Author Note: Hey, Cakes and Cookies, I hope you are well. I thought up this idea on a walk and had to write it. I will try to be diligent with this piece, but I have professional writing I have to keep front and center. I am bummed the show is ending. Whoever made the decision screwed up royally. S&L deserved at least seven seasons. However, I know I will enjoy the last season. The Writers and actors did a terrific job with these stories and characters. We all need hope and positivity and cultivate what joy we can. I hope this story puts a spring in your step.

"It's been only two…" Freddy was fighting with his sweater. Losing balance, he landed on his queen, the springs bouncing him back.

"It's been only two dates," he completed when he pulled his head through the neck, winning the battle. Mom chuckled on the other end of the line.

"I didn't ask if you were proposing; I just wanted to know how it was going."

"It was the lilt in your tone." Freddy grabbed his glasses off the bedside table and slipped the round frames over his Sinatra blues.

"It's going. Don't get me wrong, I like him; I'm just getting out of this dry spell."

"Two years isn't a dry spell, sweetheart; it's a drought." Freddy rolled his eyes.

"Roll those eyes all you want, mister. You know I'm right." Damn, mom radar. Freddy smoothed the wine-colored yoke and forked his fingers through his black hair, a rebellious lock trying to break rank every time.

"I swear to God, you, Lia, and Belle talk about me behind my back." In the reflection of his flea market mirror, Freddy caught a streak of red and blue across the morning news. He flicked off the TV.

"Be nice; your sister loves you, and Lia is a great friend. I'm sure Jackson has nudged you, too. It's funny you and he never –"

"Ma, I'm going to stop you there. Jack and I have different tastes in men. Plus, he's more interested in women than I am." Freddy watered his three house plants on the sill, basking in the west side light. He knew his mom was well aware that just because they were bi men, that didn't mean they automatically were attracted to each other, but she did hint they would be cute together.

"Are you going out tonight?" As Freddy searched for his keys,

"Yep, the three of us are trying that new sushi place in Hell's Kitchen."

"And your next date?" Freddy focused, and the furniture in his cramped apartment became transparent. He only had to play Where's Waldo momentarily before spotting them under the dresser.

"Freddy?"

"Sorry, not sure. He has a double shift at the hospital." Freddy put his phone in the crook of his neck as he lifted the dresser as easy as it was to raise a piece of paper and snatched the keys from a battalion of dust bunnies.

"I was going to surprise him with some cookies. Or is that weird so soon?"

"No, that's a sweet gesture. When we first started dating, your dad surprised me with sandwiches when he knew I had to pull an all-nighter at the lab. Of course, Security wouldn't allow them to go through, but the fact that he thought of me showed me he wanted to pursue a relationship. Freddy smiled at the picture of his parents on his mantle. They were in their early twenties like he was. However, the circumstances were worlds apart.

"I'm scared. After the last time…"

"I know you're scared. Being vulnerable is not easy, Hun, and I know, in some ways, the circumstances are different for you, but don't let them define your happiness. Everything about you is a gift." He took a silent breath.

"I love you, Ma," Freddy said as he wiped his eyes.

"I love you, my sweet boy. But please remember to use a condom." The laugh escaped her son's mouth.

Freddy departed his pill box soon after. The village gave him a blue sky, and the weatherman followed through with his promise of fifty degrees. Two blocks later, Freddy stepped into Moana's coffee shop, the namesake at the cash register. Moana was Freddy's second mother when he came down from Westchester, awed by the light and sounds of the big city. She gave him a job, and though he was writing for the Village weekly with Jack and Lia now, he still came in a couple of times a week when his deadlines allowed.

"Sorry, Mo, Mom had my ear."

"No worries, babe," she replied, pushing back one of her braids from her shoulder.

"Frederick, Dear?"

"He just got in, Viv."

Freddy faced a pair of regulars whom he did favor. Mr. and Mrs. Turner were sitting in their usual spot. They were close to eighty. Mr. Turner was a retired Professor, a short dumpling of a man wearing his favorite tweed cap he got from a trip to Dublin, and Mrs. Turner dressed in her favorite color, plum and ornamented in pearls. They had been customers since Mo bought the place, and Freddy enjoyed their candor. He loved talking to the older man about politics and books while his wife gave Freddy tips on treating his plants and trying to set him up with men who were terrible caricatures of Gossip Girl wealth. Dating Alex had forced Mrs. Turner to withdraw her role as matchmaker.

"How are you both doing this morning?" Freddy asked the couple.

"Great, dear, we have tickets to a matinee we are seeing; what was it, Ed?" Mrs. Turner turned to her husband.

"Spamalot." He answered, his eyes still trained on the newspaper before him.

"I heard it's excellent," Freddy replied.

"My Bridge Club said it was a total scream. Would you be so kind as to warm my tea?"

