Up, Up and Away? PG13 Clana AU Fic.

[Seaspray]

This is a fun fan fiction, in an AU universe where Clark and Lana meet for the first time in an airport.
I don't own these characters, I just like to have fun with them.
Concluded today - 19.4.14



Up, Up and Away?


“Are you going to eat that?” said a hopeful voice with a lilting accent.

“Hmm,..... oh,..... urrgh,....... what? Sorry, I mean pardon?”

His voice croaking, Clark Kent lifted his chin from his chest where it had been resting in exhausted sleep, his head of dark messy curls falling back from his eyes. When he finally opened them, he wondered if he was still dreaming.

There stood a delicate, dark haired beauty with haunting, tawny eyes. The eyes, while bewitching him as their secondary goal, were aimed at the uneaten half of a tuna sandwich, on a plate before him on the ugly chrome and plastic airport table.

“I just wondered, you know, if you still want it?”

She smiled hopefully down at him. The airport terminal, crowded, noisy, redolent of many bodies and their bursting bags seemed to fade out of focus as he bathed in the sunshine of her smile.

It was as if he had suddenly been transported to a fragrant garden of blooms where it was warm and quiet.

She was dressed in the palest lilac top with a small V of yellow at the neckline. It made her smooth honey skin look like it had a golden glow to it. She reminded him of his mother's favourite flower – the Iris.

If only he could stay in this fresh green botanical vision, looking at this beauty, and not have to worry about flights grounded due to unusual weather and travel plans stagnating. He was used to more privileged treatment. She was a charming distraction from his troubles.

One of which had been his need to get away from Joanne – she had suffocated him with her demands. Joanne was like a clinging weed, and a poisonous one at that.

He'd made a decision about relationships. No more - not for a while. It was a good thing this new job allowed him to travel around. No time to get in too deep. But now...... he hadn't even left on his busman's holiday yet..........he wasn't going to allow himself to get entangled with a woman again so soon …..was he?

How could he be thinking all this just moments after meeting her? Clearly, she was not just any woman. She distracted him so much he'd forgotten what her question was. That's right, something about his sandwich?

“I don't.....I think. May I ask why you're asking?”

He thought he would give her just about anything, if only she would smile at him again. What was that resolution he'd just made? Don't get involved with a woman, especially one that asks you for something.

“Well. I'm stuck here, like you are I suppose – because they've cancelled all our flights, and the trouble is …...”

She hung her head a bit, and looked away.
He was wide awake now. He sat up straighter and looked at her more closely.

Oh no, she was doing that frown and lip pursing combination thing. This was a special feminine code signal which usually meant that she was trying not to cry. Living with several sisters had taught him quite a bit about the body language of women.

What would his sister Emma do at a time like this? Lots of TLC.... supportive, cooing words, arm around the shoulder? Hmm, he wouldn’t mind doing that with this girl. It was only a random hug, there was no commitment, right? But, the strange thing was, he really wanted to make her feel better, not just use it as a grope opportunity.

He stood up, wearing what he hoped was a sympathetic smile, and took a couple of steps towards her, one arm tentatively outstretched. She was much smaller than he thought, which evoked an even more protective impulse in his breast.

Joanne had been an amazon – brazen and outspoken, always demanding his attention, always taking charge. Would have been nice to be on top for once. STOP thinking like that. Back to Tuna Girl.

She turned towards him again, registering his movement. Her bewitching eyes raised to his face, and finished her answer.

“....I've got no money, and I was hungry.”

She blinked those long lashes, and a tiny tear escaped to prove correct his earlier assumption. She might have been putting on the waterworks, but he was the one who was melting.

She allowed him to put his arm around her shoulder, wondering at her own forwardness. He just seemed so safe and comforting. And, it was a long time since the last apple and cup of coffee, which had used up her final few dollars.

Her shining hair clung to the suede collar of his jacket, her floral scent drifted to his nostrils. Was this what Iris's smelt like? She was so soft, and the way she fitted lightly against his body – not an intrusion, but a welcome addition.

He was a goner. Whatever it was she asked for: his sandwich, his wallet, or something much more personal, he was ready to give it to her. Everything except his luggage. The airline had managed to lose that. Another black mark against flying like this.


He gently drew her into a one armed hug and guided her back to the seat he'd just vacated. Two Scandinavians were eying it.

A few questions and answers later and he had learned about the now former boyfriend who had ditched her at the airport with bags but no cash. It was a true long distance relationship since she'd moved to England to live.

The ex-boyfriend had waited until the end of her stay to tell her about the Texas waitress who was the new love of his life, but only after she'd spent all her travel allowance and maxed out her credit card on gifts and entertainment she felt she owed him. All she had left was her luggage, but no place to go, as the planes weren't flying.

Clark on the other hand, had just finished a lucrative consultant's job, and was heading off for an all expenses paid well-earned holiday. He'd checked his bags, only to discover that the plane they were supposedly loaded on had no intention of going anywhere.

The airline didn't know where in all the sea of luggage stored away, his two brown bags might be, nor did they seem to care. He'd be filing a negative report about that one for sure.

He produced a can of Coke to go with the tuna sandwich and derived more satisfaction from watching her eat and drink than he had from eating the other sandwich half himself. She had particularly beautiful lips, and he found himself wishing he could swap places with that food for a while.

Suddenly an announcement boomed out. He checked his pager in case there was a message for him. Thousands of desperately hopeful ears tuned in – was the ban lifted – had the despicable weather changed – would they be airbourne any time soon? Or had the restrooms been restocked with toilet paper?

“Would the owner of a purple rolling suitcase, left outside the Ladies room, please return to your luggage before it is confiscated by the bomb squad!”

“Oh my God. That's mine! I completely forgot about it!”

The coke foamed up out of the opening of the can in her agitation.

“You stay here. Just relax. I'll go and retrieve it.”

He surprised himself by his display of gallantry. But, it was OK, getting her luggage wasn't an invitation to a date. He was still safe. He practically ran to the Ladies room.

The rolling bag was just being prodded by a police robot, preparing to tow it away.


“Wait!” he called. “That's mine!”

The flak-jacketed officer suspiciously eyed Clark's ruggedly handsome form up and down. Purple bag? Pink and yellow flowered luggage strap? Diamante trim padlock? Sometimes you just couldn't tell.

