Couple(s): Chloe/Lex

Rating: G/PG

Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to someone other than me. The title comes from the Tal Bachman song of the same name.

Spoilers for: minor references to the last few chapters

Author's Note: In preparation for a sequel that I may or may not write--I'll have to see if I get inspired--here's a quick, pure schmoopy chapter from Lex's POV. After the trauma I put them through, I thought they needed a break. Be warned: it gets clichéd and predictable toward the end. Ah, well.

******

Beside You

They kicked me out after five minutes. *Five minutes*. Something must have been seriously wrong for that to happen; when Lena was born I was allowed to remain in the room the whole time. I loved being by Chloe's side, holding her hand, letting her swear at me. Really, it was the second greatest day of my life. (The first being the day I married her, of course.)

"Lex, relax," Martha called from one of the uncomfortable plastic visitor's chairs that rested in the lobby of the hospital. "Everything will be fine."

I didn't break my stride when I turned to give her a look. It crossed my mind to mention that she'd never had her own children and, thus, couldn't possibly have known if everything was, in fact, okay. Just in time, though, I realized how cruel that would've sounded. So I bit my tongue until it bled and continued to pace the squeaky, tiled floor. The buzzing of the fluorescent lights was almost calming; it gave me something upon which to focus.

"Everything's not fine," I finally shot back, turning on my heel and headed back toward her. "Why did they ask me to leave this time?"

Clark's mother was in front of me, and I let her guide me to a chair. "Sit," she ordered, smirking. "I'm going to get you some coffee." She glanced at my legs, which were bouncing, and amended her statement. "On second thought, I'll just get you some water." She hurried off.

I took notice of my surroundings, trying to give myself something else to do. The walls were somewhere between off-white and pastel yellow; the aforementioned lights weren't making it easy to tell. The entire floor smelled of disinfectant and another, less intense odor. A cheerful receptionist was behind a large desk that put mine to shame. Every so often her phone would ring and she would answer it with a fake, sugary voice.

"This your first time?"

My head whipped around, and I struggled to regain my composure. I found myself staring at a man a few years older than myself; he was holding a magazine--it looked like 'Sports Illustrated'--and smirking at me.

My mind being...not as sharp as usual, it took me a second to realize what he meant. When it occurred to me, I shook my head. "No, second."

His bushy, blonde eyebrows raised. "Really? And you're still that nervous?" His deep voice was amused.

*Control yourself, Lex. It won't do any good to freak out in front of a stranger* Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to smile. "I was kicked out after five minutes; last time I stayed for the whole event." 'The whole event?' M'kay, Lex.

He nodded sagely, as though he'd been through millions of deliveries. "This is my sixth; I've been sent out many times. Don't worry; they probably just don't want you to distract your wife."

When I headed for the door a few minutes before, I snuck one last look at Chloe; despite the fact that she was covered in sweat, her was hair in disarray, and her face was contorted in pain, she was more beautiful than I've ever seen her. I don't mean that to be clichéd--she really does look fantastic when she stops worrying about her appearance.

Anyway, when I glanced back at her, she was staring at me. She didn't want me to leave anymore than I wanted to. I think I blew her a kiss and whispered, 'I love you', but I was too paranoid to remember exactly what it was I did.

"Here, drink this," Martha ordered, thrusting a paper cup in my hand.

I didn't see how water--simple H2O--would calm my nerves, but I decided to humor her. I tilted the cup back and gulped its contents. "Thank you," I muttered, tapping my foot against the floor to keep from pacing again.

"Maybe I should call Gabe and make sure Lena's okay," I said quickly, standing before she could stop me.

With a sigh, Martha followed me to a nearby pay phone, plucked the receiver from my fingers, and led me back to my chair. "He's perfectly capable of watching his granddaughter for a while. You know that."

"I have to do *something*, else I'll lose my mind sitting here. Waiting. I *hate waiting!*" I heard myself shriek; then I cringed--I didn't really think embarrassing myself would make the time go faster.

