No one is so brave that he is not disturbed by something unexpected.

―Julius Caesar

Lois hastily shut the apartment door behind her and listened. All was quiet. She balanced the bag of groceries on her hip and walked into the kitchen.

"Clark?"

No answer. He wasn't home yet. Thank God, she thought, setting the bag on the counter. Out came the ordinary groceries: the milk, the eggs, the various fruits and veggies she'd bought in a valiant attempt to start eating healthy. She crammed them into the fridge and then snatched up the last little box at the bottom of the bag.

Her heart pounded like it was trying to burst out of her chest. She turned the box over in her hands, read the directions. They were simple enough. All she had to do was get it over with.

Come on, Lane. It's not like you're testing yourself for some life-threatening disease.

Her practical side had kicked in and Lois found herself very thankful for the scathing little voice. She took a breath, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and walked to the bathroom.

She got it done as fast as she could, worried Clark might come into the flat at any second. The past couple of weeks had been good to him: he'd put out several good articles and managed to prove that Kal-El was willing as ever to lend a helping hand, regardless of any mysterious threats. His bruise had healed. Luthor hadn't targeted him again. For all Clark knew, life was looking up.

Which was why she needed time to prepare herself for a confession she might have to make.

But then again, this might all be in my head, she thought as she washed her shaking hands. I might be wrong about this whole thing.

Lois snatched up the test from the countertop and held it to the light. There was the result, right there in her face.

It was an unequivocal Positive.

Lois leaned her arms against the sink, trying to steady herself. She suddenly wanted to throw up―like she'd done in the bull-pen restroom just this morning. The nausea, the exhaustion, the strange irritability that, she knew, had bewildered poor Clark for the past few days―it all made sense now.

It hadn't been nerves, it hadn't been the stomach flu, it hadn't been PMS.

I'm pregnant.

Lois lifted her head with a start, the color flooding back into her pale face. It didn't matter if she was human and he wasn't. His fears were wrong. Their love could make a baby. A shaky smile broke out over her face and she let out a giddy laugh that echoed off the bathroom walls.

But then cold reality hit. So they were capable. Hurrah. But this wasn't supposed to happen right now. No trying to have a baby until they weren't in constant fear of discovery. They'd agreed to that before the wedding and planned―and acted―accordingly.

Except their "natural family planning" must've run off the rails somewhere about four weeks ago. Oops.

Which meant she'd been at least a couple weeks pregnant when Clark was attacked.

If his identity was discovered and they had to go into hiding, they couldn't be burdened with a baby. Yet even if his true identity remained secret, all eyes would turn to Superman the minute the world knew Lois Lane was expecting.

And if Luthor's schemes ever succeeded . . . if Clark died . . . she'd be left alone with a half-human baby to raise alone.

The thought was blood-curdling. Lois shuddered and covered her face with her hands.

Clark had to meet with Perry White at the Planet office before he headed to Lois' flat; hence his arriving home a little after nine o'clock, an hour or so later than normal. When he slipped into the alley and glanced up at the bedroom window, he was surprised to find it dark. Frowning, he slung his laptop bag over his shoulder and thrust himself lightly off the ground.

His surprise increased when he found the window unlocked and the pane slightly up―a sure sign that Lois had already gone to bed. That was odd. It was only nine o'clock; usually she was still working on tomorrow's scheduled article, or following up on some lead with a series of phone calls.

She must be feeling wiped out again, he thought as he pushed the pane up, set his laptop down inside, and forced his broad frame through the opening. By the light of the muted but operating TV he could tell that she was curled up in bed, on her side and with her back to the window. He turned off the television. She didn't stir.

Clark went to her side of the bed and turned on the lamp on her nightstand so he could see her clearly. In the soft, warm light she looked peaceful―pale, but peaceful―with one hand tucked underneath her pillow and the other resting limp on the mattress. Her hair was strewn about. She looked beautiful.

He reached out and touched her cheek. It was enough to rouse her. Lois drew in a breath and turned her head, her eyes fluttering open.

"Hey," he whispered, rubbing her arm. "It's just me."

"What time is it?" she asked hoarsely.