“Are you sure this is yours?”

Officer Johnson made his voice sound as deep and authoritative as possible. Granted, the hair was nice, but this guy wasn't his type.

“Yes, yes I'm sure.” replied Clark.

He was eager to complete his mission to rescue her luggage so he could get back to the poor girl, the one with the soft skin that made his fingertips tingle when he touched her neck.

She'd be even more grateful, and perhaps he could ask something of her in return - was it too soon to ask to borrow her toothpaste?

“What's your name then? Tell me what name is on this luggage tag.”

Officer Johnson was going to love telling this story to the rest of his cronies. How this big strong guy (with the wavy dark hair) had a purple bag and a girlie name.


“I.......um …..” It was only then that Clark saw the flaw in his plan. He didn't know her name.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




Comments very welcome, thank you.

[Seaspray]

Up, Up and Away? Pt. 2 4.12

Up, Up and Away?

Pt. 2

“Yes, go on.” prompted the Officer. Clark tried a hopeful smile, rubbing his hand through his hair and passing it over his eyes.

“I'm sorry Officer, I'm tired, not used to waiting around and it's been a very long, stressful day.”

Derek Johnson was nearing the end of his shift. The terminal had been crazy today with all the passengers stranded. There had been arguments, shoplifting, an escalator breakdown, a trash can fire and a water birth in the Arrivals fountain.

A crowd of people stuck in travel limbo tended to get desperate and regress in mentality. He was going home soon, they weren't. He was disposed to give this poor boy a break.

“Unattended bags are taken away and destroyed, you know. What do you have in there?”

Clark thought for a moment, what sort of things would she have in her bag..........

“Just my purple underwear and some toothpaste. And a few other things.” he offered, hoping he sounded confident.

I like purple thought Derek. This guy looks suspicious; too good to be true, but he does have taste.

“Hmmh, well just tell me your initials as proof, and you and your underwear can be on their way.”

Clark groaned inwardly, but then something made him glance up to see Pretty Iris making hand signals at him from a short distance. She was spelling out some sort of letters – if only he had paid more attention when Emma and Jane were trying out their Girl Scout stuff on him.

It would help too, if she wasn't still holding the Coke can. He thought he could make out an “L”, maybe a “V” ? Love! What, he thought!? It was far too soon for that.

The Officer was tapping his foot, waiting. Clark swallowed, his cheeks reddening and made up his mind to just go for it.

“It's......like.......an “L”, you know.......sorta......like in “love.”

Hmm, interesting choice of words, thought Derek, but the young man was right. He watched in mild puzzlement as Clark moved his head and turned his body slightly from side to side. Derek didn’t know that Clark was scanning for the girl who seemed to have disappeared.

“And you have the key of course.”

Officer Derek was hoping that he didn't. It would give him grounds for a strip search.

Clark made a show of patting his pockets and repeated the earlier phrase that had been so helpful:

“ I...err....ummmm.....”

“Baby! Here you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!” said that gentle, unusually melodic voice.

And before he knew it, she was tugging on his jean jacket, threading her small fingers through the curls at the back of his head and pulling him down to press her lips to his in a soft kiss of welcome.

“......mmmhhh.” he continued. God, her lips were cushiony soft and warm, fitting perfectly with his; she tasted amazingly sweet …...and faintly cola flavoured.


She pulled away slightly, also blushing as she met his eyes. Tawny gold stared into greenish-blue – neither breathed while pupils dilated and hearts beat.

Then she turned his world totally upside down: she winked at him. His body, so far ahead of his brain said “Yes!” and he instantly moved in again to reclaim her lips, sliding the tip of his tongue between hers, parting them for a better taste.

His whole body shouted approval at the feel of her. They fit together so well, she was like an extension of himself, and Oh geez, he thought, the connection would be divine.

“Ahrrum!” Officer Derek peremptorily cleared his throat and they broke apart, startled. He was beginning to lose his patience.

Clark's brain kicked in. He mustn't get involved, he would never see her again after this.

But ….....there was no harm in taking advantage of the present brilliant ruse they were playing out!

“Sweetheart, I missed you so much!” he exclaimed, still retaining their connection with linked hands.

“Oh Lang,” she continued, now with a wicked sparkle in her eyes. “I see you've found your bag.”

My last name sounds good as a trendy first name for this guy, she thought, but how am I going to explain the other one.....just change one letter …..and Lane can be his last name.

“We are just now establishing the ownership of said bag .”
Officer Johnson spoke in his best professional, level-toned voice.


“Do you have my key, honey, I can't seem to find it?”

Clark was rolling his eyes and wiggling his eyebrows, but there was no need, she continued to play her part to perfection.

Her hand dove smoothly into a concealed pocket of her sleek,well-tailored cream linen pants to produce the shining gold object, and held it up to show the Officer. She wondered why he was frowning at her and not at this helpful guy she'd found.

“I need confirmation of the full name please.” said Derek.


“Well, he's Lang but I'm afraid when I wrote out his tag, I spelt his last name wrong. It says “Lana” but it actually should say “Lane””. She smiled at the Officer's carefully expressionless face.

He turned to Clark for confirmation. “Is that correct sir?”

“Yeeeeah......sure. That's right, officer. I'm Lang, Lang Lane.” Clark was secretly hoping her name wasn't “Lane.”
Fancy being named after a small, dark, dirty space between buildings not good enough to be called a street!

“You make the cutest mistakes.” he smiled at her and squeezed her hand.

“Well then, open it up.” came the order.

“What?” Clark exclaimed.

“It's OK darling, I'll do it.” Lana thought she better take charge, as the guy was looking a bit apprehensive. She had no idea that this nice guy was thinking about her underwear, and wondering what colour they might be.

The lock and strap were duly removed, and Lana indicated this to the Officer.

“You should make sure your items are intact and have not been tampered with.”

Derek Johnson couldn't quite put his finger on it, but his Police Security background had given him a sixth sense, among other things, and now he had the feeling he was having something put over him. In reality it was usually the reverse.

Clark bent down and unzipped the bag to the smallest possible opening. Was there anything in there he could pass off as his?

