A/N: I've been working on this one for a while (I originally wanted it to be the third or fourth posted) and though I'm still not completely pleased with it, I think I have to wash my hands and let it go. So here it is.
Her period is a full two weeks late before she works up enough courage one Friday afternoon after work to drive the almost forty-five minutes to the other, much seedier side of Metropolis to procure the pregnancy test she never thought she'd need. It isn't the first time she's ever been late—there was that one time senior year of high school that she doesn't like to talk about—but it is the first time she's been late since she started sleeping with Clark and she is more than a little terrified of what this could mean.
They've always been so careful because it hasn't even been two years since Clark left the Blur in the shadows and stepped into the light as Superman. And there are their careers to consider and they still haven't found the time to get married. There are a million reasons she could list that make having a baby a terrible idea right now. That's why there's a jumbo box of Trojans in his nightstand and she keeps an emergency stash in her desk at the Planet and a few extras in her purse. And they've always been so careful.
But there was that night in Smallville last month when she'd finally had her porch swing fantasy fulfilled. It had been so romantic, so perfect that when Clark had tried to run inside, she grabbed his arm and told him she couldn't stand to be away from him for even the millisecond it would have taken. Just this once, she pleaded, it didn't matter. What are the odds that one time could change things so much?
He hadn't protested at all. She knows he only wears the condoms because she insists—he's made up his mind that his alien DNA is incompatible with hers—but he can't hide the hope that sparks in his eyes every time he plays with Jonathan. That light is what makes Lois believe that maybe one day, after she's won her Pulitzer, after he's basically eradicated all the evil in Metropolis, after they're properly married and ready, she can give him the children he desperately wants.
Clark could slip into his role as father effortlessly because he had the best parents in the world, but he's resigned himself to the fact that he'll never have the opportunity. The fact that she may finally be able to prove him wrong on this one should thrill her, but she's scared to death because the only thing she knows about parenting is how to raise her younger sister on Army bases with a dead mother and an absent father. She isn't ready to be a mother. Not by a long shot.
Lois parks in a spot right in front of the drug store and sighs. "Get it together, Lane," she whispers to her reflection. Then, because it's imperative that no one recognize her, even on the other side of the city, she tucks her hair under a black silk scarf and hides her eyes under a giant pair of wraparound sunglasses. Confident in her disguise, she strides into the store and fills a shopping basket with a six-pack of Clark's favorite beer, a bag of Cheetos, three candy bars, and the pregnancy test with the highest reviews according to Google and the half-dozen or so websites she perused on her lunch break.
She pays the balding man running the register in cash because she doesn't want to leave a paper trail, and accepts her change with a curt nod and tight smile. Then she forces herself to walk slowly back to her car, but she can't stop from collapsing into the seat as soon as she tosses the plastic bags—through which she can still see the obnoxiously pink box, she notes with annoyance—into the backseat. After locking the doors and fastening her seatbelt, Lois leans her head back against the seat and draws in a few deep, controlled breaths. Buying the damn thing was the hard part; peeing on it will be no problem.
Her phone vibrates loudly in the cup holder and she jumps. She slides her thumb across the screen to answer when she sees Clark's name and a picture of the two of them taken last Christmas.
"Hey!" She infuses as much cheer as she can into her voice.
"Are you going to be home soon?" he asks with a laugh. "I have a surprise for you."
"Yeah, I'm on my way." Lois chews her thumbnail nervously, trying to think up a believable cover story. "Sorry I'm late. I was chasing a lead." Vague is always best, she believes, and then sends up a silent prayer that he can't tell how badly she's lying.
"Oh… Well, that's what I get for ducking out early to stop a bank robbery. Anything good?"
"No… Nothing at all." She eyes the bright pink of the box as she twists the key in the ignition. "It's a dead end."
She hasn't really thought this through. Actually, that isn't true—she's thought about it, but most of her plans about sneaking the test into the apartment involve Clark gone on a life-saving mission. As luck would have it, however, there seems to be a lack of crime this evening. Good for Clark, great for Metropolis, but absolutely a worst-case scenario for Lois.
