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Flying

Clark Kent had survived another day at the Daily Planet. He loved his job, no doubt about that, but sometimes the grind of it all got to him. Lois, on the other hand, never seemed to mind the endless drive to be first, to be the reporter to get the "story of the century."

Foregoing a late dinner, Clark crept into his bedroom, cautious not to make noise and wake Jimmy. He really wasn't in the mood for the younger man's incessant chatter, at least not tonight. Thursday was only a few hours away, and he would like to get some rest before he had to face a too-cheery Jimmy, a grim-faced Perry, and no-nonsense Lois.

He set his alarm for five-thirty and fell into bed. Thankfully, the night was quiet. No blaring alarms, no screams for help. Not even an annoyingly barking dog, nothing but a snoring Jimmy Olsen next door. Clark smiled, closed his eyes, and conjured an image he hadn't seen in too many days. "Diana," he sighed, the image taking form in his mind, her face as beautiful as ever, her eyes a majestic shade of blue that Clark couldn't help falling into whenever she looked upon him. "Diana," he said again when the image smiled at him, a sexy curve of her lips that was both an invitation and a tease.

"Diana." The name was a moan now, driven by need and want and longing for something that was just beyond his reach. "Diana."

"Yes, Clark."

The voice sounded so clear, so perfect, so much like the Diana of his dreams. "Come to me. Let me—"

A subtle draft disturbed the room. A whisper of air brushed his bare legs. And a scent, familiar and sweet and wholly unexpected. Clark's eyes flew open. And there, hovering just inside his bedroom, window wide open, was a dream made real. "Diana?"

"How many times do you intend to say my name?" With a silent landing, Diana lowered herself to the floor."

Clark rubbed his eyes, trying to reconcile his dream with the reality that Diana was standing in his bedroom, only inches from his bed. And it was Diana who was before him, not Wonder Woman. She wore no lasso, sword, or Amazonian armor. Not even her priceless tiara. No, the statuesque beauty before him wore a pair of dress casual black pants, gold and black sandals, and a sleeveless black silk shirt that dipped sensually into a V, teasing the eye for what it didn't reveal.

Dragging his eyes up to the ones staring at him, Clark couldn't help but lick suddenly dry lips. The woman was too damn gorgeous for her own good, made worse by the fact that she seemed to put little effort into looking the way she did, or even noticed the effect she had on men.

"I had just turned in for the night," he said, not answering her question and foolishly stating the obvious.

"Perhaps I should've called first." Diana suddenly looked uncomfortable, unsure of herself. Dammit, he hadn't meant to make her feel unwelcomed. Just the opposite, her surprise visit was the highlight of his day. Hell, his whole damn week. "I should go."

"No, no . . . uh, don't do that." Clark swiftly jumped from his bed, getting to the window and closing it before the woman did something crazy like fly away into the night, taking her spring fresh scent and kissable lips with her.

"I should've called," she repeated.

"It doesn't matter, Diana. I'm glad to see you."

"Are you?" This shy, unsure side of Diana never ceased to surprise him. As Wonder Woman, the Amazon was a frightening force to behold. But when she was just being Diana, the woman, well, she was beyond adorable, a little vulnerable and a whole lot sexy.

"Of course, I've been thinking about you." He touched her hand. "I've been wanting to see you, hoping you would have time to fit me into your busy schedule."

She shook her head. "I—I . . . sometimes I lose track of time. I have those who depend on me and I can't let them down."

"It's okay. I understand." It was a partial truth. He didn't know much about Diana's personal life. She hadn't shared, and he didn't know if he should ask. This thing between them, whatever it was, was so new. He didn't want to ruin it by pushing into territory Diana may not be ready to go. But this unexpected midnight visit of hers, well, Clark decided he would take that as a good sign.

"I was hoping you would like to go flying with me."

"Flying?"

"Yes, Clark," she said, laughter in her voice, "the little air thing we both can do." She lifted a few inches off the floor, imitated a bird flying, then settled back in front of him, a full grin lighting his room and his heart.

"You think you're cute, don't you?"

She shrugged. "I just thought it would be fun. But if you're too tired from all that reporting you do all day . . ." Another shrug. "I'm sure typing and sitting in front of a computer all day must be exhausting work for the Man of Steel."

Oh, the Amazon had jokes, and she wasn't even trying to hide her sarcasm or the blatant challenge that burned in her eyes.

She glanced down at his night pants, then up to his bare chest. And the challenge slowly ebbed, replaced with smoldering heat and female recognition. Then their eyes met and she said in a tone gone husky, "You shared the Kent farm with me. I would like to share something with you."

Neither looked away, just continued to hold the other's gaze. And Clark wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to worship the demigoddess with mouth and tongue. But she was moving away from him and toward the window. She opened it and out she went, floating, the challenge back in her eyes.

"Are you coming?"

Thirty seconds later, Clark was dressed in jeans, a short sleeve shirt, and a pair of tennis shoes.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Diana set a moderate pace. She didn't seem to be in much of a hurry. No, she simply flew—unrushed and carefree. Following her lead, he did the same.

"Close your eyes, Clark."

"What?"

She didn't stop flying, just closed her eyes and repeated her statement.

Watching her fly blind for a few seconds, Clark did as she asked and closed his eyes. He never flew like this. Never just flew for the sake of flying. But that's exactly what he was doing now, his other senses more than capable of guiding him. So he let them, and he relaxed into the flight.

Then he felt her, her hand in his. She held it, arm outstretched, leading him through the clouds and misty rain. And not since he was a teen learning how to fly, Clark marveled at being one with this part of nature. He sensed every wisp of air, heard every flap of bird wings, and even smelled the acid in the slowing rain around them. Clark gloried in it all. The tension from the day graciously fell away, replaced by serenity.

