InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "You just lost the game."

Darcy Rhone is a total MILF (total_milf) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2011-09-27 23:01:00

Entry tags:

clark kent/superman, darcy rhone

WHO: Darcy Rhone & Clark Kent
WHAT: Keeping one another distracted from grief
WHEN: Tonight
WHERE: Clark's apartment
RATING: PG if not PG-13, probably just for language
STATUS: In Progress

Once she'd gotten the go ahead from Florence and Jo was in safe care that Darcy completely trusted, Darcy packed a few outfits into a bag, most of them dirty and in need of laundering — she'd get to that tomorrow — and shoved her toiletries in along with them. Clark needed a distraction from his pain and Darcy needed Clark. She wasn't, of course, going to tell him that when she was meant to be his support system tonight, but it was true.

Kon's death had put a lot of things into perspective for Darcy when she'd found out. She was an insignificant speck in the grand scheme of things. Sitting back and waiting, being coy and manipulative...those days were over. Kon was half Darcy's age, nearly, from what she could tell; if he, with his super powers and determination, could die so young, Darcy needed to stop moping, stop wishing, wanting, and waiting around; Darcy needed to start living. She'd made the first bold move of her lifetime by telling Clark that she liked him. Normally, the men came flocking to her. She had never had to put herself on there and hope that she was requited. The only other time she'd done it was with Dex and even then...

"Ask Rachel on a date."

"Darcy! We're just friends."

"Fine. Ask me on a date."

Darcy had, earlier in the week, broken down and watched Something Borrowed, as a punishing sort of reminder that she had promised Ethan she would change and she meant to. Now it was time to stop waiting for it to happen and to just do it. After that, she'd read Something Blue all by herself, ignoring the Doctor's advice, because she hadn't heard back from Trish on it and, well...she needed to know about the boys. By the time she finished, Darcy had had a new outlook on life. She was still scared to be a mother and she'd still been scared to tell Clark how she felt, but on the bright side, she knew the boys would be born normal and healthy, Clark had told her he'd liked her, too, and Ethan hadn't turned out to be so bad, after all. By now, Darcy had the names of her babies already picked out and with Clark's blessing to use Kon's name — well, Conner, anyway — she felt accomplished and ready to start a new life. In the middle of the Apocalypse; in Lawrence, fucking Kansas, New Darcy was about to emerge.

Clark had come to the Roadhouse to see her back to the complex safely after Florence had taken Jo and, even though she'd been there the night before, Darcy felt oddly nervous and uncomfortable as soon as she walked in the door. The room was the same; the company wasn't. Jo had been a small, sleeping buffer zone that Darcy had felt safe with. She didn't fear Clark...she worried about how things would be when it was just the two of them, especially since both of them were hurting over the loss of Kon so much. Emotions would be confused and high, she was sure, because already, while half of her wanted nothing more than to curl up in his arms and cry and then return him the favor, the other half of her wanted so badly to kiss him and have him hold her and forget completely about the fact that his little brother had been murdered by an alternate version of Clark himself. This...would be interesting.

Standing awkwardly just inside the doorway, Darcy rested her hand on her stomach and found herself looking around as though she'd never been there before. Chewing her bottom lip, she finally spoke, trying to sound more confident and cool than she felt on the inside. "How do we want to do the, like, sleeping arrangements tonight...?" she asked, looking up at him and all at once feeling petite and content as well as small and insignificant. The night before, Clark had taken the couch while Jo and Darcy had taken his bed. She wondered if he would do the same tonight and she'd be left in his bed alone. Every bed, now, felt too big; too empty since Dexter and Marcus had left. It was why she'd talked Ethan into letting her sleep in his bed with him every night. Even her own bed felt too big and cold and lonely, never mind how Clark's would feel without him in it, now that it was just the two of them.

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whenyouseered
2011-09-28 03:11 am UTC (link)

Clark was tired. Not in that physical sort of way, where a person felt like they ran ten miles and back to the point where every bone inside their body hurt. No, the weary demeanor that had overtaken him was purely emotional and, worse yet, one that Clark didn't quite know how to fight off. It wasn't like he could crawl into bed, close his eyes, and wake up good, rested, and emotionally pumped for the day when all he felt was a heavy sense of agonizing burden no matter what he did or where he went.

Kon was dead. Everyone knew that he was. It was a simple enough fact, the sort of thing people could bring up casually in conversation and nod their heads along to as though his death happened to be just another topic for discussion. Just another day in the life, wasn't it? That poor kid. He had never stood a chance with another dose of horror crawling from the seals mouth. All factual. All true. Yet it all felt so empty. Kon was dead. There should have been more to it than that, right? The world should have shut down. Word of his death shouldn't have been the subject of gossip. Worse yet, it shouldn't have been so quiet. Forgotten. Insignificant. Yet, somehow, it was. People still left their houses, stopped for coffee on the way to work, made plans, went out, kept living. The boards were still churning out posts on a regular basis, drunken banter and amusing, friendly sort of talk filling into the places where mourning should have thrived.