"Nine-thirty." He stroked back her hair from her forehead. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah," Lois said, but with a half-heartedness that immediately made him suspicious. Clark frowned, but she only gave him a sleepy smile and reached for his hand. He gave it to her.

"Supper's in the fridge," she murmured.

"Thanks. I'll come to bed in a while, I've still got a little work to do."

Lois nodded, her eyes more focused now as she gazed up at him. There was some expression there that he couldn't quite identify . . . apprehension, maybe. Clark leaned over her and kissed her gently, assessing her reaction to it. Her response was subdued, but that could be chalked up to drowsiness. When he pulled back, that odd look was still there.

"You're sure you're all right?" he asked.

She squeezed the hand she still held and nodded. Whatever was bothering her, she didn't care to tell him about it right now. He kissed her hand and headed downstairs, concerned but sure he'd know more in the morning.

He was getting dressed the next morning when a strange, guttural sound from the bedroom startled him. Clark paused, listened, then threw open the bathroom door in alarm.

He knew that sound; he'd heard his parents do it one summer when he was fifteen. Immune to germs, he'd watched helplessly while Mom and Dad battled a twenty-four-hour stomach flu. It had turned his own stomach, but for him it was only a reaction to the sight, sound, and smell. Not the actual thing.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on!" he cried, reaching Lois in two long strides. She was retching into the little trashcan she kept on her side of the bed, coughing and gagging between the spasms. Clark held his breath and pulled her hair back from her face.

When she finally lifted her head, she was shaking. He quickly moved the trashcan away from her and helped her to her feet; Lois moaned, slumped against him, but let him take her into the bathroom where he cleaned her face and helped her into new clothes. Neither of them spoke. Clark figured she didn't feel well enough to have a conversation, but he noticed, too, that she hardly looked at him.

"Feel better?" he asked as she put away her toothbrush.

"Yeah, I think so," she said, clearing her throat. "I don't think I'm going to work today . . ."

"I wouldn't let you, even if you wanted to. Come on, I'll take you downstairs."

Before she could protest, he scooped her up and carried her into the living room. A grateful smile crossed her pale face, and she made no protest when he set her down on the couch.

"Was it your dad who taught you to treat women like queens?" she asked, gently teasing.

"He taught me to be a gentleman, if that's what you're asking."

"Even when they're puking their guts out?"

"Especially then. How are you feeling now?"

"Better." She looked it; a bit of color had returned to her cheeks. He touched her forehead.

"No fever. Are you in any pain?"

Lois shook her head. "Stay with me a minute, Clark. I . . . I need to tell you something."

Surprised, he obeyed and sat down on the couch beside her, wrapping an arm around her. Lois dropped her head on his shoulder and clasped her hands tightly together.

"Do you remember," she began quietly, "when you left me on that fire escape out there, the day of the battle? I begged you not to forget me . . . "

"And I told you there'd be no forgetting you after our first kiss." He leaned back so he could look at her. "That smart little comment you made about it all going downhill after the first kiss hasn't applied to us yet, by the way."

Lois smiled faintly at him. "Do you remember when you first told me you loved me, while we were watching the Kelseys and the Morgensens have their fireworks war? You begged me to never leave you, and I told you I never would. Remember?"

Puzzled now but willing to follow her train of thought, he nodded again. "I remember."

"And then the day you asked me to marry you, I told you again I'd never, ever leave you."

"Right."

Lois lowered her eyes again and reached for his hand. "You mean everything to me. I'll keep your secret as best as I can for the rest of my life. I'll die to keep that secret―"

"What are you getting at?" Clark asked, not liking the direction this conversation was taking. The idea of Lois dying to keep his secret made him ache with the same pain he'd felt watching Jonathan Kent disappear into the tornado.

I won't let another person die for me, and definitely not Lois. I'll die first.

"I'm trying to tell you," Lois said slowly, her voice barely above a whisper, "that we've made a terrible mistake . . . and it might put you in danger."

He gave a start. Lois' grip on his hand tightened.

"Lex Luthor knows nothing and neither does my mom," she said quickly. "Only I know about it―but if we don't move fast the whole world will know―and yet it's not completely bad―"

"Tell me," Clark said firmly.