Oh my god, he thought, there was something purple in there, they were more like bathers – that stretchy, shiny material. He grasped the bottoms and pulled them out slightly, deriving a guilty pleasure from touching them. He would apologise for it later.

“Yes, see? All here.” He flashed the purple bikini pants quickly.

Officer Johnson's eyes widened. “Rather small, aren't they?”

“It's a thong........ for his dance routine. But he doesn't want to tell you that, he thinks it's embarassing.” Lana was proud of herself for thinking of that one.


“Thanks, baby.” emphasised Clark.

She was really enjoying this – teasing him while he had no choice but to keep playing along. So, he thought he would avail himself of one more opportunity – while she had to keep playing along too. He moved closer to her, hands gently guiding her shoulders to bring her body closer still.

“I don't know what I'd do without you.” her murmured quietly while nuzzling the velvety skin of her neck, placing one last kiss just under her ear lobe. She smelled as deliciously good as he had imagined.

“May we go now?” she asked brightly, peering over Clark's shoulder at Derek.

Clark looked around to hear the answer. Had they pulled it off?

“Everything seems to be in order. Move along. And next time, don't leave any bags unaccompanied. ” Officer Derek advised.

“Yes! Yes of course, thank you Officer.”

“You can let go now. He's leaving.” Lana whispered.


Clark reluctantly did so. He drew in a startled breath a moment later, however, when Derek Johnson turned around and walked by them. He casually inserted a piece of paper into Clark's hand.

“Call me, if you need anything.” He muttered in a low voice. If the guy was a dancer there was a chance he played both sides. Officer Derek strode away, swinging his truncheon.

It was necessary to hold onto each other again as both were ready to collapse from seismic laughter. When the gasping and wheezing had been reduced to sighing, they both stepped back.

“Have you ever thought of going into acting? You're very good!” she asked sincerely.

“No way! But you were amazingly convincing, what about you?” was his reply.

“Not a chance!” She reached for his hand again. “I have to thank you, I don't know how to really ….. for everything you've done for me.”

He gulped. He hadn't wanted to get involved with another girl. But she wasn't any girl. She had ….. something special; the longer he spent with her, the more involved he became – and liked it.

He frantically searched his brain for something appropriate to voice from among the various ideas which sprang forward. Something not R rated.

“I think it's time, don't you?” He said, reaching for her other hand so both were captured between his.

“Time for what?”

At this moment, if someone had asked what her former boyfriend's name was – she couldn't have told them, nor was she feeling the slightest bit of hurt anymore. When she'd kissed this man she hadn't been expecting the pleasurable surge to hit her like a breaking wave – it had only been play-acting, hadn't it?

And when he had kissed her back! What’s-his-name had never made her feel such tingles, such longing for more. If that kiss was a sample, she wanted to sign up for the whole course.

She couldn't believe how familiar it felt to be with this guy. But she wasn't relaxed, quite the contrary – she felt strangely excited. But she was sure he'd just say goodbye now and go. What was he going to ask her?


“Before we go any further in this relationship, don't you think it's time we were properly introduced?”




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ end Pt. 2, more to come. Love to hear from you if you're reading this. Thanks.

[QueenClana]

Ok, I love this fic. It's hilarious and I can't wait to find out what happens next. please update as soon as you can.

[Seaspray]

Update, Up up and away, Part 3. 7.12.10

Wow, a reader, yay! Not much activity around here? Thanks for the kind words. I hope you enjoy the next part as well.

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Up, Up and Away?

Part 3 a)

“We're already having a relationship? How do you figure that?” was her surprised reply. But inwardly she was rejoicing …..He wasn't saying goodbye! He wasn't running away!

Lana smiled, and dipped her eyes downwards for a moment, to try and hide her excitement.

“Because ...this is like being inside some romantic comedy movie.” he remarked.

“Do you watch those things – chic flicks?” she asked, amused.

“Of course,” he affirmed “Doesn't everybody? They just don't admit it. But think about it ….what a perfect script. We've kissed, protected each other, are obviously compatible when you consider how well we were able to ad-lib that scene....... and we both have what the other one needs.” In more ways than one, he thought.

Catherine – sweet Catherine – his third sister, closest to him in age, liked to give him advice. She had wished, hopefully, that he would not turn out to be an ******* boyfriend. With three sisters, all older than himself, he had heard a lot about ******* boyfriends.

“Women like to talk about their feelings – don't be afraid to talk about yours.”

Hmm, did that include telling Joanne what she could do with herself? ….....Forget her, she's not worth it – back to this wonderful woman who couldn't be more different – is that why I'm so attracted to her?

“And this relationship, it's one of …...” she asked in clarification.

“Two travellers …... giving each other mutual aid?” He suggested.

“Bit like the Society -Travellers' Aid huh? Is he gonna offer me a free shower and taxi fare? And how many members does it have?”

“Only two – it's a very exclusive society.”


“Well, but you have an advantage - you already know my name.” Lana argued, “And if we're starting this mutual aid relationship....” here she paused to laugh, and a thrill went through him, it was just as musical and soothing to the ear as her speaking voice.

“ I think it would be a good idea to get to know you better. Your name would be a good starting point.”

He returned her smile – how could he not?

“Well, lets get your name sorted out first. I think I've got it. One of them is Lang right, and the other one iiiiiiiiissssss.........?” he gestured with his hand, coaxingly, as if he was charming the name forward, like a shy animal.

“It's La-Na.” and for some reason she felt as if she needed to say this slowly, keeping the tip of her tongue just behind her top teeth for a very long second.

“La-Na.” he repeated, as if savouring the sounds on his own tongue, the feel of the syllables in his mouth.

“So milady, I'm very glad to finally make your acquaintance.” He said with mock formality, and inclined his head in a shadow of a bow, kissing the back of her hand when he uttered her name.

“A lovely lady by the name of ….Lana....say it with me …..Lang. Lana Lang.”

“Why did you want me to say it again if you already know it?”

“I like hearing you say it – you have a lovely voice.” Just like your body …........your smile and your kindness, in fact just about everything about you is lovely, he thought, and had to stop himself from saying that out loud.

“Alright, your turn.” She replied, feeling a surprising pleasure from his hand kiss gesture, coming from him it didn't seem corny or old fashioned.

“Now who's impatient? One kiss and all my secrets should be open to you?”