After much trial and a whole lot more error, she decides that sneaking the damn thing in is impossible. She sure as hell can't just carry it in. Clark won't x-ray her work bag, but it's full to bursting already with notes and files from the stories she's working on. She hadn't even worn a coat today because despite the steady drizzle, it's unseasonably warm for late February. So with a sigh, she tosses the box into the back floorboard and covers it with a few ever-present extra editions of the Planet. Tonight, after Clark leaves on his nightly rounds, she'll sneak back down to the parking garage, retrieve it, and find something to do with it until she gets brave enough to pee on the damn thing. Or, if her period decides to make an appearance first, she could always return it.
Other bags in hand, Lois locks the car behind her, walks quickly to the apartment building, and ascends the stairs. She's just fit her key into the lock when the knob turns in her hand and the door opens, knocking her off-balance. Luckily, Clark is there to catch her, one hand behind her neck, one strong arm around her waist.
It never ceases to take her breath away when he does stuff like that.
"Hi," he says softly and grins widely as he sets her back on her feet and takes the drug store bag from her.
"Hi." She can't help but smile back at him and close her eyes when his lips meet hers.
Then someone clears their throat from behind him and Lois pushes him away because she would recognize that sound anywhere.
"Chloe!" She rushes to her cousin and envelops the petite blonde and her infant son in a tight bear hug. She then turns her attention solely to her godson. "Hi, Jonathan!" The baby coos attentively and his blue eyes widen. "Are you talking yet? Maybe Aunt Lois can teach you some Whitesnake lyrics while you're here."
Chloe laughs. "Lois, he's six months old."
"Oh, you're never too young for Whitesnake."
"I hate to interrupt," Clark says from the door, "but since Lois brought beer home, what do you say we order pizza and catch up? I'm starving."
Chloe moans enthusiastically. "God, yes! I have been dreaming of Metropolis pizza for weeks!" She wanders off, chattering about how the pizza in Star City just isn't the same and Clark takes Lois into his arms and kisses her.
"Surprise."
It's a little like fate, Lois decides. After Clark, Chloe is the person she trusts the most in the entire world and it might be nice to have someone hold her hand while she's waiting for those minutes to tick off the clock and seal her destiny. But Clark has to be gone first, and Lois isn't quite sure how to manage that without seeming rude.
"So, Oliver's gone to this leadership summit all week and I had some vacation days saved up, so I thought we'd visit," Chloe explains over her third slice of pizza and second beer. "Jonathan and I needed some Aunt Lois and Uncle Clark time."
Jonathan gurgles happily in Clark's lap and reaches a chubby fist for his glasses. Lois feels her stomach seize. This could be their life in a few months…
She sips her water slowly. Clark had tried to get her to take a beer—she loves the bitter IPA as much as he does—but she'd made up some lame excuse about not feeling like drinking tonight. Truth be told, she'd like nothing more than to gulp down the entire six-pack and a fifth of vodka… But if she is carrying Clark's half-alien child, she has to play it safe, even if she is almost one hundred percent sure their baby would inherit its father's alcohol tolerance.
Clark's eyes narrow and he tilts his head to the side, a sure sign he's picking up on an alarm that neither Lois nor Chloe can hear. Silently, Lois takes the baby from Clark's arms and he shoots her a grateful smile as he stands and begins to tug at his t-shirt.
"I'm so sorry, Chloe," he says, pulling his glasses from his nose and tossing them on the table.
She waves off his apology. "Go do your thing. I'm here all weekend."
He leans close to Lois and kisses her softly.
"Be safe," she murmurs, the dread she feels whenever he heads out settling in her already knotted gut.
"It's a subway fire in London," he explains quickly. "Probably an all-night thing."
She nods. She'll miss him, of course. Miss him next to her in bed, miss his light snores and the way he wakes her on Saturday mornings with coffee and the Planet and sometimes a bout of slow, lazy lovemaking. She always misses him, but tonight she's almost grateful that there are people who need him more than she does.
At least she has Chloe and Jonathan and that stupid pink box to distract her.
"Just come home," she tells him before kissing him solidly once more and catching his jeans and loafers as he leaps out the window.
Jonathan begins fussing in her arms and she holds him aloft towards his mother. Yet another reason she isn't ready for kids—sometimes they cry and you can't pawn them off on someone else when they're yours.
"I know…" Chloe mutters softly to her son as she hoists him to her shoulder and rifles through bags in search of a bottle.
Lois watches in amazement as her cousin one-handedly fishes a bottle from the depths of a diaper bag, unscrews the cap, and fills it with water from the tap. Then Chloe replaces the cap, shakes the bottle to mix the formula, and pops it in the microwave.