And all he was doing was flying. An act he performed every single day. But not like this. Not with Diana. How had she known? How could she know that he never did this, that there was no one for him to do this with? Perhaps because she too always flew alone. And maybe, just maybe, their outing was more about the journey than the destination.

Clark liked that idea. He liked Diana, her innocent way of viewing the world. She was a seeker of truth, a harbinger of honesty, a warrior who preferred peace. And a woman. One I want to get to know better.

He sensed her slowing then fully stop. Clark opened his eyes. They were so high up, he saw little more than mists and clouds. But Diana was staring at something below them, her face and body taut.

She began to descend. He followed. And as he broke through the clouds, he felt it. Magic. Soft and alluring, it slithered through his body. But Clark wasn't fooled by the gentle stroking of the magic. No, it also halted his progress, stilled every limb in his body.

"Come closer," Diana said. But he couldn't move, couldn't even blink. She reached out her hand to him and said, "You are my guest here, come closer."

At her words, the magical binds that held him captive snapped. He flew next to Diana. And now he could see an island. Themyscira?

"Is that your home?"

She nodded, eyes cast down on the silent island below, and Clark wondered why she hadn't descended farther. But he held his tongue. The reporter in him knew there was more here than met the eye, but a good reporter also knew when not to push, to let the story come to him.

"Like your Kansas farm," Diana began, "this used to be my home." There was a tremor of pain and regret in her voice. "I had a mother and sisters . . . but . . . but they are no longer with me."

He didn't know what she meant by that. As far as Clark knew, Amazons were immortal. Had they all died? Or something else?

"I've heard humans say that you can't choose your family but you can choose your friends. When I first came to Man's World I didn't understand what that meant." She looked up and at him. "I do now."

Diana turned away from her childhood home, her hand going up to wipe a single tear. And Clark couldn't help but wonder how many times she did this. Come home but knowing there was nothing left for her here. Just like me and the farm, an empty house with nothing but silence and memories. A lonely existence.

"What do you want to do now?" Clark asked.

Diana hovered an arm's length away, the twinkle having returned to her eyes. "There was this one game I never played with my sisters because they said I had an unfair advantage, and I've seen human children play it as well." The twinkle grew into a mischievous gleam a moment before Diana slapped him on the shoulder, yelled, "You're it," and took off like a rocket.

Its? Diana, Princess of Themyscira, Justice Leaguer, and Wonder Woman wanted to play Its. And she already had a head start. Well, no way would Clark Kent let that stand. He was, after all, Superman. Taking one last look at Paradise Island and Diana's past, Clark sped away from the tiny island, breaking the sound barrier in search of his future.

Clark had to quiet his laughter when he and Diana climbed back through his bedroom window. Who knew the game of Horse could be played in the air? Apparently, Diana did, and the Amazon had crazy, acrobatic moves that were death-defying and amazingly fun. She was fun. She knew how to have fun, appreciating her powers in a way that he'd forgotten to.

"You know," he said, "I don't think tonight's outing count as a real date."

"Why not? Must a meal or movie be involved?"

Clark couldn't tell if her question was genuine or if she was poking fun at him again. "I guess not, but I would like to take you out to dinner, and I haven't been to the movies in months. Have you ever been to the movies, Diana?"

She laughed at him. "There are many things I have yet to experience since coming to Man's World, but going to the theatre isn't one of them. Although, I'm not particularly fond of horror movies. I just can't stand to watch women say stupid things, do something even stupider, then get killed by a male with power issues."

Horror movies. It sounded like a Steve Trevor kind of date. Clark almost growled at the thought. Diana wasn't with Steve anymore. And while he wondered all that their relationship entailed, he really didn't want to know.

All he wanted to know was— He pulled Diana to him. "Have dinner with me Saturday night. I know a place I think you'll like." Hands wrapped around lean, firm waist. The Amazon had not an ounce of fat on her.

"A date?"

"Yes, but without the horror movie. I think we get our fill of horror being on the League. What do you say? Are you busy Saturday night?"

She shook her head.

"Good, then we can meet at the farm. I'll call you Friday with the details."

"Sounds good."

He knew he should let her go, let her fly home so they both could get some rest. But Clark couldn't, Diana simply felt too good in his arms. He'd been wanting to kiss her the entire night. No time had seemed right though. Now, well, now he could no longer resist.

Leaning in, Clark claimed her mouth. Soft and tender, he kissed her. And she kissed him back, wrapping long arms around his neck and pulling him even closer. He went, sinking deeper into the kiss, opening his mouth and inviting her tongue inside. She came, sweeping in with sensual, deliberate strokes, twining with his tongue.

He fought the moan and the heat she elicited, her warm, curvy body so deliciously pressed against his own. And, damn, Diana could kiss. She didn't kiss like a woman with years of experience or even one with practiced coyness. No, Diana kissed him with genuine desire and passion, her kisses as honest as the woman herself.

So they held each other and kissed. And kissed. And kissed. And kissed some more.

An alarm had them jumping apart. Clark glared at the offending device. My damn alarm clock. He was tempted to smash the thing to smithereens, then thought better of it and simply walked over to it and switched it off. But the moment was lost, the date over, another work day before him.

"I should be leaving."

"I guess so. I have to be to work in an hour."

She smiled, did a 180, and when she stopped Wonder Woman had replaced Diana. "I have monitor duty in thirty minutes."

She flew to and out the window. "Thank you for coming flying with me."

He walked to the window, wanting one last glimpse. "It was the best non-date I ever had."

She laughed then lifted further into the sky. "See you Saturday, Clark."

He waved goodbye then shut and locked the window. On second thought, Clark unlocked the window. Maybe his Peter Pan would find her way to his window again. Clark could only hope, because flying with Diana was like reaching for the sun and finding heaven.