AN: I hope this chapter helps relieve some of the tension from the last chapter. I really tried to do this as realistically as possible, given that I have been through this sort of thing twice myself! Many thanks to htbthomas and Hellish for all their corrections and support. And to van-el for helping me tap into the male side of things for this. You three rock and my fan fiction would suck without you!

Age 23 - Life

I've been told that the first year of marriage is the hardest. As much as I hoped that the old saying was a falsehood, unfortunately I found that it was very true. I hadn't thought that it would be, given that Kate and I had been together for two years before we were married. We even kind of lived together for a while, though it wasn't a legal arrangement. Her Dad would have killed her – and me - if we had officially moved in together. So, we each had our own apartment and our own roommates, but we each kept things like clothes and a toothbrush at each other's places. In all, I had pretty much spent two years of my life with Kate morning and night, so I figured that being married wouldn't be that much different. The one thing I didn't account for was the fact that we were no longer in school. We had entered the real world with real schedules and real jobs, and our two jobs didn't mesh well.

Kate had taken a position with a counseling service right out of school. She started part time until she could work up some clients and then went full time a few months later. She was good at her job, but she hoped to eventually have her own practice. She worked mostly daytime hours from eight in the morning until four in the evening, give or take an hour depending on the client's schedule.

I, on the other hand, worked a lot of evening hours. Such was the life of a musician. My performance at the contest earned me a position as an intern with the Metropolis Symphony Orchestra. I was responsible for helping catalogue music and making sure instruments were tuned, and I played for some rehearsals when their star pianist, Philip Bradford, was unable to attend. Basically, I was the low man on the totem pole, but that was all right with me. Although he was exceptionally talented, Bradford was conceited and I knew the Maestro was losing patience with him. It was only a matter of time before he would stick his foot in his mouth and be replaced. It was my hope that when that time came, I would be considered for some performances.

Yet, as it was, rehearsals were usually from noon until five on non-performance days. If there was a performance, we could be called in to rehearse for a few hours, depending on the piece, but generally we had to be in the building by seven for an eight o'clock curtain with the show ending around ten thirty and a reception following every opening and closing. That meant that for most of our first year, Kate and I played tag for dinner, meeting up in cheap restaurants or packing a dinner to take to the park. I wouldn't get home until midnight, and she would have to be up by six thirty. A lot of my weekends were shot for matinee performances too. For newlyweds, we really hardly ever saw each other.

Kate eventually ended up changing around some of her hours to start later in the day and opened up some slots in the evening for clients who worked full time and couldn't take time off to come in for an appointment. That allowed us to start actually seeing each other more often, and by the time we had our first anniversary, our schedules had fallen together rather well. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than what we'd had before while still allowing us to keep the careers that we wanted.

Then one day in July, out of the blue, the Maestro came to me and told me how he appreciated my hard work and thought it was time to put my talent to the test. The orchestra was going on tour in Europe for six weeks in the fall and he was in need of a second pianist to cover not only the rehearsals, but also a few performances. Bradford wasn't up to playing after some of the long train rides between locations and would be sitting out five of the twenty scheduled appearances. I was floored by the invitation and naturally accepted it with gratitude. Kate and I celebrated that evening by having a nice dinner and making love until we were too exhausted to move.

Being asked to go on tour meant that my own rehearsal time increased. I wasn't just a standby anymore. This was the real deal. I played over the pieces given me every chance I got. I'm sure Kate was sick of hearing the bouncy repetition of Mozart's Piano Concerto in E-flat. However, as a contrast and homage to music written in the same key, I was blessed with the opportunity to play one of my favorite pieces of music - Beethoven's Piano Concerto Number 5 in E-flat. I had once told her that I found it to be one of the sexiest pieces of music ever written. She agreed with me after she sat in on one of our rehearsals. The piece was simply gorgeous.

