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.


Metro-Con was one of the biggest pop culture related events in the North East, growing from a small one room convention in the 1960s into the Ordway Convention Center's fifty thousand people capacity. The huge facility was filled to bursting with vendors, cosplayers, writers, artists, radio jockeys and families just out to join the fun.

Leslie Willis was standing at a comic book booth, flipping through the longbox for anything interesting. She sighed, making a face at the selection.

"Well, looks like the comic industry is burning itself to the ground," Leslie huffed. "Even I feel like it would be mean to pick on them."

"Tell me about it," the booth tender sighed, an old man with a bushy beard and a US Navy cap. "Manga's been the only thing that's been selling. Only thing worth reading, too." He smiled. "Then again, with Superman around, maybe that'll change!"

Leslie snorted. "Savior of the comic book industry? That'll be the day," she scoffed.

"Hm?"

Leslie tensed up, the voice familiar. She turned her head, and saw the tall, broad shouldered form of Clark Kent. He was in his usual blue suit and red tie, a con badge attached to his lapel. Leslie's jaw dropped. Clark looked her up and down briefly, and he blushed slightly.

"Ah… Hello again, Miss Willis," he said. His brief embarrassment centered Leslie, as she raised an eyebrow.

"Thought I told you to call me 'Leslie'," she said.

Her Sailor Jupiter costume was skin tight, hugging every inch of her body. Her short green skirt shuffled a bit as she rested a hand on her hip.

"Also, how could you tell it was me?" She gestured to her brown wig that was perfectly fitted, tied in the proper ponytail behind the tiara her brow bore. Her glasses were gone, her pupils green thanks to her contacts.

"What, do you have X-Ray Vision?" She asked mockingly, stamping one of her green booted feet. Clark coughed, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Uh no! I just recognized your, uh…"

Leslie's eyebrows rose… Then she smirked saucily.

"You recognized my rack, didn't you?" She gestured to her sizable bosom. She wasn't some wispy stick figure like Darby: She was compact, but had thick curves from working out and her mom's genetics. With strong, well formed legs.

Much to her surprise, Clark looked right at her. His eyes locking onto hers. He gave her a small, honest smile.

"Uh… More the general geography," he said. Leslie, impressed, smiled a bit more genuinely at the reporter.

"Nice," she said, resisting the urge to preen in front of him. She shook her head. They began walking away from the booth, into the stream of chattering con goers. Leslie kept pace easily, and stayed close to his tall form.

"So! You get demoted or something? Don't you usually cover political scandals and crimes?" Leslie asked curiously.

Clark smiled back at her, shrugging a bit. "Reporting on some fluff is good from time to time. It lets me learn more about this city and its inhabitants. Speaking of, Sailor Jupiter? A Defender of Justice?"

Leslie chuckled. "Did you check that on Wikipedia?"

"No," Clark said.

"Well now I'm a little more impressed," she said. "I didn't think they had anime out in Smallville."

Clark smiled wryly. "You'd be surprised," he answered, "but you? The cynical, hard hitting shock jockey?"

They strayed into the video game alley, where numerous indie game developers plied their wares alongside booths from bigger game developers. In the center, there was a retro-style arcade set up with dozens of old style video game cabinets.

Leslie shrugged, feeling a bit shy as she looked ahead.

"Well," she said, "my mom worked at a used book, video and CD store. The manager let me stay there, pretty much from when I was born. I grew up on shelves of old comics, manga, and a lot of bad movies." She smiled with a bit of wistfulness.

"He'd take us to this convention and others to make more money, and I helped out. Even worked as a booth babe when these," she gestured to her body, and mentally enjoyed Clark's slight flush, "came in. It's a lot of fun, pretending to be someone else with a lot of other nerds."

Clark smiled gently. "It is nice to be able to blend into a crowd," he said, and she got the feeling that he really, truly understood. She shook her head, her defenses coming back online.

"So," Leslie said, stopping Clark with her gloved hand against his broad chest, "I'm not going to see any of this in the Daily Planet, right?"

The fear that he would ruin everything, her last little isolated section of her life...

Clark shook his head, his face earnest. "No," he said, "after all, we're friends. And I want things to stay that way."

Leslie grinned. "Good," she said. A loud cheer erupted from a small crowd, and they both looked over at the source: A group of various people around a brightly glowing videogame console. It was blaring loud Japanese pop music, as two players danced frantically on brightly glowing keypad platforms. She snorted, crossing her arms under her chest.

"Dance Dance Revolution," she laughed. "God, that corny thing is still around. Makes me feel old."

"Your store had one, didn't it? One you used all the time," Clark asked, smiling warmly. Leslie huffed a bit, and looked aside. He was sharp, damnit. It made her heart beat faster.

"Yeah," she said. "I couldn't afford to go to the gym until after college, so that was good exercise! Even nerds needed to get some cardio." She smirked. "It's a lot less boring that running through tires or whatever you did, Mister National High School Championships."

"How did-?" Clark started, and Leslie's grin grew.

"You're not the only one who can investigate people," she pointed out. Clark relaxed a bit, and smiled back.

"Well… I like to think it was a bit more effective at developing reflexes," he replied. Leslie raised her eyebrows and chuckled.

"Oh ho?" Leslie asked. "Sounds like a challenge."

"Does it?" Clark replied. "I thought it was corny?"

Leslie grabbed his forearm, and inwardly was very pleased when he leaned in a bit.

"I've got a farmboy with me, corny works," she insisted. "Now come on: I'm going to kick your ass and you're going to enjoy it!"

Clark smirked slightly as he let Leslie pull him along to the machine. "You're the boss," he said.

"You're damn right," Leslie chuckled, "I'm the Goddess of Thunder! You'd better remember that!"


Enjoy some more!