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Spring Cleaning
Author: AngelMamaKent
Pairing: Jonathan/Martha
Rating: PG
written in response to a Bucket Brigade challenge
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own the characters ... if I did, the Kents would have a lot more screen time
Summary: Spring Cleaning leads to mischief and flirtation between our favorite mom and dad as little Clark observes.
Jonathan climbed the stairs, intent on getting Clark up from his nap. There was no doubt in Jonathan’s mind that these days Clark’s naps were more a break for Mom and Dad than for Clark. At four years old, the extent of the little boy’s boundless energy still overwhelmed him and Martha at times.
Sure enough, when Jonathan opened the door to Clark’s room, he was already sitting up looking expectantly at the door.
“Can I get up now, Dad, please, can I? Are we going to help Mommy clean some more? I can help get the curtains down and wash the windows. Mommy said I could.”
Jonathan held back a laugh at the sight of his son almost bouncing on his bed in excitement.
“Yes, son, we’re going to help Mommy some more with the spring cleaning. Right now, she’s scrubbing some spots on the floor we missed mopping this morning. Let’s go see what she wants us to do next, okay?”
“Yea!”
Jonathan was knocked back by the force of this little ball of energy jumping into his arms.
“Whoa, Clark, give your old man a break here … not all of us got naps, you know?”
Chuckling, he ruffled his son’s hair, part of him still in awe at the fact that after so many years he actually held a son in his arms. As his thoughts drifted, Jonathan couldn’t help giving the boy a quick squeeze before setting him down and taking his hand to walk back downstairs with him.
The two approached the kitchen to find Martha on her knees, facing away from them and scrubbing away at what was obviously a difficult spot on the floor. So intent was she on her work that she didn’t notice their approach, and Jonathan couldn’t resist putting a finger to his lips to keep Clark quiet and taking the moment just to watch his wife. Her head was tilted, her hair tucked cutely behind one ear and cascading over her shoulder on the opposite side. The color of her hair had always reminded Jonathan of burning embers from the bonfires in his childhood, and its texture was like silk sliding through his fingers. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, and she was so focused she didn’t even realize she was biting her lower lip—a habit Jonathan found strangely endearing.
Feeling a tug on the bottom of his shirt, Jonathan looked down and saw Clark motioning him with the same finger to his lips that Jonathan had given him just moments before. Jonathan smiled at Clark, not noticing until too late the small gleam in his eyes. As if watching in slow motion, he saw Clark tiptoe up behind his mommy just as she was starting to get up from her position on the floor.
“BOO!”
Startled, Martha whirled and slipped on the wet floor, landing directly in the middle of the growing puddle of soapy water coming from the bucket she had taken down with her in her fall. Jonathan couldn’t help it; he burst out laughing at the picture in front of him. His son stood frozen in place, his eyes wide and his hand over his mouth, completely shocked at what he had just caused. His wife sat wet and bedraggled in an unladylike sprawl on the middle of what had been just moments earlier a freshly cleaned kitchen floor. Seeing the stunned expression on her face, Jonathan couldn’t resist teasing her just a little bit.
“You know, dear, if I had known you were going to bathe yourself as well, I could have just as easily grabbed the hose and given you and the kitchen a two for one special.”
“Oh, so you think this is funny, do you, Mr. Kent.”
Jonathan was so busy laughing, he missed the look Martha gave him right before the corner of her mouth quirked upward and she hurled the large wet sponge she had been using right at his head.
Smack!
Jonathan stood stunned in the corner of the kitchen as sudsy water trickled down the side of his face and began making tracks down his white cotton tee-shirt. Martha tried to hold it in, but the look of genuine surprise on Jonathan’s face proved her undoing, and she felt giggles rise up and begin to bubble out of her.
“Why you little minx…”
It took Martha only a second to notice the change in Jonathan’s eyes, and she scrambled backwards, slipping on the wet floor as she tried to get up. That tiny slip cost her, and before she could take another breath, Jonathan dove down and grabbed her around the middle, his fingers tickling just under her rib cage where she was most vulnerable.
“Stop it, Jonathan… Stop it.” She was laughing so hard now she could barely breathe.
“So you thought you had me, did you, Martha Kent. Well, two can play this game!”