It was pessimistic of him, Clark knew. He shouldn't have expected the entire world to throw in the towel just because Kon had died. Logically, Clark understood that life was always going to go on, no matter who died or how screwed up things got in the city. Not everyone was going to bury themselves in bouts of depression and, furthermore, not everyone had to, because not everyone knew Kon the way that Clark Kent did. All of that was fine and well and Clark was very much capable of understanding that. Again: logically. Emotionally? It was a different matter altogether. He had been angry at the world, angry at himself, angry at Kon. How could they all have kept on going? Why hadn't he been there to save him? Had Kon even given the consequences of chasing after a different version of Clark any thought?

The anger he had felt at the thought of it all had been unbearable. It had reached a high point a night ago, when Clark had stormed into his apartment and ripped his door clear off it's hinges. Upon doing so, the frame had twisted in on itself, wood splintering in such an unnatural way that most in passing probably would have wondered how someone could even have managed that much damage on their own. Clark was usually careful. So very careful. In that moment, though, care had fallen to the backburner. Clark could say it was an accident all he wanted, but truthfully, he'd ripped the door and it's frame apart of his own accord.

It hadn't helped any.

Darcy was standing at the doorway now. It was mostly replaced. Clark had gone out and bought the supplies he had needed to re-build the entrance to his home and had set to work on it earlier that day. It needed a paintjob and the frame was still a little busted, but Clark wasn't too worried about it. He was good, so long as there was a door there. Clark wasn't of the mind to worry about perfecting anything in relation to home decor right now. His head was too muddled up with grief and his schedule, complicated as it was, was completely full up with funeral arrangements.

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whenyouseered
2011-09-28 03:14 am UTC (link)

Fortunately for him, he wasn't going to have to tackle the funeral stuff alone. Darcy was there, standing by that damned door that hadn't helped him cope with his grief in the slightest. Darcy was different. Darcy, in all her insistence to help, had already made Clark feel better than that door ever could. Just her being there, supporting him emotionally...

Clark felt like he could breathe again.

Before Darcy had spoken up, Clark had been putting a few groceries he'd picked up on his way to meet Darcy into the fridge. When she had brought Jo over the night before, Clark had noticed that his food supply had been severely lacking. There hadn't been much he had been able to offer. With Darcy here again, Clark didn't want to leave her digging around for food that wasn't there. His appetite had been pretty nonexistent lately, but Darcy was pregnant. He knew she'd need something.

Clark pushed a box of strawberries (he remembered her nibbling on them in the kitchen not too long ago, so he knew that she liked them) onto the top shelf, then turned at the sound of her voice. At her question, Clark sheepishly shrugged and ran a hand along the back of his neck. "Uh..." Sleeping arrangements. He hadn't given the subject much thought, but Clark was pretty sure that Darcy didn't want to crash out on the couch. It wouldn't have been very comfortable for her. "You should take the bed," he offered. Clark pushed the door to the fridge shut and walked over to the doorway. "I don't mind the couch. I'm pretty used to it."

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total_milf
2011-09-28 03:38 am UTC (link)

Darcy watched Clark putting groceries away in silence. She'd noticed the strawberries and her cheeks had gone pink, wondering if he'd gotten them because he liked them...or because he knew she did. It seemed strange to watch him doing something so mundane. He was Superman, for Christ's sake, but...she liked the way it humanized him that much more. To everybody else, he might be Superman, but to Darcy, he was Clark Kent, the cute guy who'd offered to bring her ice cream after she'd bitched about sore boobs. Even Superman had to go grocery shopping. She closed her eyes to shake away a thought when he looked, for a flash of a second, more like Dexter to her than Superman.

Her eyes opened again when his voice sounded, stalling somewhat. She made the effort to give him a smile, but when he went on to say he'd sleep on the couch, the smile faded again and she nodded, looking down for a moment. "Oh. Yeah, okay, that's fine...thanks," she said softly. When her eyes moved upward again, Clark was making his way over to her. Darcy dropped her bag down on the floor and took a deep breath, letting it out in a soft sigh. "Want me to make us more tea...?" she offered half-heartedly. She wasn't really sure where this conversation was supposed to go.

Yeah. Darcy was stalling. She didn't really want to be making funeral arrangements for Kon, because that meant accepting that it really was over. She knew he was dead and that meant forever, but she wasn't ready to admit it out loud, so to speak, by setting it in stone with a coffin and a funeral. Plus...Darcy didn't really know where to begin, if she was honest. Her mother had done all of the work for her grandfather's funeral and even if she hadn't, Darcy had only been nine. She hadn't bothered to pay any attention to it all. Now, she wished she had.

