Flying in the Fast Lane for a Day

By Chrys "ChaaBreh" Apruzese <>

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: May, 2005

Summary: Sometimes an author's lifelong dream can come true. A fantasy fic.

Notes: This is somewhat autobiographical. Writing this short story fulfilled some lifelong dreams for me!



Thursday evening in April

Somewhere in Central Connecticut, USA

A woman is lying in her queen-size bed reading "Birthright" before she turns in for the night. There is a man, her companion of ten years, sleeping next to her, lying on his side, facing away from her. She analyzes her life, feeling slightly depressed about being middle-aged. <Boy, it's funny how the body just doesn't work the same, as you get older. Aches and pains surface in places that you didn't know even existed. You get stiff after you sit for a while. Don't feel sexy too much anymore either. Never have found love like Lois and Clark had. The kind of passionate love that stirs you to check into a hotel room every time you make eye contact. That must be so nice. All I've ever had is that comfortable feeling you get when you get to know someone really well — the good, the bad, and the ugly. Too bad that kind of passion just doesn't last. It's not real. It exists only in the movies, on TV, and in DC Comics!>

Placing her reading material on her stomach for the moment, she continues her mental rant. <If I just could have one wish before I die, it would be to know how it feels to have Clark/Superman/Kent in love with you and to go flying with him. A man that does the right thing *because* it's the right thing to do. A man that would never cheat on you, or lie. A good man, a man of integrity, and damn hot too. Hey, eye candy never hurt anyone! Am I being a hypocrite? Oh well>, she ponders, feeling slightly melancholy. <I've dreamed about flying since I first watched the old black and white Superman TV series when I was a kid. Yikes, I'm really dating myself now!> She puts the hardcover comic book down by the side of the bed where she keeps her mountain of nighttime reading material, and turns off the light. Buddy, her reddish cocker spaniel, takes his spot on the side of her left thigh. Baby, the buff-colored cocker, is sleeping by her companion's feet at the very end of the bed.

At 6:20 a.m., the annoying sound of the alarm clock wakes her up. <Working stinks, not *having* a job stinks. Is anyone ever happy?>

She looks over to her right. Disheveled bed covers greets her, per usual. <Geez, why can't he just once leave things neat when he gets up to go to work?> Resignedly, she gets up, makes the bed, gets dressed, and goes to work. <What am I doing in banking? I was either going to be a musician, or a journalist like Lois Lane. How did I end up doing *this* for a living?> She has this argument with herself every day on her drive in to work.

At 4:45 p.m., she leaves the office and walks through the parking lot towards her car to drive home, the old "another day, another dollar" expression fresh in her mind. Suddenly, there is a flash of light. Things go black. It feels like she is being drawn into a tunnel. <I've never fainted before>, is her last conscious thought.

The Fairy Godmother of the DC Comics / Warner Brothers Universe has taken her away to a very special place…as a reward for being such a good person for 50+ years!!


Metropolis, New Troy, USA

Saturday Morning in April

The Lane-Kent apartment

Lois' POV

<Mmmmm, that feels so good>, is my first thought, as I feel the warmth of a hairy leg intertwined with mine, as well as two muscular arms encircling me. <The spoon position has to be the best one. Forget about what Masters and Johnson and Dr. Ruth says!>

"Morning, honey. Did you sleep well? You were really tired when you came home from work last night. I'm sorry I had to run out on you last night but there was a fire on the bridge and emergency personnel couldn't get in so I had to airlift victims to Met General. Anyway, when I got home, you were out like a light on the couch. I cooked you a great dinner and woke you up but you couldn't even keep your eyes open. I floated you to bed and undressed you. I have to admit, that was the fun part. I decided that you didn't need to wear a nightgown last night; I would keep you plenty warm."

The voice was a husky whisper and *very* sexy. Almost like — <Omigod! It's him! He's stroking my face and kissing my forehead. The love in his eyes is absolutely amazing. I'm tingling inside — feeling stuff in places that I thought either died or dried up! I look down at my body — WOW! I'm a thirty-something again — completely naked! Where *are* my clothes?>

"Clark — I'm not who-" I start to say, blushing. I'm in bed with — Superman! Then I realize that he doesn't know I'm not Lois and that there is nothing to be embarrassed about. I am so *hot*! There is no cellulite — no wrinkles, no puffy things that don't belong. I am absolutely his for the taking. Ravish me, Superman!

"What did you say, honey?" he says, silencing me with his hungry, tasty lips. "You want to stay in bed with me all day? Make love to you until even I can't keep my eyes open?"