In early September, a little over a month before we were scheduled to leave for Europe, the orchestra opened a pop series featuring a guest vocalist well known for her work on Broadway. The reception that evening was going to be attended by some rather big names in the industry and I insisted that Kate come along with me knowing she would have a good time spotting the rich and famous.

We enjoyed ourselves, eating some exotic hors d'oeuvres and sipping champagne. The music was live and provided by a local jazz ensemble. Kate was stunning in her pale green cocktail gown that intensified the color of her eyes. Once or twice I noticed a few of the men sizing her up, but I would wrap my arms around her and hold her intimately so there was no question that she was my wife.

Wanting to make sure she had the best time possible, I escorted her onto the dance floor and tried my best to not step on her feet. I wasn't the best dancer, and we hadn't really danced since our wedding over a year ago, but I gave it my all. I whirled her around, letting her dress twirl out and then shape itself to her body. Spurred on by her bright smile and gentle laughter, I pulled her close and dipped her backwards. When she came up, she nearly collapsed onto the floor.

Instantly, I grabbed her and held her up. "Kate? Honey, what's wrong?"

Her head lobbed unsteadily for a moment and her eyes rolled back behind her lids. Her body was limp in my arms.

Panic stirred in my chest. "Kate? Kate!"

She found her footing and blinked up at me. "Whoa…" Her hands tightened on my arms as she tried to stand up straight. "I just… got a little woozy, I guess."

"Woozy? It seemed to me like you fainted."

"I'll be fine. Just give me a minute."

I didn't believe her. How could I with the way she was still clinging to me for support as her legs wobbled beneath her? "Wrong. You're not fine. I think the champagne has gone to your head." I wrapped my arms around her, securing her against my side and said, "Let's go home."

I led her through the crowd and outside where we waited for the valet to bring the car around. She was still unsteady, so I easily scooped her up and held her. She protested, insisting that she wasn't that bad, but I wouldn't hear it. Besides, it wasn't as if I was straining myself to hold her like this. However, when we arrived back at our apartment she wouldn't accept any help getting undressed and into bed.

"I told you, I'm fine," she repeated. "Do I look sick to you?"

She didn't – not anymore at least. But I could still feel the chill that had run through my body when she fainted, and I wasn't exactly ready to brush off the experience as just a random occurrence.

I called her three times the next day from work to check on her, which annoyed the living crap out of her. I knew this because she shouted it at me over the phone the last time I called. Yet, when I got home that evening, I found her sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea and looking oddly calm. She looked up at me, but didn't say anything.

"Hi," I said, tentatively. "What's going on?"

"Well, I've been thinking, and we need to talk."

The words "I've been thinking" are three of the most dreaded words a man can hear from a woman. The only thing worse than "I've been thinking" is the phrase "We need to talk." Kate had just dished out both of them in one fell swoop. Whatever she needed to say, it could not be good.

"I think you should sit down," she said.

"No, I'm okay. What's up?"

She took a deep breath. "I think I'm pregnant."

I was wrong. "I think I'm pregnant" was even more frightening than "We need to talk." My legs crumbled under me as I slid down onto a chair. "Um… what?" was about all I could manage.

"I think I'm pregnant," she repeated. "You once told me that if I ever thought I might be pregnant – even for a fraction of a second – that you wanted to know. So, I'm telling you."

I blinked and tried to shake off the haze that had started to form around my brain. "Oh… well… why… do you think you're um… you're um… pregnant." Saying it myself was probably the most frightening thing of all.

"Well, as you have pointed out several times to me today, I fainted last night."

"That could have been the champagne," I countered.

"And I've been having these odd food repulsions. Like popcorn." She stuck out her tongue. "The idea of eating popcorn right now makes me want to vomit."

"So then, I guess going to the movies is out of the question," I teased.

"And my boobs are so sensitive."

I smirked. "Your breasts have always been sensitive."

"Not like this. When we made love the other night I thought I was going to go insane when you touched me."