Martha smiled sympathetically and patted my back. "Call the plant. I'm sure there's some future crisis that you can avert. You're good at that stuff."

"Are you mocking me, Martha?"

She held up her warm, calloused hands in defeat. "Not at all! I'm only thinking of things you can do to pass time."

My cell phone was in the pocket of my coat. I groped around behind me, discovered that my really expensive leather coat was on the *floor*--ARG!--and struggled to yank my phone from one of the pockets. "You know," I muttered to Martha as I examined the little black device, "I could have called the best doctors in Metropolis, had them do the delivery at home. But no: Chloe wanted to go to the hospital; she said it made her feel less pretentious. If I'd called my doctors, I could be with her right--"

There was a scream from somewhere down the hall, then a baby wailed, and a doctor announced that the woman had given birth to a boy...

My heart beat faster and I bolted out of my chair as a door opened and a female doctor stepped outside. "Mister Thompson, congratulations!"

The man with whom I'd conversed shortly marched proudly down the hall to greet his sixth child. I was envious. And anxious. And still paranoid. And terribly afraid that I would continue to babble endlessly about doctors and natural childbirth. I was a mess.

"I need some coffee, Martha," I whispered.

My feet were still clicking against the floor--it sounded like they were tapping to the tune of an old Black Sabbath song, but I no longer had control of my reflexes so I have no idea--but she nodded in acquiescence. "Okay. If you think you can handle it."

A shrill buzzing noise made me start in surprise. "What's that?" I asked Martha, who hadn't left yet, aware that my voice was shaking.

She laughed that time. "Your phone's ringing, Lex. Can I leave to get coffee now, or do you need me?"

*Right; it's your phone. Calm down. No need to get bent out of shape.* "Go ahead. I think I'll be okay."

Once she walked purposefully down the hall, I flipped open my phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, Lex. Is everything all right?"

"Gabe," I returned calmly, "everything's fine." I wasn't going to alarm my father-in-law; I had to keep it together for his sake. After all, he gave his daughter to me, of all people; I didn't need to cause him more stress by making him worry about her.

In the background, I heard Lena squealing about something. The sound made me grin. "Is everything okay over there?" I asked, curious as to why he was calling.

My daughter stopped making noise, and I heard him tell her to quiet down; it was naptime. I was tempted to let him know that she never went down for a nap willingly, but then I remembered that he was a father. He knew things like that. "Everything's cool. I wanted to see how things were going, that's all. Send Chloe my love."

Martha returned. I accepted a styrofoam cup gratefully, giving her a smile. "I'll do that. Kiss my daughter for me."

"Will do. Bye, Lex."

Slipping the phone back in my coat with much difficulty--it's harder than it looks to turn around in a hospital chair, especially when you're also holding a hot beverage--I sighed. "That was Gabe."

Martha nodded and sipped her own coffee. "Are you relaxed finally?" she wondered, her tone teasing.

My palms were sweaty, so I wiped them on my pants. She chuckled at this. "Oh, yeah. I'm fantastic. Seriously. Talking to Gabe kind of calmed me down, though I don't know why."

There was another shriek of pain, another slapping sound, another baby crying. After a quick surveillance of the waiting area, I discovered that I was the only 'father-to-be' in attendance. *That can only mean one thing.* "Fantastic," I repeated under my breath.

A smiling male doctor meandered out of another room, then approached Martha and myself. "Congratulations, Mister Luthor--" I didn't let him get any farther than that; I hurtled down the hall and rushed into the room, not acknowledging the squeak of my shoes against the floor.

"Hey, sexy," Chloe whispered, grinning at me.

"Hi, love." I was at her side in an instant. When I glanced down, I noticed that she wasn't holding anything. "Where's our baby?" I asked, anxiety creeping back into my voice.

She laughed tiredly and pulled me onto the bed next to her. "The nurses are cleaning him off, honey. Don't worry."