His smile is absolutely electrifying. He could light up the whole of New York City if he hooked his face up to a power generator and grinned just once. He climbs on top of me, forcing his arms underneath me.

All of a sudden, we're floating above the bed. I am now on top of him, running my hands everywhere, feeling his biceps and hairy, sexy chest, kissing his neck, stroking his leg.

Now, he looks at me with adoration in his eyes and says, "I love you, Lois Lane," before he loses himself in the passion of the moment. He gently floats us back down to the bed. He kisses me with deep affection, rolls me over on my side, and snakes his arms around me again, holding me warmly and tightly until we both fall back to sleep. Just before I drift off, I remember that it's Saturday and I don't have to work. Thank God! May I never wake up from this dream!

Next thing I know, Clark is gently nudging me. I look under the covers at my body! Wow, everything is still really great down there!

"Hey, sleepy head! I think you would have spent the day in bed if I hadn't woken you up," Clark observed.

"With your arms around me, Clark, I *could* stay in bed forever. The weekend is too short as it is," I reply.

"Honey, what's the matter? You don't seem yourself today," Clark remarks. "Something is different. You are usually gung-ho on the weekend — you bring stories home to work on — you're never this laid back."

"Forget about work. No work this weekend. I'm just so happy to have the day off and to be with you," I say with absolute truthfulness. "It looks like a beautiful spring day. Take me flying?"

"You never get sick of flying with me, do you honey? I have to admit, it *is* my best power, and the one I would miss the most."

"I'm looking forward to it just as much as if it were my first time," I tell him in earnest. <Geez, after all those years of dreaming about flying, I hope I don't have a fear of heights I didn't know about!>

"So where do you want to go?" Clark asks, kissing me on the forehead.

<What a dreamy guy!> I gush to myself. "Let's head west. We can stop in Smallville and visit the Kents -"

"The *Kents*? Honey, why are you being so formal? You always call them 'Mom' and 'Dad' —"

<Idiot!! You're going to blow it. You've been given this gift and you're going to blow it!>

I smile sheepishly. "Just toying with you, farm boy." <Hope he buys *that!*>

"OK, so you want to drop in on Mom and Dad, then where?"

"West to the Pacific Ocean. Let's start in San Diego and fly up the coast, along the beach. California is so beautiful from the air."

"Your wish is my command, Madame," he says playfully, helping me up. I catch a reflection of my body in the mirror by the bed. <Holy cow!! Does Lois work out or *what!* To have a figure like that! No wonder Clark's so in love with her. Not that he's that shallow just to love Lois for her looks, 'cause he's not. But so what if he is! As long as it's *me* he loves! Omigod. Being in her body is turning me into a mental babbler!>

I fumble thru the dresser, grabbing a comfortable pair of black jeans and a sexy purple v-neck sweater which accentuates my figure very nicely! Looking at the size of the jeans — a 6, I gulp. <Haven't worn a size six since I was about *her* age>, I realize. <Wish someone could take my picture! No one back home would believe me!>

Clark is standing by the window, in his full Superman regalia, waiting for me to leap into his sculpted arms. "Ready, hon?" he says, again knocking me dead with his smile.

"As I'll ever be," I tell him truthfully. He motions to me to jump towards him. Apparently this is something they do every time they go flying together. So, I do. He catches me gracefully, kissing my neck, giving me chills. He opens the window, ensuring that there are no nosy neighbors lurking about, and we soundlessly float thru the glass. Faster than my eyes can follow, we are suddenly up above the skyscrapers of Metropolis. It reminds me of the aerial view of New York City from Donald Trump's helicopter when I watch The Apprentice each week. <Hmmm… I always wondered what city Metropolis was supposed to be. Now I have the answer to *that* question, too>.

We fly over several famous bridges and a famous statue out in Hobbs Bay of a glorious lady displaying a torch. <That's me today — carrying a torch for a beautiful super-powered man>, I muse.

Soon we are flying over the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. Clark flies low over the trees and drops down adjacent to a mountain waterfall. He takes off his cape and we lay down on it in front of the pounding mist. We share another passionate moment, and then we're floating over the spray, deliriously in love.

<This man is absolutely perfect — handsome, gentle, sensitive — and he can *fly*!>

"I love you so much, Clark Kent," I tell him sincerely. "You are truly the perfect man."

His eyes light up. "You are my life, Lois Lane," he replies in return. <He's so appreciative of me — treats me as if I were made of gold. What a special gift this Lois Lane woman has. I so hope she treasures this man as much as I do>.

