A/N: Hey to everyone who knows me and who don't that are reading this. I love Smallville as much as I love Dukes and so decided to give writing in this fandom a shot. This is a fluffy little one shot between 5 year old Clark and Jonathan and the night time bath rituals...provoking some memories for Jonathan. Hope you like it, please read and reveiw, let me know what you think. This is based on a role-play I did with the awsome Jordyn.

"No bath, No bath, No bath!"

"Clark you get back here!"

Martha turned from the sink just in time to see Clark dash into the living room, slipping deftly to the floor and sliding underneath the couch. She giggled as her flustered husband soon followed, looking around before looking helplessly to her. She smiled back, having relinquished control of looking after their wayward son to him for the day, after getting sick of hearing him complain he didn't spend enough time with his son.

She knew, of course, why he complained and she didn't mind it because of that. The relationship he had had with his own father was anything but perfect, Hiram had been a strict father who preferred not to show he cared for his son, or told him he loved him that often. She knew Jonathan didn't want his relationship with Clark to be that way, and she was proud of him for that. Pointing to the couch, she turned back to her washing up and smiled slightly as she heard the yelp of surprise from the little dark haired 5 year old boy.

Jonathan smiled gratefully to his wife, even if it was just to her back. He dropped to his knees with a grin and a 'Boo.', laughing as Clark yelped and tried to scramble back out from underneath it to run again.

"Clark...if ya take yer bath like a good boy you can have a cookie... no bath...no cookie…"

Jonathan sighed as Clark giggled and scrambled away from him further before he quickly grabbed his ankle and pulled Clark gently out from underneath the couch, grabbing him underneath the arms and listening to him squeal with joy as he swung him through the air.

"Not this time Clark, you're going for a bath young man."

Clark giggled, wriggling in his arms but Jonathan knew it was more playful wriggling than actually trying to escape. Fact of the matter was, Clark loved bath-time because it was a chance to get his parents soaked, that was inevitable. With the strength that Clark had it was impossible not to get wet when normal kiddie splashed seemed like tidal waves rising over the edge of the bath tub…so much so that they had taken to putting a plastic sheet on the floor when it was bath-time to protect the flooring.

But Jonathan didn't mind…granted he and Martha had both been a little freaked out when Clark's super human strength first emerged, so much so that they had seriously considered taking him to a lab to have him examined….so seriously that they had gotten to the front doors of the centre. But it was then that the attachment between the little boy and themselves became clear…Jonathan remembered it like it was yesterday as he looked now into the little boy's shining eyes.

They had reached the front door and Jonathan had held the door open for Martha to carry Clark inside…when he looked back and saw Martha not walking with him but stopped a fair way away, looking down at the sleeping little boy in her arms. He swallowed gently and made his way back over to her, whispering softly.

"Martha….we can't look after him until we know what we're dealing with…you know he's not human…"

Martha shook her head and looked up at him, tears shining in her beautiful brown eyes.

"But he's our son Jonathan…if we take him in there….god Jonathan…we'll never see him again…."

At that moment, Jonathan felt a pang in his heart as he looked down at the little boy himself, smiling slightly as Clark opened his eyes and smiled up at his parents, as he had done the first time he had encountered them. He reached over and gently stroked Clark's cheek with the back of his hand, gasping a little as the little boy reached up with his own small hand and as lightly as could be, took his father's forefinger in his, squeezing slightly as any normal little boy would…as if he knew what his powers could do to someone like Jonathan.

Martha watched the pair, sniffing quietly. How could Jonathan want to do this now? How could he want to give their son to a group of people who would only be interested in who he was and where he came from, not in looking after the little treasure that was the centre of her life with Jonathan now and teaching him to grow up in a world where he didn't belong. Both she and Jonathan had firm moral beliefs, and that included making everyone feel accepted no matter what their background was or what race they were….why should that be any different for a little boy who would feel, if raised by these people, used for scientific purposes only, unloved and made to feel like he didn't belong. It wasn't hard to imagine his little face, hurt and saddened, worn down by experiment after experiment just begging to be held, loved and comforted…and by the look on Jonathan's face as he stood looking at Clark, holding his little hand softly in return, she could tell he was seeing the same thing.

Jonathan swallowed gently as he took Clark from her arms and cuddled him close, whispering soft apologies that Clark didn't understand as he walked briskly back to the truck, and Martha knew she was driving. She slipped into the driver's seat and watched as Jonathan sat in the passenger seat, holding their little boy close to his chest and rocking him softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head…their father son relationship forged into a bond that would be, she was sure, unbreakable for many years to come.

And to this day, 2 years after they had found him, that memory still brought tears to his eyes….he couldn't believe he had nearly given this up just because he had been scared at the strength the little guy had. He was glad that Clark had showed him what he would be missing out on, and on occasions like this when he just played with Clark, he was grateful for that all over again.

Getting him to the bathroom, he quickly stripped his wriggling, giggling son and placed him into the warm water, ducking as the first thing Clark did was to splash his hands down hard on top of the bubbly liquid. A cascade of water hit the floor and Jonathan's head and Jonathan took the time to have a small chuckle before putting on as stern a face as he could and gently reprimanded his son.

