Dancing With Superman

by Toomi8


*****

“Please, Lois.”

“Why does it have to be me?” I ask in response to Perry’s plea.

“They need a celebrity, and you’re our most famous reporter.”

Nice touch, Perry. A bit of flattery that won’t work right now. “What about anyone else? Clark? The new science reporter? What’s his name? Peter? What about Jimmy?”

“I’m sorry, darlin’. Cat always filled in for us and I neglected to inform the selection committee that she’d moved last summer. They assigned the Planet to fill a ladies spot for the event and it’s too late to change it.”

I glare at Jimmy who was standing behind Perry and trying his hardest not to laugh. At least Clark had the decency to look down and pick at some fake mark on his tie. Though given the gaudiness of the tie, it could be some of his lunch that dribbled, or part of the pattern.

“I can’t, I’m busy that night.” I am not doing this charity event.

“Perry hasn’t told you what night it is yet,” Clark helpfully points out.

I give him the most withering look I can muster, hoping he would butt out.

Clark ignores the glare. “It’s for charity, and it’s just one dance.”

“You’ll get to rub shoulders with Metropolis’ elite-”

“I’ve done that before and it’s not anything to get excited about,” I quickly interrupt Perry. “It’s just another ball. Dinner, small talk, watered down drinks in tiny glasses, and a fancy dress I’ll just trip over all night long.” Not to mention some great oaf stomping on my poor toes.

“Alice and I will be there, plus the other competitors. You’ll have a few lessons and rehearsals before the event and you’ll be taught a dance-”

“I can dance!”

“Then what’s the issue?” eggs on Clark.

I sigh, feeling my resistance start to fade. It was just one night, and for a good cause. “Who would my partner be?”

“You won’t know until you arrive for your first rehearsal.”

“Fine, Perry. Just this once. Though if my partner is awful, I might not go through with it.”

“You’ll be fine, darlin’. I’m sure the committee will find you the perfect partner.”

I swear Perry winks at me as he walks away. I glare at Clark who finds something fascinating on his desk, and turn to face Jimmy, who has taken a page out of Clark’s book and vanished.

****

As I park the Jeep I feel a mixture of concern and frustration at the lack of vehicles in the parking lot. I am running a little late, but only thirty minutes, and considering my dance partner has backed out twice so far, I’m still the more punctual one. The two cancelled rehearsals have annoyed me as while I’m sure I can hold my own, I’d like to take advantage of all the rehearsals to have the best chance at winning. I refuse to admit the still unknown identity of my dance partner is grating at me, no matter how much Perry teases me about it. After waiting a few more minutes to see if anyone else parks, I grab my purse, lock the Jeep, and walk towards the studio's entrance.

It’s not much to look at, an inconspicuous door in between two storefronts, and as I open it, I can hear piano music coming from upstairs. The studio occupies the floor above the shops and I climb the narrow stairs, the music getting louder with each step. Whatever is playing is fast and I hope this isn’t the music we’ll be dancing to. I can already feel my poor toes protest some oaf stomping on them while he learns his steps.

At the top of the stairs I walk through an unlit room towards a partially opened door where the music and light are coming from. As I stop into the studio, the music stops.

“Ah! Ms. Lane! Glad you can make it.”

A short man who had been sitting at the piano jumped up, the piano stool squeaking horribly across the floor as it was pushed back.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I was caught up in the newsroom.”

“That is not a problem. You are here! And so is your partner.”

I turn to face the direction the pianist is gesturing and almost drop my purse in shock.

“Hello, Lois.”

Sitting in a chair, his cape brushing the floor, is Superman. I’ll have to thank Perry tomorrow I muse as I pick my jaw up from the ground.

“Hi, Superman. I wasn’t aware you participated in the Christmas Charity Ball.”

“I’ve been reluctant as I wouldn’t want to leave a dance partner behind in the event I have to leave in an emergency. I was assured my assigned partner would be understanding.”

“Yes, of course.” That explains the cancelled rehearsals.

“I see you know each other.”

As the pianist speaks I’m reminded that Superman and I aren’t the only ones in the room.

“I am Pierre, and I will be your instructor for the competition. Now, if you please…”

Pierre looks at me a little impatiently and I hastily remove my coat and set my purse on the chair Superman had been occupying. I feel a sudden awkwardness as I approach Superman and take his offered hand. We assume the standard dancing position, my hand upon his shoulder, his hand on my waist, and our clasped hands, outstretched. We are so far apart, you could have parked a city bus between us.

Why is this weird? We’ve danced before, albeit for one song and it was less dancing and more floating. It had been a highlight of my year, that short moment of intimacy that I rarely share with anyone.

Except Clark.

Clark knows more about me than anyone else I’ve danced with Clark plenty of times. He’s usually invited to the same events I am, and is a surprisingly good dancer.

