Lewis' meeting with the President had been gossip buzzing through their staff over the last week and a half. An extremely rare interview snagged by their company, much less by one of their top employees. Lewis was a fine worker with a good nose for a story, always interested in pursuing what was next. As if chasing the high.

Clara was proud of him. Lewis was a fine colleague to call her own, even if she preferred their relationship to be more intimate. And while she pretended to be jealous here and there of his accomplishments to blend it, she was simply content to know that he was doing well.

Clara hadn't been doing anything much during the scheduled time of the interview. She knew it wouldn't be her place to interrupt the helicopter meeting, so she grabbed her coat and got ready to depart at the same time she always did.

That's when she heard it. A low, rumbling crash that trembled through the building. Clara had been on the ground floor when it had happened, and stumbled outside to join the crowd as she stared up, one of the many observers to what was above them.

On the side of the building's ledge, right where it didn't belong, a helicopter dangled. Smoke bellowed from the engine as the helicopter sagged with weight, so deeply unstable. Ready to bow to the natural order of gravity and tumble over onto the unsuspecting crowd below.

And underneath that helicopter, dangling by a single cord, was Lewis.

Clara could only stare for a moment, trying to figure out how the hell Lewis managed to get into that situation before she felt her body move. Autopilot took hold as Clara spun on her heels and all but threw herself forward through the crowd, gently pushing people aside as she hunted down anywhere that could hide her away for a quick change into her other outfit.

Clara manages to duck into a simple agency building, claiming the first revolver door her eyes stumbled upon. In under a minute her clothes were switched out for her preferred outfit, and Clara took to the streets, her dark hair waving in the wind as she stood tall and proud. Not the same girl that wore bug-eyed glasses, or the same farm girl who wore baggy sweaters and pants. No, this was the true her.

A woman tries to stop her, calling out a question that Clara ignores. She gives a brief smile, holding up a hand with a quiet, "Excuse me, ma'am,", before Clara leapt into the air.

At a good time too, it seemed. As Clara dove upwards through the wind, her hair flapping behind her, she could see the fragile cord Lewis was holding onto snapping. After a moment, the man was screaming as he begun to plummet downwards toward the concrete below him.

Clara doesn't let him, naturally. It's almost quite simple to sweep her arms underneath him and gather him up, holding Lewis close against her broad chest as she stabilized him. The man startles from the sudden lack of falling, glancing over at Clara with wild eyes.

Cute.

"Easy sir," She giggles, giving a toothy smile. "I got you."

"You got me," He breathes out, sounding so relieved that it was nothing above a whisper. But then Lewis looked around, staring at the floating girl before his arms snap forward and wrap around her neck. "But whose got you?"

Above the crowd of reporters and onlookers, Clara continues to rise above them, aiming for the top of the building where the helicopter sagged.

Just as she glanced up, there was a horrible creaking noise, and the helicopter tumbled over the edge directly towards her and Lewis.

Lewis gasped, a scream caught in his throat as he stared at the oncoming obstacle. She could feel his panicked body freezing against hers, too scared to move. Clara continued flying towards it, despite the horrified gasps of the crowd beneath them, and lets her free arm outstretch upwards.

The helicopter may be heavy for other people, but Clara is anything but normal. It lands in her hand easily, the weight nothing compared to other things she's carried over the years. The metal is cold against her palm, seeping the warmth from her body in much the same way the cold snow had so long ago. The onlookers below all cheer and scream with delight, likely in awe at the strength of her.

Admittedly, it fills her heart with pride. And love, too, as she listens to Lewis gasp and press against her, staring at Clara in awe. Clara wants to hold him close and never let go, but she knows that's not exactly a great idea.

So instead, Clara settles for landing on the roof, dropping off both the helicopter and her man as she settles onto the stable floor. Lewis nearly sags under his own weight, glancing back and forth between the helicopter and Clara in sheer shock.

"Well, I do certainly hope you're not afraid of flying after this," Clara giggles, flicking her arm towards the two workers standing adjacent to them, shocked into a stillness. At her prompting, they begin to surge forward, medical equipment tucked underneath their arms. "It's still statistically the most safest form of travel."