My smirk grew into a full-fledged grin. "That doesn't mean you're pregnant. It just means I did what I was supposed to do for you."

"And I'm late."

The bottom fell out of my stomach. Considering that we were talking about womanly issues, I didn't need an explanation of what she meant by "late." "How late?" I asked.

She pulled her shoulders up. "More than a week."

I didn't have any response to that.

"But I've been late before," she added when she took in my dazed expression.

"You have?"

"Yes, so it could be nothing."

"When will we know if it's nothing or if it's… something?"

She smiled. "I bought a home pregnancy test – a pack of them really."

Now we were getting somewhere. "Okay, so what did it say?"

"Well, it was positive, but that doesn't really mean anything."

Positive was positive any way you sliced it. "Why not?"

"Because you're supposed to take them in the morning."

"Why?"

"I don't know. That's what the instructions say though."

I was confused. "So, we have to wait until morning to find out?"

"I guess."

I didn't like that. I didn't like it at all. Our evening was spent looking at each other sideways and having random bits of awkward conversations that all seemed rather pointless when you're sitting next to your wife who may be pregnant. Forget even trying to sleep, because having her body against mine was only a reminder that there might be a third party with us. It was one of the longest and most drawn out nights I'd ever lived through.

It wasn't that I was unhappy or angry. Far from it, actually. After the few times we'd spent around Kate's younger siblings, I'd come to enjoy the kids and started to really look forward to having a family of my own. But the reality of it was that any child of mine would be partially alien, and that meant putting Kate at risk to carry and deliver such a baby. I wasn't angry at all. Rather, I was terrified.

I awoke in the morning when I felt Kate slip out from under the covers. I waited anxiously as she headed into the bathroom and closed the door. A few very tense minutes later, she emerged holding a white stick in her hands. She bit her lips and held it out for me to see the bright blue plus sign.

"It's positive," she said softly.

"Meaning…" my heart nearly leapt out of my chest "… you're pregnant."

"No, not necessarily," she said to my surprise. "These tests aren't 100 accurate. It is just a home pregnancy test, not a real blood test or anything."

I sat up fully, "So, make an appointment with the doctor for a blood test."

"No, not yet. The pack came with four tests. Why don't I take all four tests and make sure that they all have the same result before I get my hopes up and head off to the doctor to get stuck with some awful needles."

I blinked in confusion. "You want to wait to find out if this is the real thing or not?"

"I want to wait," she nodded. "So don't say anything to anyone, okay?" She smiled brightly, kissed me quickly, and headed to the closet. "I have to get going into work early. I have a family coming in first thing, so I don't have much time to waste."

I watched her flit around the room as she got dressed, completely dumbfounded by her behavior and uncertain of how I should respond to it. I figured it was best to let her have it her way, since she was the one who was pregnant, and just do what she asked.

The next two mornings had similar routines, so much so that after the fourth test came back positive and Kate again insisted that it didn't mean anything, I took hold of her hands and pulled her back down onto the bed. She resisted, but let's face it, I was too strong for her to escape.

"Kate, listen to me," I said softly and with determination. "You're pregnant."

"Jason," she sighed, "it's too soon to say anything."

"Kate—"

"No, listen to me," she stood up. "I have known too many women who got their hopes up and then went to the doctor and found out that it wasn't going to happen. So I'm not going to celebrate until I know for certain. I'll make an appointment with a doctor and we'll go from there. Okay?"

She headed back into the bathroom and hopped into the shower. I, on the other hand, flopped back onto the bed, uncertain of my wife's current mental stability. But what could I say to her? I didn't have much experience around pregnant women. Maybe this kind of crazy behavior was normal. I resigned myself to just waiting it out to see where she went from here.

Thankfully, I didn't have long to wait. Kate went to the doctor the next day and had her blood work done. She somehow avoided all conversation about babies for the next twenty-four hours and, as I had promised myself, I followed her lead. No mention of even the possibility of her being pregnant was made. Still, when she curled up against me at night, I felt an unknown pull to keep my hand resting protectively over her abdomen.

