(no subject)

"I'm sorry. What?"

Eirene eyes the doctor, wondering why she agreed to come in on a Sunday and be poked and prodded for an hour. It's not like she doesn't have better things to do, like learning how to live as a human, or run decidedly unhuman-like errands by checking in on several hot spots around the globe. But this.

This takes the cake.

"Mrs. Kent, I'm afraid that you're progressing at a more rapid pace than expected. The fetus is exhibiting the growth and development of a woman entering her seventh month." The doctor looks fairly apologetic, though she's not sure if that's because he really is, or he actually believes that she'll turn him into something inanimate in revenge.

Fingers lift to pinch the bridge of her nose, a soft sigh following soon after. "Are you absolutely sure." Eirene's stomach clenches at the affirmative nod. "Yes, ma'am. I'm going to recommend as much rest as possible until after she's born, Mrs. Kent." It's a credit to STAR labs that the medical professional does not blanch at the glare she does shoot him. "Clark's not going to be happy."

It's her mantra all the way back home.