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.


"Augh, fuck..." Leslie groaned. She slowly opened her eyes, bright lights greeting her. She shut them again and growled, lifting her hands to rub her temples. "Fuuuck... What the fuck did I… Drink? Do? Last… Whenever?"

It wasn't like a hangover. It wasn't a feeling of pain, so much as a tingling that ran through her entire body. Like an ever present sensation of static cling.

"Well, there's a simple answer, and a complicated answer to that," said a pleasant older man's voice. Leslie managed to lock her sensitive eyes onto the speaker: A portly, dark skinned doctor with a kindly smile and glasses.

Leslie blinked.

"Uh, hi," she said, her eyes darting around. There were screens on the walls of the small room, all monitoring complicated stuff. And the faint smell of antiseptics in her bed. She was dressed in nothing but a hospital gown, and covered by thin blankets. She looked back at the doctor.

"What happened? Where am I? Who are you?" She asked.

The man chuckled. "You got struck by lightning. You're in Metropolis General Hospital. And I am Doctor Freleng." He held up a thermometer. "Mind if I do the check up?"

"Go ahead," Leslie said with a shrug. The older man ran the thermometer over her forehead, his eyes fixed on the screen… And the device shorted out. He yelped as he tossed it aside, and Leslie jumped. That had felt so weird!

"That keeps happening," Doctor Freleng muttered. He shook his head. "Oh well! We can use the new remote set up. Though it's not as accurate."

"Star Trek, huh? Sure, that works," she said, scooting back a bit. He picked up a tablet and began tapping buttons. He hummed and nodded.

"Well, that's good. Pulse rate, breathing, blood oxygen levels, everything seems to check out," he said. "But it doesn't explain the… Uh…"

"Explain what? What?" Leslie asked urgently. Already her hands were going up to her face, and then to her chest. Nothing felt burned-Hell, nothing hurt at all! She almost felt electrified, full of energy.

Given she'd been struck by lightning, maybe that wasn't unexpected.

Doctor Freleng frowned. He then reached down, and pulled up a mirror from the side table. He held it up in front of Leslie's face. She stared.

Okay, she wasn't scarred… She was…

Leslie's eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms under her breasts and snorted.

"Oh, I get it. Body paint and do up my hair because I'm in a coma. Real funny," she snorted. "What, is this some kind of gag for reality TV? Because last time that happened, I knocked out one of Ashton Kutcher's teeth!"

Doctor Freleng shook his head.

"I'm afraid it's no joke, Miss Willis," he said.

Leslie rolled her eyes, and reached up. She pushed her hair down… And it stuck right back up. She snorted, and rubbed her cheeks, hard. The skin changed color slightly… But no make up came off. She grit her teeth and rubbed harder, digging in with her nails.

"Ow! Fuck!" Leslie cursed, pulling her fingers away. She took hold of the mirror and stared intently into it, studying the light marks she had left on her cheeks. She sucked in a deep breath.

"... I… I don't suppose anyone else has gone through this? After being hit by lightning?" She asked plaintively. Doctor Freleng smiled gently.

"We're looking into it," he said. He shrugged. "That said, it could have been much, much worse than a cosmetic change."

Leslie pulled her gown out, and looked down her body. Her eyes widened as she shifted her thighs.

"Holy shit… There too?! Everywhere?!" She cried. She shook her head. "I look like the fucking Ice Queen from Adventure Time!" She let her gown snap back onto her body, and looked at the doctor. "Hey, what happened to my clothes?"

The doctor grimaced. "Sorry, we have to cut you out of those," he apologized. "As for your phone, keys, and other personal belongings? All fried, I'm afraid."

"Great," Leslie muttered. She sighed, and looked carefully at the doctor.

"So, can I get a phone?" She asked. Doctor Freleng nodded.

"Of course, though we'll need one that's better grounded," he said. He pointed to a phone on the wall nearby. "It shorted out too!"

