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.


Leslie had tried very hard not to be clingy. That was the last thing she wanted to be to Clark. After all, he had his own life and so did she. And to keep the paparazzi from ruining his life, she would have to exercise some caution and restraint when it came to physically seeing him. Naturally, he was very busy keeping up with the most voracious newshound the city had ever seen and investigating stuff that could be dangerous, so he didn't need her just dropping in on him all the time. That was just the reality of the situation.

Leslie was extremely proud of herself for not just going nuts and doing anything crazy. Anything strange. Anything borderline illegal...

But the last couple of weeks, Clark had been looking really down. Like he was sick, stressed out-Probably both, really. So she decided there was really only one way to cheer him up.

The door to his bedroom opened. Leslie blinked. Funny, she hadn't heard him use the front door. No matter!

She affixed her most sultry, come hither look to her face. She stretched out on his bed, dressed in the sluttiest lingerie she had been able to find: A dark red sheer nightie over matching bra, panties, stockings and garter belt. She pouted with her matching lipstick as she saw him reach for the light, and switch it on.

"Hey sweetie," she said in a voice dripping with sex, "what took you so-The fuck?!" Leslie dropped her sex kitten persona and sat up in alarm. Clark smiled at her, looking haggard and worn.

"Hey babe," he managed weakly, as though speaking was difficult for him. He was hunched over, his skin pale and his forehead clammy. Leslie got up onto her ridiculously high, pointy heels... And immediately fell over.

"Oh shit-!"

Clark moved, and she was in his arms. She looked up at him in shock, as he kept up his smile.

"You look great," he wheezed sincerely, nuzzling the top of her head. She shook her head.

"You look like shit!" Leslie gasped, her hands all over his face. She kicked off her heels and stood up, and he leaned back to let her, "Holy fuck! What happened?!"

"As it turns out," Clark sighed, a little shakily, "keeping up with Superman and a super cyborg... Really takes it out of a guy."


Leslie's cooking skills had been mediocre at best. She'd had to cook for herself, so everything she could make was simple and foolproof. Nowadays she mostly got her food delivered or prepared, but hey: Anyone could heat up a bowl of soup and put crackers in it without screwing it up.

She put the finishing touches on it, and took the bowl out to the living room. Clark was on the couch, down to his boxers and wrapped in a fuzzy quilt that was probably hand knit by his mother or something. So she took extra care to not spill any soup onto it as she set it in front of him on the coffee table. She sat down next to him, sliding against him as though afraid he might drop dead at any second. He gave her a warm smile, and dug into the soup gratefully before he spoke.

"Mmm... Glad I still had some of the good stuff left over," Clark said with a nod. "I gotta go shopping again soon."

"I saw the fight on the news-Hell I commentated on it!" Leslie cried. "How did you get this bad?"

Clark was still for a long moment, before he sighed. "Like I said," he admitted, "trying to keep up with that fight? Exhausting. All the lifts and other means of getting around were offline because of the damage, and running up and down the stairs between skyscrapers and skyways is tough cardio," he said. Leslie sighed and shook her head, leaning up against him.

"Idiot," she said, "why can't you be like all the other journalists and just repeat what you hear on Twitter?"

Clark smirked slightly.

"Then I wouldn't be very good at my job, would I?" He soon finished the soup, and he did look a lot better. Leslie shook her head again, and rested it against his shoulder.

"So," Leslie began, "John Corben's a cyborg now, huh? Powered by some... Green crap? Kryptonite, right? Hurts Superman?"

Clark looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah," he said. "I learned about it from Doctor Hamilton-Apparently it's a piece of his homeworld. Followed him here. But it's radioactive. Deadly to him. Plus, he's made of some new kind of metallic alloy: Metallo. It's incredibly strong, but lightweight. And with Kryptonite powering him-"

"It makes him into someone who can derail a train through sheer strength," Leslie laughed grimly. "Man, what a world we live in. Oh, and let me guess: The guy who turned Corben into that thing is getting away scot free?"

Clark gave Leslie a cautious expression, his arm hovering near her waist.

"And who do you think turned him into that thing, Leslie?" He asked slowly.

Leslie rolled her eyes, and held a finger up to her chin as she hummed sarcastically.

"Gee. Who's a rich, powerful businessman slash genius engineer with a hard on for robots and who hates Superman?" Leslie shook her head with a snort. "Come on Clark. It's obvious Lex has a murderboner for Superman. Has since he showed up. I mean, either Superman's a threat to his power that Lex can't control, which would fuck with him hard..."

"Or?" Clark asked. Leslie shrugged and smiled impishly.

