-1Author's Note:
Once again I grovel at the feet of Saavikam who makes my grammar comprehensive. :) This ficlet is dedicated to her. Not that she makes me sick, just that...she deserves to have fics dedicated to her sometimes

There is a little inside joke toward the end which I hope you catch and enjoy.

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Morning Sickness

She half hiccuped, half burped as she glared at him from her vantage point on the floor beside the toilet. "You... did this to m-" Her breath escaped in a series of gasps before her head was once again partially hidden by the bowl of the commode.

Clark bit the inside of his lip. Lois had been pregnant a little over five months, and for the better part of those months, she'd had morning sickness unlike anything he'd ever seen.

In the beginning, he'd been allowed in the bathroom. She would lean against him as he stroked her back and wiped the sweat from her brow. On an occasion or two he'd even gotten a weak laugh from her.

These days, he was banished to pace the main hall of their apartment, unable to do anything but let her glare and rant at him in between retchings.

Lois's moan echoed off the tiles of the bathroom walls. She laid her cheek against her arm and closed her eyes. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her face was a mask of weary concentration as she looked within to gauge if this latest episode had ended.

It hadn't.

She groaned reflexively, her body taut and shuddering.

This was a first for Clark. There wasn't much he could to but be with her as she suffered on her own. Despite the drama of the situation, he was elated that morning sickness was the only complication of the pregnancy.

The doctor had said the mood swings would pass. His naïveté was sweet, really. Dr. Brightman hadn't spent much time with his wife, and he had kept his face carefully blank while Lois stared him down, daring Clark to contend with the diagnosis.

He'd proven to be a somewhat paranoid father-to-be, and Lois had capitalized on his tendency to fuss over her. Clark had lost count of the number of times he'd criss-crossed the globe to in order to satisfy one of her cravings. But he didn't mind in the slightest. He would soar over oceans and mountains with his bounty in hand, listening to the dual heartbeats singing to him from their home outside Metropolis.

He was completely enamored with the miracle of Lois bearing his child. A son, if his late night peeks into her belly could be believed. So he would be at her beckon call and do everything in his power to prevent her discomfort... and her wrath.

To that effect, Clark had one arrow left in his quiver. He pulled a pack of spearmint gum from his pocket and popped a stick into his mouth. This was the one scent that didn't seem to make Lois nauseous these days. If he played his cards right, he just might avoid another night on the couch.

He inhaled, letting the coolness of the mint float around his mouth. Gently he expelled the breath, sending a cool breeze of minty freshness toward his suffering wife.

Lois leaned her head back, letting the refreshing coolness of the air play across her sweat soaked neck. A few deep breaths and the color began to return to her cheeks.

"Saved once again by super-powers..." she rasped, her throat raw from its ordeal.

Clark shuffled his feet. "You're welcome."

Lois glared up at him. "I mean you." After a moment she raised one arm in silent invitation.

Clark sprinted forward to help her to her feet, gingerly lifting her off the ground and cradling her in his arms.

Lois groaned and tapped his chest, shaking her head.

Clark leaned forward, letting her feet back onto the tiled floor of the bathroom. "Again?" he asked gently, rubbing the small of her back.

Lois stepped away from him and braced herself against the sink before turning on the water.

Clark gazed at her helplessly.

"Have I mentioned the time I flew repeatedly around the Earth, reversing its rotation on its axis, thereby rewinding time and bringing you back from the dead?" he quipped softly, hoping to coax a smile. Clark looked at her in the mirror apologetically as he handed her a small pink toothbrush, pre-pasted, and ready for use.

She accepted it and glowered at his reflection.

"Clark..." Lois gave a few more brush strokes over her teeth before accepting the cup of water and spitting into the sink.

He passed her a hand towel and she dabbed the water from her chin.

"That isn't even scientifically possible."

With that she turned on her heel and left the bathroom.