“No, no, no! This will not do.”

Pierre’s exclamation brings me back to the present, jarringly so as he pushes Superman and I closer together. I think a mosquito would have struggled to fly between us. While Pierre continues to correct our posture, he talks about the dance we will perform.

“This dance is sensual. You will not earn points if you do not act like you mean it. If you dance like wooden soldiers, you will not win. You must hold one another as though you care, though first we must learn the steps.”

Superman releases my hand and we turn to watch Pierre while I try to control my hammering heart and focus on what I am being taught. If I hadn’t been so flustered at the brief close contact with Superman, I would have found it much more amusing to watch Pierre dance with him to teach him the steps. Of course Superman picks it up right away; it takes me a few more attempts to grasp the basic step. By the end of the rehearsal we have heard our piece of music, and are able to complete the basic step.

Superman walks me to my car, we exchange pleasantries, and I watch as he flies away, finally able to breathe normally. Being that close to him had been overwhelming and flustering, setting me off balance. I find myself determined to practice and not let my dance partner down.

****

I growl in frustration and turn the music off. It is nearly impossible to rehearse a dance needing a partner while I’m at home, alone. There’s only a week left and I’ve had one rehearsal where Superman showed up, so I’ve been rehearsing with Pierre. I try to not be annoyed with Superman’s absences as he’s doing needed rescue work, but it is frustrating. We’ve tried to reschedule a few times but it ended up being a better compromise for us to rehearse separately.

Instead I’ve picked up a book, and a VHS from the library. The VHS is useless, and the book isn’t much more helpful. Stationary pictures trying to portray movement are adding to my frustration and it would be exceptionally helpful to have another person here to try to figure this out.

A knock at the door disrupts my grumpy thoughts and I feel a sense of relief as I see Clark in the peephole.

“Are you busy?”

“No,” I laugh. “Not really.”

“It sounded like you could use a break.”

I laugh as he hands me a coffee. Clark always seems to know when I need a moment and right before he knocked I was on the verge of tossing the cassette with a copy of the music out of the window.

“Thanks, Clark.”

“Can I help in any way?” He asks as he takes off his coat and shoes.

Just like Clark to offer, even though he has no idea what it could involve. Though… Clark is a good dancer. Maybe he can help!

“Actually, yes!” The rules stated we couldn’t reveal who our partner was before the competition, but I don’t remember anything about rehearsing the dance with someone who wasn’t our dance partner.

“My dance partner has had to miss a few rehearsals,” I state carefully. There’s always the chance that Superman told Clark that he was involved in the charity event this year. “I need some help mastering some of these steps.”

“And you thought a book would help?” Clark asks skeptically as he turns the book towards him.

I shrug. “I was getting a bit desperate.”

“Ok.”

There are some things about Clark that make me want to scream in frustration, but this makes up for it, almost. Some days it feels as though I can say anything to him, ask him any favour I can think of, and he’ll calmly say ‘ok.’

“Do you know this dance?”

He nods as he flips through the pages of the instructional book, before closing it and pushing it back onto the coffee table. He stands and takes my hand, placing his other hand on my waist. With ample space between us, we focus on our steps until I turn, and bash my ankle on a leg of the coffee table.

After some muttered curses, followed by assurances to Clark that I’m fine, he suggests we move the furniture a little further back. I reluctantly agree. With a clear space in the living room free to move around, we return to our dancing position.

It’s surprising how easy it becomes. Clark picks up the dance easily, despite my poor description, and the actual dancing is nowhere near as awkward as it felt dancing with Superman. It’s comfortable, and relaxing, while we laugh every time I step on his toes.

After a few successful dances with the music, Clark pulls me close, so close that not even a mosquito can fit between us. We dance, perfectly in sync, and as the music finishes, he lets go, twirling me before finishing in a dip, my arms around his neck, his hands on my back supporting me. Neither of us move, our faces inches apart. I finally understand what Pierre keeps trying to hammer into my head, that this dance is a sensual dance. It was hard to feel that with the instructor, but with Clark, I’m on the verge of succumbing to passion.

The cassette begins to whir as it rewinds, breaking the moment between us. Clark gently raises me upright, releasing me when I’ve found my physical equilibrium. I should go get a glass of water, step away from Clark, but I can’t.

“Again?” Clark asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I can’t find my voice and nod instead. He hits play on the stereo, takes my hand, and before I can come to my senses and object, I’m in his arms again as the music begins.

****

“Sorry I’m late.”

I sigh in relief as Superman walks through the door. It’s our last rehearsal and I had hoped we’d have a chance to practice together before the charity event. Dancing with Clark has been wonderful, but I still want to win. Who has Superman been rehearsing with? Has he had time to rehearse?

