“Last item on the agenda.” Batman closes the file in front of him, signaling the end of this month’s Justice League meeting. “Superman will be on parental leave for the next twelve weeks. We are to call him only if absolutely necessary. The monitor schedule has been altered to accommodate.”
Predictably, chaos ensues.
“Wait, Blue’s on maternity leave? What the fuck?”
“When did he have a kid?”
“How did he have a kid?”
“You know, I thought he put on some weight. The suit looked a little tighter than usual, but I didn’t wanna say anything.”
“We didn’t throw him a baby shower or anything! Damn. Should we send a fruit basket? Or uh…do Kryptonians use breast pumps?”
The phone at the center of the conference table rings. Flash snorts with laughter and accepts a crisp twenty-dollar bill from Green Arrow. Green Lantern—Hal, not John, thank you very much—is half out of his seat laughing. Wonder Woman smiles knowingly and answers, putting the call on speaker.
“You are all terrible,” Superman grumbles in greeting. “Awful. The worst. None of you can be aunts or uncles anymore.”
“You would not know how awful we are if you had not been listening to the meeting, Kal,” Diana reasons. “And you cannot deprive my nephew of loving family members.”
As if on cue, there’s a tiny gurgle on the other line, followed by a series of snuffling noises.
“Yes, baby boy,” Clark coos. “That’s Auntie Diana talking about you.”
“How’s parenthood treating you?” Green Arrow grins mischievously. He’s probably going to say something stupid. “Feeling like a Super Dad?”
Collective groans. Flash passes his $20 back to Green Arrow.
“It’s good,” Clark laughs over the sound of happy baby screeches. “Lois went back to work today. She loved having those first three months with Jon, but she missed talking to people who could respond without drooling. So it’s just me and the gummy bear—yes, that’s you, you’re my gummy bear!—and we’ve had a pretty uneventful time so far. Little spit-up, a diaper blowout, walk to the park. Nothing big.”
“We have received no pictures,” J’onn points out. “This is very disappointing.”
A few moments of silence on the other end. Then, all the JL communicators in the room go off in unison. Batman immediately opens the message on the display in the center of the conference table.
It’s a selfie Clark must’ve taken at the park that day. He’s in civilian clothes, curls wild and windswept and oversized glasses on. There’s a chubby baby secured to his chest with a neatly tied red cloth—completely ordinary to anyone else, but easily identifiable as Superman’s signature red cape to anyone who’d ever examined it up close. The baby’s smiling up at Clark around one of his tiny, drool-covered hands.
“Precious,” J’onn says.
“So cute,” Flash gushes. “Look at the leg rolls!”
“Very chunky,” Batman agrees. “Very cute.”
More baby screeches on the other line, but they’re definitely not happy.
“Sorry, all,” Clark apologizes over the screaming. “It’s time for a nap. Can you say ‘bye-bye’ to the League, baby? Say ‘bye-bye.’”
The screech turns into full-blown crying just before the call disconnects.
“As I said,” Batman continues. “We are to call Superman only if necessary over the next twelve—“
“Hold on,” Flash interjects. “That doesn’t include the weekly group call I assume we’ll be having to see the baby, right?”
“Correct.”