"Wow…" Lois says, seriously impressed by how naturally Chloe has taken to motherhood.
"It has to be body temperature or he won't take it," Chloe explains sheepishly. "That's what I get for breastfeeding. I hate even using formula, but I really wanted to drink this weekend." Warmed bottle in hand, she returns to the table, shakes out a few drops onto her arm, and situates the baby and his bottle in her arms. Pleased with the way he's eating, she takes a long drink of beer. "Of course, I didn't think I'd be drinking alone…"
Lois shrugs. "Sorry. I told you, I just…"
"Wasn't feeling it," her cousin supplies. "Yeah, I remember."
They move on, discussing Lois's current projects at the Planet and Chloe's at the Register, while Jonathan slurps from his bottle and gazes at Lois with big, sleepy blue eyes. Lois watches her cousin burp and rock her son to sleep with admiration, but what really makes her heart rise into her throat, is when Chloe buries her nose in Jonathan's neck and inhales deeply.
"He just smells so good," Chloe says with a shrug at Lois's questioning gaze. "No matter if he's sick or fussy or sleeping, he always smells the same right there."
"Chlo, do you like being a mother?" Lois blurts before she can stop herself. There's so much uncertainty, so much doubt spiraling in her head that she has to ask someone.
Chloe considers the question as she stands and places Jonathan in his pack-and-play. She carefully arranges the blankets around her sleeping child and presses one last kiss to his head before slowly standing and rubbing her hands on her jeans.
"I'm not sure that's the right question." She sighs and walks purposefully to the fridge for another beer. She tilts the bottle toward Lois, who shakes her head, and shrugs, twisting the cap off and taking a long drink as she settles back into her seat at the table.
"I love my son more than anything else in the entire world," Chloe continues. "I love that when he smiles he looks just like Ollie. I love that his eyes crinkle in the corners like my dad's. I love that I can look at him and see a physical, tangible representation of my love for Oliver. And I love knowing that by having him, I did something that will change the world; because he will, just by being in it. Does that answer your question?"
Lois shrugs noncommittally because it doesn't answer the question she most desperately needs answered, but no one can control that but her. It hits her suddenly: she has to tell Chloe. There's no way she can take that stupid test without someone there for emotional support.
"Lois, are you pregnant?" Chloe stares at her through narrowed eyes and she feels all her resolve melt away under her cousin's glare.
Lois licks her lips. "How did you—"
She shrugs. "You didn't drink at dinner, you're suddenly asking me questions about being a mom… I was an investigative reporter first, you know."
"I don't know." She picks at her thumbnail.
"What do you mean you don't know?" Chloe snorts. "It's kind of a yes or no thing."
Lois scrambles for the words. "I mean, I'm not sure. I'm late but… I haven't… I don't know."
Chloe nods. "Okay, well, how late are we talking about? A few days? A week? Give me some context and then we'll figure out where to go from there."
"Two," she says simply.
"Two days?" The blonde shakes her head. "Lo, that could be hormones. That could be stress, I mean two days is—"
"Not two days, Chlo. Two weeks."
"Oh." A heavy silence settles between the two of them and Chloe drains her beer bottle before she speaks again. "Okay. Well. Do you have a pregnancy test?"
"In the car," Lois mumbles around her decimated thumbnail. She tastes blood and knows from the pain that she's chewed down to the quick. "I wasn't sure how to get it past Clark. I don't want to tell him until I'm sure."
Chloe nods and begins to speak before she changes her mind and sits back in her chair. "I guess I never thought… I mean… I didn't know this was something that could happen for you guys…"
"We weren't sure," Lois says quietly, folding her bleeding thumb into her palm and squeezing tightly. "And we've always been really careful, just in case…" She shakes her head. "But there was this one time… God, I feel like an idiot now."
"You shouldn't. You don't know anything for sure yet." She presses the tips of her fingers together and chews her lip. "Okay. Here's what we're going to do: you're going to get the test out of the car and take it and then we'll know for sure."
Chloe is so even-keeled, so level-headed about the whole thing, and Lois is immensely and suddenly grateful for her surprise visit. There's no way she could have done this all on her own. Out of instinct, and because she's so relieved that she doesn't have to do this alone, she jumps up and grabs her cousin into a tight hug.