At rehearsal the next day, a real sense of dread settled into my gut. Kate was pregnant, whether she allowed us to acknowledge it or not. She was pregnant, and I, as her husband, needed to be with her. As I practiced each piece assigned to me, I grew more and more disappointed. It was painfully obvious to me that I wouldn't be going on the tour next month. There was simply no way I was going to leave my wife while she was pregnant.

Thus determined, I came home late from rehearsal to find her sitting curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea. Hesitantly, I approached her and kissed her cheek. I'd been walking on eggshells since her announcement a week ago, and I didn't know how much longer I would—or could-- last.

"The doctor called," she said softly. "The results came back from my blood test."

Given the expression on her face, it couldn't have been good news. "Oh, Kate," I said, slumping down to comfort her, even though part of me was relieved that I wouldn't have to pull out of the tour.

"I'm pregnant," she said. Immediately her face lit up into a huge grin.

My breath hitched. "Really?'

"Really!" she laughed, and burst into a series of excited squeals and giggles that were so out of character for her. She flung her arms around me and squeezed me as tight as she could, repeating into my ear a very delighted, "Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!"

With a deep sigh, she pulled away from me… only to come right back in for a long, slow kiss. Her forehead rested against mine as I felt her body calm and relax into the moment.

"I told you so," I whispered.

She nodded.

In that moment, I knew I wouldn't be going to Europe. How could I? But I didn't tell Kate about my decision. Not yet. "Are you all right?" I asked instead, genuinely concerned over how she had been feeling for the last several days. Not being able to ask her about it had taken a bit of a toll on me.

"I've been a little queasy, and my boobs hurt, but other than that," she smiled brightly, "I feel great!" She hugged me again, laughing and displaying how totally ecstatic she was. All that emotion dropped though when she leaned back to look at my face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I tried to cover.

"Something's wrong. You aren't smiling."

"I'm smiling," I said, offering her the best smile I could manage.

She frowned at me, staring at me as if she was trying to read my mind. "You're not happy about this, are you?"

"I didn't say that," I stated quickly.

"You don't want children?"

"I didn't say that," I punctuated.

"You don't have to say it. I can see it in your eyes."

"Kate, I want children," I insisted.

She prompted me with a very serious, "But…?"

"But," I wet my lips, "the idea of it kind of… freaks me out a little."

"Why?"

"Because—" I looked at her beautiful face – the slight blush on her cheeks, the shine in her emerald eyes. "Because I don't want to lose you. Either of you," I added, my eyes darting down to her stomach. "When I was born—"

"You were sick," she interrupted. "I know, Jason. You've warned me about this. Your mother has even told me about it."

I was momentarily taken aback. "You talked to mom about this? She knows?"

"No, she doesn't know, but we have talked about the possibility of me getting pregnant someday. She told me all about the complications she had with her pregnancy and the difficulties you had when you were little. I don't know if she was trying to talk me out of pursuing having a baby or what, but I did learn a lot from her."

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that she blames herself for you asthma."

Now I was really surprised. "Why?"

"Because she smoked all the way through her first trimester. She didn't do it on purpose, really, but she didn't know she was pregnant."

I thought about it for a moment, stunned that I'd never considered that as an option for my asthma. I'd always blamed my poor mixture of Kryptonian and human DNA with every illness I'd ever had.

Kate went on with her explanation. "More than that, I have my own ideas about what caused you to be really sick growing up."

"And that would be…?"

"Medicine," she said simply.

"You mean the fact that nothing ever worked?"

"Meaning that you are partially Kryptonian and you were taking medication meant to cure a human. I think the more medicine you took, the harder your body fought against it, which only made you sicker. Does that make any sense?"

To my surprise, it did make sense to me. "Yes, but that doesn't mean that our baby won't have the same problems."

"It does if we don't give him all kinds of medicine that he probably doesn't need."

