FOUR
by Wanda Detroit
Thanks to Stopquitdont for being a SUPER BR! Feedback is welcome. Enjoy!
* * 4 * *
The Daily Planet was abuzz with excitement over the baby on the way. Jimmy Olsen had set up two empty coffee cans--one pink and one blue--where the Planet’s employees were placing bets on the baby’s gender. A poster above the two cans bore a black-and-white, grainy sonogram photo of Lois and Clark’s baby that Jimmy had enlarged in the photo lab. The poster read, “Boy or girl? All contributions go towards Baby Kent’s College Education.” Every week, Jimmy would announce what gender was winning--a statistic that changed as fast as the weather did that month.
Lois and Clark had made the decision to let the baby’s gender be a surprise. Clark had diplomatically agreed not to use x-ray vision to find out for himself ahead of time! He didn’t want to know any sooner than Lois anyhow. So for the time being, they were just as amused at the Planet staff’s bets as everyone else was.
A mass e-mail popped up on Lois Lane’s screen, interrupting her work. She pointed it out to Clark, who was seated beside her. “Hm, looks like we’re having a girl this week.”
“Nice!” Clark said with a grin.
“Ugh, I feel like a whale,” Lois proclaimed for the third time that day. She pushed her chair back a little from her desk and stretched uncomfortably.
“Honey, you look beautiful,” Clark responded, almost automatically. Maybe a little *too* automatically, he soon realized.
“You’re only saying that because you have to.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and frowned. The truth was, she certainly had blossomed since last month. It was impossible for her to hide her pregnancy at this point. When she bought her first maternity dresses they were quite loose. Now she was filling them out rather well.
Clark gave her a gentle smile. “That’s not true and you know it. I always think you’re beautiful. Every single second of every single day.”
“Even when I get up in the morning and have bedhead and morning breath?”
“*Especially* when you get up in the morning with bedhead and morning breath,” he replied with a smile.
That merited a much-deserved jab in the shoulder. “Take it back, Kent!”
Clark raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay... I take it back.” He rose from his chair and stood behind her, massaging her neck and shoulders as he read the beginnings of the story she had been typing.
“Mmm,” she moaned. “That’s one way to make it up to me...”
Clark grinned. He read part of their article aloud, with a slight ‘adjustment.’ “Congressman Keene declined to comment. His supporters affirmed that Keene still believes... that Lois Lane is the prettiest whale he’s ever seen, and if it wasn’t for that nitwit Clark Kent--”
“Hey!” Lois exclaimed, with a laugh.
Clark shrugged and smiled.
He didn’t stop his teasing there. By the time they got home and finished dinner, Clark took out a legal pad and a pencil and started scribbling. He’d found Lois to be a little less moody than last month. She was much more willing and able to take a joke now and again. And he was more than happy to keep her laughing.
“What are you up to...?” Lois inquired suspiciously. She watched, amazed, as Clark scribbled away, hunched over the note pad in such a way that Lois could not see what he was writing.
“You’ll see.” His cryptic smile nearly gave him away. “No peeking.”
By the time Lois was ready for bed, a sheet of the yellow paper was waiting for her on her pillow. It had an elaborate cartoon of a smiling whale, complete with blow hole spouting water. The heading (written cleverly within the whale drawing) was “Famous Whales.”
The rest of the paper was a list. It read:
Moby Dick
Shamu
Free Willy
Baby Beluga
Monstro
Lois Lane (the cutest whale of them all!)
As soon as Clark entered the room, she groaned and folded the paper into an airplane. She threw it at him, hitting him square in the chest.
“I take it you didn’t like my joke?”
Lois could not keep a straight face for long, and burst out laughing. “It *was* pretty funny...” she admitted.
Clark unfolded the paper and smoothed it out, setting it on Lois’ nightstand and admiring his handiwork. “Good. I was hoping you’d get a laugh out of it and not make me spend the night on the couch...”
