Sparks Fly
A DC fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon
DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Superman, Livewire, Batman and all other characters and worlds are the property of Warner Brothers and DC Comics. Please support the official release.
It wasn't like Leslie didn't appreciate the magnitude of Superman's appearance. Far from it: She had months worth of material to work with. Letting people call in to talk about what they thought of the appearance of the Man of Steel.
Like this little old lady who was happily chattering away about the good old days of World War II and the old superheroes back then.
"The Blackhawks were all so handsome! Especially that Olaf, what a dream! Gotta say, I spent many a night sitting on the conveyor belt engine to sooth my womanly aches, don't you know...!"
One who was, quite frankly, like a train wreck: Someone Leslie desperately wanted to stop listening to, but couldn't.
"Uh huh," Leslie managed.
"And that Spysmasher and Uncle Sam! Oh! I had a few group sessions with Mabel on the turbines when they were out of synch! Course, they nearly gave out but the vibrations also had some shocks which-"
"Annnnd I'll let you save the rest of that for Penthouse. An ancient Penthouse," Leslie said. "Bye!" She switched to another caller. "Caller, you're on the air. Tell me you're not a horny old lady."
"Would that help?" Asked the man on the other side of the line. Leslie rolled her eyes, but the ratings (according to Lenny's happy gesticulations) seemed to be gold. So she continued.
"Maybe I should start advertising for turbines," she said dryly. "Anyway, you sound old."
"That's cause I am. Veteran of the Second World World, Sgt Franklin Rock, miss," he replied.
"You want the number of the last lady? Because you might be her type," Leslie snarked. The old man chuckled.
"Nope. Just wanted to say, Superman is all right by me. It's nice to see an old fashioned hero in a cape out and about, doing what needs to be done."
"Even if he's an alien?" Leslie said wryly. "He might be some kind of squid creature in a human suit, just waiting to find some innocent women to knock her up with chestbursters."
"... And you cut off the last caller?" The old man said dryly. "Seems like you could use a turbine yourself, young lady."
"I do the jokes, Grandpa," Leslie replied, smirking a bit. She found herself liking the old guy. "Anyway, the capes back in the 40s were all normal men and women... Well Uncle Sam might have been magic. That's always been ambiguous. Now we have some kind of super powered alien flying around, doing interviews, fighting robots. He seems good-Too good to be true. And that's the thing: No matter how good someone might seem, they've got their own dark side! The brighter the picture, the darker the negative."
"I don't disagree he's probably not perfect," the old man said. "Ain't nobody who is. But if you had that much power, what good would it do to rule the world? You're already so strong... So why not help the world?"
"Men with power always want more," Leslie replied. "It's the same story for every human being on the planet. What makes you think he won't turn on us? He basically has the Daily Planet as his own PR firm!"
"My generation was facing the greatest threat the world has ever known," Sgt. Rock said, "And we weren't even half as cynical as you kids."
Leslie snorted. "No disrespect, Gramps, but your generation raised the Baby Boomers. Fat lot of good that did the world."
"Everyone makes mistakes," Rock replied. Leslie snickered. It was rare she got two such entertaining callers in a row.
"Well at least you admit it. That's all the time we have for tonight, Wireheads! Now keep your eyes open. Sure, it's nice to have a cape around but we've seen plenty of good... And bad ones too. Guess we'll be seeing if Superman is a time bomb. Tune in tomorrow, same channel, at WMTS Swan Tower for LIVEWIRE! Signing off!"
The lights went out, and she pulled her headphones off. She sighed, and rubbed her temples as she pushed her glasses up. Lenny walked into the soundbooth with a grin.
"Ratings gold, Leslie! We're looking great! Almost 130% more listeners when you got onto the topic of Superman!"
Leslie groaned. "I'm not gonna have to talk to more horny old women, am I?"
"That was hilarious," Lenny said cheerfully. An intern was still looking green in the back office. Leslie snickered-It was still funny, yeah. With some distance.
And speaking of which...
"I'm getting some coffee," she said. She stood up and set her headphones down on her desk. "Feel free to grab more literature on Spy Smasher and Uncle Sam for next time."
"Absolutely!" Lenny said happily. "We can totally-!"