"How do you know he won't need it?"

"You don't take medicine anymore," she squinted at me. "What do you do when you feel ill or out of sorts?"

I blushed. "I stand in the sunlight."

A smile formed on her delicate mouth. "Maybe that's the only medicine you ever really needed, but since your mom didn't know that, she kept giving you the prescriptions in the hope that they would help you."

I considered it and said, "So your plan for the baby is to just rely on the sun to help him?"

She nodded. "But I know that the baby is only a quarter Kryptonian, so sunlight might not be enough. We'll just have play it by ear… just like every other set of parents on this planet." When I looked at her questioningly, she said, "Babies are born with medical problems all the time, Jason. You don't have to be partially Kryptonian to have complications like a messed up immune system or a heart arrhythmia."

"True," I agreed. "But it doesn't change the fact that I'm still scared."

She kissed me. "I'll be fine. We'll be fine," she corrected. "I'm just glad that you aren't upset with me for getting pregnant so unexpectedly."

"Hey, it takes two to tango."

She laughed and kissed me again. The kiss deepened and grew in intensity until both of our hearts were racing.

"Make love to me," she mumbled against my mouth. "Please…"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. You never have." Her hand slipped down my body suggestively.

I gasped and managed to say, "But you've never been pregnant before."

"Not true. We made love just before the reception that I fainted at and I was pregnant then, we just didn't know it."

I paused mid-kiss. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I'm sure," she smiled and resumed the kiss. "Oh, just be careful with my breasts."

"All right," I said, kissing her again.

"I mean, you can touch me, just be gentle."

I smiled and pulled her lips between mine.

"Not that you aren't gentle. I mean, you're usually very gentle—"

"Kate," I snapped.

"Yes?"

"Shut up," I said gently.

She laughed and eased back into the kiss.

A good while later, after we had spent off the passion between us, I carried Kate into the bedroom and curled my body up against hers protectively. My hand once again found a home covering her stomach as she snuggled deeper under the covers.

"You've slept with your hand over the baby for three nights now," she observed. "Did you know that?"

"Sorry. Does it bother you?"

"No, not at all. I just… find it interesting."

"I'm kind of new at this whole pregnancy thing, you know."

"That makes two of us," she agreed with a chuckle.

"I'm just feeling a little helpless, I suppose. There's not much I can do from here on out except protect you."

"Protect me?" she said, turning her head slightly to look at me.

"If anyone were to ever know who I really am, you and the baby would be in a lot of danger."

She pulled my arms tight around her. "No one will ever know."

"Not even your parents, Kate. The more people that know, the greater the chance that the secret will get out."

I expected her to snap at me, but she just smiled and said she understood. "Speaking of my parents," she said, "I don't want to tell them until after the ultrasound. I don't want to tell anyone really until then."

I groaned. "Oh no, are we back to that?"

She rolled over to look at me. "I want to see that the baby is all right. I want to see him with my own eyes before I start telling everyone. It's only a few days."

"Okay," I agreed reluctantly.

"I thought we might have them over for dinner. You don't have anything Monday night, do you? We could invite your parents, too."

I took a deep breath. "What about Clark?"

She made a face. "I hadn't thought about that. My parents don't know Clark is your real father."

"And I don't know how well Mom would take to having dinner with Clark right now." Mom's anger over the fact that Clark hadn't told her the truth about his identity for so long was still enflamed. It had lessened, but certainly not to the point where she would be happy spending an entire evening in his presence.

"Why don't you just let me talk to Clark," I suggested.

She agreed and snuggled against me more closely. "I can't believe this is really happening," she said.

"Me neither. It's such an unusual feeling."

"Knowing there's a baby here, you mean."

"Exactly." My hand brushed over her side.

"When you come back from Europe, I won't be able to snuggle like this. I'll be too round." She said it as a tease, but upon mention of my trip, my whole body stiffened… and not in a romantic way.

"I'm not going to Europe," I announced.