Lois swallowed hard. Her grip on his hand was like a vice now. "I took a pregnancy test last night . . . before you got home . . . and it was positive."

He stared at her, his mouth open. Lois brought her free hand to her face and sucked in a harsh breath.

"It explains why I've felt so puny since the day you were attacked," she whispered. "I thought it was all just nerves until yesterday, when I lost my breakfast at work. I couldn't tell you last night. I was too . . . afraid."

Clark felt too numb to ask her why the heck she'd be afraid. That long-ago moment when he learned he wasn't from this world at all flashed through his mind. He wasn't human . . . he'd never be human . . . he'd always be a freak. That self-hatred faded the moment Jor-El gave him his suit and he first tested his limits, and hope for a halfway-normal life flared high when he married Lois.

But this . . . this was different.

"You're―we―you and I―" he stammered.

Lois lifted her head and looked hesitantly at him. Her half-worried, half-hopeful expression did him in. He grabbed her face in both hands and kissed her long and hard, completely forgetting she was still a little peaked after her episode in the bedroom and probably not much in the mood for such things. When he pulled back she drew a shaky breath and blinked back tears.

"You're not angry," she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

"I'm not angry," he whispered back. "I'm anything but. Look at me, Lois."

She swallowed and forced herself to obey. Clark rubbed her cheeks gently with his thumbs.

"You've given me both of the gifts I never thought I'd have," he said. "I could never be angry about that. Ever."

"But the secret―"

"We'll work it out. We always do." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "But I don't want to think about that right now. I want to enjoy the fact that there's a new life inside you."

" 'Enjoy' it?" she repeated, managing a wry look through her tears. "Even when I'm kneeling before the porcelain god?"

He grinned. "I'll hold your hair back again, if that makes you feel any better."

She laughed and kissed his cheek. "Well, seeing as how you're the one who got me into this mess, it's the least you can do, isn't it?"

Lois knew as soon as she and Clark walked into the bull-pen together that everyone had noticed. Lombard glanced up from his laptop and did a double-take. Lois shot him a steady, half-defiant look. It wasn't like they were holding hands. She almost resented people making assumptions on the fly like that.

This was the plan though, at least here in the bull-pen among the people they saw every day. Those who knew them best needed to know now that the reporter and the stringer were definitely on good terms, even romantic terms.

And for now, that was all they needed to know.

"I'll be with you in a minute, Jen," Lois said, picking up her pace so she was a few strides ahead of Clark. "Gotta have a short powwow with Perry first."

"Umm, okay," Jenny said, wide-eyed. Curioser and curioser: no one had ever seen Clark Kent and Lois Lane going into Perry's office together.

Lois knocked on the door and let herself in without waiting for a response, then shut the door behind herself and Clark. Perry was at his desk, as usual, and glanced up at them over the tops of his glasses. A half-irritated, half-amused look crossed his face and he took his glasses off.

"Oh boy," he said.

"What do you mean, 'oh boy?' " Lois asked.

Perry raised his eyebrows. "If you two come into my office at the same time, I know something's about to rock my world."

Lois glanced at Clark. Without skipping a beat, he approached Perry's desk and sat down in the chair opposite him. Then he took off his glasses. Lois thought it an interesting move. Perry did, too, judging by the lessening of the irritation in his expression and his leaning forward in his own chair.

"You, my mother, and a few friends of mine in Kansas are the only people on this planet who know about me and Lois," Clark began quietly. "You've earned my trust and I'm honored to have yours."

Perry's brows furrowed and he said nothing.

"You're also one of the few who knows for sure that I suspect Lex Luthor was the one who targeted me a couple weeks ago," Clark went on, his voice so steady it was almost monotone. "He's left me alone since the memorial service, but that doesn't mean he's given up. I'm still in considerable danger of an unexpected attack from a weapon I still can't identify."

Perry nodded, concentrating. Lois held her breath. You're taking an awfully long time to get to the point, aren't you, Clark?

"I have a lot of attention focused in my direction," Clark said. "And by extension, there's a lot of scrutiny on Lois, too. Your keeping her away from me when I collapsed was very helpful, but she still had reporters knocking on her door that day. Our connection is still fodder for the papers and every news site on the Internet."

