Chloe still remembered the first time she fell in love with Wally West. He had flashed in front of her during an attempt at rooftop romance on their second date, and the look on his face when he turned around to see if she'd noticed, had stopped time for a breathless moment. Scared, sheepish--caught, like a guy she'd slept with once who'd been busted leaving the seat up on the toilet. When she had laughed at him, she had actually seen Wally exhale the breath he had been holding. Seeing vulnerability had always been her weakness.
So it made perfect sense that the second time she fell in love with him was when she'd stumbled out of bed in a tangle of pajamas and sheets to find him asleep and snoring on the sofa, a daughter tucked into the curve of each arm as they all slept off what had probably been another long night of never ending feedings, changings and ceaseless rocking.
Not that Chloe would know. Her amazing, wonderful, insane husband had let her sleep the night through and done it all himself. Yes, this was definitely being in love. Three weeks into being parents of twins and Chloe was embarrassed to admit that her ass was pretty much kicked on this one. She hated the word spunky, but everyone had always used it to describe her, and it was true, she did make it through a lot of crises with energy, will and wit, but twins had never made the Wall of Weird. They should have been there, front and center. Weird eating patterns, weird need to be naked that shifted without warning into a need to be clothed and bundled. Weird things in their diapers and weird blinky, slanted eyes. Twins didn't even run in her family, so it wasn't like she could ask for advice from matronly types that liked to come over, comment on the state of her house cleaning abilities and pinch the babies' cheeks until they woke up screaming.
Lois had managed to hold one of the girls for all of five minutes before handing her off and excusing herself, stepping out on the balcony to have a smoke to settle her nerves. Though Clark practically had to be forcibly removed from the apartment whenever he came by for a visit, Lex seemed curious, as if the twins were lab experiments to be studied. He wasn't allowed to touch them very much unless Wally was hovering protectively nearby. They remained largely on their own with their identical, demanding daughters and Chloe really had no idea how that happened, though she was going to take her mom and dad up on that offer to take the kids for a weekend in Smallville, really soon.
As soon as she could pry the girls away from their father. Pippin and Sylvia, their names were a compromise in a long history of a relationship full of them. Sylvia, in homage to Chloe's grandmother who had been the first Sullivan female to make front page headlines in a Kansas newspaper (but not the last), and Pippin for Wally's unnatural love for the Fellowship of the Ring and largely because Chloe still had no defenses when he begged earnestly. Not that their names mattered. Wally had called them Pixie and Stix since the first night in the hospital, and he seemed to be the only one who could tell them apart without checking the identifying letter written on the heel of each of their left feet, first. They had twins, and Chloe hadn't outright accused Wally since the announcement of two embryos was made in the doctor's office, but this mutation that gave two hyperactive adults two hyperactive children at once, was probably his fault.
Okay, she may have mentioned something like that in a fit of sleep deprivation psychosis last night before she demanded a thirty minute nap. A thirty minute nap that Mr. Wonderful had turned into a blissful night of uninterrupted sleep.
Sinking down at the foot of the sofa, Chloe curled her legs up under her and tugged Wally's bare feet into her lap, smoothing up the hem of his flannel pajama bottoms, she began a slow massage that would've made his toes curl, if he were awake. Hmm, maybe even in his sleep, she amended with a grin, as the toes curled reflexively beneath her touch. Poor toes. His feet took a lot of abuse, and Chloe doubted that anyone thought of the practical side of the superhero business. Mutated humans, yes, but humans still, and when Wally said his feet hurt from a day at the office, she had to wonder exactly how many times he'd circled the globe that day. Allowed to observe her husband at rest for change, Chloe took her fill of him.
It was inspiring. Old pajama bottoms that rode low on his narrow hips, shoulders broad enough for two babies to drool on comfortably, and strong enough to hold up to the dramas that came with being her husband. A dusting of hair across his chest that narrowed on a trail down to his navel, and she knew exactly how ticklish that could be when she took her turn on the playground of his lean, hard body. There was a heavy shadow of stubble on his long jaw and his mouth was still pressed to Pippin's brow in a formless, comforting kiss from when they had mutually passed out. With his hair sticking up at odd angles and an occasional nasal snore rumbling in the silence, he was the most beautiful man Chloe had ever seen.
The third time Chloe fell in love with Wally--okay, the five thousand four hundred and twenty second time she fell for her husband was when he opened sleepy blue eyes and came awake with a smile and low mumble. "Morning gorgeous."
So maybe the world didn't call him superman, but Chloe did.
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