Flying Lessons 1/2
by JDG
Obviously, the central idea in this story belongs to Gene O'Neill and Norren Tobin, the original screenwriters. I thought it would be fun to put a different spin on things so this is taking place near the end of the second season.
I owe a debt of thanks to the kind souls who got snagged into reading this for me. Jenn and alcyone read it in its early stages and were immensely supportive. Much gratitude goes to alcyone for nudging me along to continue writing this. I humbly thank both alcyone and LaraMoon (each of whom had offered to read on another story and got suckered into this one instead) for their beta skills. LaraMoon graciously read this repeatedly and gave me several immensely useful pointers. Thank you, ladies, I owe all of you big time.
*-*-*
"Where am I taking you for dinner tonight?" Clark asks as he sits down in the chair next to my desk.
"I didn't realize you were taking me to dinner tonight." I don't hide the irritation in my voice. After all, he did abandon me halfway through dinner last night. Sure, he was paged by a source and had to leave. Clark almost always has a reasonable excuse for ending a date early. If I were a little more paranoid, I'd think he didn't want to kiss me good night. Except that he *has* kissed me good night - several times now - and he definitely wasn't shy about it.
Clark leans forward, resting his forearms on my desk, and gives me a smile that makes it nearly impossible to resist him. "Well, you're a modern kind of girl. If you wanted to take me to dinner instead, I wouldn't say 'no'."
I half-snort at his nerve. "As far as I'm concerned you still owe me for last night."
"Then let me make it up to you tonight. Please?" Clark touches my hand and our eyes meet. His are dark and serious and more than a little hopeful. He was so obviously unhappy with ending our date early last night and it appears that he's spent the hours since then fretting over it.
"And you'll stick around for the entire date? You won't suddenly decide to adopt a puppy or buy gym socks or renew your driver's license?"
"Hey, Clark," Jimmy calls from across the newsroom. "There's a kid down the well in Centennial Park. The Chief wants you on it."
Clark waves to acknowledge Jimmy and stands up. "Seven o'clock," he tells me as he moves toward the elevator. "And I promise I'll stick around for the entire date."
Two seconds after the elevator doors shut, I realize that a child down a well practically guarantees me a glimpse of the only man more mysterious than Clark Kent. I can stay here and keep working on this trade union summit story or…
I grab my jacket and make a break for it.
*-*-*
I arrive in the park just as Superman flies out of the well with a blanketed bundle in his arms. I push through the crowd of onlookers to ask him, "Are they OK?"
Superman looks up from the bundle and - for the briefest moment - he seems amused to see me there. "They would be -- if this was a real child." He tugs the blanket aside to reveal a doll with a still-wailing tape recorder strapped to it.
"That's so sick! Who would do such a thing?"
I barely have the words out before Superman drops the doll and grabs my shoulders. For a dizzying couple of seconds I think he's finally realized that he's desperately in love with me. He pulls me firmly against him and turns us swiftly. I want to say something, but there's a roaring sound in my ears and the world feels pink and fuzzy around the edges. Almost as quickly as he grabbed me, Superman releases me.
Only I can't seem to stand up and I'm horrified to realize that I'm about to faint. While he certainly has an effect on me, Superman's never actually made me *faint* before. I sway forward and he catches me, pulling me back against him. I can hear him asking me what's wrong above the static in my head. I try to tell him that I have no idea what's going on, but everything goes black.
The next thing I know, Superman is holding me and saying my name in increasingly urgent tones.
"I'm OK," I mumble. "What happened?"
"I don't know." He scans the crowd around us and then looks back at me. "I need to go now, will you be all right?"
"Sure. Fine." I'm actually still feeling a little discombobulated, but I'd rather appear competent and professional. I must be convincing, because he lets me go and turns away.
Superman makes an odd skipping motion and then hesitates, as if he's feeling as out of it as I am. He bends down and picks up a camcorder that appears to be smoking. He glances around and then directly at me. His mouth opens like he's about to say something, and then he shrugs and walks away, still holding the camcorder.
"Wow, he's acting kinda weird," says the guy standing next to me.
It would seem disloyal to say it aloud, but I silently agree with the man. I look around for Clark, but he's nowhere to be seen. That figures. I'll ask him back at the newsroom if he saw anything odd in Superman's behavior.