"Um...listen, Clark, I..." she started slowly, her brow knitting with concentration as she tried to determine how to position her statement. "I'm really sorry. About everything that happened," she said. "I know it wasn't my fault," she tacked on quickly to prevent him trying to interrupt to tell her just that, "but...I don't know, I knew, I guess, that he could take care of himself for the most part. I mean, he was taking care of me...but I still sort of felt like it was my job to keep an eye out... I'm just, you know, sorry there wasn't anything more I could do," she finished, trailing off awkwardly and looking down again, pained. In her own way, she felt almost as responsible as Clark probably did and neither of them was to blame. Neither of them had any control over the situation. Neither of them could have stopped it. Plus, she felt terrible that she couldn't make herself say his name out loud. Writing it was one thing. Saying it was another entirely.

Keen to change the subject, even if just for a second, Darcy looked back up at Clark towering over her. "Thanks for letting me stay. I think I needed this as much as you do," she admitted, blushing slightly as she gave him a sheepish sort of half-smile that didn't reach her eyes.

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whenyouseered
2011-09-28 04:39 am UTC (link)

She didn't fight him about the bed. That was good. Clark didn't want to go through a tangle of them debating over who ought to sleep where, especially when it was obvious that Darcy wasn't going to be able to sleep on the couch. It was a decent couch, sure enough, but it wasn't fit for a pregnant woman. Clark wouldn't have let her take the couch anyway. It didn't really feel right to him.

Hands buried into the front pockets of his jeans, Clark listened as Darcy suggested tea. It didn't seem like a bad plan. It'd give Darcy more to do than stand around in his doorway in the awkward way Clark had noticed from the moment they'd stepped inside, which was also good. He didn't want her to be uncomfortable. But then, before Clark had a chance to agree, Darcy started to speak again. The subject wasn't so casual this time. His expression darkened a little at the start of her statement, mind immediately rejecting the idea of discussing Kon's death. Even with Darcy, it was hard. He didn't know what to say to people. What was he supposed to say?

Hey, thanks for the condolences, but I'm good. Really. You don't have to subject yourself to the social expectations of a person in mourning anymore, it's okay. I know you want to, but yeah. Thanks anyway.

If only it were that easy.

Her words were quick to turn, though. Darcy wasn't just expressing her sympathy, she was giving him a genuine apology. She felt responsible. Clark frowned and shook his head right away. He gently placed a large hand on her shoulder and leaned in closer, brow furrowed. "You couldn't have done anything. Kon is..." He paused and closed his eyes, the sting of his verbal mistake hitting him full on. "Was. Kon was stubborn. Once he had his mind set on stopping the other me...there was nothing you could do." If anyone could have changed Kon's mind, it would have been Clark. He knew that. And even if he couldn't have managed that, Clark still could have physically stopped him. Or maybe they could have gone after the other him together. If Clark had been there, would that fight have ended the same way? Probably not. He wouldn't have let Kon die. Clark looked away, quietly. He gave Darcy's shoulder a soft squeeze, then leaned over to pick up her stuff. "Don't blame yourself. He wouldn't want you to, you know."

Subject change. Clark was good with those. He used to pull them all the time back at the Daily Planet, particularly when people started getting dangerously close to figuring out who he was. "I'm glad you're here," Clark admitted. He didn't force a smile. It would have been a wasted effort. Clark looked at her, though, and the truth behind his words made it's way through his gaze. He meant it.

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total_milf
2011-09-28 05:08 am UTC (link)

It was to be expected that Clark would tell her that it wasn't her fault; there was nothing she could do. Kon was stubborn seemed to be the excuse he gave to make her feel better, but it never really did. It didn't matter that even Darcy knew there wasn't anything she could do more than she had; she still wished she could have done more. Instead of refuting Clark, though, and making things more uncomfortable than they already felt, Darcy just gave a solemn nod of agreement to drop the subject. It didn't mean she felt any less a part of Kon's death, but she wasn't going to push it because neither of them wanted to have that discussion, she was sure.

Even though Clark gave her no outward facial expression to back up the fact that he said he was glad she was there, somehow, Darcy could still tell that he meant it. She wasn't sure whether it was because it was in his eyes...or if she just felt it, but there it was. "Me too," she admitted. For a moment, she just stared back at him. She almost decided to wait it out to see what would happen, but then she remembered her new resolve. She stood on tip toe — which was a lot harder than she'd remembered it being before she was pregnant — reached up, and cupped the back of Clark's neck to guide him down to reach and she pressed her lips against his forehead briefly before letting go and lowering herself back onto flat feet.

Darcy's eyes remained on Clark. She could see it all over his face, no matter how or whether he was trying to hide it, that Clark had a lot of emotion and pain bottled up. Whether it was for her benefit or just out of a stereotype-driven habit, Darcy wasn't sure, but she'd seen the expression before...in the mirror. Clark needed to cry, even if he probably didn't want to. And that...made Darcy want to cry. Nay, it actually made her start to cry, even as she raised a hand to cover her face and shake her head. "I'm sorry," she said genuinely, "I, like, have no control over this shit, anymore," she admitted, blinking away tears that she felt she had no right to be shedding and sniffing with as much dignity as she could muster.

