Lana awoke to the mouth-watering smell of cooking meat. Gathering up Laura, she exited the tent and came to the fire. Clark had a large piece of meat on the cooking rack over the fire, and based on the browning of the top side, he was also augmenting the fire with his heat vision.
"Are you up for some bear?" he asked. Lana thought that he looked a lot better this morning, back to his normal self.
"I don't know…" Lana had never thought about eating wild game before. But that was before she'd been stuck in the wilderness for days, eating dehydrated camp meals. Saliva flooded her mouth at the savory smell.
"Let me just make sure it's well-cooked", Clark said. Curious, Lana focused on his eyes. It was hard to tell in the bright morning sunlight, but she thought she saw them turn orange-red for a short time. She moved her hand near the area between his eyes and the cooking meat; the air was warm. Clark blinked and the redness disappeared.
"Be careful", he said. "I don't want to burn you."
Lana ignored the implied rebuke. "You know, you're pretty handy to have around, Clark Kent", she said in a teasing voice.
Clark gave an awkward smile. Laura's wail cut off his reply. They both looked at the baby.
"Let me take care of her", Clark said.
"Are you sure? I think she needs changing", Lana said with a grimace.
"You just sit here and have some breakfast." With a blur and a whoosh, he stood in front of her, now holding her Swiss Army knife and his camp fork. He lifted the plate containing the cooked steak, setting it on a convenient tree stump nearby. "Here you go", Clark said as he took Laura from her arms.
The scent of the cooked steak was downright Pavlovian. Lana gave one look at Laura, wiggling in Clark's arms, Clark giving the baby a foolish smile. Then Lana took the silverware and dug in.
Clark held the baby close. He checked Laura's makeshift diaper – she did need changing. Turning her in his arms so that she was cradled against his chest, he sped down to the lakefront. He swished out Laura's diaper and heated some water to wash her. She cried loudly at the washing.
"There, there", Clark found himself saying inanely. I don't know what to say to babies. He felt more out of place than usual. Then he mentally kicked himself when he realized he'd forgotten a towel to wipe Laura dry. With a sigh, he held the wet baby close to him again and sped back to the campsite. Somehow he managed to get Laura dried off, and even back into another makeshift diaper which he'd made by tearing up one of Lana's maternity outfits.
It was too bad she'd gone in for a lot of synthetics; only a few outfits were mostly cotton. Fortunately one was a wide-cut maternity nightgown. That had yielded quite a few diapers. They'd used another outfit to cover the baby. Lana had said, "You know, besides the complete set of Dr. Seuss books, Chloe gave me three really nice receiving blankets and two cases of disposable diapers at the shower. Plus some onesies." She looked at the makeshift wrappings and laughed ruefully.
Clark walked around the campsite, holding Laura, enjoying the northern summer sun. He could feel the warmth of Laura's tiny body, feel her birdlike heartbeat. Her crying trailed off as she nuzzled up to his chest. Clark supported her head with one hand; her skull fit into his palm. He found himself crooning in a wordless monotone to her. He met her eyes and smiled; he saw her eyes come into startled focus. He smiled again, then gave a loud laugh. The corners of Laura's mouth quirked up – was she trying to smile too?
Clark headed back to the fire. Lana had polished off most of the decent-sized steak. He sat down and wordlessly handed Laura to her. Lana pulled up her shirt and put the baby to her breast.
"Um, are you doing OK, um, ah, with the nursing?" Clark asked awkwardly. As far as he was concerned, this was more embarrassing than talking about sex.
"Well, really I don't know much about it either", Lana replied. "I was worried I wasn't going to have enough milk but so far she seems to be doing OK, Clark." She adjusted the baby's position. "I still think we should get her home as soon as we can."
Clark sighed. "I agree with you. It's just that I don't think today is a good day. I'm mostly recovering, but I'm still not quite myself." His expression turned inward for a moment. "And I don't think you're quite ready either."
