(A Sequel to "Aftermath," which is a sequel to "A Man's Got to Know his Limitations")
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. This is for fun only.
From the Anchorage Daily News: "Alaska Airlines Flight 777 sure didn't seem lucky to the 214 passengers and crew aboard when a freak storm forced her down in the Wrangell Mountains last night. No one was killed outright, but the plane was heavily damaged in the emergency landing, and the weather was nothing short of horrendous. Barney Dean of Alaska Search and Rescue says, 'We were gearing up, but no way were we going to be able to get there in time to save them all. The plane was toast; they didn't have proper shelter or supply. The injured were going to die, and probably some of the others as well. Unless there was a miracle.' Three hours after it crashed, Flight 777's luck changed. A stranger showed up out of the blizzard -- a genuine Alaska Mountain Man, according to witnesses, who gave his name as 'Paul Bunyan.' 'Mr. Bunyan' got the flight attendants to strap the wounded into the seats in the largest undamaged section of the aircraft, and all the rest of the passengers, somehow, to crowd in there with them. Then the legendary lumberjack went back outside through the huge rent in the fuselage, cryptically telling the frightened people to 'Just hang on.' Maybe he had Babe the Big Blue Ox out there waiting for him, because the broken plane began to move. Somehow, 'Paul Bunyan' seems to have slid the wreckage of Flight 777 all the way down to the town of Gakona, almost fifty miles away from what the FAA swears was the crash-site. Nobody saw him again once they hit town, but the lucky people of Flight 777 owe you a big thank-you, 'Paul,' whoever you are. Thanks for the unexpected miracle."
Clark blushed and ducked his head.
Lois was pleased she could still make him do that. "I think all that plaid and flannel's going to your head. You need a real job again, one where you have to wear a tie to work. Perry'd probably hire you back."
"Bite me, Lois."
"Okay, Smallville, but you'll have to come over here so I can reach -- my feet are killing me."
Clark rolled his eyes a little, then obediently knelt beside the massive leather sofa so his partner could nibble on his neck. He was just getting into the kissing her back part, when Lex walked in.
Clark groaned and buried his face in Lois's ample cleavage. "Leave me alone," he said, sounding a little muffled.
Lex chuckled. "Never again, farmboy, never again." He dropped a kiss on the top of Clark's head in passing, then sat down on the couch at his wife's feet. He picked them up onto his lap and started rubbing them, and Lois moaned aloud in delight.
"Oh, God, Lex, just like that. Ohhh."
Lex continued rubbing, but he also went into lecture mode. "You know, Clark, people got along just fine on this planet before you landed here. You don't have to keep doing this."
Clark sat on the carpet with his back against the couch. He didn't look at Lex. Lois played with his hair. "I heard about the crash on the radio, and they said everyone was alive but no one could get there to help. People were going to die, Lex, and I could save them, and nobody else could. You can't really expect me to not go help."
"People do die, Clark. It's the natural order of things."
"Says the first man whose life I ever saved. You're such a hypocrite sometimes."
"Boys," Lois said warningly. Both men were silent for a minute.
Then Lex said, "And what's all this with getting kittens out of trees, anyway?"
"I just can't stand to hear them crying."
"Kittens do get out of trees by themselves."
"Lex," Clark said exasperatedly.
Otherwise the trees would be full of kitten skeletons."
"You sound like my dad, now. Quit it."
"Boys!" Lois snapped. "Ooof!"
Both men were startled by the exclamation. Lex let go of Lois's feet, and Clark whipped his head around to look at her in concern. She was rubbing the side of her big round belly.
Clark was obviously x-raying her. "Lois?" he asked.
"I'm fine. Relax, guys. Junior here just belted me one."
"Are you sure you're okay?" Lex asked. He took his cell phone out of his pocket. "Do I need to call the doctor?"
"I'm fine," Lois repeated. "It's normal. Actually, it's kind of neat. You want to feel?" She took Lex's hand and moved it onto her abdomen. "Right there. Let's see if he does it again. I bet he'll have a mean left hook."