"Which was why you've kept your real relationship under wraps for so long. Heck, Kent, I know all this. Why are you repeating it to me?"

"Because I need you to understand the complexity of our situation . . . and the gravity of it."

"I do understand it."

"Not the latest complication, you don't," Lois said.

Both of them looked at her, Clark with expectancy and Perry with surprise. Lois pulled up an extra chair and sat down beside Clark, folded her hands on her knees, and looked her editor in the eye.

"You know how some high-profile journalists take hiatus sometimes?" she asked.

Perry's frown deepened, if that was possible. "Yeah, but you have to take that kind of move to the publishers. You're the most popular reporter on the Planet staff, Lane. They won't like you leaving."

"It would only be temporary," Lois said quietly. "I'll even submit work via email so I won't be completely absent―but I need a hiatus, and you'll have to convince Morrison and Company to let me have it. They don't need the publicity of their prize reporter's . . . unexpected pregnancy."

She winced as she spoke the last two words, half-afraid of his response. Perry stared at her, unflinching, for a long moment; then his grey eyes shot to Clark. He tapped his glasses lightly against his desk.

"Heavy emphasis on the word 'unexpected,' Perry," Lois added.

"Humph," Perry snorted. "Married life is a barrel full of monkeys, isn't it?"

Lois felt herself go red in the face and Clark smirked. Perry continued tapping his glasses on the surface of his desk, looking from one to the other and thinking.

"God knows I don't need to deal with that kind of publicity," he muttered. "I got my fair share of international scrutiny when you two saved the world from a bunch of psychotic tyrants. But I don't see how you're gonna fend it off this time."

Clark leaned forward. "We can at least keep our secret long enough to turn the tables on the press―and those who might try to use my family to strong-arm me. Here's the plan. Lois gets her hiatus. She goes and lives with my mother until the baby is born―"

"When are you due?" Perry interrupted.

"June, I think," Lois said.

"―while I stay here in Metropolis to keep up normal appearances on my end," Clark went on. "Lois can submit work long-distance so her position remains secure, but her location will remain a secret."

"And when the baby's born?" Perry prodded. "What then?"

Clark drew a deep breath. "Lois and the baby will return to Metropolis and we won't be able to hide it. But rather than allow the press to have a hey-day with it, we'll strike at them first. We'll explain we kept everything hidden precisely because Lois wanted to avoid the publicity she's felt ever since the battle. We'll emphasize that she and I―the stringer, not the alien―are married and are eager to fight back against paparazzi tactics. Who knows―" and here he smiled with more than a hint of mischievous satisfaction "―even Superman may have a word or two to say in defense of Miss Lane and her husband."

Perry nodded, impressed. "So you'll end up making the press look like fools, you'll insulate Superman and allow yourself to live openly as a couple . . ."

"And we'll protect our child," Clark finished. "That's just as important to me as preserving my own identity."

Perry nodded again, sat back in his chair. "You haven't said much, Lois."

Lois glanced up from her lap and forced a smile. "There's not much to say."

His face softened ever so slightly. "How's it feel?"

She laughed a little shakily. "Weird. Bet you never thought I was mothering material."

Perry gave her a incredulous look that made her laugh again. He pushed his chair back from the desk.

"All right. I'll see what I can wheedle out of the publishers. How long do you need?"

Lois thought swiftly. "If I start my hiatus at Christmas vacation, I can be back in July."

"July?" Perry asked, scornful. "Make it August. If I know you, it'll take you that long to learn how to change a dirty diaper."

I always knew Clark and Lois would have a baby in this story (this is the prequel to Claire Kent's story, after all), but the longer I thought about it the more I realized what a joyous occasion it would be for Clark to find out they were expecting. If he spent so many years as an outcast, distancing himself from everybody and no one really accepting him, how would it be for him to realize that his wife, the woman he loves, is carrying his child?

And now excuse me, I think I have a little dust in my eye...

Oh, and a quick shout-out to Pergjithshme, for helping me figure out how to change hyphens to dashes in my word processing program, thus making my work easier to read for everyone else. Thank you again!