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's fists balled as she sat behind her desk, her eyes narrowed as her manager Lenny wildly gesticulated in front of her. It was not an unusual situation for her to be in: Lenny was overly dramatic by nature and always had some kind of issue he could only express like a mime on cocaine. It was part of their relationship.
Today though, her usual irritation with her manager's antics had become genuine, cold anger.
"I'm sorry, would you like to repeat that?" Leslie growled. Lenny groaned, throwing his hands up.
"I'm saying, you need to host this concert or you're through, Leslie," he said.
"What the hell are you talking about?!" Leslie demanded. "My interview with Superman and Lane has millions of views, and is getting millions more! That call from a spaceship-It blew up the fucking internet! We have more listeners than ever, and you're telling me that I have to host a concert or I'm through?!"
"It's the sponsors," Lenny admitted, waving his right hand around like a windmill, "the sponsors are threatening to pull out because while the show is doing great, the local sponsors aren't getting their cut. The guys who put their money here in Metropolis? Who make their money here? They're not getting anything."
"That's bull!" Leslie shouted, nearly slamming her fists through the desk and making the laptop and other items on it shake. "How many fucking Metropolis listeners do we have!? Plenty! The sponsors say they're not getting their fair share?! How?!"
Lenny looked pained. "Well, apparently it's the nature of the contract with the sponsors," he said. He shook his head. "I'm not a lawyer, Leslie, but-"
"But what?! You're not doing your goddamned job?!" Leslie shouted. "You're supposed to figure this out, Lenny!"
"It's just one concert, Leslie!" Lenny insisted, backing away a step. "Just one! What's the big deal?!"
"The big deal is that I've done four of these already!" Leslie barked angrily, leaning across the desk. "Four of them! In the last two months!"
Four exhausting events that had left her no energy to see Clark. He'd been pretty busy himself: Some creepy clone of Superman had appeared, and some alien Kaiju too. That had been worth plenty of vitriol: This for General Hardcastle, the hardass who had thought using missiles that burned ten times hotter than nukes against a gigantic alien robot that literally ran on heat was a good idea.
Even a month after, the "General Hardcastle Hotness" meme was topping Google search statistics.
That said, when you get a boyfriend whom you do care for deeply, you start to want more time with him. And four concerts in two months had taken away pretty much all the time she could have allotted to seeing Clark.
"Nothing like this! Nothing this big!" Lenny insisted. "Look, it's just one more! You're an entertainer! This is what you do!"
Leslie looked over at her computer. The weather reports were all dire, almost universally. And the dark shadows of the cloud cover above demonstrated the truth of the situation. She grit her teeth.
"Yeah, but never with a record thunderstorm blowing in," Leslie pointed out. "I'm a sound engineer, Lenny-These conditions are dangerous."
Lenny grinned and held up his hands.
"Exactly!" He crowed. "That's the point! That's what you need, more than anything else! You're starting to look like some goody two shoes, instead of an anti-authority figure!"
"I am an anti-authority figure!" Leslie retorted, "but I'm not stupid! Local controversy isn't worth suicidal conditions!"
Lenny sighed heavily, and rested his hands on the desk.
"Look, Leslie," he said, "you need to do this concert. Period. One more concert and we can get the sponsors off our back. Just one, and you can take it easy for a while! You need to take risks, or else you'll just become one of those piddling YouTube celebrities!"
"Youtube is the future, Lenny!" Leslie snarled, "what do I care if the locals don't get their fucking cut?!"
Lenny shook his head. "Because without their backing? You don't have a foot in both worlds," he said. "Sure, you can get a YouTube following. You could do this show by yourself. But if you want to do business in Metropolis, you need the locals on your side. You need to have a spectacle. You need to have a brand."
Leslie gritted her teeth. "And that's what I am? A brand?!"
Lenny laughed humorlessly. "That's what you signed up for," he said, "when you became a celebrity. That's the situation: Do the concert, and we keep the local sponsors happy. Got it?"
Leslie sat down, her fingers digging into her desk. She took a deep breath, calming herself. She shut her eyes tightly.
"... Fine," she ground out. Lenny grinned, and nodded. He went over and opened the door to her office.
"Then come on," he said, "let's go thumb our noses at God."
"Yeah yeah," Leslie sighed, getting up and trying to put her public face on. It wasn't hard, with how irritated she was feeling.
Still, as they got into the limo and drove off to Centennial Park, Leslie was able to calm herself and focus on the job at hand. Maybe she was being immature. Maybe this was her job, and she just had to do it. Maybe the risk was low enough they'd be fine.
She looked up at the dark clouds, and glared up at them.
Maybe she could just defy nature itself. After all, it was the ultimate authority.
Main problem was, nature did not have a complaint department.
Nature didn't care.
Backstage, Leslie found her script. She immediately discarded most of the pages, and began scribbling short hand for corrections and her own lines. The concert featured plenty of local talent, and per her usual idiom, she would roast them or compliment them as needed. So most of her job was improv, really. Who knew those stupid acting classes she'd had to take would come in handy? She'd only taken them for her cosplay and for filling out her electives.
The script had been easy, and was soon done. So next up, she went around the stage to examine the equipment and helped with the sound checks. It was something she'd done in college, getting experience and pay at local theaters. It came naturally back to her, and let her keep her thoughts away from the storm overhead. Immediately, there were issues. Issues she discussed angrily with the stage manager near one of the great subwoofers, as the murmurs of the crowd outside warbled through the air.