As we begin to dance I have a moment of longing for Clark. We’ve had several rehearsals and each dance felt more natural, and comfortable. Now I’m in Superman’s arms, I feel awkward, too close and none of the sensuality I had felt with Clark was to be found. Despite my awkwardness, Pierre doesn’t say anything other than pointing out a few moves.

We end the final dance and Pierre wishes us the best while Superman walks me to my Jeep.

“You’ve been practicing,” I remark jokingly.

“I’m sorry, Lois. I didn’t want to let you down. I know how much you like to win.”

I stare at him in surprise as I would not have expected that bit of snark from him. He seems to realize that he spoke more familiarly than usual and we fall into an awkward moment of silence.

“Well, I should head home and I’m sure you have things to keep you busy.”

“Yes, of course. Good night, Lois.”

I watch as he flew away wondering how on earth I got to the point of dancing with Superman but daydreaming about Clark.

****

The charity dance is unlike many of the other large upscale events in the city as it doesn’t serve a meal. Instead, competitors stay backstage until the dancing portion of the event is over, and then join the remainder of the event. There are comedians, and other acts, leading up the competition, and after, dancing, drinks and snacks.

I’m somewhat relieved that I’m sequestered backstage as I don’t have to deal with magicians, or small talk. Superman and I are scheduled last as the organizers didn’t want anyone to know he was participating as he would be the big reveal. I have seen a few celebrity faces but couldn’t say if they were dancing, or part of the celebration.

I can hear the music playing for the various performances, and the crowd’s enthusiastic applause. As I count down to our performance, I begin to worry that Superman is called away. There’s no television near for me to check if that is the case and as I’m about to reach the wringing hands stage, he enters the dressing room with the stage manager. We are ushered towards the stage, and await our announcement.

As the live band plays our entrance, I’m aware of how nervous I am. The crowd cheers for us, though I’m sure it’s for Superman’s benefit, and I try to settle my heartbeat as the band begins to play our music. The rehearsals with Pierre wouldn’t have been enough, I muse as I flow with ease through the moves. As I think about Clark and our own dancing practice in my apartment, I try to look out into the crowd to see if I can spot him. I want to laugh at myself. I’m in Superman’s arms, and all I can think of is Clark again. I return to focusing on the steps, not wanting to allow a little bit of complacency ruin our chances of winning.

The music ends as Superman, to my surprise, dips me, much like Clark had done. Curiously, Superman looks a little startled, as though he hadn’t intended to, as that wasn’t the rehearsed ending to the dance, just something Clark and I had done. Superman and I stand, then bow as the audience applauds and I see the judges tallying their scores. The other couples in the competition join us on the dance floor as the scores are read. I’m floored when Superman and I win first place. We are presented with a small trophy, and a large bouquet of flowers. The representative from our chosen charity, the Superman Foundation, steps up to receive the presentation cheque as their winnings, and all the couples congratulate each other.

“Lois? May I have a moment?”

“Of course,” I agree and follow Superman away from the others.

“I wanted to thank you. It can’t have been easy with my erratic schedule.”

“It’s ok, I had help.”

“I’m sorry about the end-”

“That’s ok. It’s funny, that’s what Clark and I had rehearsed so it wasn’t a complete surprise.”

He smiles awkwardly at me, before handing me the small trophy.

“Can you keep this?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks, Lois.”

He places a kiss on my cheek before striding towards the exit, away from the crowds.

Perry, Alice and several others from work stop by to congratulate me, but there’s only one person I’m looking for, and I wave as I spot him near the bar.

“Congratulations, Lois.”

I smile as Clark hands me a flower.

“Thanks, Clark.” It wasn’t just any flower, but a single chocolate rose. I like this more than the large bouquet I’m holding.

“Well, that’s my cue,” Perry states as the band begins to play again. He gracefully leads Alice to the dance floor, along with many other couples, leaving Clark and I alone.

“I need a drink. I’m parched.” It had been warm dancing under those lights.

Clark leads me towards the bar and I gratefully accept water before ordering a glass of wine. We find a table to sit at and I place the bouquet on the table, but keep hold of my chocolate rose. Can I keep it? Will it go bad if I don’t eat it?

We sit and chat, while eating the h’orderves that are being served, until Clark suggests we dance. I accept eagerly and we join the couples on the dance floor. Dancing with Superman was amazing. All the rehearsing had paid off and we had flowed perfectly together, only there was one thing missing. Dancing with Clark had been warm, comfortable and incredibly sexy, which I was having a hard time admitting to myself.

After a few dances, I find my mind wandering again, this time pondering how Superman had become so good at the dance with minimal rehearsals. Perhaps he’d rehearsed separately. But with whom? Pierre? At that thought, I snort to contain my laughter.

“What is it?”

“I was wondering how Superman was able to rehearse.”

“Oh.”