Clark was still looking through her tummy, apparently, because he was grinning like a fool. "It's his elbow, actually. He's sucking his thumb."
"This is so unfair," Lex complained. "You get to see him, and you get to feel him, and I don't... Hey! I felt him!"
"Cool, isn't it?" Lois smirked.
"Yeah." Lex got down on his knees on the carpet next to Clark and leaned his head close to his wife's tummy. "Hey, in there," he said softly. "How are you? We're all looking forward to seeing you. Well, except for Clark."
Lois patted Lex on the head, then put one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of the couch, and sat up. "Man, you guys are goofy. Help me up," she demanded.
Lex and Clark helped Lois to her feet, and they all went to have dinner.
"How do you stay so massive when you don't eat any more than that?"
"Lex, now you sound like my mom. You really really never want me in your bed again?"
Lois put her napkin up to her mouth and laughed at them, long and hard. They were used to it by now.
Lex granted the notion that his inquiries would keep Clark out of his bed all the consideration it deserved, which is to say none. Once the extraterrestrial farmer had finally lost his cherry, he'd become well-nigh insatiable. Lex was glad there were two Earthlings in this arrangement; he wasn't sure he could have kept up with Clark all by himself.
"I'm not telling you, 'Eat, bubby, eat.' I'm just wondering about your metabolism." He was curious, that's all. It's not like he was going to do anything evil with the knowledge.
"I don't know, Lex. I used to be hungrier than I am lately. Maybe it's because I'm out in the sun all the time, now. When I used to work at the Planet, I had to wear long sleeves every day, and I was inside most of the time. And as Superman I was mostly outside at night; plus the suit covered up a lot of skin."
"Covered up isn't exactly how I'd put it," Lois added slyly.
Clark and Lois traded heated glances.
Lex's curiosity put up a little more of a struggle against his lust. "So you think that when you're getting more energy from exposure to the sun, you don't need as much energy from food?"
"Hmm?" Clark tore his eyes away from what Lois was doing with a Kent Organic carrot. "Oh. Yeah, I guess. That makes sense, doesn't it?"
Now Lex was noticing Lois playing with her food. He swallowed. "Sure, Clark, that makes sense. Is everybody ready for bed?"
They left the table for the servants to clean up and adjourned upstairs.
Clark always awakened first. Decades of life on a farm had left him with a sense of when the sun came up. Or maybe it was because he was a solar-powered alien. Whatever the case, he reliably woke up every morning about an hour before dawn. Nine times out of ten, he'd find that he had Lois snuggled up against his right side and Lex against his left, just as they'd awakened together the very first time. This morning, though, Lex was cuddled up on the other side of Lois, so Clark was just able to roll out of bed instead of having to levitate to avoid waking the other two.
He knew from experience that Lois would wake up soon even if no one disturbed her, and it pleased him to have her breakfast of sweet tea and dry toast waiting on the bedside table. He'd gotten into the habit of bringing it to her early on, when the morning sickness had been bad. It was just an extension, really, of the habits he'd gotten into as her partner on the paper -- "keep Lois fed and happy so she doesn't rip your lungs out" was a game that he and Jimmy (and even, to some extent, Perry) had shared for fifteen years.
Mr. White had been pretty freaked out when his star reporter had returned from her mandatory vacation time not only married to the notorious Lex Luthor, but also pregnant. Lois had made a funny story out of it, of course, ending with the line, "Well, Perry, you're the one who made me go on vacation!" Clark hoped it would all work out. He still felt a little free-floating guilt about the way he'd disrupted his friends' lives. Well, not so much the part where he'd disrupted Lex's career as a super-villain.
Clark set down the tea and toast and kissed Lois for a little while. She was mostly awake before he started, and definitely awake by the time he was through.
"Mmm. Good morning," she murmured up at him.
He smiled at her. "Good morning. Your breakfast is right here. I've got to go, now, but I'll see you two later. Tell Lex I love him, and I love you, too."