I swallowed, flushing with embarrassment. *Of course* they were cleaning him off. "How are you doing?" I asked quietly, taking one of her hands.

"I'm bloody magnificent, Lex. I think I'll go run a marathon now," she said, completely deadpan, her voice revealing the exhaustion she tried to cover up.

I laughed, then said, "you have no idea how much I love you, Clo." As I bent down to kiss her, she sighed.

"You know I love you more than anything," she whispered in my ear before I straightened up.

Footsteps in the hallway. We craned our necks, vainly attempting to see who was coming.

"Congratulations, Luthors!" a chipper male nurse announced, holding a blue bundle in his arms. "I believe this belongs to you." The bundle was in my arms, and I suddenly couldn't breathe.

Next to me, Chloe sucked in her own breath and sniffled. She gently pushed the edge of the blanket away from our son's face; he opened his eyes--which were the brightest, clearest blue I'd ever seen--and yawned.

Facing my beloved wife, I had to fight back tears. She was already crying silently, grinning broadly. "He looks like you," she managed to say, while she stroked his cheek.

He had my nose and mouth, but, "he has your eyes," I told her, dangerously close to breaking down myself.

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she reached for him. Reluctantly I parted with the soft bundle; even though we had Lena--who, by the way, was recovering well from the trauma of the month before--the feel of a baby in my arms was still indescribably wonderful. "We should think of a name," I suggested.

She nodded, studying his face. The sight of her so ecstatic was enough to, finally, make me cry. After a moment, she glanced up, smiled, and slid her hand down my cheek. I grasped that hand and continued to hold it while we exclaimed over the newest addition to our family.

*That certainly wasn't trite, Lex* At that second, I didn't care how clichéd my thoughts were; I was giddy.

"Where's Martha?" Chloe wondered. She was no longer crying, but she was still grinning. As was I.

There was no way I was going to leave the room, even for a second; even to call Martha inside. "She must want to give us some privacy."

A voice broke in and someone walked inside. "I was running outside to get my camera; forget about this privacy stuff."

"Martha," my wife said excitedly, giving the older woman a one-armed hug. "Isn't he beautiful?"

"He's gorgeous. He looks like you both," she remarked, smiling brightly.

"Want to hold him?" Chloe offered, extending our son.

With an enthusiastic nod, Martha gingerly rested him against her arm and began to make cooing sounds; much like Chloe and I had been doing before. Babies have that effect on people.

I admit that when I was an irresponsible, partying teenager reveling in the wonders of the Metropolis nightlife, having children of my own seemed like an incredibly stupid concept; I certainly couldn't fathom spending my days changing diapers, fixing bottles, and crawling around on the floor.

That was before Chloe came along. I don't want to sound completely sappy, but she honestly made me want to be a better person. She's so honest, respectful, and trusting; I knew I wanted to be worthy of her respect. When we started dating--if you could use that word to describe what we did for those four years--I was mystified as to why she loved me as much as she claimed she did.

It still amazes me how, after about eight years with her, I suddenly wanted children, with her and only her. I wanted to wake up in the morning and have something other than the plant to care for. I wanted something to prove to her that I was truly deserving of her love and trust.

*Wow. Being madly in love, married, and content beyond belief has made you schmoopy, Lex* I told that part of my brain to shut up permanently, and then turned back to my son.

"Hi," I whispered, gladly taking him from Martha. "You have no idea how happy you've made me, and we just met. You've turned your father into a babbling, grinning dork. I hope you realize how special that makes you; only your mother and your sister have managed to do that before."

I vowed again--as I'd done when I held Lena for the first time--that I would continue to ward off the Luthor cycle of neglect and megalomania. No children of mine will be forced into business, nor will they ever be forgotten.

"Lex, sweetie, hey," Chloe spoke up, her voice slurred from exhaustion. "What are you thinking about? You've been staring at him for ten minutes." She massaged the back of my neck for a moment, getting my attention.