“One thing you should know about me – I like honesty and openness in my relationships.” Here she looked away again and he heard her sigh. There was a story there. He decided to stop joking and answered her truthfully.

“My name is Clark, Clark Kent. And Lana? I am truly delighted to finally meet you.”

The smile on his lips also brought a light to his eyes which had been missing for some time.

She smiled in return and answered, “Clark – I like that name, it's strong and good. Just like you. It's a pleasure to meet you too.”

“The pleasure of your company is something I hope I'll be enjoying for a long time.” he said earnestly, and then without thinking, he muttered the other thought which sprung to mind. “Planes or no planes.”

Lana only caught the last word or so and mistook his earnest look for a troubled one.

“No news on the planes yet? Do you think we'll be grounded for much longer?”

She doesn't know what I mean, he thought. Being here with her beats Paris anyday.

“I've got some connections with a few people. I should be able to get some updated information about that.” he said, as he pulled out a shiny, state of the art looking 'phone and flipped it open.

But then …. “Damn!” he continued after pushing a few buttons. “It's dead, completely flat. And my charger is in one of my bags.”

“And your bags are....”

“In travel suspension somewhere.” he answered grimly. “Full of all my other possessions.” That led him to another thought. “Lana?”

“Yes, Clark?” I love how she says my name.

”Now we've been introduced, and considering everything we've already shared, I think it's alright to ask you another personal question.”

This could be interesting, she thought. He let go of her hand finally, and gestured towards the purple suitcase, she answered him wordlessly with an inquiring look.

“Now that I've rescued your bag, could I please borrow your toothbrush?”


An hour later Clark was feeling refreshed and a lot better able to cope with the day. Lana had floss as well as toothpaste and really nice soap. He didn't mind smelling like Wild Violets at all, it reminded him of her.

There was one awkward moment however, when he was shaving in the men's room with her hot pink equipment in his hand. He tried not to think about where that shaver had been last, her legs, her armpits or …......somewhere else which required shaving, when he glanced up to see Officer Derek open the door and pause as he looked in.

Out of uniform, and obviously on his way home, sporting khakis and a purple tie, Derek Johnson walked past the men's restroom on his way out of the terminal. Out of habit, he thought he would just check it one more time. Who knew what lurkers or opportunists might be in there?

He noticed Clark at the sink with the pink toiletry bag and Venus razor in his hand and gave him an approving nod. Silently, he withdrew his head and the door clicked shut as he kept on walking.


Clark blushed and gulped, and hurried to wash up and finish his shave.

Lana was hungry again, and she and Clark fought their way through the crowds to the counter of the restaurant. Their dwindling supply of food was twice its usual overinflated price, but Clark gladly paid for lasagne, garlic bread, salad and sparkling apple juice, secretly enjoying every moan of pleasure that came from Lana's beautiful lips as she ate.

Their conversation was easy and natural, as if they had known each other for much longer. Among other things, Lana found herself confiding in Clark about her recent upsetting break up. He took her hand again and assured her that such a low life guy didn't deserve her, and she was much better off without him.

As she gazed into his eyes, she was mesmerized by their bluey- green colour, which seemed to change and swirl. Nothing could harm her, nothing could hurt her, as long as he continued to look at her like that. As if she mattered, as if she was the most important thing in his world. I know that's silly and it's because I'm grateful to him, but that's how I feel right now.

When he in turn, admitted just coming out of a bad break up, her gratitude morphed into sympathy and then into a desire to comfort him as well, what a b...... she must be crazy to treat Clark like that – how did he ever put up with it?

Lana was determined to show him that women were not cruel, brazen egomaniacs like that Joanne. Especially one woman that was not that way– one by the name of Lana.


“Let's go Clark, somewhere we can talk. Sounds like our exes deserve each other.”


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Hi all, remember, it's easy to write when you know someone's out there reading. Hope you are enjoying my version of Clark and Lana. Cheers!

[QueenClana]

Yeah, first of all love the update. Secondly, don't be discouraged if you don't have a lot of replies at first. In fact, don't watch the replies, watch the views. You probably have lots of people reading that just didn't reply. I go through the same thing. Anyway, love this Clark and Lana. They're so cute together. Just one question: Is Clark Kryptonian is this or he just a regular guy?

[Seaspray]

Yeah, first of all love the update. Just one question: Is Clark Kryptonian is this or he just a regular guy?

Thank you so much for the encouragement. And Clark has no powers in this fic - unless you count his mesmerising green eyes, killer body, dazzling smile, ......etc, etc. LOL

Work is busy for me now because of the end of the year, but I'll try and post some more very soon. Thanks again.

[Seaspray]

Up, Up and Away? Update, Pt.3b 12.12.10

Up, Up and Away?

Part 3b)


A group of vociferous football fans elbowed past their cramped seats, eyeing the eating space. Since Clark and Lana were finished, they decided to move to a quieter area, if they could find one. There were still groups of people milling around, but for the most part the disgruntled passengers had settled down into “camps” of sorts, some by language, some by destination and some by alcohol consumption.

They had given up looking at the useless destination boards, and all the stressed out Flight Information people had gone home for the night. The charity organisations had been busy bringing in portable cots and mattresses for a lucky few – women and children mostly. The rest had to make do with blankets and a few enterprising souls had constructed a “cubby house” of sorts from cardboard.

The normally bright, shiny terminal floor was littered with bodies and their flotsam and jetsam. It was like a shipwreck scene without the water. It seemed like they'd walked for hours, but still hadn't got anywhere. Most airports are designed for exactly this purpose.

Lana yawned, making Clark yawn, which made Lana yawn again. Clark glanced around – there was nowhere comfortable enough for her to sit down, let alone sleep.

“Tired?” he asked.

“I'm way past tired. But how are we going to get any sleep in all this?” she asked.

His fatigued brain flashed up a memory of a place.
That was an idea that might work ….if only they hadn't changed the codes, he thought.

He relieved her of the bag handle, and took her elbow, supporting her. “This way.”

“But what...?”

“I've got an idea, just trust me.” he assured her.

He guided her to a passageway where there were only a few people and stopped outside a door. It said “Utility - Authorised Personnel Only”. He closed his eyes and thought for a moment, trying to remember, then lifted his hand and tapped in a six digit code to the panel under the lock.