Clothes back on, we return to the clouds, heading west, and soon the plains of the Midwest are evident down below. It's hard to describe the experience of flying with Clark. It's wonderful — it's exciting. You look down and can't believe that there is nothing holding him upright — there are no wires — no sleight of hand. This man can fly like Peter Pan! It is just like a fairy tale up here. Your perspective of the world changes. You realize how insignificant you are — and yet, one man — Superman — can make a difference. I suddenly realize how much I want to meet the parents of the man I love, have loved since I was 9 years old.

The Kent farmhouse is exactly how it's pictured in the comics. It's yellow, with a big red barn adjacent to it. Cows are grazing about, and there are cornfields everywhere. There is a large front porch with a glider and several comfortable outdoor chairs. We land and Clark spins into his civvies in front of me. I can't help it — I swoon. It's breathtaking to watch.

Suddenly panicking over how to greet "Mom" and "Dad", I walk thru the front door, following Clark into the kitchen.

Martha is beautiful — she has straight auburn hair, with a hint of gray in it. Jonathan has a youthful appearance — in his youth, he was a sun-bronzed blond -haired young man, and he has since aged *very* well. In fact, they're about my age — my *real* age. Maybe a few years older, but not much.

Martha envelops me in a big bear hug. "Honey, it's always so nice to see you. Can you both stay for dinner?"

<Wow! A chance to experience the legendary culinary talents of one Martha Kent? I don't think I'm going to pass that up!>

Clark looks at me for approval. I nod "yes". "Do I get to have a piece of that famous apple pie, too?" I ask.

"Honey, I always have a spare apple pie in the freezer, because Clark does have a tendency to just *drop* in, if you know what I mean," Martha replies, smiling broadly. "Luckily, he can heat an apple pie up faster and more evenly than a microwave oven!"

"Yes, he's very handy in that regard," I respond, agreeing with her.

Jonathan can tell there's something different about me — I just feel it. He greets me warmly, kissing my hand, but kind of looks at me cockamamie. Nonetheless, we make pleasant banter through dinner, and about an hour before sunset, we say our goodbyes to these wonderful human beings who gave us a Superman, and before long we are flying over the Grand Canyon.

"Lois, you're looking at this as if you've never seen it before," Clark observes. "The last time I flew you out west, you said 'ah, there's just so many canyons you can look at before they get boring!' — this time, your eyes are popping out of your head in wonderment. What gives?"

<Wow — Lois really said *that*? How could she take such a glorious scene for granted? My nature streak is showing too much!>

"Lately, I haven't shown my appreciation of you or what you can do as much as I should, Clark. But not any more. I want you to know that today I'm seeing the beauty in *everything*, especially my husband, the most wonderful man in the world." <Yikes! That was too sappy. Not Lois-like. He's going to be on to me soon.>

Clark looks at me strangely. "Huh. OK, honey. Did you have a really, really bad day at the Planet yesterday or something? You know you can always talk to me about anything, sweetie."

"I'm fine, Clark. Really. This is shaping up to be a really great day. Ooooh, we're at the coastline. I see the Hotel Del and Coronado Island. I'd love to have you fly me over the Golden Gate Bridge too. It's so beautiful."

Clark kisses me. "That's what I love about you, honey. You never fail to surprise me. We just did this last week when we attended that conference, and today it's like we're doing this for the first time all over again."

<Damn! There was *no* way I could have known that!>

I look down, and the San Francisco bay is now below me, in all its glory. The mountains adjacent to the burnt-orange colored bridge, the sapphire-blue water in the bay spilling into the Pacific Ocean. I breathe deeply, figuring this is a dream — but *what* a dream it is. <Sigh.>

"Let's find the tallest redwood tree on the coast," I whisper in his ear.

Heading due north towards Muir Woods National Monument, Clark locates a giant redwood, 252 feet high and probably 500 to 800 years old. "I didn't realize you were such a nature lover, Lois. Did you know that the redwoods thrive in the California and Oregon coast because of the dense fog? During the dry season, the fog condenses on the leaves and needles, then drips down to the forest floor to give moisture to the trees' massive roots."

I am impressed by his knowledge. "Wow," I gush back to him. "That's really interesting, Clark." <We are floating above a tree that has a lifespan at least ten times longer than most humans. How cool it is to be with a man that can take you anywhere you want to go!>

Just then, Clark cocks his head. "Honey, I'm sorry. My super- hearing just picked up a distress call from an airplane trying to attempt an emergency landing at the Oakland airport. Where do you want me to leave you?"