Then with a small smile, Lois grabs her keys off the counter and strides quickly to the parking garage.
"Have you talked about it?" Chloe asks as they sit perched on the edge of the bathtub, waiting for the timer to ding. "You and Clark. Have you talked about having kids?"
Lois shrugs. "In the abstract. 'Someday after I win a Pulitzer;' 'one day when no one's actively trying to kill us…' And once, right after Jonathan was born, about if we even could… But never seriously. I think he gave up, honestly."
And then, there's the niggling little voice in the back of her mind that reminds her just how ill-prepared she is for the possibility that she could become a mother.
"It would be so much easier," she continues, her voice barely a whisper because she hates herself for feeling this way at all. "It would almost be easier if we couldn't have kids of our own, because then I wouldn't have to feel guilty for holding back because I'm scared."
Chloe studies her shoes and taps her foot lightly on the floor.
"I love Clark," Lois continues, desperate to make her understand. "And I'd do anything for him, but… I don't know if I can do this. I don't know if I have what it takes to be a mother. I mean, I barely remember mine. And, God, what if something happens to me? What if I get cancer and die and leave Clark alone with our kids?"
A moment of heavy silence passes between them before Chloe finally lets out a sigh. "I didn't mean to get pregnant when I did. Trust me, no one was more surprised than I was. I was terrified to tell Oliver. We hadn't ever discussed it. The thought hadn't even occurred to us because we were always really careful. But one night, everything was just so perfect that neither one of us thought about it. Three weeks later, my period was late.
"You asked me earlier if I liked being a mother…" She laughs a little and swipes at her eyes. "It's the hardest thing I've ever done, but it's also taught me the most. I think that God or fate or whatever's out there sends us what we need and not what we want." She grips Lois's hand tightly. "And I've seen you and Clark with Jonathan and, for what it's worth, I think you'd both make incredible parents."
She looks up, willing the heavy tears that tremble in her eyes to stay put, and sniffs. "But don't you ever get scared?"
"All the time." Chloe laughs and the egg timer on the counter rings loudly. Lois feels her heart beating so rapidly that she's surprised it hasn't leapt through her chest.
Chloe offers her a half smile and nods toward the counter. "I think it's done."
Lois nods and pushes herself to her feet slowly. There can't be more than four feet between the bathtub and the counter, but as Lois walks quietly over, it might as well be four miles. She turns back to Chloe before she can glimpse at the test.
"Chlo, what if I am pregnant?" she mutters. "What do I do?"
"Well, first you tell Clark," Chloe says simply, "and then you go from there."
"And what if I'm not?"
Chloe shrugs. "You tell Clark and you go from there."
Lois takes in a deep breath and looks down at the plastic stick on the counter. Her heart jumps, her stomach twists, and she grips the counter tightly. With a trembling hand, she lifts the test.
Clark returns from London early the next morning, covered head to toe in soot and smelling like the inside of a chimney. He's quiet as he moves around their bedroom gathering a change of clothes, but it doesn't matter. Lois hasn't slept at all since she hugged Chloe goodnight and left her snoozing on the couch. Instead, she's spent the night tossing and turning in their bed, trying to figure out how to best bring up the test, and gnawing her fingernails down one by one.
She lies still in the dark, listening to the muffled sound of his shower. She's learned to deduce a lot from listening to him when he returns. He's singing softly, so that usually means there were very few—if any—deaths, and the shower runs for only ten minutes, which typically means he had a good save. His showers lengthen with severity of accidents, like he feels the need to wash away the guilt from all the lives he couldn't save.
The bed dips as he slides in beside her. He wraps his arms around her waist and she can smell the soap and feel the heat that radiates from his skin. "I'm sorry," he mutters. "I woke you."
"Nope." She turns onto her side to face him. "I couldn't sleep."
"Well," he continues. "I got everyone out of that subway with zero casualties."
"I'm so proud of you." She tries her hardest to sound completely normal, but Clark has always been able to see through even her most clever disguise, and there's no mistaking the catch in her voice as her throat closes from the tears that well up.
He reaches over to the nightstand and flicks on the lamp. "What's wrong?"
Lois rubs her hands over her eyes. "It's nothing. You should sleep. You have to be exhausted."
"I can sleep later…" He studies her. "What's wrong?"