"I'm still bleeding, but only a little bit", Lana said, matter-of-factly. "I'm pretty sore still, though." Clark looked away. Lana noted his blush. "You're not comfortable with all this girl talk, are you?"
"Well, you know, when they had showers – baby or wedding - it was always a…a female thing…me and my dad never got invited." Clark grinned.
"Alien in more ways than one!" Lana said, giving him a smile to let him know it was in fun. "Do you remember that time Chloe was ragging on you and she said, 'Men are from Mars, women are from Venus, but you, Clark are from some planet in a faraway galaxy!'"
Clark returned an unsure smile. "Little did she know that truer words were never spoken", he said sardonically. He didn't like being teased but he was glad that Lana felt comfortable enough to joke with him about it.
"God, here I am stuck in the wilderness with someone who knows even less about babies than I do!" she continued in mock exasperation.
"I did read a medical textbook once", Clark said apologetically.
"Ah, but lately?" Lana asked.
"No, years and years ago." Clark didn't want to mention his exceptional memory; he could visualize the pages of the book in front of him this very minute.
"Well, I've been reading those What to Expect When You're Expecting series, and based on what I've read, I think we're doing OK so far." They both looked at the baby, who cried for a moment when Lana switched her to the other breast.
"Clark?" Lana asked quietly.
"What?"
"I never thanked you for saving my life. I mean, you almost died fighting that bear." A pause. "I just want to say thank you."
Clark said nothing for a moment, unsure how to respond. He'd often dreamed of Lana saying those words, hoping for the day when he'd use his powers in front of her and she'd accept him. Somehow the reality was different than he'd imagined in his fantasies.
"It's all right", he said roughly. He got up, paced, changed the subject.
"I got the bear butchered up", he said. "I was able to freeze the larger pieces." With my breath, were the unspoken words. "Some of the rest I cut up into small pieces and made bear jerky. That'll be good for travel rations."
"What about the skin?" Lana asked curiously.
"I dumped the skin and the viscera in the forest", Clark pointed off in a direction opposite to that of where Lana had thrown the kryptonite. "It's kind of a waste, I know, but I don't know anything about tanning hides."
"That's too bad. I figured you could put the bearskin rug in your barn loft", Lana said teasingly.
Clark laughed. "Yeah, that would sure add to the décor…it would be quite a conversation piece."
"The only trouble is, you don't want that kind of conversation, like where'd you get a bearskin rug?, do you Clark?" Lana needled him.
"That's the kind of stuff that might blow my cover", Clark said, the fun gone from his voice as he recalled his nightmares. Lana looked at his unsmiling face and dropped the topic.
"What about getting back home?" she asked.
"Well, I think we shouldn't try to go today. You're still…" he gestured awkwardly at her stomach, somehow including Laura in the gesture.
"Yes."
"And I'm still not totally myself. So let's get all set today, and we'll leave tomorrow morning."
"OK", Lana agreed. It sounded reasonable to her.
Clark got up, began pacing. "Here's the plan: I'll pack up everything I can in the backpack."
"One thing, there's fewer dehydrated meals to carry", Lana said ruefully.
"I'll carry some bear meat too." Clark took another few steps. "Then you can carry Laura, and I can carry you in my arms." Unconsciously lengthening his stride, Clark said, "Even if I'm not running at full speed, I bet I can make fifty or sixty miles in a day." He stopped, sat down again.
"We'll have to make a lot of stops to feed the baby and change her."
Clark shrugged his shoulders. "No problem." He looked at Laura, contentedly nursing. "I just hurtled through the forest on the way here and I wasn't paying a lot of attention to the roads." He frowned. "Now I wish I really had brought my GPS and maps."
"Ah, the non-existent GPS!" Lana needled him. Clark returned a wry smile.
"Anyway, I'll do my best", Clark said.
Lana spoke in a confident tone. "You'll get us home safely, Clark", she said.