"Of course. And I'll freshen your coffee, Mr. Turner." The older man grunted, focused on an article. Freddy took the cup and went around the counter to the back. He had German chocolate cake cookies to bake and had to run by a new biscotti flavor by Mo. The cranberry pistachio was a crowd-pleaser, but he was mulling over ginger blackberry as a change of pace. As he tied his apron, Freddy checked if the coast was clear. He lifted his glasses off the bridge of his nose, his eyes flared red like a stove coil, and the tea simmered. Freddy returned with the tea in one hand and the coffee carafe in the other.

"I added a little extra honey, Mrs. Turner. I hope you don't mind."

"Absolutely not, Frederik. You're too good to us." She took a sip as Freddy poured into her husband's mug. Mr. Turner folded the paper.

"Great article the other day, Fred. You stuck it to that Rupert Thorn. Corrupt as they come. Bastard."

"Language Ed." Mrs. Turner chided.

"I appreciate that, Mr. Turner. Thank you. I'm not a fan of bullies."

"Amen to that son. You know, you're writing reminds me of what's his name. Kyle Kent?"

"Clark. Clark Kent." Freddy corrected.

"Thank you. A fine writer. Too bad the Daily Planet fired him. But I hear now he co-owns Smallville's paper with his wife, Lois Lane. She is fantastic in her own right."

"Frederick? Are you all right, dear?" The cloud departed, and Freddy realized he had zoned out in front of a live audience."

"Sorry?"

"Are you all right? You look a little peaked," asked a concerned .

"I was just remembering something for work. Sorry about that." Soon after Freddy made rounds with the carafe, the small talk with other customers diluted the tension, and he began to relax. Mo motioned to a customer sitting by one of the two large windows, the coffee shop name printed in gold leaf on the glass.

"Mind if I take five?"

"Of course not, babe." Freddy placed a fresh cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin before the man and sat across from him.

"I look forward to these every time I visit." John Diggle smiled at Freddy.

"I didn't bake them today, I'm afraid. You can thank Ben."

"Still your recipe," John reminded, cutting the muffin in half to make way for the whipped butter.

"I think baking is just one of your superpowers." Freddy glanced around the room.

"No one heard me, kid. You got to relax."

'I'm just cautious." Diggle smirked

"What?" The A.R.G.U.S Agent pulled out his phone and discreetly showed it to the younger man. It was a street recording marked two nights ago. Two men masked and clad in black, armed and carrying duffels, were running out of a jewelry store. There was a flash of something on the camera, and both men were knocked out on the sidewalk. Freddy looked panicked.

"I scrubbed everything."

Freddy sighed in relief.

"It was one time." Diggle kept his smirk.

"I marked at least ten times, and there was that sighting of a blur…"

"Okay, okay, a few times. But I just couldn't let it happen. My dad always told me evil triumphs when good men do nothing. You know Edmund Burke never said that."

'Well, regardless, kid, he wasn't wrong. Listen, I know you love being a journalist and a baker. You have great friends and family," he patted Freddy's hand.

"But I can see in your eyes you want to do more."

"John, I'm no superhero. I know I was born with these… abilities; you and Mom have trained me to use them, and I feel confident with them and appreciate it. Yes, sometimes I get tired of venting my frustrations and concerns on paper only to see the bad guys win, but after what happened, not to mention my family, friends, and a guy I think can be something more with, I know it's selfish, but I don't want to risk losing that, fake Burke quote or not." John nodded sympathetically.

'Let's not forget, the D.E.O wouldn't be thrilled you've had your own superhuman and didn't tell them."

"Kid, you don't have to worry about them. If they did, they wouldn't try anything, and you know why." There was a brief pause of understanding.

"Can I ask you a question, Freddy?"

"Ever consider therapy?" Freddy teased, But John was serious.

"I agree you should talk about all this with someone. It's a lot to carry, and your mom and I are here for you always, but there is one person who knows exactly how you feel."

"No, John."

"Kid, I don't want to be the nag my kids say I am, but he has a right to know."

"John,"

"It's going to get harder the longer it's kept from him, and one of these days, you decide to save the day, the D.E.O may catch the wind, and you know who the head is, and you know who his daughter is and I don't think I have gone down every branch of that tree." Freddy looked out the window; he wanted to crawl out of his skin every time they had this conversation.

"He would accept you. Help you navigate the paths I and your mother can't."

"He has a life, John, a family; this would affect all of them."

"Why is that a bad thing? Yeah, it would be a shock and adjustment, but I've been around them long enough to know Lois would also accept you, and so would the boys. Jordan might need extra time, but he'd be on board."

"I know this is going to sound like I'm stalling, and maybe I am, but let me have the weekend, maybe talk to my mom about it. Please." John gave him the okay, and thankfully, his expression was encouraging, not resigned. Of course, he was stalling. He knew this was a lot. It would change everything for the better. John wasn't a pessimist. Freddy had to finish his shift and left for the kitchen on good terms with the man he considered an uncle. The Kid would never be ready; no one could be ready for this. How could you tell Superman that for most of his career, he had a son he never knew about?