"You call this acceptable?! The circuit breaker work on this shit show wouldn't pass with the local union!" Leslie barked. The manager leaned back worriedly, cringing at her assault.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but this is what the planners called for!" The manager said defensively. "The engineer said it would be fine-"
"Fine if there wasn't a thunderstorm over our head?! Maybe! Now? Now it's a fucking death trap!" Leslie snarled, waving a hand over the framing for all of the lights and speakers, "this isn't a stage, this is a death trap! Get me the fucking engineer, NOW!"
"Y-Yes ma'am!" The manager babbled, tearing off in fear as he shouted instructions into his mouthpiece. Leslie shot another glare at Lenny, who had been hovering near her from the moment they arrived. He shrugged sheepishly under the intensity of her glare.
"I-I didn't-I just got the contractors the sponsors used-"
"Next time, give me the list!" Leslie growled, "and I'll tell you who to use and who will set us all on fire!"
Another stage hand ran up to her across the stage, dodging other workers setting up instruments and checking wires. Her young face was filled with worry, as a group of police officers and men in suits marched after her. Leslie growled low in her throat.
"What now?" She demanded. The runner panted hard, catching her breath.
"Miss Willis, the-the police are here! They say they want to shut things down!"
Leslie clenched her fists tightly, her teeth grinding almost audibly. She looked over at Lenny, who again was looking away at his phone to avoid her furious gaze. She sighed angrily.
"Fine, fine," she said. She walked out onto the main stage, the crowd letting loose whoops and cheers when they saw her. Already, several cops in ponchos were trying to hold them back, and angry shouts and expletives were being hurled back. It was an ugly scene, and normally she would have been elated at it. But maybe Clark's caution was rubbing off on her, because right now it was making her even more pissed off. She took a deep breath as she stared down the cops: Daniel Turpin was with them, looking as grizzled and stony as ever. She allowed a little smirk to come onto her face. The detective glared as they stopped a few feet away.
"All right lady, we're here to shut you down!" Turpin called. "Let's just call this whole thing off! The storm's coming, this whole place is a lightning magnet!"
"What?!"
Lenny had come onto the stage, his eyes wide in shock. The boom of thunder rattled through them, as Lenny glared at the cops.
"You can't be serious," Lenny cried, "we've been planning this concert for months! You can't shut us down!"
Leslie grit her teeth. She'd had a way out, and Lenny had blown it. Fucking blowhard. Still, she could hear cries and cheers from her audience in support of defying the police.
"This is going to turn into a firestorm! Shut it down, reschedule it, just stop right now before someone gets hurt!" Turpin ordered.
That rankled her something fierce. She hated being given orders. And yeah, maybe he was right. Maybe this was a death trap. But if the local sponsors wanted a show? Fine. She'd give them one.
Leslie stepped forward and shook her head.
"Crowd control, huh? Bit of a step down for the guy who saved Superman, Turpin," Leslie taunted. "Who'd you piss off at HQ?"
Turpin scoffed, sneering in anger.
"That's got nothing to do with it!" He shouted. "The city safety inspector says this is dangerous-So shut it down!"
"Speak of the devil," said one of the cops, looking at the sky. Leslie followed his eye line, and saw a familiar blue and red form flying down towards them. She could hear Lenny's sharp intake of breath and practically feel his grin-Superman was here!
Yeah, it was time to end things, Leslie decided. She'd have a bit of a face off with Big Blue, they'd cancel the concert, and she'd get to blast the local contractors for their shitty work and the cops for being killjoys.
Nobody got hurt. That would keep Supes happy, no doubt.
He landed between the two groups, raising an eyebrow.
"Dan? Why are you here?" He asked. Dan grumbled.
"This concert is in violation of safety codes, and the storm overhead means we gotta shut this down," he stated. He gestured up to the black, soupy sky. "But Miss Nonconformist here is refusing!"
"I didn't say a damn word!" Leslie shouted back. "My stupid manager did!"
"Hey!" Lenny protested, but quieted at a glare from her. She looked back at Superman. She smirked up at him as he walked closer, until he was only a foot away from her. A microphone on a pole stood between them, humming softly.
"So, are you going to shut this down willingly? It's dangerous out here right now," Superman stated. Leslie rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, tell me about it," she said quietly, "but! Gotta save some face, right?"
A rock arced its way for Superman, and bounced right off the side of his chest. He looked unamused, stoicly taking more shots as Leslie instinctively backed away.
"Boo! Fuck you Superman!" A concert goer shouted.
"Killjoy! Fuck off!" Another jeered. The officers had to work harder to hold back the crowd, as it got more unruly. Superman looked back at Leslie, still stone faced.
"I think you need to tell them to go," Superman said slowly. "Say whatever you need to, but this is getting dangerous."
Leslie privately agreed... But she saw the signs of her sponsors high above the frothing crowd. She mentally sighed, and waved her hand.
"Well then, hand me the microphone," she said, "and I'll give them the bad news, Super Baby Sitter."
Superman, still unamused, reached out and took hold of the microphone. He picked it up and mechanically held it up to her. She reached out to take hold of the stand, her eyes never leaving his...
Thunder roared, and a blast of white lightning connected with Superman. The arcs raced over his body as he cried out in shock, but were smothered by her screams. The heat, the voltage filled her, her entire body screamed as raw power threatened to tear her apart! Her vision went white, and she went numb. She felt herself fall, hitting the stage floor. She felt everything go dark... The last thing she heard was Clark's voice, calling her name...
Then everything vanished.
And so... Livewire begins.