They spent the remainder of the day doing some housekeeping chores. Clark took the finest fishing hook, and using a combination of heat vision and his hand strength, straightened it and smoothed down the barb. Then he threaded the round "eye" of the hook with some fishing line, and squeezed it down to a long, thin oval eye.
Meanwhile, Lana had been using the scissors attachment on her Swiss Army knife to cut up another one of her maternity outfits. Using the fishing-hook "needle", she sewed a crude sling-type carrier for Laura. It was no great shakes, but at least it would allow Lana to have her hands free some of the time while carrying the baby.
Clark had five big meals of bear steak that day. He also scouted around the lake and forest, looking for possible edible plants. He brought in some cattails – "I read somewhere that the entire plant is edible" – he told Lana, and hit the jackpot – a patch of blueberries deep in the forest. Manfully, he refrained from eating the whole patch; he got a pan, picked the whole patch in super-speed, and brought it back to Lana to share.
He cooked another piece of bear for her; she ate it, although with less appetite than she'd had for the steak this morning. They didn't really know how to prepare the cattails; they ended up cutting them up into small bits, boiling them with a little water, and putting some bear meat in with them. It made a sort of mushy soup, although the taste was…unique.
The blueberries, reserved for dessert, had a savor not found in store-bought fruit. They ate each tiny berry separately, the flavor exploding on their tongues. It cut the greasy taste of bear. They looked at each other and laughed – their teeth and tongues were purple.
All through the day they took care of Laura, holding her, rocking her, talking to her. Lana nursed her frequently; she was worried that she wasn't producing enough milk for the baby. Fortunately, Laura seemed to have a strong suckling reflex, and seemed to be getting enough based on her napping after feeding.
Clark was amazed at how many diapers a small baby could use in a day. The small pack of disinfectant wipes quickly emptied. Clark dutifully took each dirty diaper to the lake, rinsed it out, and washed it. He was glad he'd brought a large bar of soap – he took minuscule amounts and used his super-speed to lather up. Drying diapers festooned the clothesline.
Periodically he'd go back and check on the large chunks of bear he'd hung from a tree branch. The outsides were thawing a little bit, but he'd dropped the temperature of the meat so low that the majority remained in deep-freeze. He gave the meat another chilling breath each time.
Lana took several long naps, exhausted by the events of the past few days. Clark joined her for one of the naps, figuring he'd done everything he could do right now. And he still felt a little weak from the bear attack. The baby woke them up every few hours, demanding to be nursed or burped or changed or washed. Lana dealt with her the first few times; then, the next time, Clark said, "I'll take care of her."
Lana didn't even bother giving him an argument. "Fine", she said, giving him Laura to hold, then falling back on the sleeping bag and closing her eyes. Clark smiled. She must be pretty tired.
Clark exited the tent. He stood up outside in the sunshine, holding Laura. I hope she doesn't want to eat. He checked her diaper – yes, it was dirty again. He got the washcloth and one of the drying diapers off the clothesline, and carried Laura to the lake. There, he gently cleaned her, warming the water. He also warmed her new diaper for her. They didn't have safety pins; Clark had bent some more fishhooks into a crude substitute. The diapers were loose and unfortunately tended to leak. They'd already learned, when Laura got that expression on her face, take her outside right away.
Laura stopped fussing when she was warm, clean, and dry. Clark held her closely, sitting on a log, looking out at the lake. The setting sun behind him colored the lake surface with reddish streaks. Laura wiggled a little in her wrappings, then gave a small mew and settled down quietly. Clark shifted her in his arms, putting her head up to his shoulder. She gave a tiny sigh and fell asleep.
Clark sat there for an hour, holding the sleeping baby, gazing out at the lake. She seemed content in his hands, occasionally making small movements in her sleep. He supported Laura's head in his palm.