There was a clicking sound and the tiny light changed from red to green. He turned the handle and the door opened, revealing a small room with shelving on either side and a narrow space of floor in between. There was also a sink at one end, and a collection of buckets and brooms.

“Here we are madam, our finest suite.” He bowed, and gestured for her to go inside. Not exactly the Hilton, but it's warm and quiet.

“Clark? How did you …....?” She smiled and allowed him to escort her.


“Remember, I told you I used to have some connections.”


“Oh? Yeah. For a minute there I thought you were “using the Force”. This reminds me a bit of my first apartment – oh wait, this is bigger.”

He laughed and parked the bag in a corner and started to pull some towels and packets of bubble wrap off the shelves. In no time at all there was a makeshift mattress. Lana shook off her tiredness and looked around, finding some curtains and a clean painter's drop sheet they could use as covers.

“I'd say our relationship was progressing pretty fast wouldn't you?” She asked.

And what's wrong with that? He thought. With this girl, everything just feels so right.

“”Why do you say that?”

“We've only known each other for a day and we're already sleeping together? I don't usually do that, you know.”

I knew that already, he thought. Another reason why you're nothing like Jump 'Em Joanne – anything in trousers was good enough for her, and it continued while we were dating. Gross.

“Lana …... do you really trust me?”

“Yes Clark, strangely enough ….. I do, I really do.”

Those words have a nice ring to them …. said by her. Wait a minute, going way too fast!

Lana unpacked her toiletries and took out her toothbrush – their toothbrush. She held it out to him, but he declined.

“Owner has first turn.” he said.

He stood beside her at the sink, fascinated by the way her lips moved once again, wrapping themselves lightly around the toothbrush in a perfect pout. She rinsed off the brush and held it out to him, and if she noticed how nicely his jeans fit his backside, she didn't show it.

Then she did something else which had him staring. She sat down on an upturned crate and began to brush out her shining dark hair. She was a mermaid without water, he decided, but he was bewitched nevertheless, and his right hand balled into a fist or else it would have reached out to smooth some tendrils behind her ear. He had to find some way to make this a regular occurrence. He couldn't let her slip away.



“Do you mind if I change into something more comfortable?” she asked, unaware of the effect of that sentence on him.

“No!” he squeaked. He cleared his throat. “No, not at all. At least you have something to change into.”

“Poor Clark – that's right, you've got no spare clothes. Your bags are lost.”

She thought for a moment and then dived into the bag and rummaged around, looking up with a triumphant smile.

“What about these?” and she held up a pair of boxer shorts.

His jaw dropped – was she serious? But he really would like some fresh underwear, especially if he was going to be close to her.

“They're not …...?” he started to ask.

“No! They're new. I bought them in London before I left, but I never had a chance to give them to ….......”

“That *******?”

“Yeah. Now I'm glad, they suit you so much better.”

“Ummm, how do you know?”

“I just do. Go ahead, put them on.”

He hesitated for a moment, feeling uncharacteristically shy– did she expect him to just drop his pants and give her an eyeful?'

“I'll just go over here and we'll both turn around so we're back to back, alright?”

He was sweating already. “Sure.”

There were agonising moments – for both of them. No sight, just sounds … and imagination. Rustling, zip creaking, fabric swishing noises were heard.

“I'm ready. You?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“On the count of three. One, two …..”

“Three!” He called out, not able to wait any longer. They both spun around, blinked, gasped and smiled.

She was wearing some pink baby doll pyjamas with black satin ribbon bow trims, sleek, smooth and tight on her slim legs and frilly, lacy and full on the bodice.

Oh my god, she's gorgeous!

He was wearing his tight white undershirt, which clearly defined his muscular torso, and the white boxers on which there was a purple squirrel with a huge bushy tail and the slogan :


“Think my tail's big? You should see my nuts!”


Oh my god, he's perfect.

“Do they look alright?” he asked, eager to please.

“Like they were made just for you.” she confirmed.

“You should get on.....”

“Pardon?”

“The bed, I meant the bed. You should get on, and then I'll get in.”

“The bed?”

“Yes, of course. I'll get in…....I mean we..... we should get in, and then we'll get it on...”

“What do you mean Clark?” Lana said, stepping a little closer.

“ …..on top of us. The covers.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, I'm a bit cold.......just standing here.”

“See, that's what I mean. You get on …. the bed, and then I'll get in ….the bed, and we'll warm up.”

“That'll be nice.”

“Umm, yeah. We are going to be so hot in bed together.”

Lana closed the distance between them and reached up to lay two delicate fingers over his lips. He closed his eyes, her touch was so gentle, yet electrifying.

“Clark...” she breathed huskily. “Stop babbling, and come with me.”


They lay down on the unorthodox bed, and pulled the covers over. It was a bit narrow, a bit lumpy and every now and then there was a “pop” as the bubble wrap gave up under the pressure. Lana wriggled around a bit, deliciously rubbing up against Clark.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, but …..umm, there's not much room. I keep sorta sliding off.” she admitted.

“You're probably not heavy enough to press the towels down onto the plastic. You …..you could always......ummm.....use my extra weight?”
Yeah, like she would do that? After what I just said? In your dreams Clark.

“Okay! Good idea.” she said brightly, and slid over onto him.

One arm gripping his chest, and one leg lodged in between his and nudging some really interesting places. She snuggled her head into his chest just under his shoulder, where he could feel a couple of her interesting places too – she wasn't lying when she said she was cold. She sighed happily.

“Mmmmh, you're so comfortable.”

Her breathing started to slow as she became more relaxed. Clark, on the other hand was as tense as a strung wire. It was soft core torture. He loved it.

She smelled like that flower garden and felt like the velvet skin of a peach as she made tiny settling movements, draping herself around him, holding him tight.

He hadn't yet achieved his former ambition. He still wasn't on top, but he couldn't think of any other place he'd rather be. And who knows? They might roll over in the night?

When he was sure it was safe, just as she fell asleep, he dared to lean down and press a kiss to her forehead, whispering: “Goodnight, baby, sleep well.”

This had to become permanent, but she was taking off for London when the air routes reopened! His ticket had been an open one, and he'd pretty much decided on Paris, city of lovers, where he could forget all his problems. Unless he got an emergency call that is. Better check his pager in the morning.

