Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Idea suggested by Sarah (her proposed title was "Two Friends, One Delivery")
Sequel to Two Friends: Labor Day.
"I... am... pushing! Nothing's happening!"
"Sure it is. All right. Relax and wait for the doctor to tell you to push again, okay?"
"Relax? Are you kidding me? Do I look relaxed to you?"
"Well, maybe that was a poor choice of words..."
"Ya think? Trust me, there is nothing relaxing about lying here, waiting for the next wave of excruciating pain to come along."
"Sorry, Chlo. Okay, push again."
"Hang in there, sweetheart. Squeeze my hand as hard as you need to."
"I've changed... my mind. I want painkiller. Lots and lots of painkiller."
"It's too late for that, Chlo."
"No. You are not listening to me. Painkiller. Now. Or you never touch me again as long as you live."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. The doctor says it's too late. The baby is practically here."
"No, it's not. It's stuck or something. I feel like I've been doing this forever."
"You've actually only been pushing for about ten minutes."
"Ten minutes by your time. Ten years of hell by mine."
"Yeah, I get that, sweetheart. Okay, the doctor says to push again..."
"Oh, joy. Aaaarrrrggghhhhh!"
"Oh, my God! Chlo! You're doing it! There's a baby! There really is!"
"Oh, do tell. Unnnnhhhhh...!"
"Okay, Chloe. Okay. You can lie back and relax. Really relax, I mean. Do you hear that?"
"Is that... is that..."
"It's our baby, sweetheart."
"Oh, my God. Is it a boy or a girl?"
"It's a girl. Wait till Mom hears."
"Yeah, let the pink frills commence. Oh, wow... look at her. She's beautiful."
"Uh, I don't know about that. She's kind of red and wrinkly. Plus there's that funny waxy stuff all over her..."
"She's supposed to look that way, dumbass. Didn't you read any of the books I brought home?"
"Are you kidding me? The less I know about labor, the better I like it. When it comes to learning about blood and pain, ignorance is bliss, believe me."
"Wimp. Anyway, she looks just like she's supposed to. She'll be prettier once they clean all that stuff off her."
"Actually, she's already kind of cute. Look at how tiny her fingers are."
"And look. Her hair's dark, like yours."
"I think Mom mentioned that dark hair like this sometimes falls out. So she might turn out as blonde as her mommy."
"You never know, I guess. There's all sorts of possibilities locked away inside that little eight-pound body. I wonder if she got any of your abilities?"
"We probably won't know that for a long, long time. Oh, look, she opened her eyes. They're blue, but I think all babies have blue..."
"Oh, my God. Clark! The sheet just caught on fire!"
"It's okay. I put it out. It was just a little flame."
"But... but... did the baby...?"
"I think so, yeah."
"Oh. My. God."
"Calm down, Chlo. I guess that answers that question, anyway. She's got some of my powers."
"But you didn't develop your heat vision until you were sixteen! OhmyGodClark! How are we going to cope with a baby that shoots fire out of her eyes?"
"I'm not panicking! I'm freaking out!"
"Well, whatever you're doing, cut it out. You're a mom now, and you're supposed to take new things in stride."
"Sure. Normal new things. But this is not normal. I can just imagine myself talking to Martha on the phone. The baby learned to lift her head today! She said da-da! And she bench-pressed a Mack truck!"
"Chill, Chlo. I don't know how we're going to cope either. But somehow or other, we will. I guess we'll do like all new parents do. We'll figure it out."
"Other new parents figure out how to breastfeed and put on diapers and get the baby to sleep through the night, not how to prevent the house from bursting into flames!"
"Shhhh. Calm down, Chlo. We'll figure it out. She's beautiful and healthy, and that's what really matters."
"I guess so. Hey, look... her eyes are open, and nothing is catching on fire. Maybe it was just a one-time thing."
"She probably can't generate enough heat to do it very often."
"Well, that's reassuring. I think. Good thing you'll be the one staying home with her, Clark. It looks like the stay-at-home parent might need to be fireproof."
"Um... I honestly wasn't expecting anything like this. I guess I need to start reading some books after all. I'll sit down and read What to Expect the First Year tonight."
"I don't think there's anything in that book about heat vision, farmboy."
"Probably not. We're going to have to figure out how to deal with stuff like that on our own. Jesus, Chlo. I don't think I'm ready to be a father, let alone a father of a child with unearthly abilities."
"Relax? Are you serious?"
"Yes, I'm serious. Take it easy."
"How am I supposed to take it easy? My daughter is two minutes old, and already she can set fires with her eyes!"
"Now you're the one panicking. Take a deep breath, farmboy. Believe me, you're the best father this baby could possibly have. You'll do fine."
"Oh, God. I hope you're right."
"Of course I'm right. I'm always right. If you'd accept that simple truth, life would be easier for you."
"Okay, okay. You're always right. So things will work out... won't they?"
"Of course they will. Somehow things always work out for us. Let's make a pact, farmboy. No more panicking."
"Ha. That'll last till the first dirty diaper."
"Which you're going to cope with, by the way. Now hand me that baby, and let's see if she can figure out how to use the snack bar without setting Mommy on fire in the process."
"Uh, Chlo, maybe you shouldn't..."
"Of course I should. This is what mommies do. Don't worry about it. Her eyes are closed. And look, she figured it out already. She's a smart one."
"Just like her mommy."
"Yeah. She's part me and part you. And all her."
"Yes, she is. And that's all that really matters."