Clark thought of might-have-beens, of things now forever out of his grasp. I wonder if this is the closest I'll ever get to having children of my own. A bitter smile tinged his lips. He'd thought about that a lot since he regained his powers. Then he breathed in sharply as an idea came to him. Could he actually be Laura's father? He did the math – it was possible. Excitement coursed through him at the possibility. How to prove it, though? The usual method was DNA testing but that wouldn't be possible for him. It would have to be a diagnosis of exclusion – if Lex's DNA didn't support his fatherhood, then it must be Clark. His mind was awhirl with thoughts. Maybe Chloe could help somehow….
As twilight fell, Clark got up, moved back to the campsite. He gently put the sleeping baby back in the tent next to her mother. Lana woke; Clark said, "Dinner in an hour?" She nodded sleepily.
He puttered around the campsite, not bothering to use his heat vision, boiling water the normal way over the fire. He made some more cattail-and-bear soup; he grilled another steak; he re-hydrated another camp meal. Clark went to the tent, peeked in; Lana was awake but the baby still slept.
"Dinner's ready", Clark told Lana.
Lana looked uncertainly at the baby.
"You can leave her there and I'll keep my eyes and ears open", Clark promised. Lana looked dubious for a moment, then processed what he'd said. Relief crossed her face.
"OK", she said, and got out of the tent.
Clark served her the rehydrated meal and some soup. He finished off the steak and the rest of the soup. Mercifully, Laura slept through most of the dinner. Clark heard her cry; he quickly finished off his steak, then super-sped to the tent to get her. Laura kept on crying when he picked her up.
Clark brought the baby back to Lana. "I think she's hungry", he said. Laura proved him right by latching onto the nipple ferociously. "Ow!" Lana cried.
"What?" Clark asked.
"I think I'm getting chapped nipples", Lana said.
Clark blushed a deep red. Too much information - don't want to think about that! Then he remembered the cows at home – they'd used Bag Balm when the cows had the same problem. He carefully didn't mention that to Lana. He had an idea. "I think you can use bear grease."
Lana looked at him in surprise, then with agreement. "But how?"
"I'm not sure." Clark began pacing again, as he tended to do when he had an idea. "I think I have to cook it down and strain off the top."
"Can you do that?"
"I think so." Clark stuck his finger on the inside of the pan where he'd cooked the soup; as he'd hoped, a tiny layer of grease coated the pan. "In fact, here's some left over." He came over to her, put his finger on her wrist, showing her the moisturizer. "You can use that when Laura's done."
When that time came, Clark felt uncomfortable. He left Lana to moisturize herself and he jogged back to where the bear chunks hung. Fortunately, the bear had quite a bit of fat already for the season, and when Clark had butchered it out, he'd left fat on the outside of the meat, figuring it would delay the thawing. Clark ripped off a small chunk of fat and brought it back to the campsite.
It was easier than he'd thought. Heat vision made quick work of boiling the fat. Clark looked around for something to put it into; he found a compact from Lana's toiletry case. Unfortunately, the makeup inside had been lost in the lake, but the mirror was OK, and the loss of the makeup left a nice little basin to collect the grease. Clark gently poured it into the compact, using his hand to guide the flow of hot fat, cooling it slightly as he poured.
Lana looked on in interest, stirring a little when he stuck his hand into the boiling grease, then subsiding as she realized it wouldn't hurt him. Clark presented her with the compact. "For your use, Madame", he said in his most egregious faux-French accent.
"Thank you, M'sieur", she replied in the same tone.
Clark made quick work of the clean-up, super-speeding through the washing. He joined Lana at the campfire, putting on a few more logs as he passed by. Together they sat, watching sparks fly up into the darkening sky. Twilight darkened into full night; the stars came out.
"You can see so many more stars here than in Metropolis", Lana marveled, breaking their silence.
"I know. The air's a lot cleaner here", Clark said quietly. "There's less light pollution too."
Lana snuggled in closer to him, again enjoying the warmth he exuded. She thought about asking, Where is the star you came from, Clark? But in the end she didn't.