*-*-*
Clark isn't there when I return. In his absence, I decide to write the story about the doll down the well alone. I'm doing the final read through when I accidentally bump my coffee cup. In a split second, three things seem to happen simultaneously. One - the cup starts to tip. Two - I push away from my desk so that I don't end up with coffee in my lap. Three - and this is the weirdest of all - my desk skates across the floor. The coffee cup hits the floor where my desk should be. It lands on its side and the contents ooze out, leaving a dark puddle on the linoleum.
After a confused moment or two, I glance around. There are only a few other people in the newsroom since pretty much everyone is still out to lunch. None of them are looking in my direction. Still, I know that Jimmy has to be around here somewhere - and probably with a video camera.
I get up and casually walk over to my desk, now six or seven feet from where it belongs. Another furtive look around the newsroom reveals that no one is watching. I tilt my head to check the legs of my desk. There are no wheels that I can see. I push against it and it moves easily to its rightful place. For the sake of thoroughness, I wiggle my chair. It's not bolted to the floor at all.
I grab a few tissues and kneel down to mop up the mess now sitting *under* my desk. And then I hear my name.
It's Perry, talking in his office. I can hear the every word plainly even though his door is closed. "Lois came back almost an hour ago," he says into the phone. "Where are you?"
A little fainter, but still distinct, I hear Clark say, "I wasn't feeling well, so I went home. I think I'm just going to take the rest of the day off, if that's OK with you, Chief?"
Perry's reply is lost on me as I comprehend that I'm actually hearing a phone conversation from twenty yards away and through a closed door. I stand up and put one finger against my desk and push gently. It eases forward a few inches. You'd think I was nudging my keyboard and not a heavy wooden object.
Oh. My. God.
I am, inexplicably, as strong as Superman. With his superhearing thrown in as a bonus.
Something must have happened when he grabbed me at the park. Why in the world did Superman transfer some of his powers to me? And how? Did he do it on purpose? Why didn't he warn me or say something about it to me?
I really need to talk to Superman. There's only one person in the world who seems able to get in touch with him at a moment's notice. It's a good thing that I know exactly where to find him.
*-*-*
Clark looks exhausted when he opens the door. His tie and suit coat are gone and the top two buttons on his shirt are undone. Normally I would find his relaxed look kind of sexy, but right now it just seems to mirror the dazed look in his eyes. I easily push past him into his apartment, apologizing as I go.
"I'm sorry you're sick, Clark, but I need to find Superman." I'm at the bottom of his stairs when I see the camcorder sitting on his table. "Wait a minute - Superman's been here, hasn't he?"
Clark slumps against the banister; apparently answering the door was too much excitement for him. "Uh, yeah, he wanted me to check that camera out."
I take a precautionary step away from him, not wanting whatever germs Clark's picked up. "Why? What does this camcorder have to do with anything?"
He scrubs at his eyes as he answers. "There were two men who ran off at the park this morning. One was a TV reporter and the other had this camera. It shot out a red beam that hit Superman."
"And me," I remind him. "Did you miss the part where Superman grabbed me and spun me around? Where in the heck were you this morning anyway? I never even saw you at the park. And I think that's where it happened."
Clark's eyes widen. "Where what happened?"
I look around conspiratorially and then lean closer to him to whisper, "Superman gave me some of his powers."
"What?" Clark couldn't look any more shocked than if I'd told him *I* was Superman.
"It's true." I shrug and take hold of his waist, silently praying that I'm right and the ability hasn't worn off. To my relief, I lift him easily. "See."
Clark wriggles and I worry that I'm going to drop him. As soon as I set him down, he stumbles backward and stares at me in disbelief. He's even paler now - I hope I didn't give him vertigo when I picked him up.
"Do you mind if I take that camera to STAR Labs?" I ask and point at his table. Clark blinks, but doesn't answer, so I keep talking. "Obviously, you're in no condition to go anywhere. So I'll take it and see what we can find out. In the meantime, maybe you could contact Superman and ask him to meet me there?"
"STAR Labs is a good idea." Clark shakes his head like he's still trying to wake up. "Do you remember Dr. Klein? Take the camcorder to him."
I pick up the camera as Clark watches me with dazed curiosity. "Cut it out," I tell him. "I'm still me. Don't treat me any differently just because I could squish your head the next time you irritate me."
Clark's stupefied expression morphs into a grin and he raises his hands in mock surrender. "I'll try to remember that."
*-*-*
I'm about to enter STAR Labs when I hear my name called. I turn around to see Superman jogging across the plaza toward me. We get through Security a lot faster than any of my previous visits to the Lab. There's a perk of being Superman that I don't think he shared with me.