And then, she moved away from Clark, head down and face red with shame and embarrassment as she tried to pull herself together. She made her way to Clark's couch, dropped down, wiped her face, took a deep breath, and let it out in a huff. And just like that, Darcy couldn't cry anymore. Clearing her throat, Darcy pulled herself back together and pressed a hand absently against a baby foot pushing its way up against her stomach, leaving a slow-moving lump in its wake as the baby moved. "Sorry," she said again, finally looking back at Clark. "I'm good. I'm...I'll..." she cleared her throat one more time and swallowed thickly, nodding as if to convince herself. "I'm good," she repeated, almost meaning it.

It was time for another subject change. "Come here," she asked more than demanded. "They're moving again but it's easier to feel it on the outside now than it was back in camp," she added. "Come feel." Darcy didn't realize consciously that she was trying to push away from the discussion and grief of Kon's death by replacing it with discussion of impending new life.

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whenyouseered
2011-09-30 01:41 am UTC (link)

For a second, the weight of dark emotion that he had been carrying around for days lifted. Darcy had pulled his head down and kissed his forehead. One gesture. Just one and he felt like maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to find the strength to get through all this. At that, Clark did manage a small smile. It didn't linger for a very long time, but it was, without a doubt, the most genuine expression of warmth that he had been able to feel since Kon had died. Even after Darcy pulled away, just missing the tiny upward lift of his lips, Clark could still feel the memory of her lips against his skin. It was such a small thing, that kiss, yet it had been powerful enough to leave a rush of comforting warmth through his whole body that he wasn't familiar with in the slightest.

Next thing he knew, Darcy was crying. It had all happened so quickly, too. One second she was giving him comfort, the next Darcy was sitting on his couch, wiping at the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. Clark hesitated, slightly stunned at the unexpected turn of events, then went on to mentally kick himself. Of course she was crying. With everything going on here, why wouldn't she be upset? Kon was dead, the seal was pulling people all over the place and messing everyone up, then there was the apocalypse. That never-ending threat that loomed over their heads, always making them wonder when they'd have to fight for their lives. To have to deal with all that on a regular basis, plus a pregnancy, took a lot of determination and strength. It also took a lot out of a person, Clark imagined, and seeing him in bad shape probably wasn't helping Darcy much either.

She had every right to cry.

When he found his feet, Clark moved over to sit beside her on the couch. He wanted to reach out, to say something about the wave of tears that had fallen down her face, but instead he leaned over and put his hand to her stomach as she asked. Clark was quiet, but he was gentle. He didn't want to hurt her or the babies that he was supposed to be feeling out. Once his hand was in place, though he wasn't really sure where he was supposed to be feeling, Clark looked to Darcy worriedly. She had changed the subject on purpose, he knew, but he wasn't going to let her. As Clark tried to feel the movement underneath his palm, he opened his mouth, carefully considered his words, and then said, "You don't seem very good to me, Darcy. You should talk to me."

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total_milf
2011-09-30 02:01 am UTC (link)

Sniffing just once and letting out a soft huff, Darcy shook her head as Clark sat beside her and put a hand on her stomach, telling her what she already knew. For a moment, she ignored him, reaching for his other hand and placing it on her stomach as well. "Samuel Conner," she said softly, moving his right hand to the top of her stomach and pushing down on it enough to jostle the baby who she then felt kick back in response. Her eyes were on Clark's hands as she moved his left hand to the opposite side of her stomach and down toward her waist.

Finally, she looked back up at him as she prodded at the baby there with her own hand until it slid a foot up and down against Clark's palm. "Ethan Clark," she said, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she sniffed again and blinked back another round of tears. Almost as quickly as she felt the prickle of them threatening, the feeling was gone again. It took an effort to push away the wish that Clark was the father, half because she liked him so much and half because at least there would be a father that wouldn't be anywhere near as likely to abandon them.

Her eyes moved away then and she left her hands on top of Clark's as the babies shifted beneath them. "It's the hormones," she finally responded to Clark's original reaction to her tears. "Sometimes...I don't even know why I'm crying when I cry. Thing About Pregnancy I Don't Talk About But That You're Going To Learn, Number One," she replied. It was mostly true. Most of the time, she didn't know why she was crying. "I caught myself crying over a toilet paper commercial a few days ago, because the Golden Retriever puppies were so damn cute," she added for emphasis. This time, though, she did know. She just didn't necessarily want to tell Clark that, yet.

