Summary: A short two or three-part fluff piece following SR allowing Clark a chance for some R&R with his new, favorite little guy.

A/N – Many thanks to Mel (AlamoGirl) and Barb (htbthomas) for their beta-work, suggestions, patience, and encouragement on this one. This has just been a little "fluff" idea I've been slowly working on for awhile since delving into the SR genre of fanfiction. It was originally titled "Sick Day", but you may notice someone beat me to the punch with that title and a similar idea. No infringement upon that author's work is intended and while some elements may be similar, the styles are different (be sure to check it out, too!).

Accidental Nanny

Life in the bullpen did not pause simply because the weather turned inclement. With the changing weather patterns, employees of the Daily Planet found themselves plowing through driving rains and biting winds. The declining temperatures outside hovered in the mid-fifties, making the constant pelt of water against the high-rise windows seem unnaturally chilly.

Hidden behind stacks of files and printouts, Clark Kent surreptitiously removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. He jumped as the floor courier dumped another file on top of his already teetering pile, and shoved his lenses back onto his nose.

"Uh, thanks…thanks, Harvey!" he called after the already departing delivery boy, slumping into his chair. It was going to be another long day. The late nights were catching up with him, and he was still disastrously behind schedule between his extra-curricular activities and his unexpected, albeit relatively short, stint in the hospital a few weeks prior.

Across the room, he could hear Lois Lane typing furiously at her computer between phone interviews and calling out for spelling advice. Clark suppressed a sigh, a feeling of nostalgia sweeping over him. Despite the changes his absence had wrought, there was still a comfort in being there; a familiarity to the hustle and bustle that hinted at some sort of bizarre normality. Yes, despite all the changes, some things are still the same.

He trained his eyes upon his work; staring across the room and daydreaming would only hinder his progress. He had a responsibility to 'add some oomph' to otherwise lack-luster stories. Perry was never short of compliments with regard to Clark's writing; he simply had not yet let him tackle the truly big scoops since his return. Clark found he didn't mind so much; he was good at the mundane tasks and he could continue to remain covert while monitoring breaking news over the network of television screens stationed throughout the office.

An hour later, he was preparing to put the finishing touches on his draft of an article about the Metropolis Museum of Natural History's latest fossil acquisition.

"You gonna come up for air sometime this morning, Smallville?"

Clark's yelp and simultaneous leap back against his chair was impressive enough, but the shower of papers that resulted from him leaping to his feet only served to garner additional attention from others in the newsroom. "Uh—hi! Hi there, Lois. Good gracious, you really—you really shouldn't sneak up on me…like that."

Lois smirked, cocking an eyebrow in agreement. He is such a flighty thing, sometimes. "Yes, I see that. I'll try to warn you next time."

Clark cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets, a timid smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm sorry, here—" she offered awkwardly, then stretched out her hand to reveal a tall, covered cup of coffee. "Jimmy mentioned he saw you here again late last night. You sure are burning the candle at both ends, lately. I thought, maybe, you could…well…"

His eyes widened, his mouth forming a silent 'oh!' as he took the proffered cup. "Gee, that was really thoughtful of you, Lois…thank you," he replied, hastily raising the steaming liquid to his lips and taking a long drink.

Lois gasped in surprise. "Clark!"

"Yes?"

"That's…isn't that awfully hot?"

Clark gulped, nearly choking as he swallowed air with his mouthful of coffee. "I like it that way, thanks!" he squeaked out, setting the cup aside and stooping quickly to shuffle his scattered papers into a pile.

Lois stared at him incredulously as he scurried to clean up the mess at her feet. Okay, scratch flighty. Sometimes, Clark Kent is just plain odd…the thought was interrupted by the jangle of her cell phone in the depths of her purse. She found a spot to set her own cup down for a moment while she sought her phone, turning her body away to answer it.

Saved by the proverbial bell, Clark tried to ignore the blatant fact that, while scooping up papers, he had a fabulous view of Lois' legs. The papers suddenly became very interesting, indeed, until he caught the next snippet of her conversation.

"Oh, dear. How high?" He heard Lois murmur into her phone.

Clark chanced a glance upwards over the rim of his glasses in time to see Lois square her back to him and tuck her head in order to gain some modicum of privacy in the noisy space. Picking up his stack of papers, he tapped them against the floor and stood.

"I'll see what I can work out as soon as possible," Lois paused, reaching up to press her palm against her forehead, "Oh, yes…yes, put him on…Hi, baby…"

Clark shifted uncomfortably behind her, unnecessarily straightening his desk as he attempted not to eavesdrop. But the fact that he could hear an obviously distressed little boy on the other end of her phone inadvertently kept his fine-tuned hearing piqued. When she hung up, Clark made sure to look suitably engrossed in his notes.