"Swell," Leslie muttered. The doctor smiled, and got the remote for the TV. He pointed it at the largest screen on the wall in front of Leslie, and it came to life. He handed it to Leslie, carefully. She took it, and flipped through the channels.

"In the meantime Miss Willis, I suggest you rest," he said. "Your manager is handling your business right now. I'll get him to contact you as soon as I see him."

"Yeah, sure," Leslie muttered. The doctor walked out, the door sliding shut behind him. She flipped fast through the channels, until she hit the one thing she hadn't watched in years: The local news. Thankfully, Angela Chen seemed to be saying something useful for once with her usual, annoyingly saccharine smile.

"We continue with our coverage of Leslie Willis's hospitalization after that lightning strike with her manager, Lenny Dicampo, having this confrontation with Superman outside the hospital!"

A little icon saying "Live" appeared in the corner, as she saw Lenny on the steps leading up to the hospital. He was pointing his finger furiously at Superman, who was walking down the steps.

"You! This is your fault!" Lenny shouted. Superman was frowning deeply, as reporters buzzed around him like angry hornets.

"She bashed you on your show and so you took it out on her!" Lenny continued.

Superman shook his head. "She was willing to call off the show when the lightning struck. As for her 'bashing' me, she had me over for one interview and I found her very fair."

"So you deny that you were motivated by any resentment towards Miss Willis?"

Another reporter asked. "You sound quick to respond like that."

"I do not have any resentment towards Miss Willis,"

Superman said, sounding like he was trying hard not to grit his teeth. He was clearly upset-Honestly, she couldn't blame him. Staying around Lenny and reporters would drive a saint to homicide.

"I'll have you know that we're going to be suing you, Superman!" Lenny shouted, "and we'll get every cent for her pain and suffering!"

"Fat chance, asshole!" Leslie growled. This was the kind of media circus that, when she was younger, she might have enjoyed. But right now, it was about as authentic as media coverage of gun violence in Suicide Slum.

That, and the last thing she wanted was Lenny representing her to the press. This big of a disaster needed her out of this hospital bed and on the radio! Or a stream! Something!

Doctor Freleng entered again, carrying a phone wrapped in rubber. He plugged it into the wall, and set it on the side table. He smiled and nodded.

"All ready to go," he said cheerfully. Leslie beamed.

"Thanks you're a lifesaver," she said happily. She picked up the phone and felt incredibly happy about the dial tone she was hearing. She looked back at the doctor. "Er… If you would-?"

The doctor nodded and backed out, closing the door behind him. Leslie punched in the numbers for Lenny's phone, her eyes narrowed on the screen as the verbal tussle continued. Lenny was now poking Superman right in the chest, looking smug.

"Hope you've got enough capital in the space bank for this, Superman!" Lenny shouted. "This is all your fault!"

"Come on, come on…!" Leslie growled. Lenny kept up his verbal assault, clearly ignoring the phone buzzing in his pocket. She groaned. "Of course. Fuck it. Why call him?"

She hung up, and rapidly punched in Clark's number. It began to ring, as Leslie anxiously played with the old cord attached to it.

On the screen Superman paused for a moment… And then shook his head.

"If you'll excuse me, I have some real matters of importance to attend to," Superman stated. He then flew upwards, speeding off into the sky like a fighter jet. Lenny was still there, shaking his fist like an impotent dweeb.

"EVERY! LAST! CENT! ALIEN!"

"UGH! Fuck him!" Leslie growled, hitting the mute button on the remote. At last, the call connected.

"Hello? Clark Kent speaking?" He responded. Leslie felt her heart leap up in her chest-Damnit, with everything going on just hearing his voice made her feel better.

"Clark? Clark, where are you?" She asked urgently. She frowned as she heard the sound of rushing wind in the background. "What's that sound? Are you driving?"

"Uh, no, that's a fan," Clark said. "As for where I am…"

The door slid open, and the tall form of a slightly disheveled Clark Kent entered. He smiled warmly, and Leslie found a grin coming to her face immediately.