"Okay," Lewis breaths out, not quite there at the moment. He nods quickly, so very out of breath. It's adorable to watch.

"Alright then. Good day, Sir," Clara giggles, spinning on her heels and walking away, getting ready to soar off into the night sky once more.

"Wait!" Lewis calls out, taking a few steps forward.

Clara glances over her shoulders at him. Lewis stares forward, the wind in his hair and a wild blush on his cheeks. He stares at Clara in a way she's never seen him stare before.

"Who are you?" Lewis asks.

Clara hums to herself for a moment. Frankly, she hadn't thought of a name, and using her home name felt wrong as well.

"A friend," Clara settles for, before giving him a bright, dazzling smile and launching herself up into the air. Bidding him a pleasant goodbye as she went off to save others.

And save others Clara did. That night was one of hustling, busy jumping back and forth between incidents and crime without an inkling of doubt. No hesitation.

The first big incident since saving Lewis was a bank robbery. The kind with three masked men, a bag full of money, the typical cliche one would imagine stumbling into that scene. Clara briefly wondered if this was staged from how simplistic it was. The cowering hostages, the men with guns and a confused stare toward the new heroine in town. The unnamed heroine who made a sudden appearance on television.

"Who are you?" One of the robbers hisses.

Clara doesn't have an answer yet, but she doesn't need one. Instead, the woman smiles, tilting her shoulders back with a preparation to lunge forward.

"Someone here to save the day," Clara says gleefully, and lunges.

It's not much of a fight. The men all had their guns on safety, and fumbling to make the weapons lethal was plenty enough time for Clara to dive in and give them hell. One simple punch rendered each one unconscious, and each victory brought waves of cheers from the onlookers.

Untying the hostages was easy, their gleeful thanks and tears of joy bringing more warmth to Clara's chest. A hero, one had proclaimed, grasping at her hands.

Clara smiled with delight. She was a hero.

Following that, she stopped a house invasion. It was quite simply to spot, a dark hooded figure with a crowbar trying to jam up a window so they could cozy their way inside. Clara didn't even need to stop her flight; simply swooped down and stole the man away before dropping him off at the nearest police station.

Once the day had come to a close, and crimes had been stopped, Clara gives herself a break. She flies up over the city, lingering one last time over the people before delving forward and allowing herself to fly back toward her fortress. To see her Mother, naturally.

Her Mother waited for her, per usual, a smile on her face and a gleam in her eyes. Clara landed easily in front of her Mother, the person who guided her for years on end to master her powers.

The woman giggles. "You had fun, didn't you?"

Clara pauses, tilting her head. "Huh?"

"With saving them, saving innocent people. It must have felt nice showing off your full powers, using them for good."

Clara blushes at the statement, an undeniable fact of her night. It had been good. So very good indeed. The kind of adventures that made her squint and squirm when the confession of her enjoyment did slip out. Her Mother, a judge not of character nor events, simply nodded and smiled.

"How did you know?" Clara asks.

"I predicted everything you would come across, Clara. Every event. Every incident. I did so, my daughter, so I could know you. Get to love you, even when I only had you for a moment."

Clara's chest warmed at the thought.

"But I also did it so I could warn you," Her Mother continues, her voice nearly turning grim. "There is risk in your power. You mustn't be in your heroine form for Earth. They need your protection, but becoming their constant protection would only stifle their growth. Remain in your disguise, and remain vigilant. There will be times for you to step in. Trust your judgement."

"I will," Clara agrees easily. "Thank you, Mother."

"Of course. I trust you. You've grown into a wonderful woman."

_

The meeting comes the following day.

Of course it's expected to come. One of their best workers almost died from an interview, and stumbled across a new savior that was all of the rage across media. Despite the scare Lewis got yesterday, he was still present in work, looking a bit more shaken up than usual.

Penny White begins with a simple speech congratulating Lewis for both getting the interview and surviving such an ordeal, her words quick and snipped, customary for a quick, professional acknowledgement before delving into the typical topics they had to go over. Mainly regarding the new appearance of the upcoming hero who had saved Lewis, and how their company could capitalize on her and profit from it. A typical and frankly, expected approach to her.

