For One So Small

It was a sunny day in September that found Clay Evans painting his first-born's future nursery walls. Even though the protective plastic sheets covering the floor were a mess, Clay couldn't help being proud of how the sky-blue paint covering more and more of the wall space was turning out. From the living room, the opening song of Tarzan met his ears and Clay smirked as his brush continued to smoothly move across the wall. Seven months pregnant now, Sara had developed an obsession with her childhood favorite Disney films.

He had given her strict instructions not to set foot in the nursery until the day he said it was okay, so anything that kept her glued to the couch was fine by him. She had her cell phone handy, since moving was becoming increasingly taxing at her size, and Clay was constantly on the alert for his ringtone to break the silence. It was barely five minutes later that the call came and Clay pounced on his phone; "You need something, angel?"

"Yeah…you," said his wife's muffled voice thickly and Clay could have sworn she was sniffling.

"I'll be right there." Without a moment's hesitation, Clay disconnected the call and tossed his paintbrush aside. Then he charged down the hall to the living room and screeched to an astonished halt near the kitchen counter. The animated film on the wall-mounted television was paused on a shot of a very dejected looking gorilla, standing alone at the top of a hill. Sara was propped up on the couch, hugging a cushion to her belly with her feet resting on the coffee table in front of her. Her lips were actually quivering as one finger toyed with a strand of her blonde curls in apparent agitation. "Sara, are you crying?" he asked in disbelief, looking from the television screen to his wife in amusement.

"Kala's baby is dead," the blonde wailed, without looking at him; "What if something happens to our baby, Clay?"

"Kala is a fictional gorilla, sweetheart," he pointed out. "We don't live in the jungle for starters." She shifted awkwardly to make room for him on the couch and Clay ended up with Sara's swollen feet in his lap. Rubbing the soles of her feet gently, he continued; "Secondly, do you really think I'd ever let anything happen to this little guy?" He glanced at the frozen image of Kala's misery on the screen; "Besides, isn't the whole point of this story that she adopts Tarzan anyway?"

"You're a saint," Sara moaned in pleasure with her eyes closed as the ache in her feet subsided. "I guess that's true. But even Tarzan's parents were killed. Oh God, what if something happens to us? What will happen to our baby then?"

"Stop it, you goof," he said firmly. "We're not going anywhere, okay? This baby is going to be to be safe and loved forever. Forever is a very long time you know," he winked and Sara finally looked at him properly. Very abruptly a grin broke out on her face, followed by one of the adorable giggles that had made him fall in love with her when they first met. "That's better," he said affectionately. "What's so funny?"

In response Sara trailed her thumb across his forehead and showed him the smudge of blue it came away with. "You just gave away the color of the nursery I think," she laughed. "You look like Harry Potter, just with a blue scar."

"Damn," he groaned. "Trust me it looks way better on the walls than it does on me." He placed his hand tenderly on her belly and grinned at the fluttering kicks against his palm; "I hope you like blue, little man. It's Superman's color, you know."

"You're such a dork," she sighed affectionately. "Please don't tell me you want to name our son Clark."

"There's nothing wrong with the name Clark," he protested. "But no, you know I love Batman and Wolverine best," he smirked at her exasperated eye roll.

"What am I going to do with you?" she teased. She frowned thoughtfully for a moment; "Hang on, wasn't Batman's real name Bruce?" she shuddered involuntarily. "I refuse to put my baby through that, sorry."

"Lucky for you Wolverine is the best then," he told her. Her gaze was focused on the film again, where Kala's mate and leader of the gorillas was now rejecting the human baby. Clay rolled his eyes affectionately as Sara's hazel eyes filled with tears again. He reached across her vast figure carefully and grabbed the remote to pause the film again. "Focus angel," he laughed, kissing away the tears on her cheeks gently.

Sara grabbed his hand when he tried to move away and held it against her huge baby bump again. "Promise you'll never reject our son like that," she begged quaveringly, nodding at the television screen.

"That's offensive, I'll have you know. I won't let anyone else ever hurt our kid if I can help it and I certainly won't reject him. In two months you'll no longer be my favorite person in the whole world, fair warning," he told her solemnly.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, holding out her hand to him in apology. He pressed his large palm flat against her dainty one, just like Tarzan and Jane did in the movie and she smiled appreciatively. "I just want him to be safe and happy more than anything in the world. I'm perfectly happy being second on your list of favorite people if he's at the top."

"He will be, I promise," Clay swore, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "As long as his sappy goofball of a Mom stops crying, that is." One minute Sara was gazing adoringly at him and the next tearing up again, he couldn't help but find it amusing. Clay glanced at the television and then at his wife once more; "This movie is so bad for your hormones," he said decisively and she punched his shoulder playfully. "I'm serious, stop with the murdered parents and dead gorilla babies already. Where are your shoes? I have an idea, meet me in the yard," he said mysteriously.

After helping her carefully to her feet, Clay vanished outside and left his wife hunting for a comfortable pair of sneakers, utterly confused. When she had located a pair of shoes that still fit, she waddled slowly into the garden. Even Clay had used the time to change into a grey t-shirt not smeared with blue paint and was now seated on one of two wooden chairs he had dragged from the deck to the middle of the lawn. He patted the very considerately padded spare seat beside him and grinned goofily at her approaching figure. "What on earth are you doing?" she asked him, noticing the camera balanced on his lap as she drew closer to the chairs and lowered herself gingerly into the vacant one.