“Not this time,” she said with a smirk. “Just one question... who the heck is ‘Monstro’?”
“You don’t know who Monstro is? The whale from ‘Pinocchio’! Better brush up on your Disney movies, Lois, with a baby on the way.”
“Our baby is *not* seeing ‘Pinocchio’ any time soon. That movie is *scary.*”
Clark considered it for a moment. “You have a point there... There’s that whole carnival when Pinocchio gets captured, then he gets swallowed up by the whale... Our baby has to be at least eighteen to see that one.”
“Well, *that’s* a little extreme, Clark.”
Clark closed in for a kiss. “Mmm, is it?” he murmured, his lips claiming hers.
“Keep *that* up and I may start agreeing with you...”
* * * * *
The next morning, Lois was awakened by a strange smell. Was it paint? She slipped out of bed quietly. “Clark? What’s going on?”
She heard sounds coming from the guest room. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, honey,” Clark called.
She followed the sound of his voice into the room and was shocked by what she saw.
The walls and ceiling were painted light blue. From about waist level down, he’d painted the walls green. Within the green space, he had applied decals of sea creatures--mostly there were fish, but there were also a few crabs, octopi, and--yes--whales scattered throughout. There was a ship and an anchor on the main wall that he’d painted by hand. Clark was hovering near the ceiling applying the finishing touch, yellow star-shaped decals. It was a beautiful nursery!
“Oh, Clark! This is incredible!”
Clark beamed. “I wanted to surprise you. What do you think?”
“I love it! I didn’t know how much of an artist you were...” Her eyes were wide, taking it all in.
“What do you think of the ocean theme?” Clark inquired, carefully placing the last of the stars on the ceiling.
“I think it’s terrific--it will be great for a boy or a girl,” Lois said, grinning. “I even like the whales.”
“The whales are just for you.” Clark laughed. “You don’t think blue is bad? I mean, what if it’s a girl?”
“I think blue is great. The stars look amazing! Besides, why should we perpetuate any gender stereotypes?” She smiled as Clark touched down to the floor. He gathered his wife in his arms.
“I can’t wait to meet our baby,” he murmured, leaning in and kissing her lightly on the lips. “I love him or her so much already.”
“Me, too.”
“Come on; I don’t want you breathing in all these paint fumes,” Clark said gently. He took his wife’s hand, guiding her into the living room.
“There’s one thing we haven’t talked about yet, Clark,” Lois said once they were seated on the couch.
“What’s that?”
“Names...”
“How about ‘Shamu’ if it’s a girl, and ‘Monstro’ if it’s a boy?” Clark laughed at his own joke.
“Very funny, Kent. Knock it off with the whales, will you?” She felt the baby start to stir and pressed Clark’s hand to her stomach.
He could feel the baby shifting from side to side. It was amazing! “She’s taking a swim,” Clark said with a laugh.
“*She*?” Lois inquired suspiciously. “You didn’t cheat, did you?”
“No, no... I said ‘she’ because it’s a girl this week, remember?”
“Ah. Right.”
Clark leaned over and very gently rolled Lois’ pajama top up, revealing her very pregnant belly. “Hey, kiddo. This is your Daddy speaking,” Clark started.
Lois giggled. She watched as Clark pressed his ear to her stomach. “What does the baby have to say about that?” she asked.
Clark concentrated. “Gurgle-gurgle,” he stated at last.
“Sorry,” Lois admitted, “that was my stomach growling... I’m starving.”
Clark planted a soft kiss on her belly, then smoothed her shirt back down to cover her. “All right, let’s get some breakfast in *both* of you.” He cupped her cheek in his palm and stole a steamy good-morning kiss. “Mmm, told you that you were beautiful with bedhead and morning breath...”
Clark dashed off into the kitchen at super speed, before Lois even had time to retaliate!
* * * * *
The End? Nope! Look for "Three" coming in June! -W.D.