The workers all around her talk about this heroine in awe, and Clara has to fight down a thankful blush from all of the praise, instead focusing on the note she had been working on. Everyone around her was scrambling to hunt down this new hero and secure an interview with them, but Clara knew it was a fruitless endeavor. There's only one man in this city that she would allow to interview her, and it was that very man that she left a note in his mailbox. Unsigned, of course. She wouldn't want to be known as standing him up, even if she did technically show later.

_

When she sees Lewis again, she's just a tad bit later than when the note said she would meet him. His eyebrows were furrowed from being stood up, foot tapping as he drunk directly from the bottle settled to his left on a table out on his open balcony. It's a nice little set up he had out there, with a clean railing Clara lands upon without so much as a sound.

"Good evening, Mr. Lane."

Lewis Lane jumps, nearly dropping his drink as he turns around to stare at Clara. Instantly, a flush takes over his cheeks, and the man gapes as he stares at the hero settled perfectly upon his thin railing.

"Hi," Lewis chokes out, immediately crossing his legs as his face continuously turned red.

"Oh, did you have plans for tonight?" Clara asks.

"No, no, not at all!" Lewis heaves out, quick stepping around his chair.

"If you are, I can-"

"No!" Lewis nearly shouts, stumbling over himself to get closer. "Not at all. Don't- don't fly away, I'm completely free." He rubs at the back of his neck, looking so adorably sheepish that Clara has to refrain from whisking him away into her arms. "What are you doing here?"

"I figured there was a lot of questions the public would want to ask me," Clara explains, offering a half hearted shrug. "And why not have you ask them?"

The two eventually settle at the table after a quick reprimanding from Clara regarding Lewis and a pack of cigarettes he had on him. Thankfully he didn't have lung cancer yet, but that was a nasty habit she hoped he wouldn't pursue. And it looks like it wasn't anything major yet, considering how easily he set aside it in favor of pleasing her.

"Would you like a drink?" Lewis asks, holding up a bottle of an admittedly fine looking wine. Tempting as it was, Clara very much preferred a sober flight to an intoxicated one.

"No thank you," Clara hums, settling into the seat across from Lewis. Crossing her legs, she leans back, smiling gently at him. "I don't drink when I fly."

"Right," Lewis chokes, tugging at his collar. "Right. Do you... mind if I record this?" A smartphone in his hand tilts, glistening under the city light.

"Not at all. Go right ahead."

"Let's start with the important information," Lewis says, glancing up from his notepad. "Are you married?"

Clara pauses. "Ah, no, I'm not."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" He follows up, cheeks red and tinged.

Clara holds back a giggle. "No. But believe me, Lewis Lane, you'd be the first to know."

Lewis's face is positively red after that statement. It's precious.

There's a few more follow up questions that continue after their light flirting. Her weight and height, and if she could normally eat things and digest them. It's a humorous little exchange that Clara partakes in, finding his questions ever so entertaining. She supposes it isn't an odd question to ask, considering she has so many abilities that a human couldn't quite comprehend. What Lewis had seen a few nights ago had been just the beginning.

It makes Clara squirm with excitement when she finally reveals her x-ray vision.

They have ventured off from the table at this point, looping around a long and wide plant on his balcony while Lewis continued to ask questions. The man is focused down at his notebook as he continues asking questions, quickly scribbling down all of her answers.

"If you can see through my clothing," Lewis says, a tad bit too distracted by the discovery to realize what he was saying just yet, "Can you tell me what color boxers I'm wearing?"

Clara hums, taking a quick glance down. Her insides squirm with want as she catches sight of the obvious change in between his legs.

"Blue," Clara says, without missing a beat. "And you might want to tell them to stop pointing at me, you know."

That certainly grabs Lewis' attention. The man stills, his face going beet red as he stutters over incomprehensible words. The man squeaks from her rapt attention, looking like he wanted to glance away from her, but was unable to pull himself to do so. Clara giggles at his predicament, and decides to push him a little bit further.