She sat up on her elbows. "What? Why not?"

"You're pregnant, Kate."

"So?"

"So, I'm not leaving you."

She scowled at me. "Are you kidding me?"

"No. Why would I kid about something like this?"

She sat up fully and huffed. "You're going to give up the biggest opportunity of your career and potentially ruin your future because I'm pregnant?"

Incensed, I sat up, too. "I'm not leaving you, Kate. You're more important to me than this tour."

"Jason, be reasonable."

"I am being very reasonable. You're pregnant and my place is with you."

"Why? To protect me?" she scoffed

"Among other things."

"Jason, I don't need to be protected. And if I do get into any trouble, I know who to call."

"Yes, you'll call me, because I'll be here for you every step of the way. I'm not going to miss out on anything."

"You won't miss out on anything, even if you do go!" she growled. "Look, I'm about seven weeks along. You leave in about a month and are only gong to be gone for six weeks. I won't even be…" she did the math in her head. "I'll be somewhere around twenty weeks when you come back. Twenty weeks! That's all!"

"It's not all."

"It's no big deal!"

I glared at her, "You don't think leaving your pregnant wife is a big deal?"

"For six weeks?"

I'd come to the end of my ability to reason with her and I snapped. "I am not leaving you! You are pregnant. I am your husband. And I am not leaving you! End of discussion!"

My temper had gotten the better of me and I knew it. Kate sat very still next to me and waited for me to calm down. Gently, she placed a hand on my leg.

"This doesn't have anything to do with you and me, does it?" she asked. "This is about your mom and Clark."

My head jerked around to look at her, for I couldn't deny the observation. "I made an agreement with myself a long time ago, long before we got married, that if ever you got pregnant, I would be here with you every step of the way."

"And you will be."

"Not if I go on this tour."

"It's six weeks – not five years. You'll be back in time for Thanksgiving and Christmas. You'll be here for the birth. We are married. You know I'm pregnant. You'll be able to call me and talk with me every day. This situation is so very different from what happened with your parents."

"Kate, don't ask me to leave you," I pleaded.

"I don't want you resenting the baby. I don't want you to look back in ten years or twenty years and say, 'If only we hadn't had a baby, I would have had a great career.'"

"You're assuming that I can't have a good career without going on this tour," I pointed out.

"I'm sure you'd be able to work something out, but you yourself have told me that being offered a tour like this is a huge deal! You told me that this was like your big break. And you have been looking forward to it for months now. There is no reason for you not to go."

"Kate—"

"I will be fine. If anything happens and I need help, I have a pretty reliable source I can go to. And we will talk every day. I'll send you pictures. Heck, maybe I can even come to see you."

My brows shot up. "Really? I was going to invite you to come to Paris while we were there. Do you think you could get away from work?"

She smiled. "I think it can be arranged. But I'm not going to Paris unless I get to hear you play that sexy Beethoven piece you go on about."

I didn't like the idea of leaving her at all. It was against everything I had in me, but she had made several valid points that I couldn't deny. "Are you sure about this?" I stressed. "Because I won't feel right about it unless you are completely sure."

"I'm sure. I'm very sure."

She kissed me and pulled me back to lie down. I wasn't completely sold on the idea, so it was impossible for me to relax. However, Kate was asleep in no time. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed combined with the soothing repetition of her heartbeat calmed my nerves. But it was the addition of the faint, almost imperceptible fluttering coming from deep within her that held my attention.

A few days later when I joined Kate for her first ultrasound, I discovered what the fluttering really was. It was a sound that my ear was now trained to hear – a sound so profound that it would forever link Kate and me together more than any marriage certificate ever could. It was a sound that brought me more joy than I ever anticipated feeling, regardless of the worry and fear that came with it. A sound that held me in place and sent me soaring at the same time. A sound that changed my life forever. A gentle sound that left me amazed by the complexity of its existence. All that from something as simple as a child's heartbeat.