And with that, Jonathan twisted her around so she was straddling his lap as they sat on the floor, her hands splaying across his chest—toned by years of working the family farm. Intuition took over as Martha ran her fingers down the wet tee-shirt clinging to her husband’s torso and took a deep breath, breathing him in—an intoxicating mix of sweat, Old Spice, and the wild outdoors. As their eyes locked, time seemed to freeze, and Jonathan was reminded of the first time he had looked into those eyes. She had walked across the central green at the university, and mere moments before she had spoken, her gaze had locked with his. He remembered asking himself if you could fall in love with a pair of eyes. Even now, years later, he found himself simply drowning in their depth without warning. His hand seemed to lift of its own accord, and he found himself gently tracing the graceful curve of his wife’s cheekbone with his fingers before slowly tilting his head down to brush his lips across her own.
Forgotten for the moment by his parents, Clark stood in the doorway to the kitchen with his head cocked to one side, watching his Mommy and Daddy. It had been a year and a half since he had come to live with them, and sometimes, he still couldn’t quite figure them out. He had thought it was so funny when Daddy started tickling Mommy that he had almost jumped in to join in the fray, but before he could, Mommy had fallen in Daddy’s lap and they both had gotten really quiet. The sudden change caught Clark off guard, and he stood there waiting to see what would happen next. He wasn’t scared … if anything, the sight of his mommy and daddy holding each other so close gave him this strange feeling of comfort and safety—kind of like when they cuddled him at night before tucking him into bed. A big smile slowly crept on Clark’s face at the thought of how easily that cuddling sometime led to his being tickled by his mommy and daddy, and an unanticipated giggle escaped from his lips.
The sound of Clark’s giggling gradually penetrated the fog surrounding Jonathan and Martha as they sat in their own little world on the kitchen floor, and they slowly broke apart. Jonathan watched as the dazed look slowly left Martha’s eyes and realization of where they were and what they were doing began to dawn. He had just caught sight of the blush working its way up her cheeks when she ducked her head into his chest, and he couldn’t help the grin that popped onto his face.
“See what you do to me, woman?”
He chuckled, and then dropping his voice lower for only his love to hear, he added… “What you do and will always do to me, forever.”
Tightening his arms around his wife, Jonathan looked up at his still grinning son and couldn’t help but think… This is the way it is supposed to be. These two people hold my whole world in their hands, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. And with that thought, he stretched his left arm out to Clark and caught him as he ran straight into his dad’s embrace. Cleaning could wait. In his arms he held his two greatest loves, and Jonathan was content to just hold them a little while longer.
The End
Author: AngelMamaKent
Pairing: Jonathan/Martha
Rating: PG
written in response to a Bucket Brigade challenge
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own the characters ... if I did, the Kents would have a lot more screen time
Summary: Spring Cleaning leads to mischief and flirtation between our favorite mom and dad as little Clark observes.
Jonathan climbed the stairs, intent on getting Clark up from his nap. There was no doubt in Jonathan’s mind that these days Clark’s naps were more a break for Mom and Dad than for Clark. At four years old, the extent of the little boy’s boundless energy still overwhelmed him and Martha at times.
Sure enough, when Jonathan opened the door to Clark’s room, he was already sitting up looking expectantly at the door.
“Can I get up now, Dad, please, can I? Are we going to help Mommy clean some more? I can help get the curtains down and wash the windows. Mommy said I could.”
Jonathan held back a laugh at the sight of his son almost bouncing on his bed in excitement.
“Yes, son, we’re going to help Mommy some more with the spring cleaning. Right now, she’s scrubbing some spots on the floor we missed mopping this morning. Let’s go see what she wants us to do next, okay?”
“Yea!”
Jonathan was knocked back by the force of this little ball of energy jumping into his arms.
“Whoa, Clark, give your old man a break here … not all of us got naps, you know?”
Chuckling, he ruffled his son’s hair, part of him still in awe at the fact that after so many years he actually held a son in his arms. As his thoughts drifted, Jonathan couldn’t help giving the boy a quick squeeze before setting him down and taking his hand to walk back downstairs with him.
The two approached the kitchen to find Martha on her knees, facing away from them and scrubbing away at what was obviously a difficult spot on the floor. So intent was she on her work that she didn’t notice their approach, and Jonathan couldn’t resist putting a finger to his lips to keep Clark quiet and taking the moment just to watch his wife. Her head was tilted, her hair tucked cutely behind one ear and cascading over her shoulder on the opposite side. The color of her hair had always reminded Jonathan of burning embers from the bonfires in his childhood, and its texture was like silk sliding through his fingers. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, and she was so focused she didn’t even realize she was biting her lower lip—a habit Jonathan found strangely endearing.