"You son of a bitch," she cried, "how long have you been here?!"

"Long enough to evade the nurses and doctors," he said. He made a face as he waked up to her bedside. "And Lenny, of course."

"Ugh, that fucking guy," Leslie growled. She shook her head. "Listen, I need you to record a statement from me. I'm sick of Lenny taking over things like this!"

"Taking over?" Clark asked, raising an eyebrow. Leslie growled.

"He's the guy who organized this fucking concert! And he kept insisting we keep going ahead, even though the electrician who put it together was fucked in the head!" She sighed and looked up at Clark. The reporter studied her.

"He's been saying you wanted to go ahead with it, and as a formal audio engineer yourself, you signed off on it," Clark said in a neutral tone. Leslie felt a surge of rage.

"HE WHAT?!" She shrieked. She was almost out of her bed and halfway to the door before Clark caught her by the sides. He gently but firmly pushed her back into bed, even as she struggled. "Let me go! Let me go! I'll kill him!"

"LESLIE!" Clark shouted. Leslie stopped, shocked, as she looked up at him. He looked embarrassed, but stayed firm.

"Leslie," he said, "you're in no condition to go after him. A livestream of you is more than enough. Let's do that, huh?"

Leslie took deep breaths. The tingling sensation had gotten stronger, all over her body, running up and down her spine. She nodded quickly.

"Okay… Okay, you're right," she panted. "You're right… A livestream of me fucking firing that fucker."

Clark beamed at her. Leslie sighed, and pushed back a bit. She gestured up and down her body.

"So... They don't know why this happened," she said. "It's... A bit of a change, huh?"

She was already feeling a bit worried. Anxious, really, about this change to her. Him just appearing had made her unable to think too hard about it, but now that he was here...

Clark just smirked.

"I think you look just as beautiful as ever," he said. And he cupped her cheek gently to make sure she knew he meant it.

Her mood immediately surged again, in a new direction. Heat seemed to envelope her from the inside, as she wrapped her arms around him tightly and pushed her breasts up against his broad chest. She licked her lips as she gazed into his eyes.

"But first," she growled. Clark blushed, and coughed uneasily.

"Uh, Leslie, we're in the hospital-"

"And I just survived being struck by lightning," she practically purred, her fingers yanking at his suit jacket urgently. "I think this calls for a celebration~..."

God, she was so hot for him right now… Her mood swings were severe. Geez, was she pregnant? She was mostly sure she wasn't. Then again, getting hit by lightning was bound to cause some issues.

Eh, she'd worry about all of that later. After she'd reconnected with her boyfriend in the best way. She kissed him, her lips pressing to his…

Instead of his usual response of deepening the kiss and taking her into his arms… He began shaking and turned stiff as a board. Lightning crackled around them and the smell of ozone filled the air. He fell back, and Leslie watched him fall, as though in slow motion. Her eyes widened. He hit the floor with a dull thud, his suit smoking as he twitched.

"Clark?! CLARK?!" Leslie screamed. She looked at the door. "HELP! HELP! SOMEONE HELP!"

Doctor Freleng burst in, a nurse accompanying him. They knelt on the floor, the nurse already shouting into a radio as the doctor began checking the shaking Clark all over. Leslie was breathing faster and faster, her heart pounding in her ears. She stumbled back, her hand reaching out for support from a nearby screen.

The tingly feeling screamed through her hand, and she looked away from her convulsing boyfriend to her hand. Her eyes widened in horror and disbelief-Arcs of electricity danced all over her hand as it slid into the screen.

"Wha-No-What the hell-!"

The tingly feeling exploded all over her body, and the world faded from sight. She was inundated with sensations-views-images-all a confused, cacophony of stimuli as she seemed to be everywhere and nowhere…

One image stayed trapped in her mind though. One that refused to leave, and haunted whatever consciousness she still possessed:

Clark's lifeless eyes staring up at the hospital ceiling.


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