He'd told Joanne of course, that he was going to Mongolia. When she'd asked why, he'd told her it was for the Polo matches on the famous Tundra ponies. If he did, he'd be imagining her face on the severed head they used as a ball. And she'd believed him.

Lana would have seen through that in a millisecond. But he would never have been able to tell Lana anything but the truth.

It was wonderful that she trusted him, it gave him the strength to try, to try really hard, not to spoil anything, so that faith in him was not misplaced. And he meant it. He really meant it - because he could already feel the tingles which heralded major stirring in his groin. He was going to have to try so hard to keep his hands to himself.

Just as his own eyes closed........ “Night sweetheart.” she whispered back, and his eyes snapped wide open again.

It was going to be a long night. She hoped so too; he was so comfortable – firm in all the right places and soft in the others. She was planning to have many more nights like this.




*************************************


Comments very welcome from anyone who's reading. Thank you.

[QueenClana]

wow, first of all this is so hilarious and so well written, can't wait for the next one.

[Seaspray]

Up, Up and Away? Update, Pt.4 14.12.10

Thanks for your reply Queenclana - love your story too. Here's the next bit. I'm so busy at the moment, but holidays are coming soon. Yay!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Up, up and Away?


Part 4


Lana was so comfortable, so warm, so tranquil, despite the plastic bubble mattress, despite the lack of feather pillows, or a pretty purple and white doona.
One did not need any of those things for true comfort. What was it that made her achieve this degree of satisfaction?

The answer was right at her fingertips, and under her head, and wrapped around her back and his hip was pressing in a very familiar and companionable manner on a particular area of her pelvis because her leg was overlaying his.

The difference was obviously her new-found partner. He was a grade A snuggler, this Clark. And Lana loved to snuggle. The ******* had never been interested in doing that in their she-wished-it-had-been-briefer relationship. Not even before she had left, and especially not after.

Not after his new Texas squeeze came into the picture, she thought.

He'd always been a: “You make me feel so good” lover. She noted that now – it had always been about his pleasure and not hers. More often than not, it had been too quick and she'd never even gotten close to being satisfied.

A few kisses, some cajoling compliments and begging by him, and the deed itself would be done in under five or ten minutes sometimes. After which he would either roll over and sleep it off, and then leave an hour or so later, or make some excuse about an early call.

How could she have been so stupid, so naive? She could see it now – he must have had others, maybe many others, before this new one, finally admitting he was cheating! It annoyed her to realize that she was no good to him anymore as a quick release since she was living in another country. Is that all she had ever been?

Oooooh! She felt betrayed and angry as a hot tear trickled from her eye and seeped into Clark's undershirt, making a hot, a wet connection between them.

He stirred, and his left arm drew her more tightly to him, while his cheek nuzzled against the top of her head. She liked that, she liked it a lot. He made her feel safe, and just recently he made her feel like he actually cared.

How could he do that, she hardly knew him, right? Ah, but he'd cared if she was hungry, he'd wanted to help get her bag back, he was concerned that she'd been dumped, he'd cared that she was tired. And he'd done something about these things to make her feel better.

It was so unfair that she had only found him here and now, that they might not ever see each other again.

Almost involuntarily she clutched him tighter, her left hand smoothing over his firm, chiseled chest, her knee digging down between his and rasping her against him at a different angle.

That was ….oooh,.....actually very.......mmmmh....... nice. She was warm, safe, snuggled and more than a little turned on. She moved her knee higher. Oh yeah,that was better. She sighed and finally slid into a deeper sleep.

She was up high, somewhere dark and somber. There were indistinct shapes pushing and shouting. They were pointing at her, telling her to go.

She started to back away from them as they descended, jostling and taunting her, arms outstretched. She backed slowly away, looking behind her once or twice as an edge, with darkness beyond, came into view.

Another step or two and she would be trapped, with nowhere else to go. Persecuted, accused ….what did they want?

The jagged edge was under her heels; she felt it crumbling. Her hand that was held up in front of her to ward off the danger then swung out into the openness vainly seeking some handhold or leverage to stop herself from …......falling.

She was falling, arms flailing, a silent scream rose in her throat, struggling to be voiced.
But it wasn't needed because she was floating somehow, bourne up by the warm air.

There was something coming towards her, but she was not afraid. It whooshed by her and then she felt a soft, feathery lightness under her hand. She rolled over from her back to lie on her stomach.

She was on the broad back of a white bird, so soft and warm and comfortable.
Then it lifted its neck up and flew high so that she had to put her arms around its body tightly, but yet, she still wasn't afraid.

Straight as an arrow was its course, then bending up and over in dizzying loop. Finally losing momentum, it circled gracefully and began a downward spiral, levelling out over what looked like wave-dimpled water.

And then its body was above her, chest to chest - a fan-winged weight holding her down, and she still floated. It's graceful serpentine neck curved down to regard her with a kindly, emerald eye...... and it nuzzled her neck gently with its nubile beak whispering her name: “Lana.....”

Lana woke with a start to find part of her dream was real. A very robust white clad form was pressing her down to the mattress, air bubble explosions going off like firecrackers, even in dim light, the green eyes were gleaming with a look which made her blush all over.

She freed one arm and raised it to tap him on the shoulder. :”Ummmm, Clark?”

He didn't seem to be awake, even though his eyes were open, and he didn't answer her query, although his intent was embarrassingly obvious.

The squirrel was no longer hibernating and had sprung into action, sending little shocks of pleasure from the apex of her pink pyjama pant legs.

There was another half-hearted attempt on her part to bring him to consciousness, but in the act of tapping him again - this time more forcefully, she stopped.

Why should she stop this? He was a great guy who had shown her he cared, and if this was the only time they would ever have together before he flew out of my life.........

Because she wasn't that sort of girl. No one night stands or casual sex. She had to care deeply before wanting to share her body with another.

But now …..the timing was so right. Why couldn't I be that girl?

He had given her so much, was it wrong to want to give back? Should she just go with the moment ? Was it time to stop caring about unimportant things, what other people wanted and expected of her? Was it time she stepped back a little from being the organised young woman she was admired for?