As we walk to the elevator, I can scarcely wait to be alone with him. There are so many questions to ask him, not to mention that it's amazing to know that we're equals now. As soon as the doors slide shut I turn to him and ask, "Why did you do it?"
"Do what?" he asks.
"Share your powers with me. Was there a reason that you picked me?"
"I, uh…" He bows his head for a moment and then looks me in the eye. "I'm not entirely sure how that happened, Lois."
I have to swallow my disappointment as the elevator doors open. Superman waits for me to exit first. There are other people in the hallway now and I don't bring up the subject again.
A balding man leans his head out of a doorway at the end of the hall. "Superman," he says and gestures for us to join him. Even though I've met Dr. Klein before, he stares at me without a flicker of recognition and asks, "And is this Lois? The one who now has your powers? Is that the video camera you told me about?"
"Here." I hand the camera to Dr. Klein. He looks so pleased with the camera that I'm half-expecting for him to start cracking his knuckles in anticipation after he sets it down. Superman keeps walking to the end of the long countertop.
"I think there's something in that camera," he tells us. "I'd prefer to keep it at a distance. I get around that thing and I start feeling disconnected."
"Hmm, curious." Dr. Klein taps one finger to his chin and then gives me an assessing look. I feel like a bug under a magnifying glass as Dr. Klein gawks at me. "Tell me, Lois, which powers have you accrued? Strength? Hearing? Vision? Flying?"
"Strength. I, uh, I pushed a heavy desk across the floor like it was nothing. And the hearing. I can hear people talking all around us right now."
"It's probably best if you don't listen in," Dr. Klein says with a frown. "I'm not sure what your security clearance is."
"Oh, I'm not! It's just background noise, really. I didn't even realize I was hearing other people until someone said my name when I shouldn't have been able to hear them. It caught my attention."
Superman gives me an understanding nod. "That happens."
"What's through that wall?" Dr. Klein points at the back of the laboratory.
I look at the wall but all I see is a plain old wall. There's a poster that reads 'Did you run your QA log?' and a door. I squint a little and concentrate and the wall seems to dissolve in front of me.
"Oh my gosh! I can see through it! Uh, it looks like a break room? There's a TV, a couch, a table and chairs."
"Very good," Dr. Klein says approvingly.
I grin at Superman, absolutely delighted with this gift. "Do you have any idea how useful this is going to be? I can see through walls and hear conversations now. People will start calling me 'super-journalist'."
Superman looks like he's fighting a smile as he answers. "Yes, it's very useful."
"What about flight?" Dr. Klein asks.
"I haven't really tried that. Uh--." I try to think of floating, but nothing happens. "Maybe I'm doing it wrong?"
Superman shakes his head. "Don't worry about it."
"So what do I do now?"
Dr. Klein taps his chin again before speaking. "I'd avoid interaction with others as much as possible. If word gets out that Superman's powers are transferable, we could have a mess on our hands."
"Avoid others? Are you kidding me? Am I supposed to barricade myself in my apartment for the rest of my life?"
Dr. Klein looks offended that I'm taking this so harshly. "Only for a day or two. Until we can set things right."
"Right? Set what right? Did you miss the part where I said that I *enjoy* having these powers?"
Dr. Klein stares at me in open-mouthed horror for a few seconds. Then he turns accusingly to Superman and asks, "You didn't tell her?"
"Tell me what?" I glare at both of them and wish the power to read minds had been included in this package. "What aren't you telling me?"
"When Dr. Klein said that my powers had transferred to you," Superman says haltingly. "He meant it literally."
*-*-*
Hours later I'm sitting in the break room with my head down on the table. It's been a long and exhausting day and my new powers are no longer exhilarating. Now they're frightening. I've pulled the knobs off of two doors and broken a countertop in half - all without even trying.
I've gone over and over the events in the park for Dr. Klein, trying to find the point in the sequence when the actual power transfer occurred. Superman's experience was similar to mine - the pink haze, the mental cloudiness and, for him, the sudden loss of all his super abilities.
After taking the camera apart, Dr. Klein found a small chunk of red rock wedged behind the shattered lens. A sample of it under the microscope revealed that it has all the same properties as Kryptonite - it's just a different color. Superman stoically allowed Klein to place the rock right next to him. Nothing happened. He didn't feel any pain, he said. His posture and attitude, however, grew decidedly more apathetic the longer he was exposed to it. It had zero effect on me.