Darcy looked back up at Clark and smiled, although it didn't really reach her eyes. "Don't tell anybody the names, okay?" she asked quietly. "I heard it's bad luck to tell too many people. I just kind of wanted...I guess...to make sure it's okay...with you...?" she asked awkwardly. Partially, she was asking about Kon's name, even though Clark had already given her the go-ahead. The other part was asking permission for his. It flowed so nicely with Ethan's, after all, and she really wanted it, but if he said no because he wasn't comfortable with that, Darcy would survive. She'd think of something else.

Yes, Darcy knew she was avoiding the situation at hand and she was doing it on purpose. Clark had his own problems and she was here to help him through them, not bog him down with her own. "I really am okay," she insisted, at that thought, "as okay as I can be, anyway. It's really the hormones, mostly, I promise. You just...looked so sad and if a TP commercial can set me off..." she joked slightly, voice trailing off. "But I'll...I'm okay," she finished, correcting herself, lest Clark latch onto it and decide to use the I'll as ammunition to push further when he was supposed to be the one that needed to talk, not her.

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whenyouseered
2011-10-02 08:31 pm UTC (link)

Clark wasn't used to spending so much time with a pregnant woman, let alone hanging around long enough to be around for moments like this one. The tiny kicks at the palm of his hand through Darcy's stomach were strange to feel, yet knowing that it was through the efforts of children he'd soon be meeting brought the ghost of a smile flickering across his lips. It wouldn't be long before they were out here in the real world, flailing those little legs of theirs around in the air as their lives with their mother began.

Clark remembered Darcy saying that she was going to use Kon's name, so he was pretty quick to pick up where Conner came from when she announced the title she'd decided on for the first child she'd introduced him to. The next name, though, surprised him. Ethan Clark. He shifted a little next to Darcy, eyebrows rising upward in a stunned sort of way. Okay, he really hadn't seen that one coming. Clark kept his hand in place over her stomach for a long moment, then he pulled his hand away and dropped it into his lap, eyes immediately casting themselves downward as he did so. "I didn't -- I had no idea you were going to..." He paused, then looked back over at Darcy with a hint of unexpected warmth in his eyes. "It's more thank okay with me."

No one had ever named anything after him before. Of course, he wasn't the only person in the world who went by Clark, he was sure, but this was different. That boy was going to carry his name around because of him. Because Darcy wanted her son to have his name. Clark smiled lightly, then added, "I won't say anything to anyone. I promise."

When it came to the explanation behind her tears, Clark nodded. Hormones. He didn't know anything about all that, but he knew that they were common in pregnancies. He'd have to figure out a way to help Darcy cope with them if they were a regular thing. Though, admittedly, Clark found the idea of Darcy getting all up in arms over golden retriever puppies in a toilet paper commercial incredibly endearing. It wasn't every day you met someone who cried over toilet paper, pregnant or not.

"Note to self: initiate emergency evacuation action should any toilet paper puppies come within a twenty foot radius of one Darcy Rhone," Clark teased, hoping to slip into lighter territory, rather than the dark, gloomy area that they'd been trudging their way through before. Clark was still torn up and miserable on the inside, but there was no reason to drag Dracy into it. Besides, joking around and ignoring the problem seemed a whole lot easier than acknowledging it right about now.

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total_milf
2011-10-03 04:29 am UTC (link)

Darcy watched Clark's face carefully, trying to gauge his reaction. She was happy to see the small smile creeping across his lips. It was good to see Clark smile, especially since he was that much more attractive to her when he did. That wasn't, of course, to say that she found him unattractive otherwise, because she definitely didn't, but it was, never the less, a welcome reaction, as far as Darcy was concerned. "It's really cool, right?" she asked quietly, her lips turning upward in a smile of their own. "Being able to feel them in there, I mean. It's one thing to see that I'm a fucking cow, but totally another to feel them really moving."

The initial reaction to Baby B's new name wasn't exactly what Darcy was looking for and part of her deflated, wondering if he was going to turn down the request. It was one thing to name Baby A after Kon, but she wondered if she was treading too heavily by asking to use Clark's name for Baby B. When he pulled his hand away and looked down, Darcy opened her mouth to tell him that she didn't have to use the name if he didn't want her to.

But, before she could say a word, he looked back up at her and something in his eyes told her it was all right with him, after all. Then, he vocalized that thought and Darcy smiled brightly at him. "Yeah? I'm so glad. I've really been turning these names over in my head for a few weeks...well Ethan Clark and Samuel anyway; I hadn't thought of a middle name for Sam, until last week," she said, stalling out before continuing on to mention again how Kon had been keeping an eye out for her while Clark was away. This wasn't a moment that she wanted to bring down that way, that quickly, by any means. "Thank you," she added, chewing her bottom lip and going on smiling lightly through it. The gratitude was both toward Clark's giving permission and to his agreement not to tell anyone about the names she'd chosen.

When he made his joke at her expense, Darcy giggled slightly in response, looking back at him. "Good plan," she joked back. And just like that, the two of them had another in joke, this one a bit more personal than the others and in Darcy's old world, in jokes meant friendships. She liked that.