"Or he's finally coming to terms with his repressed sexuality and expressing his affection the only way he knows how: Trying to kill the one man he wants with robots and shit," she said. Clark's face became green, and he looked aside.

"Ugh."

"Aw, come on," Leslie cooed, "a little man on man action in your thoughts isn't gonna kill you!"

"It is when one of them is Lex," Clark groused. Leslie nodded, hugging his arm and pressing her boobs against his arm in apology.

"All right, good point. Sorry about that," she said. "But seriously: The asshole unleashed a killer cyborg in Metropolis and he needs to pay."

"Yes. He does. Problem: We have no proof," Clark said gently. Leslie snorted.

"That's never stopped me before," she huffed. Clark shot her a very serious look, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

"Leslie... Don't," he said. "Lex Luthor is dangerous. If he's this reckless with his power to get rid of Superman, what do you think he might do to you?"

Leslie growled. "I've never been afraid of men with power," she stated firmly, "and I'm not going to start now! So we don't have definitive proof-The people need to at least know who to blame! It's the truth!"

"It is," Clark said with a nod, "and that's what I pursue. But you can't just start saying things I've told you about my job on air without proof. Especially if it puts you in his crosshairs."

"It's not like I haven't been slamming on Luthor since I got my show!" Leslie shot back, tightening her grip on his bicep. "I take shots at him all the time! Killing me off would be a hell of a red flag for everyone, a sure sign he was close to-!"

Clark turned to face her, and wrapped his arms around her. He completely encompassed her, and she almost tried to struggle out of it. He looked her right in the eyes, his expression firm, furious... And desperate.

"I can't risk losing you," he said softly, in a tone that belied his expression. Leslie stared him back in the face, her face cold. She held onto his arms and looked him right back in the eye.

Despite everything, her heart fluttered at this show of protectiveness. Still...

"You won't," she said softly, "but how can I let this slide?"

Clark sighed heavily.

"I'm not asking you to let it slide," he said, "but I am asking you to wait. Wait until there's enough to bring him down with. Don't attract his direct attention."

Leslie took a deep breath. Part of her was screaming to just defy him: Who was he to tell her what to do?! Wasn't he just seeking the glory for himself?! She'd had lovers who had done just that, used her for their own goals. She'd hated being taken advantage of like that, being nothing more than a means to an end.

But that wasn't what Clark was asking, was it?

She took a deep breath, and rested a hand against his broad, bare chest. She looked down for a bit, getting her bearings, and looked back up into his eyes.

"Okay," she said, "I'll keep a lid on this... For now." She sighed heavily and rested her head against his chest. She felt his hand rub up and down her back, and she chuckled a little.

"What?" Clark asked.

"Oh, nothing," she said. She hummed and looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest like a puppy. "I was just thinking that saying he's gay for Superman would probably annoy him a lot more."

Clark sighed, and reached down to ruffle her hair. She playfully batted his hand away with her own.

"You're impossible," he said. Leslie grinned.

"Yup," she proudly admitted. He smiled back, and Leslie was pleasantly surprised at how nice it was to make him do that.

"Sooo," Leslie began, grabbing the bowl and spoon with a slow, deliberate action she combined with rolling her hips, "anything else I can do to cheer you up?"

"Hmmm?" Clark asked, leaning back. Leslie rolled her eyes. She swayed her bottom as she walked into the kitchenette, bending over quite deliberately as she shoved the bowl and spoon into his dish washer. She rose up, and slowly turned around, bringing her hands up to her large breasts as she walked seductively back towards him. Maybe he needed to be pointed in the right direction.

"Anything I could do, maybe~?" She simpered. Clark didn't respond. She frowned, and walked up to him. "Clark? Hey? You okay?"

A gentle snore answered her, his eyes shut tight. Leslie growled a bit under her breath, about ready to yell at him to wake up! She was still dressed in her sexy finest and he just-he just-!

She saw the contented smile on his face, and sighed. Her ire withdrew from her blood. She reached up and pulled his glasses off, gently setting them on the table. She walked over to the lights, and killed them. She walked back, and snuggled up to him. In his sleep, he lifted his arm to wrap around her and pull her tight against him. She smiled, and pulled the blanket tight around them both. It was a tight fit, but right now Leslie couldn't think of anywhere else she'd rather be.

"Oh, I'm gonna make you pay me back for this so hard," she murmured to him, cuddling up against his strong chest and listening to his gentle heartbeat, "I'm thinking leather Speedos at least..."

She drifted off herself, her last waking thought about how handsome he looked without his glasses...


Well, maybe we'll wait on shit going south just a bit...