Lois hauled her ungainly self up to a sitting position. Lex, still deeply asleep for another half-hour probably, shifted bonelessly in the bed as she moved. "Love you, too, Smallville. Have a good day on the farm."
Clark sped away.
The work of a small organic farm went quickly when you were a super-powered alien who'd been brought up to it. Clark generally took care of his cattle and poultry, did a little pruning or fruit-picking (depending on the season), then went back to the house around nine to make breakfast for himself. If Lex was in Smallville instead of Metropolis, he'd usually come over, and they'd have breakfast together. Then Lex would head back to work and Clark would do whatever was necessary out in the fields.
Clark kept the kitchen radio on to the news channel all the time; he just didn't feel right if he didn't. There was hardly ever an emergency, but when there was, he'd just take care of it as quickly and unobtrusively as possible. So far, he'd been lucky. No one had caught him still being Superman.
In the afternoons he'd deliver produce (that was usually where the kitten-rescuing portion of the day's activities came in), then visit people in town, or have a coffee at the Talon, or just lie in the sun on the barn roof with his shirt off. Today it was that last one. It was hard to remember when he'd last seen Pete -- was it when Lex had had him and Lana over for dinner, to discuss managing Lex's possible campaign for Mayor of Metropolis? Probably.
Clark took care of the stock towards evening, then zoomed back to the castle. About nine-tenths of the way there, he suddenly found himself walking instead of running. That was weird. He thought he should speed up again, but somehow he just didn't get around to it. He kept walking, feeling more and more peculiar.
By the time the castle came into view, Clark knew there was something really wrong. He felt weird, kind of sick and frantic. There was nothing to do but keep walking, though, so he did.
Clark finally arrived at the front porch of the mansion. His breath was coming in little gasps as he made his way up the steps. He had to get to the door; if he could knock or something, Lex and Lois would help him. Clark fell to his knees.
Lex always looked forward to the end of the day, when he'd put his work aside and go find Lois, and they'd wait together for Clark to come back from the farm. He could never decide whether it was better in Metropolis or Smallville. In Metropolis, Lois always had funny stories about her day at the Planet, but in Smallville she was generally a little bored and extra-horny. Extra-horny Lois was a very fine thing indeed, he reminisced lasciviously, although great-with-child-mostly-just-wanting-her-feet-rubbed Lois certainly had her good points, too.
Another drawback of Metropolis was that Clark frequently got sidetracked on his way over by stopping some sort of crime. Lex hated delays caused by the shortcomings of the Metropolis police department. After all, they were paid to keep the city under control. People complained about budget shortfalls, and so on, and the officers on the force were both diligent and overworked, but Lex knew he could fix it if he were in a position to do so; sometimes he almost itched with the wanting to set his city to rights. Lex knew all there was to know about concealing revenue streams in Metropolis; there were plenty of ways to evade taxes, and if somebody (namely Lex Luthor) would just put a stop to that, there would be plenty of money to increase the police and fire protection to reasonable levels. The greatest city on Earth really shouldn't need to rely on an alien for basic services, no matter how obliging he was.
Was that a thud at the door? The servants were always out in the early evening; Clark was more fun without the possibility of interruption.
Clark wouldn't knock; he'd just come in. Curious.
Lex went to open the front door.
Clark had apparently been leaning on it; he almost fell over sideways when Lex opened the door. Clark was on his knees and elbows; there was a startling amount of blood trailing from his mouth down the front of his shirt and splashed onto the stone steps. As Lex watched in horror, Clark gave a strangled cough and slowly vomited up what looked like a piece of raw liver the size of his hand. It plopped down onto the porch, and Lex could see it was attached by a twisty little cord to something small and bloody that Clark had cradled in his big hands. The thing moved. Oh, God.
"Lois!" Lex yelled.
Ordinarily Lois wouldn't have bothered to heave herself up from the couch at Lex's yell, but he sounded really upset, and she was curious. She waddled to the front door as fast as she could, to find her husband crouched next to her best friend, ineffectually trying to wipe blood from his face with a handkerchief.
"What the hell?" she asked. Then she saw. "Oh, my God. Clark, you hawked up a baby!?"