After a moment, Darcy's smile started to fade slightly as she looked back at him. She wasn't frowning, per se, just not smiling as brightly. She still had one hand on her stomach in Ethan's vicinity, but she reached her other hand up slowly to gently push Clark's hair back a little, away from his face. "You look so tired, sweetie..." she observed quietly. "I can see it in your eyes, I mean..." she added gently, so as not to offend him or make him think that she meant he looked awful, because Clark never looked awful to her. In fact, Clark always looked perfect in Darcy's eyes.

Her hand slid slowly down and lingered at Clark's jaw for a moment before she reluctantly let it fall away from his face entirely and back to her stomach. She didn't want to push him; she just wanted to know that she was there. There was an attempt of silent communication through Darcy's eyes to him in which she tried to tell him that it was okay to be exhausted; God knew she was. It was okay for him to be sad; she was, too, and she barely knew Kon. But mostly, what Darcy had tried to say without uttering a single word was that if he wanted to talk, she very much wanted to listen...and if he didn't, that was okay, too.

Taking a deep breath, Darcy moved her hands off her stomach again and rested them on either side of herself on the couch, preparing to push herself back to her feet. "Want me to make that tea, now...?" she offered, arching her eyebrows in question at him. Either way, she thought she might make it because she kind of needed it, but she thought it less rude to ask Clark if he wanted any, first, before just heading off to the kitchen of someone else's apartment.

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whenyouseered
2011-10-04 08:31 pm UTC (link)

"It's definitely different," Clark admitted with a nod. "Weird. Not a bad weird, I just -- it's not something you really get to experience every day? That kind of weird." Yeah, Clark. Go ahead and talk about Darcy's babies being weird. Perfect way to get into her good graces, that was. "You're not a cow," Clark added, nodding to her stomach. "You're pregnant." There. Improvement. An honest one, too. Clark didn't think that cows were meant to look as pretty as Darcy did, pregnant or not.

She seemed nervous about the name. Clark got why, but the name thing didn't bother him in the slightest. It was an honor. Clark was proud to know that Darcy cared for him enough to name one of her own children after him and, if he hadn't been sworn into silence on the subject, he'd have probably turned right on around and told everyone about it the first chance he got. "They're good names," Clark pointed out honestly. "Really. Though, to think, you could have gone for something alien like --" Kon. He paused. It took every bit of effort in him to keep his face from falling at the mistake he had almost made. "-- Jor-El." Jor-El was his father. Birth father. Dead birth father. Oddly, it didn't bother him as much to talk about him as it did Kon. That was probably because Clark only knew Jor-El through the enhanced system that he had installed into his fortress. Just a memory. "Now there's a catchy name. Not even a little peculiar, nope." He was still trying to lighten up the mood.

...the attempt didn't appear to be phasing Darcy as much as he wanted to, though. She reached up and pushed some of his hair from his eyes, an unexpected gesture that left Clark feeling warm all over again. There was a smile on her face, but it wasn't the cheerful one he'd been hoping for. It was almost sort of sad. He found he hated seeing that look on her face.

You look so tired, sweetie. I can see it in your eyes.

Her touches were comforting. Gentle. Clark wasn't used to that. He looked away, hoping to hide the exhaustion she'd noted from his gaze, and nodded. "Tea would be -- yeah. Thanks. Help yourself to anything you want in the kitchen. I don't have much, but I picked up a few things..." Speaking of. He needed to put the rest of that away. Clark pushed up and away from the couch, then he turned around and offered Darcy his hand so that he could help her back onto her feet as well. "I'll help."

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total_milf
2011-10-05 03:55 am UTC (link)

Smirking slightly, Darcy arched her eyebrows in playful offense and caught her bottom lip between her teeth again. She wanted to tease him and point out that he'd just called her babies weird, but she had a feeling that he would feel guilty and apologize when she didn't need an apology; she was amused. "Imagine how it feels for me," she pointed out.

With a soft sigh, Darcy shook her head. "Pregnant or not, I'm a cow," she said decisively. "Hopefully I can work it all back off and get my figure back, though. I used to be a hottie," she said wistfully, almost with a note of nostalgia. Darcy missed her waist. She missed all the cute clothes and stares from men when she walked by. Now, she still got stares, but it was from everyone, practically, and it was always at her stomach instead of her chest or her rear. It was kind of a bummer, if she was honest.

Besides, even the one person here that she really wanted to look at her like that — Clark — didn't. He looked at her, half the time, like she was made of glass and the other half like she was a big sister or something. He'd said that he liked her and he'd asked her out — even if they hadn't had a chance to go, yet — but he didn't look at her the way Dexter had; the way Marcus had. If she was honest with herself, it made her sad. She wondered if he ever would or if she would be forever doomed to suddenly being the girl someone liked for her personality alone. Darcy didn't like that because Darcy didn't understand that. She was trying and she certainly understood that she loved Clark's personality, for example, but she knew that, no matter how hard she worked to become a better person, she would still always find Clark physically attractive first and foremost. She supposed someone couldn't really fix being shallow.