"We are going to take some pictures," Clay explained enthusiastically, waving the camera in her face. "I figured with a picture of both of us in the nursery with him, our little guy will always feel safe. We can be like guardian angels," he beamed proudly. "Cool, right?"

"You are incapable of cool, Clay Evans," she laughed as his excited grin gave way to an offended pout. Holding his head tenderly between her hands, she pressed her lips firmly to his and kissed him until the need for oxygen broke the streak of passion.

"Wow," he blinked at her in awe. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"

"That was for being you," she said simply. "My hero and his," she said, nodding at her bulging belly. He caressed the bump lovingly as Sara grabbed the camera from his lap. "Can I take the first one?" she asked eagerly and Clay nodded reluctantly.

"Okay, but you have to turn it around to take a selfie," he pointed out.

"Duly noted, Einstein," she shot back with a teasing roll of her deep hazel eyes. "Just come closer and give me that boyish grin of yours, clear?"

"I can totally do that." He leaned obligingly closer to her across the two armrests between them, as Sara held the camera up at an angle. "On the count of two?"

"You know it." She shot him a dazzling smile and pressed a kiss to his cheek before adjusting the flash settings on the camera. "It's kind of our thing, after all." The twenty-four year couple had first met as college sophomores five years previously, when urged by daredevil friends to participate in jumping off a bridge near the university campus, into a lake. Clay and Sara had both been reluctant and terrified to perform the stunt and held hands to dive in unison. Adrenaline had prompted their first kiss in the chilly water and there had been no going back from that moment. Clay had actually been raised with the habit to do anything on the count of two rather than three, but since that fateful jump it was irrevocably their thing. When the camera flash indicated a shot had been taken, Sara eagerly turned the camera around to preview her handiwork. Her rosy lips quivered in displeasure at what she saw; "Ugh, I look like a whale," she moaned pitifully, setting the camera down on her lap and glaring at it, as if the device had personally offended her.

"Let me see that," Clay smirked, shaking his head at her adorable pout. He grabbed the camera and narrowed his eyes intently at the preview screen in mock-scrutiny. "I don't see any whales here," he said in a serious voice, but his dark blue eyes were sparkling in amusement. "There's just a knucklehead and his angel…and a growing little superhero of course."

"You're sweet," Sara told him, pressing her head against his shoulder as he prepared the next shot. "I guess photography isn't my thing, we look headless," she laughed at the failed photograph.

"Yeah," he nodded, trailing his fingers across her shoulder blades. "My next wife will be a much better photographer," he joked and Sara pulled away from the embrace and glared at him.

"Clay! That was rude," she protested. She traced the wedding band on his finger and squeezed his hand tightly; "You're mine, you knucklehead, don't you dare forget who proposed in the first place."

"Never," he promised solemnly. "Come closer or we'll be headless again, you goof."

Sara placed her hand on his shoulder and tilted her head towards him with another huge smile. "One…two," she counted softly and then there was another flash.

"Would you look at that?" Clay crowed triumphantly. "Our heads are back, that is how it's done, baby!"

"Yeah, yeah, rub it in," she groaned and arched her back slowly.

"You okay?"

"Your son is a kicker," she laughed. "Do you mind if we go back inside? My back is killing me."

"Your wish is my command," he joked and pulled her carefully to her feet. He kept his arm firmly around her as they walked back along the stone path to the front door and in no time the pair was back on the living room couch. Clay placed his hand gently against her belly once more as Sara adjusted the cushions behind her; "Hey Wolverine, stop hurting your mother, right now," he demanded sternly. "It's not nice."

"Don't you have work to be getting on with, Mr. Super Agent?" Sara asked him, attempting to punch the cushion behind her into a comfortable shape.

"It can wait," he said simply. "I have a better idea, come here." He grabbed the cushion she had been trying to pummel into submission and placed it on his knees. Sara smiled and laid her head on his lap, before reaching for the television remote again. The Disney film had been paused throughout their photoshoot distraction. "How's that?" Clay asked softly.

"Perfect," she murmured. "You're the best." He stroked her hair gently as she watched the film commence. "I love Kala's lullaby so much," she sighed contentedly. "Junior has even stopped squirming, he must like it too."

"If you say so," Clay laughed, watching a bright blue butterfly settle on baby Tarzan's nose and spread its wings. He held his hand against her belly as Sara closed her eyes; "It is a good song," he admitted. "You'll be here in my heart."

"Now and forever more," Sara whispered sleepily and placed her hand on top of his against the baby bump. And in that moment she finally stopped projecting fictional murders into fear for her baby and felt completely safe. "I love you, Clay Evans."

"I love us," he said tenderly. "Our kid will be just fine, angel, I promise!"

A / N This is my first Clara pregnancy fluff that wasn't a tiny flashback. Tarzan is my favorite Disney film and the song actually means a lot to me so it was really sappy to write. More related pieces coming soon, enjoy! xx