"And you are well built for a reporter, I'm surprised," Clara points out, giving him a sharp smile "A six pack is difficult to maintain, especially in a less than physical line of work. You got dedication."

Lewis chokes on his breath after that statement, and they have to take a momentary break for him to recover.

Lewis looks wonderful under the city lights. With the glow of the buildings around him, illuminating the man as he tried to calm down his likely racing heart. All Clara wants to do is lunge forward, snatch the man into her arms and never let go. To hold him close and whisper those sweet nothings into his ear until it was as red as his face.

"Why don't we go for a flight?" Clara suddenly asks, sweeping past Lewis towards the railing on the balcony.

"Flight?" Lewis echoes.

"Yeah." Her feet prop up upon the metal, and Clara outstretches a hand toward Lewis. "You and me, across the sky. Nothing but us and the humming of the city below us. And who knows, maybe the flight could help inspire you to write your report about me." Clara hums out, her smile wide and inviting. Her fingers itch to feel his against them. "What do you say?"

Lewis doesn't hesitate. Not a second. The moment Clara is done speaking, he rushes forward, urgency upon his lips as he gives an almost breathless agreement.

And so, with Lewis swept into her arms, Clara leaps up into the sky. His excited laughter fills the air, and makes her chest feel warm and bubbly as they soar away.

_

Lewis has never spoken to a woman this attractive before.

There's always been some, here and there, that do catch his eye. Sure, that's natural. People come and go and so does his stare.

Then came Superwoman. The name he's decided for this woman, the heroine who swept him off his feet not once, but twice.

And gods, he's already so in love.

He remembers looking up into her eyes, gripping onto the woman as she carried that helicopter, and falling in love right then and there. Who could blame him? A woman with strong, sturdy arms quite literally swept him off his feet and saved him from impending doom. All with a smile and comforting words, her face flawless and perfect.

And then Lewis met her again, on his balcony. And she was even more incredible.

Her super suit? Breathtaking. Red and blue and skin tight, all hugging her body and curves in the best way possible. Her body was far too attractive to be anything but perfection, and all Lewis wanted to do was crawl up to her and beg to see every inch of her skin. The way the suit only accented her beautiful face was torturous. He's never considered himself to be overtly sexual with his needs, but when she spoke to him, he had to try to subtly cross his legs as much as humanly possible.

And gods, she flirted with him. She was just as into it as Lewis was, which only further made him hot and bothered. It was as if she was trying to see if she could set him ablaze with her words, and frankly, Lewis fully believed she could. He had full confidence that if she wanted to, she could easily talk him into a puddle of goo on his balcony.

But she doesn't. Instead, she swept him up into her arms, a beautiful, strong woman who took him away into the sky for a trip. And as Lewis was carried away, a blushing mess, all he could think about was how much of a lucky man he was.

Lewis stares at the beautiful woman as she carries him. Even above the breathtaking landmarks they pass, he can't help but be captured by... her everything. As the wind ships through her hair, all he could do was hold on tighter and admire her physic. Her picture perfect body meant for modeling, her beautiful and symmetric face that somehow was soft and firm all at once. He wants to stare at her all day, if possible. Someone could roam into his room and paste every wall of his with a picture of her posing, and Lewis would adore it.

And from where she holds him? Lewis is pressed against all of the right places. Her bulging chest, her ripped muscles. He all but wants to nuzzle into it, but settles for staring instead. Even if the woman noticed, he doesn't think he'd be able to stop. 

She was just that perfect.

_

Clara- the normal Clara, with her off glasses and bunching clothes of sheer normalcy- ring Lewis' door. She brought nothing, of course, since plain old Clara would have brought nothing. It's almost bitter to return to this door as her normal self, knowing what had just transpired between them moments ago.

That bitterness melts to pure satisfaction as Lewis shakily opens the door, his hair a mess from the flight and eyes almost hazy with want. Even without her x-ray vision, she could see the hardness between his legs he was desperately trying to hide by half sagging his chest. Quickly, the man relents and ducks the entire lower half of him behind his door, as if wishing for it to disappear entirely.