I hear footsteps approaching the door and, because I can, I lift my head and squint at the door. It's Superman - and he's paused in the hall outside with his head tilted like he's trying to listen. I wonder how quiet his world must be now without the constant hum of people in the background.
Further down the hall, someone calls out to Superman and he turns and walks in their direction. I'm sorry to see him go - I feel absolutely alone. It's the oddest sensation, being completely surrounded by the noise and din of humanity and yet feeling isolated.
Not for the first time today, I wish that Clark were here. And then it dawns on me that I'm supposed to meet him in less than an hour for dinner. I look at the phone on wall and sigh, I guess I'd better call him and let him know that it's not going to happen.
His phone rings four times and then his answering machine picks up.
"Hi, Clark, it's me. Are you there? I hope you're feeling better." Behind me, I hear the door squeak open. I half-turn, catching sight of Superman in the corner of my eye. He gives me a nod in greeting as I continue speaking. "I'm sorry, but I think I'm going to have to cancel our dinner tonight. I, uh, I guess I'll call you later, OK?"
After I hang up the phone, Superman asks, "How are you?"
"Honestly?" I let out a sigh. "I'm feeling a little discouraged. I'm a walking disaster. How do you do it?"
"It will get easier." Superman comes closer and gives my shoulder a squeeze. "Pretty soon being careful just becomes second nature."
"Is that how you do it, then? It's just second nature? Because this is giving me a new appreciation for you. It's got to be tedious - always having to be careful."
"The only time I ever feel completely free is when I'm flying." His voice is low and wistful.
"Unfortunately, flying is the one thing I can't seem to be able to do."
"Maybe you're thinking too hard about it?" he suggests.
"Thinking too hard? But isn't that how you fly? You think happy thoughts it just happens?"
"No." He breaks into a laugh. "I'm not Peter Pan and there's no fairy dust involved."
"I'll make you a deal," I tell him. "You teach me how to fly and I'll gladly give your powers back when Dr. Klein figures out how to reverse us."
He holds his hand out to me. "Deal."
I shake his hand carefully and quickly release it. I already made him wince earlier today when I grabbed his arm without thinking. "So what do I do?"
"Well, first—." He pauses and thinks for a moment. "We should get you comfortable with the idea of being off the ground. Close your eyes."
I do. Without anything else to distract me, I can hear his heart beating and it feels incredibly intimate. I hear him take a breath and release it slowly. "Do you know how I learned that I could fly?"
I open my eyes a little to peek at him - I had no idea he was actually going to share something personal with me. "How?"
"There was a quarry, not far from where I lived. That was one of the greatest boasts that you could make at my high school - that you had jumped into the quarry."
"You went to high school?" My eyes are wide open now. "Here? On Earth, I mean?"
For a second his expression looks horrified and I wonder if he's regretting his decision to tell me this story. Just as quickly, his features shift back to the pleasant smile he usually wears. "Yes, I grew up here. Well, not Metropolis, but here on Earth."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Tell me the rest. Did you jump and change your mind halfway down?"
"No." He shakes his head and grins and suddenly his smile seems familiar, even though I'm quite certain I've never seen Superman look happily nostalgic before. "I jumped and it was just as terrifying and amazing as people had claimed. Only I forgot one thing."
"What?"
"A rope." He lets out a rueful chuckle. "The rope people used to haul themselves out had been removed a few months earlier to deter jumpers. So one of my friends left to find a rope while the others just stood around and, well, teenaged boys tend to mock each other a lot. The water was cold and I kept thinking that if hypothermia didn't kill me, my parents certainly would when I came home soaking wet. I didn't know then that I had heat vision - or that I was invulnerable to the cold."
There are so many questions I want to ask - the fact that he has parents and boyhood friends for starters - but I don't want him to stop the story.
"So then what happened?" I ask.
"I decided to climb out. I made it about halfway up the cliff wall before I slipped and went right back in the water. So I tried it again, only that time, when I slipped, I remember thinking that I just wasn't going to fall. And I didn't. The higher I climbed, the more I realized that I was doing it without much effort. I got to the rim about the same time my friend came back with a rope." His eyes gleam at the remembrance. "I was a legend for that. The only person ever to jump the quarry and then climb back out."
"So you can only fly when it's necessary?"
"No, I can fly - could fly - whenever I wanted after that. But first I had to figure out that it was simply a matter of trusting in my ability to do so. Later that night, I snuck out of the house and went back to the quarry. I knew it was potentially stupid, but I just had to see if I was right. So I jumped - only that time I stopped myself before I hit the water. I did a few times, actually. Jumped, stopped before the water, and then flew back to the edge. It was exhilarating. I don't know that anything has ever matched that feeling of being absolutely free."
