A new chapter! I'll half-heartedly apologize for the delay between updates. The other half of my heart is busy doing engineering homework.

As always, all of these scenarios are up for grabs to use in your own fiction, just be sure to tell me so I can read it!

Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy!


Spring had sprung in Metropolis. Flowers were blooming in planters, dogwoods perfuming Centennial Park, ginkgo trees leafing out in their small squares of soil in the sidewalks. The temperature had finally reached a steady seventy degrees. Some unfortunates were suffering from allergies, but Clark, ever invulnerable, was only suffering from a little spring fever. His apartment had already become victim to a dangerously super-speedy spring cleaning, and with the same vigor having been applied to both his jobs over the past few days, this day was shaping up to be slow. No, lackadaisical. No…pleasant. Winter seemed to have colored the city in shades of gray for so long, lack of activity had normally been a cause of cabin fever, but in this new world of color, sweet smells, and sunshine, an easy day was an enjoyable one.

A similar mood seemed to be prevalent among the other occupants of the newsroom, the relaxed atmosphere almost tangible upon exiting the elevator. The windows were open, few lights were on. The sun was allowed to do most of the lighting. All the temptations and distractions of spring, however, couldn't entirely tame the hustle and bustle of the bullpen of a major newspaper. Phones were ringing, keyboards clacking. The copier could be heard whirring in the next room. A light breeze from the window added to the entropy when it gently moved a few papers from their place on a desk to rest on the floor.

"Clark!" Lois' voice interrupted his observation, but didn't remove the pleased smile from his face. Clark turned towards the sound and raised an eyebrow to indicate she had his attention. "Come on, we're working in the conference room."

"On what?" he asked as he followed Lois' clicking footsteps.

"Perry's got us on the robbery of that summer academy," she spoke as she closed the door. "He got a tip that one of the sponsors may have been behind it, so we are going through the financial records and histories of the many individuals and companies who have ever donated more than five hundred dollars." She inclined her head towards the intimidating accumulation of folders and papers already collected on the conference room table. The stack in Lois' arms soon joined it.

"There was nothing more…" Clark struggled for an adjective.

"Exciting? Weighty? Worthy of our time?" Lois supplied. Her choices made it clear how she felt about the assignment. Clark's silence was taken as agreement. "No. Slow news day. Slow news week." She sighed as she sank into one of the hard wooden chairs scattered around the table. Clark followed suit and soon they were both up to their elbows in paper records.

Over time, the numbers started going blurry. Clark rubbed his eyes under his glasses, slightly irritated that he couldn't take them off. "Ugh!" Lois heaved the folders in her lap onto the table and stood up abruptly. "I need a mental break. I'm going to go make some phone calls to a few of these people, see if I can't get a more corporeal lead. You want me to bring some coffee back with me?" She paused with her hand on the door knob.

"Sure, sounds good." Clark stretched and sighed his answer in commiseration. Once Lois was safely at her desk, however, a short burst of super speed had Clark much farther along in his stack. He decided not to finish so that he'd have something to work on when Lois returned. In the meantime though, his eyes still felt dry and tired, and the sun beaming through the open window, warming his dark sport coat, had him both feeling like he'd just eaten Thanksgiving dinner, and as if he were wrapped in a warm blanket. Lois wouldn't be back for a while, he could tell by her conversation, and he didn't see any harm in relaxing for a little bit. He was way ahead of her in the paper records now, after all. So he propped his feet up on the table edge and leaned back until his shoulders were almost resting on the windowsill.

The dull roar of traffic outside and the laughter of children in the park soon lulled him into sleep. He dreamt of a hammock. The leaves of the trees above him glowed with the sunlight. He slowly drifted up out of the cradling net until he was floating among the clouds, the color of the sky only slighter lighter than the blue of his other suit.


The weather had Lois somewhat grumpy. Not because it was bad, but because it was beautiful outside. Instead of getting to enjoy it, chasing down some thrilling story, she was stuck inside going through financial records. Not long after she and Clark began, she started getting antsy. Her leg started bouncing, and shortly thereafter she could no longer tolerate sitting still. Tossing her work onto the table, she gave Clark an excuse and left the room. She had a couple of ideas about whom to call for more information, but nothing that would keep her very long.

Twenty minutes or so later, Lois found herself without reason to avoid the conference room any longer. She felt kind of guilty about leaving Clark to slog through by himself, so she put an extra sugar in his coffee before returning. Without spilling a drop she opened the door to the conference room holding both coffees, and nudged it closed with her foot. No one witnessed her feat, however, because her partner was asleep.

"Clark." She tried to wake him while she carefully placed the mugs among the precariously stacked papers. He didn't even stir. "Clark." She repeated slightly louder. Her patience was still running thin, despite her break, which may have been what prompted her to unbalance his chair instead of attempting a friendlier wake-up call. She expected him to start awake, arms flailing, until he could land the chair on all four legs again. According to physics that was a reasonable expectation. She wasn't expecting the chair to fall to the floor without its occupant, which is exactly what happened.

The aged wooden chair fell to the carpeted floor with a heavy, rattling thud, but not a sound sharp enough to wake Clark. She stood back for a moment to take in the scene before her. Clark, the average guy who was her partner, was almost horizontal, a good three or four feet above the floor, with only his feet in contact with any solid object. Sound asleep with a small smile on his face, his lack of amazement at his own position made it only more maddening. When Lois finally closed her mouth and shook her head, she realized that she wasn't the only one who would be able to see him. She quickly moved to pull the blinds down between the newsroom and theirs before returning to stand by the floating Clark. Or Superman; Superman being the only answer she could think of to the question of 'How?'. A quick peek between the buttons of his shirt confirmed her suspicions.

The liar. The no-good, but too-good, dirty, rotten, heroic liar. Experimentally, Lois pushed against his back and was only slightly further bewildered when he floated up easily, as if he weighed no more than the air on which he was resting. Somewhat amused, she pushed on his ribs, and had to suppress a giggle at the sight of him rotating about in the air, his sport coat and hair dangling off him. Her previous ire returned quickly, though, and she formulated a plan for revenge. Stopping Clark's slow barrel roll with one hand, she maneuvered him so that he was lined up with the open window. A gentle shove on his feet had him outside the building, and small tugs on his clothing kept him from getting far enough away from the wall to be noticed by passing pedestrians.

A well-aimed rubber band didn't even leave a red mark on his face. Of course, she remembered, Man of Steel, which meant that piping hot coffee wouldn't scald him. Lois promptly upended Clark's mug over his face and retreated to watch.

He woke up spluttering. "Whoa," he exclaimed when he noticed his proximity to the ground relative to where he'd fallen asleep. When he noticed Lois his eyes widened, and, with a decidedly un-super yelp, he dropped like a rock. A brief panicked moment passed as Lois hurried to look out the window, but the moment she reached the windowsill, he did too.

Clark's expression was mostly sheepish, but he had the gall to include a measure of sternness.

"Don't you give me that look!" Lois defended.

"Lois—"

"You're the one who was floating, for goodness' sake!"

"Lois—"

"I can't believe it. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"…Twitterpated?"


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