"Ah, Clara," Lewis breathes out, swallowing thickly before he clears his throat. "What... what brings you here?"

"Oh," Clara says, keeping herself from giggling at his predicament as Clara simply offered a more curt smile. Professional. "I wanted to check in on you personally after the whole helicopter incident. See if you were fine. Are you alright? You look flushed."

Lewis glances away. "I'm fine- it's fine, we're all fine. Perfectly fine. I just worked out so I'm a bit sweaty, so don't... mind me. Or my sweat or blush. I just need to go take a shower now."

"Are you sure?" Clara asks, taking a step forward. "I can-"

"Perfectly sure!" Lewis squeaks out, and quickly moves to fully back inside his apartment and shut the door. "Thanks for coming around, your concern means a lot to me, alright bye-"

The door clicks shut, and she could hear the lock sounding before he shuffled away.

Clara doesn't hesitate to use her x-ray vision to pierce through the walls, to watch the man as he quickly made his way to the bathroom. And sure enough, there he was, hunched over while trying desperately to force his erection down. As if acknowledging it was a sin, a temptation he didn't want to give into.

Clara, in her other outfit, was a temptation.

And how much she wanted to tempt him indeed. Clara wanted to rip off her outfit and return to Lewis' side, to reveal herself and sweep him away for a night of pleasure. Clara doesn't, even if the desire to was thick and heavy in her gut.

Instead, Clara waits. Leaving Lewis alone to deal with his own desires.

Eventually, Lewis does manage to join her for a quick burger date. Clara is a bit broke considering she doesn't get paid for her super heroing, and she's only begun working at her new job. She walks down with Lewis, to the little burger stand just on the corner of the street. The man behind it was an older gentleman with a kind disposition, and Clara could only roll her eyes fondly as Lewis continued on and on with his talking.

She doubts he even realized she was there. He would've went on and on about this super hero to anyone, she believed. Lewis was starstruck, eyes glistening and smile wide and taunt as he rambled about his newest obsession.

He doesn't even pay attention to her. Clara thinks, if she switched out herself for anyone on the street, that he wouldn't even notice. He'd just continue, like a child with a crush for the first time in his life.

It would have been insulting to anyone else, but Clara was anything but. Instead, she was horribly flattered. That was who she was, the heroine of the sky and stars alike. She was glad he liked that version of her, even if she couldn't constantly be that.

"And gods, her face, her eyes," Lewis continues, his voice keening from the memories alone. "I've never seen anyone so, so- agh! She's perfect! I cannot believe she exists and that she talked to me. Me!"

Clara giggles, and rolls her eyes fondly. Even with the cheap pathetic burgers the two eat, she thinks it's a good night. A good date, even if Lewis didn't see it that way.

_

She flies home that evening, taking to the clouds while her mind whirled from the two dates she had with Lewis. Two! Even if one wasn't reciprocated, the other was, and she was completely satisfied with that outcome.

And so, once her day of saving innocent people was complete, Clara flies in through her open apartment window. There's no balcony or fire escape attached to it, so it was a shoe-in for an entrance for Clara. She slips in with ease, settling down onto her couch with a huff. A fun, perfect day. Exhausting, but lovely. Clara looked forward to her upcoming future, as the heroine of the sky and as Lewis' normal but sweet coworker.

She had wished the interview went a bit differently, but she understands why she must hold herself back. Lewis is a human. A hunk of one, for sure, but one that was ultimately fragile. Anything more between the flirting back there would have been too much.

Yet, Clara could dream. So dream she would.

Clara lies back against the couch, the window shut with a flick of her wrist on her way down. The cushions fit snugly around her muscled body as Clara closes her eyes and allows for nature and her imagination to take over. She would have been back there, she believed. Back on that balcony with Lewis, both of them wanting yet neither of them reaching.

She wanted it to be Lewis to break the silence. To want her as much as she wanted him.

Clara would have just made the comment about his body. The nice shape of it, the muscles and broad shoulders and dimples that would make any girl swoon. The body she yearns for, the man she desires to be with.