Her smile brightened when Clark complimented her name choices. She'd thought very hard about them. Her smile faltered, though, when not only did he pause — which lent Darcy the idea that he had almost said Kon but had consciously stopped himself — but he followed up with Jor-El. Darcy didn't know who that person was, but the -El made her think of Kal-El and her stomach turned uncomfortably against the very idea. Instead of letting her distaste show, she prodded, allowing a small grin that didn't quite reach her eyes at the joke he'd made. "Who's that?" she asked, assuming it was someone that he knew.

When Clark looked away from her, Darcy tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked away too. The fleeting happiness that came from touching Clark's face sunk immediately when he broke eye contact. He was sending mixed signals. Clark said he liked her "a lot" but he shied away from her touch. Darcy was starting to think maybe coming here had been a better idea at the time than it was in practice.

But then he spoke and agreed to tea. Clark got up and Darcy started to push herself up as well when he offered his hand. Giving him a sheepish sort of smile and trying to ignore the way her cheeks got hot and pink at the offering, Darcy took his hand and felt the butterflies fluttering in her stomach in spite of the twins that were taking up so much space there. She let Clark pull her to her feet and for a moment, she didn't let go. Remembering the way he'd looked away, though, Darcy gave his hand a quick squeeze, nodding a thank you, and she moved toward the kitchen, one hand on her back for support as she waddled in that direction. "Okay, sounds good," she agreed to his offer to help.

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whenyouseered
2011-10-09 11:04 pm UTC (link)

Clark found that he wasn't a fan of sitting there and watching Darcy put herself down just because she was pregnant. Plenty of women got pregnant. It wasn't like this was all some big unknown for all of mankind. For Clark, maybe, because he wasn't used to being around someone that was pregnant, but not for the world in itself. Clark didn't think she looked like a cow at all and the fact that she was so easily calling herself one didn't really feel okay to him. “I know cows,” Clark pointed out, “raised on a farm, remember? I worked on the fields with them just as often as my dad did. I can tell you right now, Darcy Rhone, you are no cow.” He tried for a light, playful grin at that, as to keep himself from looking like more of a geek than he figured he already sounded. “I think you're pregnant. You're also extremely beautiful and, every time I hear you say otherwise, I'm just going to have to point it out to you over and over again until you get the picture.”

He had hoped that bringing up Jor-El would mostly fly over Darcy's head as a silly name she wouldn't think on too heavily, but she had taken the name in curiously. Not that it was a bad thing, it was just something that Clark hadn't exactly expected her to ask him about right then and there. He shrugged, then looked down at his hands thoughtfully. “Jor-El is my birth father,” he explained carefully, “he – before my planet was destroyed, he and my mother sent me away in a spaceship to earth. I never really got to know him, outside of the memory construct he built himself into.” Everyone had died. His parents, the people he might have been able to grow up with, the world that he'd never get to know. It was all gone, all because another race of beings had become so envious of their scientific advancements that they had decided they didn't want Krypton to exist anymore. They had wanted to be on top. The Kryptonians had prevented them from doing so and now they were all gone. Every last one of them, except for Clark. Krypton's last son.

Then the world had seen it fit to clone Clark with Lex Luthor. Kon had been created and for the first time ever, Clark had someone that he had been able to relate to. No longer was he the outsider looking in, trying to fit in with humans, trying to figure out just how he worked in a world that he was very much alien to. Kon had made everything better. Kon...

Clark didn't want to think about all that right now. He got up, helped Darcy into the kitchen, and started digging around inside of his cabinets for his tea kettle. Once he located it, Clark set it onto the counter and turned around. “Thank you for doing this,” Clark said again, “for coming out here tonight. You didn't have to and I'm sorry if I'm being a total pain, but...it's nice. Not having to sit through this alone. Gives me something more to do than sit on that couch and sulk with you here.” Clark stepped away from the counter and pulled out one of the chairs from underneath the kitchen table. He scooted it out, that way Darcy could sit while he got everything together. Apparently, in Clark's mind, Darcy making tea and him helping was actually Clark making tea and Darcy watching.

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total_milf
2011-10-09 11:28 pm UTC (link)

Darcy opened her mouth to protest to Clark's insistence but then she froze, save her jaw snapping shut again as she looked back at him. The wistful smile had gone and her eyes were prickling again, threatening tears. This time, at least, they were happy ones. "You really think I'm beautiful?" she asked.

She hadn't been told she was beautiful in a long time. Dexter had stopped saying it when the honeymoon phase of their courtship had been over with, seven years ago. She'd been called a lot of things from gorgeous to sexy and back again, but...it had been too close to a decade for Darcy's taste, since the last time someone had called her beautiful. It took a conscious effort for her to bite her tongue against tacking on, "even looking like this?" and making a gesture toward her stomach, but she was proud of herself for managing it.