“I laughed as I pictured him rehearsing with Pierre.” While Clark smiles at my remark, I hadn’t missed the brief sadness that had crossed his expression, and kick myself mentally. I’m dancing with someone who I know cares for me, and perhaps I’m starting to care for as well, while pondering aloud what another man is doing.

“He rehearsed.”

“Oh?”

A thousand questions form but I clamp my mouth shut. He obviously had rehearsed, so what difference did it make now?

As the music shifts to a slower dance and Clark shifts his posture to give me a chance to end the dancing. On an impulse, I pull him toward me and am rewarded as he places his hand on the small of my back and holds me close. It’s a similar rhythm to the one I have just been rehearsing for weeks and I find myself falling into step, albeit a slower step, with Clark. Once again I find myself spinning and being dipped. I look at Clark and am taken aback by the intense expression, tinged with something I can’t pin down. Either way, it takes my breath away but the moment is broken as the band announces a brief intermission while the dancers applaud.

“Clark! We’ll have to get you signed up next year.”

Perry strides over with Alice and good naturedly slaps Clark on the back. Clark adjusts his glasses and I lose track of the conversation as my thoughts go in every direction.

How had Clark learned that dance so fast? He’s a quick learner but he picked up all the moves, even the ones that weren’t in the book I’d tried. Plus there was the dip at the end of the dance, a move he had done with me, and one that Superman had used tonight.

Clark catches me scrutinizing him, and once again fidgets with his glasses. There’s something there, but I feel like I can’t quite connect the dots yet.

Once the band returns, I accept a few dances from acquaintances before deciding I’ve had enough dancing for the evening. Clark and I listen as the end of the evening speeches are done and we all applaud the money raised for the various chosen charities. The entire time I’m distracted. Clark’s suddenly awkward behaviour is only adding to my ponderings and suddenly I’m eager for the night to be over so I can talk to him.

“Clark, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Ok. I’ll walk you to your Jeep.”

“I took a taxi here.”

Clark gathers the bouquet while I hold onto the trophy and the chocolate rose, and we say our farewells to coworkers and friends. Once outside, I stop Clark as he is about to call a taxi.

“I’d rather walk.”

“You can’t walk home alone.”

“I won’t be alone,” I say as I slip my arm around his. “I think it’ll be a good time for us to talk.”

I don’t imagine the flash of guilt across his face.

“Clark?” I ask after several minutes of silence.

“I’m sorry, Lois.”

I have no idea what he’s apologizing for.

“I did think you’d be more upset though,” he continues when I don’t react.

I’m completely lost now.

“I thought it was a good compromise…”

“What are you talking about?”

Now it’s his turn to be confused.

“Clark, I should be the one apologizing. The last few weeks have been wonderful. I always enjoy when we hang out, and I appreciate your willingness to help me rehearse for this competition.”

I can’t find the words. I like you? It sounds so juvenile. Flustered under his curious gaze, I give him a quick kiss him on impulse. Clark stares at me in shock which is not the reaction I had expected.

“I should have expected this,” he says sadly.

Are we having two completely different conversations about opposite topics?

“Look, Lois. Superman-”

“What are you talking about? Superman has nothing to do with this.”

Once again, it’s his turn to be bewildered.

“If anything it was dancing with you both that made me realize something. Clark, my crush on Superman was just that, a crush. What I feel for you is real.”

Bewilderment is replaced by wide eyes and relief, before he smiles at me. I laugh and kiss him again, only this time he returns the kiss.

My mind can’t focus while our lips are connected, and as soon as we break for air, the questions flood in. Why did he look so worried, and then relieved? What was it about Superman that had him so concerned?

I frown as I think, and once again Clark looks uncomfortable, nervously fiddling with his glasses. The memory of Clark dipping me in my apartment morphs into the memory of Superman dipping me unexpectedly tonight and it dawns on me. This is how Superman rehearsed, and why we seemed so in sync.

I know I’ve come to the right thoughts as Clark immediately begins to apologize again. It’s too much at this moment to hash out: all the coincidences, the lies, and the times Clark has saved me.

“Can you take me home? I think this conversation is probably best somewhere where we won't be overheard and it’s getting cold.”

This time I see hope, accompanied by a smile, as Clark nods before pulling me into an alley. As he spins into the Suit, scoops me into his arms and we fly towards my apartment, I remind myself that there are two fragile hearts involved, even if one is made of steel, and our conversation tonight could break either one. Despite the unanswered questions and betrayal I feel, we will tread lightly, and hopefully find a way to move forward together.

-------------------------------

Prompts by BlindPassenger

Want:
-Someone figuring "it" out
-Chocolate
-A Book

Don’t Want
-Villains
-Ex-love-interests
-Ralph

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Last edited by SuperBek; 01/22/24 04:26 PM.