Feeling a tug on the bottom of his shirt, Jonathan looked down and saw Clark motioning him with the same finger to his lips that Jonathan had given him just moments before. Jonathan smiled at Clark, not noticing until too late the small gleam in his eyes. As if watching in slow motion, he saw Clark tiptoe up behind his mommy just as she was starting to get up from her position on the floor.
“BOO!”
Startled, Martha whirled and slipped on the wet floor, landing directly in the middle of the growing puddle of soapy water coming from the bucket she had taken down with her in her fall. Jonathan couldn’t help it; he burst out laughing at the picture in front of him. His son stood frozen in place, his eyes wide and his hand over his mouth, completely shocked at what he had just caused. His wife sat wet and bedraggled in an unladylike sprawl on the middle of what had been just moments earlier a freshly cleaned kitchen floor. Seeing the stunned expression on her face, Jonathan couldn’t resist teasing her just a little bit.
“You know, dear, if I had known you were going to bathe yourself as well, I could have just as easily grabbed the hose and given you and the kitchen a two for one special.”
“Oh, so you think this is funny, do you, Mr. Kent.”
Jonathan was so busy laughing, he missed the look Martha gave him right before the corner of her mouth quirked upward and she hurled the large wet sponge she had been using right at his head.
Smack!
Jonathan stood stunned in the corner of the kitchen as sudsy water trickled down the side of his face and began making tracks down his white cotton tee-shirt. Martha tried to hold it in, but the look of genuine surprise on Jonathan’s face proved her undoing, and she felt giggles rise up and begin to bubble out of her.
“Why you little minx…”
It took Martha only a second to notice the change in Jonathan’s eyes, and she scrambled backwards, slipping on the wet floor as she tried to get up. That tiny slip cost her, and before she could take another breath, Jonathan dove down and grabbed her around the middle, his fingers tickling just under her rib cage where she was most vulnerable.
“Stop it, Jonathan… Stop it.” She was laughing so hard now she could barely breathe.
“So you thought you had me, did you, Martha Kent. Well, two can play this game!”
And with that, Jonathan twisted her around so she was straddling his lap as they sat on the floor, her hands splaying across his chest—toned by years of working the family farm. Intuition took over as Martha ran her fingers down the wet tee-shirt clinging to her husband’s torso and took a deep breath, breathing him in—an intoxicating mix of sweat, Old Spice, and the wild outdoors. As their eyes locked, time seemed to freeze, and Jonathan was reminded of the first time he had looked into those eyes. She had walked across the central green at the university, and mere moments before she had spoken, her gaze had locked with his. He remembered asking himself if you could fall in love with a pair of eyes. Even now, years later, he found himself simply drowning in their depth without warning. His hand seemed to lift of its own accord, and he found himself gently tracing the graceful curve of his wife’s cheekbone with his fingers before slowly tilting his head down to brush his lips across her own.
Forgotten for the moment by his parents, Clark stood in the doorway to the kitchen with his head cocked to one side, watching his Mommy and Daddy. It had been a year and a half since he had come to live with them, and sometimes, he still couldn’t quite figure them out. He had thought it was so funny when Daddy started tickling Mommy that he had almost jumped in to join in the fray, but before he could, Mommy had fallen in Daddy’s lap and they both had gotten really quiet. The sudden change caught Clark off guard, and he stood there waiting to see what would happen next. He wasn’t scared … if anything, the sight of his mommy and daddy holding each other so close gave him this strange feeling of comfort and safety—kind of like when they cuddled him at night before tucking him into bed. A big smile slowly crept on Clark’s face at the thought of how easily that cuddling sometime led to his being tickled by his mommy and daddy, and an unanticipated giggle escaped from his lips.
The sound of Clark’s giggling gradually penetrated the fog surrounding Jonathan and Martha as they sat in their own little world on the kitchen floor, and they slowly broke apart. Jonathan watched as the dazed look slowly left Martha’s eyes and realization of where they were and what they were doing began to dawn. He had just caught sight of the blush working its way up her cheeks when she ducked her head into his chest, and he couldn’t help the grin that popped onto his face.
“See what you do to me, woman?”
He chuckled, and then dropping his voice lower for only his love to hear, he added… “What you do and will always do to me, forever.”
Tightening his arms around his wife, Jonathan looked up at his still grinning son and couldn’t help but think… This is the way it is supposed to be. These two people hold my whole world in their hands, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. And with that thought, he stretched his left arm out to Clark and caught him as he ran straight into his dad’s embrace. Cleaning could wait. In his arms he held his two greatest loves, and Jonathan was content to just hold them a little while longer.
The End
How can we draw people in here -- short of writing NC-17 J/M stories, which I think most of us don't care for anyway?
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