And Lewis would look up at her. His grin smug and eyes glinted with want and mischief alike. And he would speak, so, so easily.

"You know," He'd all but purr out, stepping forward. "You've seen my naked body, but... I haven't seen yours."

Clara would be caught off guard, but the heat between her legs would tingle pleasantly. She adored this type of forwardness, especially from the man she wanted. Lewis was never one to shy away from confrontations in work, and she hoped desperately that he would never shy away from her as well.

"You're right," Clara would agree, easily. Her fingers would tease the helm of her skirt. "I suppose I should fix that, shouldn't I?"

"You should," Lewis points out in agreement, giving a rapt smile that eats at his face. Consuming.

The corners of her lips uptick at the fantasy. Lewis would be sporting that erection he had, straining so heavily against his pants while Clara would shimmy down her skirt sensually. She could almost imagine him drooling at the sight of her bare thighs and hugging panties before she would reach for her shirt, and would pluck it from her body as well.

Maybe the cape would stay on. Maybe it wouldn't. Clara didn't know. But she knew that Lewis would invite her toward him, would groan and ache beautifully with sweat clinging to his face as she clung to him. They'd make love right there, under the stars and beautiful night sky. Clara would be on top, her hips pining Lewis down as he freed his needy sex into the cool evening air.

Clara bit her lip as her imagination seeped through her mind. Hot and passionate. Him begging and her greedy moans, his lips against hers. He'd want her and she'd want him and it would all be so very perfect indeed.

They'd finish, and they'd cuddle. Maybe a round two would take to his bedroom, before Lewis would tire himself out and Clara would leave. A promise of a next time on her lips, leaving him wanting for more as she flew out into the air.

Her hand slips beneath the rim of her panties, and slips easily into her wanting sex as Clara imagined it. It's easy, to be able to drift off into her pleasant daydreams and wonder on and on about the possibilities. About what his size was, about how good he would be with moving his hips. How furiously he would blush if she pounced onto him, wet and needy, wanting whatever he could provide. She circles her clit and pumps her fingers steadily, imaging Lewis confident in one moment and shy in the next. Adorable and strong, her favorite combination. It's at the cusp of their sex that she finishes, back arching and a satisfied smile upon her lips.

Or maybe she would have slept in his apartment. That was a nice thought. One that she fell asleep to, comforting.

_

"Superwoman."

That's what Lewis declares at the staff meeting the following day, holding up the draft of an article they were going to publish that night. Superwoman. A picture of Clara in her super hero outfit is printed on the front, right besides the bold word of Superwoman. Her given name, given by Lewis.

"I can't believe you got an interview with her," Penny White hums, chewing her gum while she circled around Lewis, almost like a shark. Her eyes narrow, more so with unrestrained glee than any malice. "I'm still baffled. How did you do it?"

"I-" Lewis pauses, scratching at the back of his neck with a ripe smile. "Just at the right place and the right time, that's all. Maybe she felt bad for the helicopter incident and wanted to check in on me? I don't know, but I included everything I asked in the article."

He hadn't included the boxers being blue, or the erection he had straining against his pants the whole night. That fact alone fills Clara with glee, a secret between their encounter that only they would share. She presses her legs together to hold back the tide of want as she murmured in agreement with her fellow coworkers, pretending to be another jealous bystander to Lewis' accomplishment.

"An exclusive with a flying angel, I just-" Penny White sucks in a breath, and grabs both of Lewis' shoulders, staring him dead in the eyes. "You are our pride here, Lewis Lane. You absolute buffoon of a talented man. This article is going to sell millions of copies. Billions! Keep those interviews coming, if you can."

Lewis awkwardly agrees to try his best while Clara watches, a faint smile upticking on her lips as she watched him bask in the praise. He deserved it. She was glad to help him, even if it meant she had to pretend to be jealous over his exclusive interview with the proclaimed flying angel.

And he named her. Superwoman.

Clara tests the name on her lips, quiet and murmuring.

It's a nice name. She'll keep it.