"Non-erotic," she emphasized as she leaned back in through the open door. Lenny huffed.
"Howard Stern had a topless chick catching hotdogs in her mouth!"
"It's fucking radio!" Leslie exclaimed, rolling her eyes as she headed out. She went down the stairs, out the tower, and right across the street to her favorite coffee shop in walking distance. It was called Eisner's, and it was mercifully empty. She slammed down her cash and smiled at the tattooed barista.
"Double espresso latte, half decaf, medium foam, with a dusting of Dutch chocolate," she ordered. The barista nodded, and turned to the coffee machines. She sighed and leaned back, stretching her arms up over her head. Leslie felt her neck pop, and smiled. That felt very good.
"Here you go," the barista said, handing over the latte. Leslie beamed, her precious how within reach. She turned... And slammed right into a large, tall man. Her balance was lost, and she fell backwards.
"Holy fuc-!"
And strong arms were now around her. She looked up, in shock... And recognition.
"Kent?" She asked. Clark raised an eyebrow.
"Trouble with balance, Miss Willis?" He asked. Leslie managed to control her blush, and smirked back.
"Maybe I'm just giving my listeners what they want," she said. "You seem to like holding women in your arms."
Clark quickly got her up to her feet, and let her go. She was gratified to see he adjusted his necktie with a mild blush. Leslie smirked, holding her latte between her hands.
"So... What brings you into the coffee shop?"
Stupid! Her brain immediately bellowed at her. Clark smiled back and shrugged.
"Just some coffee. We're on the trail of an interesting case," he said. Leslie raised an eyebrow.
"A case? You're a PI?"
"No," Clark said, adjusting his glasses, "a reporter."
Leslie smiled. "Really? A guy built like you?"
Clark returned the smile, clearly liking it. And Leslie liked it too. More than she would admit, of course.
"I like to use my brain a bit more than my fists," he admitted. Leslie hummed, and took hold of his hand. She turned it over and studied his fingertips.
"You? With those calluses?" She asked. "Let me guess, grew up on a farm? Up at the crack of dawn to milk the cows?"
"Actually, yes," Clark said with a smile, gently pulling his hand away. Leslie raised her eyebrows.
"Wow, I wasn't even serious. Nice to know my observational skills are still intact," she replied. Clark nodded. She sucked in a deep breath.
"So... I mean, a farm. What's that like?" She asked. Clark shrugged back, sipping his coffee.
"There's... Not much to tell," he said. Leslie let herself grin, and stepped closer.
"Oh, now I'm gonna have to wheedle it out of you," she said. "Like, say, over a coffee-?"
"Hey Smallville!" A woman's voice broke between them. Leslie looked over, and saw... Lois Lane? Of all people?
Lois glared. "We're on the clock, hayseed. Come on, don't you farm boys know the value of time?"
Clark gave Lois a friendly, if somewhat indulgent smile. "We also know the value of manners," he teased back. He nodded to Leslie. "Lois Lane, Leslie Willis. Leslie Willis, Lois Lane."
"Yeah, I'm familiar," Leslie said dryly. Lois raised her own elegant eyebrow.
"Same here," she said coolly. The two women sized each other up. Lois in particular looked intently at the distance between them. The female reporter snorted.
"I didn't know you two were... Friends," Lois said dryly. Leslie scooted up against Clark, pressing her shoulder against his.
"Yeah. He saved my life," Leslie said. "No superpowers required."
"Well... Good for both of you," Lois said tightly. "If you're done flirting with the shock jock, Smallville, shall we get going? We've got a job to do." She glanced at Leslie. "Unless you'd like to ask Willis to the farmhouse hoe down? I can get the scoop, you get disappointed at the end of the night."
"Let's go," Clark said. He gave Leslie a smile. "I'll see you around, Miss Willis."
"Leslie," she insisted. "It's what I want friends to call me." She smiled with a bit of warmth in her eyes. Clark smiled back, the same warmth in his.
"Leslie then," he said.
"Come on!" Lane stated, taking Clark's arm and practically dragging him out the front doors of the coffee shop. Leslie watched them go, her coffee cooling in her tightening hands.
... Smallville's my nickname for him, you hag, she thought.
Enjoy some more!