"Clark…what have your mother and I told you about splashing that hard?"

Clark, in response, looked up and spat a little jet of water into his face, laughing as he pointed.

"Daddy wet!"

This time Jonathan couldn't help but laugh as he looked at the gleeful expression on his son's face and gently wiped the water from his face before picking up a flannel and starting to wash Clark down….when the next thing he knew a firm little hand had gripped his wrist and he was pulled unceremoniously into the water. Spluttering, he sat up, fully clothed in the bath, watching as his 5 year old son burst into peels of childish laughter and found it wasn't too long before he was joining in, shaking his head slightly.

"Daddy bath!"

Jonathan nodded as he picked up the flannel again and tried to wash the now wriggling boy down again, holding him as still as possible although the five year old's strength didn't exactly help that much.

"Uh huh, Daddy got a bath too didn't he Clark….and I wonder what mysterious little boy caused that…"

Clark grinned at him and shrugged his shoulders in childish innocence, a wide grin spread across his angelic looking face, which was ironic when he could be such a little devil sometimes. Being thrown into the deep end of parenthood had been daunting for both him and Martha, especially knowing they weren't just dealing with a normal child and to this very day the thought of going through what his father had gone through with him and more still scared the living daylights out of him. But, as he told Martha, they took it day by day, dealing with the new problems that arose the best way they could and prayed that whatever changes were to come, if any, would come later to at least try and help Clark to fit in as a normal person.

He looked up from his day dreaming as he felt the laps of water against his clothed skin get harder and noticed in panic that Clark was no where to be seen…but there were bubbles of water coming up from the space where he should have been. Without a second's hesitation he reached under and firmly grasped Clark's little arm, pulling him back to the surface, sighing and swallowing as Clark clapped his hands gleefully and yelled.

"Fun! Fun!"

Jonathan shook his head and sighed, pointing a finger firmly but shakily at him and speaking sternly.

"Son…don't you ever do that to me again!"

Upon seeing the smile slip from Clark's face, he instantly felt bad and sighed, slowing his breathing back down and looking to him, gentling his tone of voice and rubbing his arm softly.

"Clark…you scared Daddy…"

But he found he couldn't continue as the 5 year olds bottom lip quivered and his blue eyes started to swim with tears. With a gentle sigh he rinsed Clark off and lifted him out the bath, wrapping him in a towel before hugging him close and rocking him softly.

"It's alright Clarkie... I just was scared... I love you... I was scared you were hurt..."

Clark looked up sadly, sniffing and scrubbing at his eyes.

"I'm sorry Daddy…"

Smiling, Jonathan leant down and kissed his cheek before standing up with the little boy in his arms, carrying him to his room.

"It's ok son... let's go find you some jammies to wear..."

Clark said nothing, just resting in his father's comforting hold with his head on Jonathan's shoulder and his eyes drifting gently closed as the excitement wore down and he found he was more tired than he wanted to admit to his father. Still, Jonathan's gentle movements as he dried him off and gently tugged his pajamas on encourage the sleepiness further

Jonathan gathered Clark into his arms again and gently tucked him into bed, making sure the covers were wrapped warmly around him to protect from the cold air that sometimes circulated through the house at night. It wasn't very often, but when it did happen it wasn't a nice feeling at all. He smiled as his son gave a wide yawn and asked softly as he brushed the thick locks of hair from his forehead.

"What story you want tonight Clark?"

The soft mumbled reply was the same as it had been the past few nights for Martha apparently. Clark decided that he was bored with the bedtime books his parents had brought to read to him….and had started asking for made up stories.

"Daddy story…"

With a small sigh, having never been very good at telling made up stories…he decided to tell Clark a true, real life one that someday he hoped to be able to share with him when he was old enough to understand. But until that day, he would tell it as a story until Clark could start to understand what it meant.

"Not so long ago there was a man and he was married to a beautiful woman. The man and his wife wanted children very much...they prayed every night... God please...just let us have one child...please...just let us have a child... but they went years without having any children... They were very sad."

He watched as Clark's thumb went to his mouth and he snuggled a little bit more into Jonathan's side. The young boy had always been very attuned to other people's feelings more so than any normal human being, which according to the spaceship stashed in the storm cellar would be about right. He smiled softly and continued on, stroking the hair softly from Clark's eyes.

"One day there was a big meteor shower and a beautiful little boy just appeared to them out of nowhere. They loved him immediately... and he came to live with them forever... you know what his name was?"

By this time, Clark's eyes were closed but he still shook his head, sucking gently on his little thumb. Jonathan smiled and gently leant down to whisper in his ear.

"Clark Kent."

The little boy smiled sleepily as he drifted completely into sleep. Jonathan sat with him until he saw the thumb slip from his mouth, taking that as the sign that it was ok to leave. Standing up, he pressed a kiss to Clark's forehead and tucked him in warmer, running his hand once more through the dark hair as he whispered, creeping from the room, the words he had rarely ever got to hear as a kid but the words Clark heard every night as he fell asleep.

"I love you son..."