This moment they were sharing seemed to be happening outside the normal realm of time and space. Did one need "precautions" in an alternate universe? Stop thinking about other times, other disappointments - time to shed her veneer of care.

She could remember a simpler time, when such things were spontaneous joy. She could channel her teenage self with the hot boyfriend!

At least ….....she thought she could, until.......his hand moved up to gently cover her left breast and....... squeeze.

His head tilted, those nice lips slightly parted as they approached.



They were heading for ….....? Oh my God! She froze.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Comments very welcome. Thank you.

[QueenClana]

Cliffy! OMG! The heat is so real and it's so funny. I can't wait for the next one.

[Seaspray]

Up, Up and Away? Update, Pt.4a 17.12.10

Sorry about the cliffie - but it adds to the enjoyment don't you think? Anyway, here's some more. Thanks for your comment.



Up, Up and Away?

Part 4 a)



“Put your mouth around it Clark, come on, you can do it.”

So, Clark tried pursing his lips and seeking around for the small flexible protrusion.




Lana had no possible way of knowing what Clark really thought he was doing. As he nuzzled her increasingly aroused body leaving wet patches on her pyjamas, Clark was caught up in his own dream.



He'd gone to the Carnival with his three sisters. Catherine told him she wanted to catch up with the others as they moved off, but Clark was tired from too many dizzying rides and cotton candy. He'd plopped himself down on a patch of grass and refused to move, so she left him there. He started to watch the pony rides.

There was a majestic palomino horse being led past a group of children. Suddenly a loud staccato noise from a nearby booth made him stand up as he saw the horse rear and whinny in fright. Without thinking of the danger, Clark sprang forward and pushed the foremost little girl, in a white dress with purple ribbons, out of the way of the striking hooves.

To show her thanks she'd pressed the prize won just moments before into his hands before her mother scooped her up with relieved scolding. When Em and Janey came back with their boyfriends, Clark showed them his booty and couldn't understand why they were laughing at him.

He unwrapped it and a large pink shape flopped out. It was an inflatable elephant. Clark wanted to blow it up, then he could carry it around on a string, like he saw others doing.

“I'm gonna call it George,” he said to Jane's boyfriend. “like you.”

“You can't dude, it's pink.” George laughed in reply.

“Yeah, but it's an airhead just like you.” Jane quipped back.

“Not yet it's not. Put some air in this baby, C- man.”

So, Clark captured that little rubbery nozzle in his mouth and tried to blow.


Oh, God, how does he make me feel like this? Thought Lana, as ripples of pleasure spread through her body. Much more and she was going to open up under the pressure – literally.

Trying to control herself, Lana scrunched up a handful of their improvised towel-and-air-bubble bed with her free hand and squeezed until her fingernails popped a few of the air pockets, while Clark continued his lip and tongue action.


“Can I call her Cathy, then?” asked Clark, she was his favourite sister after all. She would love to lend her name to a blow up pink elephant!

“Don't stop blowing!” rebuked George.

“Don't stop?” asked Clark puzzled, there was lots of air in Cathy now, how much more blowing could it take?


“Ohhh, don't stopppppp.” echoed Lana's moan as she thrashed her head from side to side. It was getting tropical, hot and wet, in their little hideaway.

As the pink plastic creature filled with air, it made squealing noises when squeezed, and Clark could imagine hearing them even now. He could, but they were presently coming from deep inside Lana's throat as he gently massaged the more swollen areas of her anatomy. Around and around, up and over, this was fun, squeeeeeze!

“Eeeeeeeeeeh!” answered Lana, in a high pitched exhalation.

“I love my blow up girl. I love Cathy, I'm going to blow her up and play with her every day.” Clark said joyfully.

Lana's conscious brain made an appearance as her ecstasy suddenly ground to a halt. Ewwwwww! He used plastic blow up women? A nice guy like him? And now he was pretending she was one? Gross! No wonder he couldn't maintain a stable relationship, he probably had all sorts of fetishes. Wonder what else he’s into? …... NO! Just because he's attractive, that doesn't excuse reprehensible behavior!

She suddenly felt used, a part of his tacky needs. She wanted him to keep his hands and his mouth to himself. He was too heavy to just push off her. She searched around with her hand and found a cardboard tube nearby. Huh? Better than nothing. She raised it and started to whack him over the back and head.

“Get off! Clark move! Leave me alone! Urhhgg! If you don't get off me I'm going to scream! “

He pushed up a little from her body, and she was able to scoot sideways a bit.

“Whaa... ? “ he mumbled, slowly coming back to consciousness.

“Clark, get off me you pervert! CLARK!”

“Huh? Okay, I'm awake, sorta. You can stop hitting me anytime. Wait a minute, what's going on? Why are you hitting me?”

“Because I want you to take your hands off me – NOW!”

Clark looked down to see what he was holding. A delectable handful of perky pink Lana. The baby dolls were a lie. She was all woman.

“Oh my God, Lana, I'm sorry!” Clark let go hurriedly, and reluctantly, and jumped back in a swift movement which caused about a third of their bed to explode. He pleaded with Lana from the other side of the tiny room. A whole four foot away.

He gesticulated with his hands to punctuate his genuine remorse and surprise, upsetting a stack of brooms and mops, which began falling with a clatter, hitting him on the head and chest. Then he noticed his own rather large handle in his boxers and diverted one hand from the falling objects to hold in front of himself as a shield.

She sat up, rearranging her pajamas more respectably and glared at him.

“Really Lana, it's not what you think! I didn't mean …....” he glanced down at his eagerness again, maybe he did mean it. It wasn't that he didn't want to. She just wasn't his to want like that.

“I ….I think I was dreaming.”

“Yeah, I know all about what you were dreaming. Cathy, wasn't it?” said Lana with obvious distaste.

“What do you know about Cathy? I never told ...”

“No, well, it's not the type of thing people go around telling each other, is it.”

“What exactly did I say? Was it bad?”

“Well, that depends on what you mean by bad. You seem to....um...use her a lot.” Lana was calming down, in fact she was finding the conversation weirdly interesting.

“I guess I did stretch the boundaries a bit sometimes. Especially when I was younger.”

Lana groaned inwardly, as the mental image of this flashed into her mind. I wonder how much stretching was involved? Don't ask! Don't ask!