There's absolutely no point in arguing with him because he won't let it go until she tells him everything. Truth be told, she hadn't pictured having this conversation with him at five o'clock in the morning while her cousin and godson sleep a few feet away, but he just looks so tired, and the dark circles under Clark's eyes won't go away until he's had at least eight hours of sleep.
She sighs, sits up against the headboard, and clasps her hands together on top of the comforter. "You probably didn't notice, but my period has been mysteriously absent for a few weeks… So while you were gone to London, I, um…" She swallows hard. "I took a pregnancy test…" She wants to look at him, to see in his eyes exactly what he's feeling, but she can't force herself to tear her gaze away from her ragged fingernails.
"And?" He gulps and tightens his grip on the pillow in his hands. Because even though he's practically convinced himself that they can never have children, even though this shouldn't be news to them, not even Clark can stop that tiny seedling of hope from springing forth from the possibility. She hates herself even more.
"And…" Lois draws in a deep breath through her nose and exhales it slowly. "I'm not pregnant."
"Oh." He lets out a shuddering breath and collapses against the headboard. "Well. I mean, you never really wanted kids anyway. And I always thought that we probably couldn't…"
"I'm not convinced that's true, but…" She stops herself midsentence and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.
"Well, thanks for telling me." Clark reaches to the nightstand and turns the lamp off, bathing them both in darkness. Then he flips onto his side, away from her, bunches his pillow into a ball and tries to make himself comfortable.
"But I talked to Chloe," Lois says into the darkness, knowing full well that he's listening even though he's pretending not to. "And I realized that I do want kids someday." He shifts slightly. "Not this year, maybe not even for ten or so, but… Someday we are going to make a baby together and your mother's going to spoil it rotten and we're both going to pretend that it pisses us off, but really we'll just both be grateful that she has a grandchild to spoil."
The tears come with no relief now and Clark's strong arms wrap around and pull her into his lap before she even realizes she's crying.
The disappointment at the test results had surprised her immensely. She'd expected to feel some relief at the single pink line, but instead she'd just felt empty. Like someone had tugged a piece of her heart out with no warning and that's when she knew exactly what she wanted.
She wants a physical representation that she and Clark are one. She wants to hold their child in her arms and tousle his dark, unruly hair, and kiss his sticky, dirty cheeks, and watch Mrs. Kent bake batch after batch of chocolate chip cookies, and sit with Clark on the porch and watch him run through the fields after Shelby.
She wants a piece of herself to live on.
"I don't care what we have to do, how many tests Emil needs to run..." Clark brushes away a tear with the pad of his thumb. "If that's really what you want, I'll make it happen."
He kisses her then, soft and slow and sweet; a promise of everything to come.
Her period arrives the next morning, along with the worst cramps she's ever had in her life.
She decides that nothing sounds better than an afternoon on the couch with a heating pad, Chloe, and the most gigantic bag of dark chocolate Hershey Kisses Clark can find.
But as Chloe peruses her cousin's DVD collection, she stands and sighs emphatically. "Nothing. You have nothing that I'm in the mood for. Also, you probably need a gigantic, greasy cheeseburger from that diner downtown."
Clark reaches for his wallet. "I'll go."
"No, it's all right," Chloe says as she tugs her jacket over her shoulders. "Tell the truth, I've kind of been itching to walk around Metropolis by myself. You guys can watch the baby for a while, right? Thirty minutes, tops!" She wiggles her fingers over her shoulders as she steps through the door.
Lois picks at a string in the blanket. "Maybe he'll sleep the whole time?"
She really should know better than to tempt fate, because Jonathan lets out a high-pitched wail just as the words leave her lips. Clark is at his side in seconds and gently, so gently, he reaches down and scoops the fussing infant into his arms.
"Is it his diaper?" Lois searches frantically for the bag Chloe left behind. "I've never changed a diaper before, I mean, never by myself..."
Clark lifts the baby to his shoulder and shushes him. "Nah, I think he just wanted some attention." He lowers his voice and sings softly into the crook of Jonathan's neck.
Lois studies him. She's seen Clark do some amazing things in their ten-year friendship, but she's never seen him so relaxed, so comfortable. Her heart warms. "We can do this," she says softly, crossing the space between them and laying a hand over Clark's. "We really can."
He nods. "Someday."
"Someday," she agrees and rests her head on his shoulder, staring into the wonder-filled blue eyes of their godson.
A/N: Thanks so much!