son in the other, I sigh. Diana may get cranky being woken up at night, but apparently I lose all intelligence. I stare defeated at the bottle as Conner lets out another cry.

"For heaven's sake Clark! Run it under some warm water in the sink!" Diana calls out.

Oh yeah.

Hurriedly I do as I'm instructed. A few seconds later, I squirt some of the milk onto my wrist and deem it a sufficient temperature. I then feed it to Conner who graciously accepts, his cries ceasing.

Sighing in relief, I make my way back to the bedroom and sit at the edge of the bed. Finally coming out of my sleepy stupor, I watch my son drink the milk with full attentiveness. His eyes blink open and meet my own. I smile at the tiny being in my arms. How I love these moments, even at three in the morning. Feedings are actually some of my favorite times with my son.

Eventually the infant finishes the milk and releases the bottle from his mouth. I place it on the floor next to the crib; I'll take care of that tomorrow morning. Gently I lift Conner up and place him against my chest, his head resting on my shoulder. I stand up and mildly rock as I walk around the room and pat the baby's back.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Diana watching us from the bed silently. I turn to face her and we exchange small smiles, the annoyance we had earlier gone. She watches Conner and me with complete adoration.

Conner lets out a small burp and I feel a warm liquid trail down the back of my shirt. I raise an eyebrow and look over my shoulder to see spit-up covering the back of my shirt. I sigh and readjust Conner into my arms. Figuring that my shirt is already ruined, I use its end to wipe the excess liquid on Conner's face.

Diana lets out a soft giggle. I smirk at her and ask "You find this funny?"

"Just a bit. Here, let me take him" she whispers, rubbing the area on the bed next to her.

I gently place my son next to his mother, who drapes an arm over the baby, huddling him close to her. Conner lets out a soft coo as Diana softly strokes his cheek.

Walking to the hamper, I strip myself of the soiled tee-shirt and toss it in. I contemplate putting on another, but shrug and walk back to the bed. Diana is still doting over Conner, but turns her attention to me when I approach.

"Going shirtless?"

"Are you complaining?" I smirk.

Diana laughs, "Not at all, not at all."

I laugh with her before asking "Want me to put him back in his crib."

"No" Diana shakes her head, kissing Conner's forehead. "Let him sleep with us tonight."

Climbing over Diana's legs, I crawl under the covers on my side of the bed. Diana's back is towards me, so I drape an arm around her and rest my head on her shoulder. Gazing at Conner lying in front of us, we share a moment of peaceful bliss. The baby lets out a yawn and slowly blinks his eyes until they stay shut.

I sigh, "I feel like an idiot."

"Why" Diana frowns and turns her head to look at me.

"I can make hundreds of battle strategies for the League, but I can't make a bottle at three am."

Chuckling Diana says "I'd be embarrassed too."

"Thanks for the support" I smirk. "I like your hair pulled back.

"Mmm, you can thank your son for that."

"Knew the kid would come in handy someday."

"Clark!" Diana chastises but laughs. "Why do you like my hair this way?" she inquires.

"Because it gives me better access to do this" I kiss the side of her neck. Diana lets out a blissful sigh as I continue to her collarbone, until I hit her ticklish area.

She lets out a loud giggle, followed by a whimper from the baby next to her. Both Diana and I freeze, praying Conner doesn't wake from his sleep. After a minute of silence from the infant, we relax. Diana and I lay in silence and slowly begin to ease back into sleep. Well…not complete silence.

Okay, maybe she won't notice. It's all the way in the kitchen, far enough away that she might not hear. Right? She's half asleep anyways.

"Clark."

Dang it!

"You left the faucet on."

I sigh, get out of bed, much to my body's protest, and drag my feet into the kitchen.