It was a boy, about a foot long, probably three pounds, she thought. It was lying in Clark's hands, kicking its feet, with its umbilical cord(?) still attaching it to the disgusting lump of flesh that must have been the Kryptonian equivalent of a placenta.
Lois wasted no time in picking the poor little thing up. "Jesus, Clark. You get freakier every goddam day. Lex, get some towels."
She'd never seen Lex look panicked before; it was kind of funny. He ran for towels, and Clark, hands free now, got up. He leaned against the side of the building and hoarsely choked out, "Wait. Bring him here."
Lois held the baby up to his, uh, parent, and Clark leaned over and bit the umbilical cord off short, about two inches from the infant's stomach.
"Eww," Lois said. "I'm just going to assume that was some alien biological imperative and forget about it. If you're gonna eat the placenta, too, I don't want to hear about it."
Clark was looking at her with big scared eyes, and breathing like a dying marathon racer. Lois gentled down. "It's okay, Clark. It really is."
Lex got back with the towels. Lois took one from him and wrapped the baby in it. "I'm going to take this little guy to the bathroom and wash him off. Lex, why don't you get Clark upstairs and help him with a shower. We'll be up really soon."
Clark leaned on Lex all the way up the stairs. He was sorry to get blood on Lex's shirt, but he just couldn't help it. He wanted to apologize for the mess, but he thought maybe it could wait until his throat hurt less.
Lex kept saying, "You're all right, Clark, it's okay," and sort of petting him. Clark was glad of it.
They got to the bathroom and Lex asked him if he thought he could manage a shower or if he needed a bath. "I can lean," Clark whispered, and started to take off his clothes. Lex got the water started and quickly stripped, then helped Clark off with his boots and jeans. Clark leaned against the cool tile wall, and Lex washed him, and hugged him, and petted him, and by the time he was all clean Clark felt much better. He still didn't want to talk much, though. Lex helped him into his terry-cloth robe, and dressed himself in clean clothes, and they both went out into the big master bedroom.
Lois was sitting in the rocking chair by the window, with Clark's baby, now clean and wrapped in one of the receiving blankets she'd bought for her baby, cradled in her arms. "You're just lucky one of us knew we were expecting, Clark. Otherwise we wouldn't even have diapers." She got up and gestured for him to take her place, then handed his child to him.
Clark counted ten little fingers, unwrapped the blanket a little and counted ten little toes. His baby started to get mad at the cold on his feet. The tiny little face screwed up and he started to cry.
It sounded just like a kitten up a tree.
Lois laughed. "Well, that explains that," she said.
Clark fumbled anxiously at the baby, trying to comfort him. He re-wrapped the blanket, but it didn't help. Suddenly there was a cramping pain in his chest, and he noticed his robe was getting damp. Oh, God. He opened his robe, and sure enough there was a thin stream of liquid jetting rhythmically from each nipple. "Oh, God," he whispered.
"That explains that, too. I always wondered about the chest. Since you don't actually have wings to flap," Lois commented.
Then Lois took pity on him and helped him get the baby's mouth positioned where it would do the most good. The baby didn't really suckle; Clark's massive pectoral muscles were involuntarily squeezing milk out from ducts apparently buried deep beneath the flesh. Lois disappeared for a moment and brought back an empty bottle, which she put where it could capture the milk from the other side, where the baby wasn't nursing. She idly stroked his hair with her free hand, and occasionally she'd say something like "There, there," or "You're doing fine."
After only about five minutes, the baby was asleep and Clark was thoroughly humiliated.
Lex was getting that look on his face, the "Lex Luthor, Mad Scientist" look. Suddenly he said, "the placenta!" and started to dash off. He stopped just outside the bedroom door and looked back at Clark with pleading eyes. "You don't mind if I do some experiments, do you? I promise I'll be good."
Clark shook his head and buried his face in his free hand. (One hand was still holding the baby.)
Lois was having far too much fun. "I'm so glad I fetched up with you two. I'm never going to be bored again, am I?"