A ghost of a smile slid over Darcy's lips. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, down low toward the corner of his mouth, and paused for a moment there. "I haven't heard that in nearly seven years; I hope you mean that," she whispered before pulling back to look him in the eye.

When Clark explained that Jor-El was his birth father, Darcy braced herself to hear things that one wouldn't normally hear when getting to know someone. Things like my planet, for example. It was going to take some getting used to, she was sure, but she'd learn. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely, once he'd finished his story. It was sad, she thought, that the only memories Clark had of his parents were some manufactured ones of his father.

"I wanted to, Clark; don't thank me," Darcy insisted as she leaned herself against the counter and watched him pulling out the accouterments of tea-making — some of which, she realized with a warming feeling, was hers left here the previous night. "You're not being a pain. I like spending time with you. I want to be here for you," she went on, insisting. She opened her mouth to continue when she noticed that Clark was pulling out a chair and, in spite of herself, Darcy laughed. "What are you doing?" she asked, grinning. "Are you making the tea when I said I would make tea?"

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whenyouseered
2011-10-10 04:55 am UTC (link)

She seemed surprised that anyone, let alone him, could call her beautiful. It made Clark wonder what kind of world she had come from, where the people that she cared for couldn't stop and tell her what he knew to be true. She was beautiful. It didn't matter that she was pregnant. There was something about her smile and the way she wore her hair and all the little things that she said to Clark, ranging from when he was upset to the jokes that they share, that made her seem like the most beautiful person in the world to him. To think that other people couldn't see that, or at least wouldn't acknowledge it every now and again, infuriated him. “Of course I really think you're beautiful,” Clark insisted, shifting over to look at her more closely. “I'd be crazy not to.”

Then she kissed him. Not on the mouth, no, but close. His heart skipped a beat and his entire body froze, then proceeded to melt. She was beautiful. He wanted to say it again. Clark wanted to tell her, then kiss her back. He wanted to show her how beautiful he thought she was.

He didn't. It was an emotional response. Too emotional. With everything that he was feeling now, mixed between grief and uncertainty, Clark didn't want to risk making things awkward with Darcy by taking that step. She might have ended up believing that he didn't mean it if he did. That if he had kissed her right then and there, that it was because he was upset and needed it for comfort, rather than anything else. Reaching up, Clark tugged at the collar of his shirt nervously. No kissing. That would be bad. “I did! I mean, I do. I do mean it. You are.” He turned back to search for the tea, face going red.

Tea second in line on the location front, Clark set it up beside the kettle and shot Darcy an amused look at her insistence that she was okay with being there with him right now. That look broadened just a little at her comment on the sudden turnabout as far as tea making was concerned. “Yup. I appear to be stealing your idea, Darcy. I'm making the tea.” He nodded to the chair. “Sit. Relax. You probably shouldn't be on your feet so much anyway, right?”

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total_milf
2011-10-10 05:46 am UTC (link)

Part of Darcy wanted to cry again. Clark insisted that he really thought she was beautiful, and not only that, but the way he'd said it — like it was common knowledge or something — made her all but melt right then and there. Darcy, for the first time in she couldn't actually remember how long, was rendered completely speechless.

For a second, Darcy thought he was going to kiss her and her heart fluttered in anticipation. When he didn't, though, her disappointment was softened significantly by Clark's body language. He looked...nervous. He looked like she felt. Clark stumbled his way through his response to her and turned away quickly, eliciting a bright smile that he completely missed upon its first appearance.

The smile widened even more and she had to ignore the tiny bit of guilt tugging at her, telling her it wasn't okay to smile that much; it wasn't okay to laugh, because they were supposed to be planning a funeral, not flirting. But, really, she'd come over to make Clark feel better, hadn't she? And she seemed to be unintentionally succeeding, didn't she? "Idea thief," she teased in a low voice as she attempted — and failed — to make her expression a serious one of disapproval.

With a little bit of hesitation, Darcy sat down in the chair. "I'm pregnant, Clark, not an invalid," she pointed out, although he wasn't exactly wrong. She probably shouldn't have been on her feet as much as she had been in the past few days. Darcy decided that these boys were it; no more, because being pregnant and chasing after Jo had been a little too much and Darcy didn't want a years long repeat. Her mind might change, she thought, under the right circumstances, but for now...Ethan and Sammy were the first and last of their kind as far as she was concerned.

Darcy wanted to keep the mood light. She hadn't seen Clark smile in days until tonight and she didn't want to lose that momentum. "You look sexy being all domestic, you know," she blurted out while trying to figure out a more playful way of saying that very thing. But, once it was said, it was said and so rather than look like the deer in headlights she felt she was being, Darcy gave a coy smirk and cocked her eyebrows just once before the smirk softened into another genuine smile.

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