"Everything okay?" he inquired gently, noting the fretful expression on her face. Lois chewed on her lip, running her hands through her hair before resting them on her hips. "What's that? Oh—" she waved dismissively. "That was the nurse at Jason's school. He's running a fever, and I need to go pick him up…" She did not notice the flicker of anxiety pass over his features as she continued, now threading her way through the maze of desks, "…but I don't know how I'm going to manage that. Richard left on assignment for Israel this morning, and I've got that press conference in New York for the UN's long-awaited stance on the Lebanon situation."

She stopped suddenly and Clark nearly plowed into her back when she whirled around again. He back-pedaled, hastily shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Lois…"

"I'll try my sister…wait. Oh, damn. She's on an 18-hour rotation…"

"Uh, Lois…?"

She stopped thinking aloud long enough to see that Clark had actually followed her to her desk and was clutching to his chest the same pile of papers he'd straightened earlier.

"I'm sorry…what was that, Clark?"

"Well, ah—" he swallowed. "I was just going to offer…I mean, I could—I could go pick up Jason for you. Uh, that is—if it would help, I mean…"

Lois stopped pacing about her desk and looked at him. Clark Kent, play nanny to a sick five-year old? Clumsy, jittery, meek little Clark Kent? She could not miss the press conference, and even though the news chopper was providing transit, it wasn't a suitable afternoon trip for her sick little boy. Richard was quite obviously unavailable and her sister would not be able to get off of work any time soon. She wondered if she had any other option.

"Oh, Clark," she sighed, dropping into her chair. "That's quite generous of you…but hardly fair. You have your own work to do, too…"

"Work I can take with me," he pointed out, suddenly straightening and meeting the gaze she had turned up to him. She vaguely wondered just why he was so keen on the job. "I really don't mind. I could use the change of pace. And," he added quickly, "It would help you out."

His smile was suddenly quite disarming, throwing her completely off-guard. She consciously scolded herself to close her mouth. "I don't know. I would hate for you to catch what he's got…"

Clark shrugged. "Eh, I'm not too concerned. I just don't get sick."

Lois' brow crinkled in thought. Come to think of it, Clark always was the one who pulled the extra weight when someone in the office called in, including herself. Other than his lengthy sabbatical, she rarely remembered him ever taking a day to himself.

"Well," she countered, "This is a kids' bug, and contrary to popular belief, they're a lot more potent than the grown-up ones. You may be immune to what floats around in here, Clark, but it's a whole different ballgame with children." She crossed her arms and shook her head. He continued to stand there, looking perfectly willing. "Are you sure about this?"

"You bet!" he responded with his usual gusto. "I'll just…I'll just go check out one of the Planet's laptops to take with me. You can jot down some directions for me."

Lois blinked and shook her head, flabbergasted. By the time Clark had returned from "the underground" (the Planet's affectionate term for its technology wing) and gathered his necessary materials, she had phoned the school to let them know Clark was coming, written directions to her home, and even jotted down the medication Jason would need.

"He can call me if he needs to—I'll have my cell phone on. Make sure he takes his Albuterol, that's the inhaler, every four hours. If he has trouble breathing, turn the shower on hot and have him sit in the bathroom for awhile. Oh, and if he's hungry, he's got a cabinet of food that is safe for him to have to the left of the microwave, and—"

"—Lois," Clark began, to no avail.

"—It's all right if he wants to watch television for a little while, but I imagine he'll just want to sleep—"

"Lois." Clark managed to cut her off effectively this time. "He's a little boy, not some piece of fine China. I promise," he added, reaching out to grasp her arm reassuringly. "I'll take good care of him."

She could have sworn the timbre of his voice dropped an octave with those last words, and finally looking back at him, she was surprised by his direct gaze and how positively intense it was. Have his eyes always been blue? She unexpectedly felt she needn't worry.

Lois smiled apologetically. "Of course. You're right, I'm sorry, Clark. I know you'll take good care of Jason, and thank you. You're a real life saver, you know that?"

If she had not averted her gaze to rip her scrawled notes from the steno pad, she would have noticed Clark had the grace to blush. He glanced down at the paper before grinning back at her and, turning, headed towards the elevator.

Lois watched him depart, feeling relieved. She could depend on Clark. Clark, who now held her note between his teeth and was shrugging into his overcoat while juggling his briefcase and laptop bag—and after managing that feat, tripped on absolutely nothing as he stumbled to catch the descending elevator. Lois groaned and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger.

On second thought, it was a good thing he was already on his way, or she just might have changed her mind.

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TBC