He clears his throat and his expression turns serious again. "So close your eyes, and think about how it would feel just to be. Nothing weighing you down, no worries - just you. Imagine that gravity no longer applies to you."
I close my eyes and try to picture Superman as a teenager; free and happy as he subverts both the law of gravity and his parents' rules. For some odd reason I'm imagining that his parents look like Clark's. I can easily imagine Clark coming home dripping wet, still pleased with himself, even though he knows he's about to catch hell for being reckless.
Except I'm not supposed to be thinking about Clark. I'm supposed to be thinking happy airborne thoughts and scoffing at the laws of physics. I mentally chant to myself that gravity means nothing to me. I don't really believe it, though - gravity has never exactly been my friend.
I open my eyes and nothing has happened. "Maybe I should click my heels," I say sarcastically.
"I still think you're trying too hard. It's not something you concentrate on to make happen, it's something that happens when you-- let go."
"Let go?"
He nods encouragingly. "Exactly. Just let go and let it happen."
I close my eyes again and take a deep breath, then release it slowly, imagining that the air escaping me is going to lift me higher. Superman lets out a soft laugh.
I open my eyes and realize that I'm now a few inches taller than he is. I glance down and feel myself start to dip. No! I hurriedly push out another breath and it works - I rise higher into the room. The higher I go, the more giddy I am.
"See, you're a natural." He sounds delighted.
My head bumps against my ceiling and I laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. "I can't believe I'm not falling."
"You'll never fall, once you've figured out the trick," he assures me. "Now you know that you can do it, it's easy to do, isn't it?"
I drift back towards the floor, then swoop back into the air just as my toes start to touch down. He's right, now that I believe I can do it, it's as simple to fly as it is to breathe. Superman is still smiling, but I wonder if this is hard for him - watching me do what he was born to do.
"I'm sorry," I tell him as I come back to earth. "This must be so frustrating for you."
His eyebrows furrow and he shrugs. "If I had to lose my powers, Lois, I'm glad they went to you."
There's a pause between us while I argue with myself over whether to ask him if he'd trust me to take him flying. Before I can work up the nerve to ask, he gestures at the door and says, "Dr. Klein said you can go home now. He should have some news for us in the next day or two."
*-*-*
After I get home, it takes me almost half an hour to work up the courage to climb outside my window. My knees shake as I crawl out onto the ledge. I take a deep breath and let my feet dangle. I can't do it. I know I can fly - really I do, but I just can't jump. I close my eyes, let out another breath and push away from the ledge.
Nothing happens.
I open my eyes and there's the street, five stories below me. I don't fall - I just hover there in delighted wonder. It's one thing to fly with the floor just below you. It's another to float this high above the ground.
For almost a minute I stay there, watching the cars and people pass below me. Then I lift higher, above the roof of my building, my confidence increasing with every passing second. I fly - FLY! - in the direction of the one person with whom I simply have to share this.
*-*-*
Clark is sitting on the end of his bed with his head bowed when I land on his back porch. His phone is sitting next to him. He looks dejected and I wonder who he just talked to and what they said. He definitely looks like he could use a friend.
I tap on the glass to get his attention. He looks up and his eyes widen in surprise, but he walks over to open the door for me.
As I come inside, I ask him, "Aren't you wondering how I got onto your back porch?"
Clark shrugs. "Well, considering how you tossed me around earlier today, I'm going to assume that you flew here."
"I didn't *toss* you around." I glare at him, a little insulted by his version of events.
"No," he concedes with half a smile. "You didn't."
I smile back in relief - he was only kidding. A rush of affection for him spills through me. Only Clark dares to tease me like this. He's done it since practically the day we met. It took some time, but I eventually realized that he wasn't mocking me; he was acknowledging me. It's the verbal equivalent of a wink. There's something reassuring about having one person in the world who isn't fooled by my blunt personality.
I hold my hand out to him. "Wanna fly with me?"
Clark doesn't say a word. He just stares at me, his eyes dark and serious. He's not joking; not doing this to tease me. He's genuinely speechless. I start to worry that maybe he thinks I'm joking.
"Come on, Clark, I promise I won't drop you. This is the coolest thing that's ever happened to me, and I want someone to share it with. Fly with me. Please?"
A very long two or three seconds tick by before he reaches out and takes my hand and softly says, "All right."
*-*-*
End Part 1/2