"Nothing," I replied nonchalantly, "just thinking about...nothing." I didn't think she needed to hear my private vow; it's not that she wouldn't have understood, only that she would have reminded me that the Luthor traditions I worried about ended when my father passed.

"He fell asleep," she whispered suddenly, running her fingers over his forehead lightly.

So he had. "Any thoughts about names?"

Chloe nodded, and I motioned for her to elaborate. However, before she could, Martha stood and stretched. "I should be going; you guys look like you could use some rest. Remember if you need anything at all, give me a call."

Smiling, Chloe kissed Martha's cheek. "Thanks, I'll remember that. I'm on leave for the next three weeks, so you don't have to come over unless you'd like to."

"Not that we wouldn't love to see you," I interjected.

With a chuckle, Clark's mother bent over and kissed our son's forehead. "I'll see what happens tomorrow. Let me know when you've thought of a name."

Somehow, Chloe and I had the same idea at precisely the same time. I don't know how it happened, but we both blurted out, "how about Jonathan?"

At the mention of her late husband, Martha's breath hitched. "It's your decision," she choked out.

I grinned again, giving her a warm hug. "Yes, and that's what we've decided."

A shaky smile crossed her lips, her eyes lit up; not simply because of the gesture, I assume, but because she recalled that her husband and I hadn't gotten along; to put it mildly. I never held any animosity toward the late, lamented John Kent, but he disapproved of my friendship with his son. Over the years I grew to respect him, and he seemed to get used to me. Naming our son after him was my way of showing that I forgave him for all the harsh words that he'd fired at me. (It also happens that I love the name, but that's not as important.)

"'Bye, guys. Bye, Jonathan." Martha gave the newly-dubbed John a long look. "I'll call you tomorrow, Clo."

"Or I'll call you," Chloe shot back.

With one last wave, Martha left.

Almost as soon as the door shut softly behind our friend, Chloe's eyes began to flutter closed. I rested Jonathan in her arms, then laid down next to her. "Want to know what I was really thinking about?" I kissed her passionately just after I spoke, not letting her reply for several moments.

When we broke apart, her eyes glittered. "That better *not* have been what you were thinking, Lex. Two is enough for now."

I laughed out loud, surprised by her comment; as I usually am. "I was thinking about you and the kids and how much you've changed me since way back when."

Chuckling, she ran her fingers over my scalp teasingly, all the while fighting to stay awake. "I changed you, did I? Pray, tell how I did that?"

"Just by being you," I said honestly. When she made a face, I fought back another laugh; I didn't want to wake our son.

"Wow, I guess parenthood does make one spout platitudes all the time," she remarked with a smirk.

"Being in love with the most amazing woman in the quadrant does that too."

Her eyebrows raised. "Not in the galaxy?"

"I thought that would be too much."

She yawned again. "Can I go to sleep now?"

I kissed her again. "Nothing was stopping you before; you were the one who wanted to hear what I had to say," I teased.

"Can't argue with that logic," she mumbled. "Will you take him? As much as I want to hold him, I'm afraid I'll do something really stupid--like drop him on the floor--while I sleep."

Biting back the urge to say that she couldn't do anything stupid if she tried, I carefully placed John in my arms, hoping I wouldn't wake him. "We'll stay here while you sleep," I assured her.

"Of course you will; there's no way I'd let you leave after what you just put me through." So she wasn't too exhausted to be snarky. How I love her.

"Yes'm," I retorted, running my free hand through her hair when she snuggled closer to me. "I love you."

"Yeah, yeah. I love you too. Now shut up, will you?"

I shortly joined my wife and son in sleep; an hour later John woke us up, interrupting a beautiful dream involving Chloe and flower petals. It didn't matter that the images vanished as soon as I opened my eyes.

I had the real thing--plus much more than I thought I deserved--and I'd take that over a dream any day. FINIS

******

Back