"Near the pedestrian walkway of the Golden Gate Bridge. The three-mile walk will do me good, and it's a beautiful clear evening. I'll be fine," I tell him. In truth, my heart is sinking. What if he doesn't come back to get me? <You're Lois Lane>, I remind myself. <He loves you. He's not like the other guys who found excuses to leave and took forever to surface again. He's Superman. He tells the truth>.

Clark drops me down away from the throng of pedestrians heading towards the bridge's walkway. Since others are watching, he puts on a formal air. "There you go, Ms. Lane. I'll let Clark know where you are." He winks at me and flies east towards Oakland.

Little kids come running up to me. "You know Superman? He's cool! How do you know him?" Their parents, dying to ask me the very same question, nonetheless silence their children and leave me alone. I walk the length of one the world's most beautiful structures, stopping every now and then to enjoy the scenery, realizing that a view from a bridge will never again be as impressive as the perspective from Superman's arms.


I have just made it over to the other side when Superman, streaking faster that the eye can follow, literally sweeps me off my feet. On the flight home, Clark tells me about a 747, carrying a full boat of passengers, which experienced engine trouble and was circling the Oakland Airport, trying to make an emergency landing. Just like in "Superman: the Movie", he flew under the wing and provided support for their landing. After ensuring that all passengers were safe and that no one would need medical attention, he flew off to find me, "Lois".

It's nighttime, and we're heading due east. I am amazed both by the darkness in certain parts of the U.S., and the dots of light in the more densely-populated areas. Clark's aura keeps me surprisingly warm as we float along. I suddenly remember the scene with Margot Kidder when they are flying over "Metropolis" — and I ask Clark to simply hold my hand so I can pretend I am flying under my own power. He smiles at me and allows my slender fingers to slide down his arm until they meet his larger fingers. He holds my hand tightly and his eyes are filled with love. Love for "Lois" — but since I'm somehow in her body, tonight, he loves *me*. And so I have fulfilled my lifelong dream — to know what true love feels like, and to fly with Superman. However many years I have left to live, I will now have no regrets.

We land on the roof of "our" apartment. He spins into his Clark- clothes, and we take the stairs down to our floor. He asks me if I would like a late-night snack — and, of course — I ask for "Chinese". He disappears in a flash and returns with four or five containers of the most delicious Chinese I've ever eaten.

We retire to the bedroom, where I memorize the look of love on his face when he's holding me and making love to me. It's such a contented expression, one that I will cherish for the rest of my life. I sink into a glorious, fulfilled sleep, warm inside his embrace.


Epilogue 1

Sunday morning in April

The Kent apartment,

Metropolis, New Troy, USA

Lois Lane wakes up and immediately flips the covers off and looks at herself, waking her husband, Clark Kent, who is floating several inches above the bed.

"Oh, thank God! It's me! Everything's smooth, I can see my bones again! And the man next to me is… you. What a nightmare I just had! It was so real, Clark. Please hold me — don't ever let go!"

Clark turns to face his beautiful wife and smiles as he snakes his arms around her, as requested. "Honey, you've been a lot more affectionate this weekend than usual. You finally put work aside and seemed appreciative of the finer things in life. Did something happen that you want to share with me?"

"Clark… if what I remember really happened, then, trust me, I'd much rather forget it. I'm going to chalk it up to overwork and a bad dream."

"Ok, honey," Clark says, kissing her on her forehead.

"Can we go fly somewhere pretty today, Clark?"



Epilogue 2

Sunday morning in April

Somewhere in Central Connecticut, USA

She opens her eyes and Buddy jumps up and steps right on her chest, excited that the mistress of the house is finally awake. Her partner of ten years is sleeping next to her. Baby is half- lying on his shoulder. She looks around at the familiar yet disappointing surroundings and sighs. <It "was" a dream, after all. It seemed so real. I can still picture how the wind felt on my face as we were floating high above the earth, what it felt like to make love outdoors, to fly over a beautiful redwood tree…>

The man next to her stirs. He gets up; the dogs follow him. Shortly, he brings to her a cup of steaming coffee, freshly brewed. She thanks him, takes a sip of the only beverage that can her going in the morning, and puffs up her pillow. She reaches for the comic she was reading just the other day, realizing that it's Sunday. She doesn't have to work today, either. <If this was all a dream, then why I don't remember yesterday at all?> she ponders.

Her partner walks in. "Do you feel better than you did yesterday? You weren't yourself at all," he remarks.

"Really?" she replies. "I don't remember much about yesterday — it's a blur."

"All you did yesterday was look in the mirror, muttering that it was impossible to get that old and that fat in one day! What the heck was *that* all about?"