“I haven't seen her in a while, I miss her.”

She was probably carefully packed in the bag's he'd lost. No wonder he was upset about that. Lana thought.

Clark sighed, at least Lana seemed to be calming down. He could remove his hand now because so was he. He looked at Lana and realised just how stunningly beautiful and sexy she was with tousled hair and rumpled bed clothes. And they had little, dark patches all over …..

“Lana.....why have you got wet spots on your pyjamas?”

“You should know.” If only he wasn't a pervert, because mmmh, he definitely had skills.

“I did that? “ He wished he could remember. He was sure it had been enjoyable. “Lana, I don't know what else to say except, I’m sorry. I'll find somewhere else to sleep.”

He bent to retrieve his clothes. Lana thought he looked tired, and a bit sad, but his backside was as attractive as ever. Then she felt bad for all the help he'd given her. And, she missed the snuggling.

“Look Clark, it's ….it's alright. We're adults here. We need a place to sleep, just ….sleep. And, in the morning we'll go our separate ways. Agreed?”

He nodded and resigned himself to staying awake all night so there wouldn't be another lapse in his self-control.

Cautiously, both feeling self-conscious, they crept back onto their half-deflated bed. There was a bit of careful shuffling around to get comfortable, until they were lying stiffly back to back. Slowly, as warmth returned to the cocoon of disappointed flesh, they both relaxed enough to finally fall into a dreamless slumber.


By morning their subconscious desires had resurfaced. Although bodies were mute, they expressed thoughts unwilling or unable to be voiced by any other means. Chest to chest, legs in an impossible tangle, his hand snugly in the small of her back, her hand woven into the curls at the back of his neck, they gradually woke, although neither opened their eyes.

Clark couldn't understand what smelt so wonderful. It was a warm, fruit-scented essence. There was something moving, something tickling his nose intermittently, and it was this that smelt so good. He peeked just enough to see a tumbled mass of raven hair in front of him, but didn't dare raise a hand to touch it's softness, in case it was a lovely dream he’d cause to disappear.

And besides, he liked his hand just where it was. Sensation was relayed from it, something warm and soft. He moved his fingers slightly to trace a gentle curve. Then he became aware of the legs of the delicious entity slipped under his one ankle and over the other calf. A pleasing pressure. A tiny nudge from his groin echoed this sentiment.

And then he remembered........ Lana!

If she had been annoyed at his earlier intimate contact, this embrace was going to compound that. But he couldn't bring himself to break away. Sleeping with a woman had never been like this before. So enticing, and at the same time so companionable. He would enjoy it while he could.

Lana, likewise woke with such a feeling of comfort and deep, calm satisfaction, that for a moment, she had no idea where she was. Her eyes opened just a tiny bit so she could orient herself. Crap- it was him. She shut them again quickly so as not to give herself away. He was still asleep. One part of her wanted to slip away to avoid the awkward waking. It was her own resolve she couldn't trust.

She knew if he asked her, she would stay. The protective feeling of his encompassing arm, the comfort of his body against hers were arguing his case very effectively. But she couldn't allow it. Commonsense told her she was well rid of him – with his kinky habits and wandering hands. He wasn't worth wasting her thoughts on. She would never see him again. So why did it make her heart hurt to think of that?

Two sets of eyes opened simultaneously – apprehensive green met determined hazel. Neither moved.

“ Hi....” he whispered.

“Umm, hi.” She answered.

“Sleep well?” He figured denial was the best way to go.

Best sleep I've had in weeks. She admitted to herself.

“Not really.” She lied, but had to look down. She couldn't look into those sad, hopeful eyes for too long. If she did, she would weaken and then….

The gentle circles he was tracing on her back were giving her goosebumps. Their bodies were so close, he couldn't help but notice.

“Lana, are you cold?” On the contrary, she felt hot, very hot. How dare he make her feel like this – she was annoyed with him...... right?......Right?

“Why would I be cold, I'm lying on the floor under a window covering on a half-exploded plastic bed.... oh sorry, maybe it reminds you of your girlfriend – might be a relative or something!”

Clark was at a loss as to why Lana thought Joanne and a plastic bed might have something in common – unless she somehow knew about the breast implants and the buttock shaping?

“My ex-girlfriend would have a total meltdown in this situation.” She would have screamed the place down, demanding something better, thought Clark. Not like Lana's grace under duress.

“Recyclable is she?” Lana was beginning to find this funny - plasto-woman was no match for a living, breathing Lana Lang! And, she was going to show him why.

“I don't even want to think about it.” Said Clark with a shudder, unconsciously sliding his hand further down Lana's gloriously real, soft backside.

“Now you're cold.” Said Lana quietly, her breath coming in short almost-pants as she squirmed against him, gently pulling his head closer. Ha! Blow-up Bimbo could never do what she was about to.

On the contrary, Lana was making him so hot and bothered he couldn't think straight. Was he really going to start something now, like this, with her? What about when the airport re-opened? Because if he did, he would never, ever, want it to end. She was that once-in-a-lifetime girl.

It wasn't fair that they had met like this, were here this way. Besides their situation, what new developments might have happened since last night?

“I should get up.” He suggested, hovering just outside the magnetic pull of her lips.

“Just what I was thinking.” She agreed, as his lips succumbed and joined with hers in a rich, deep kiss of relief, while the remaining air pockets of the bed exploded with joy.



Bang bang! Knock knock!



“Airport Security! You in there – this is a restricted area!”

Clark reluctantly wrenched his mouth from Lana's and shook his head in answer, to her look of shock and surprise. Stay quiet, they don't know for sure.


“Are you coming out, or do we break down the door?”

Two bodies reluctantly peeled themselves apart and stood up quietly.

“We know you're in there, we've got it all on CCTV.”

Lana froze in the action of taking off her pyjama top.

But it was Clark who voiced their common thought. “Oh, sh*t!”





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Thanks for reading, comments welcome as always.

[QueenClana]

LOL. that was so funny and hopefully they get the cathy incident cleared up really soon can't wait to see what happens next. PPMS

[Seaspray]

Up, Up and Away? New Update, Pt.5 22.12.10

Thanks for comments and well wishes, here is an early Christmas present update for you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




Up, Up and Away?

Part 5


Clark could have kicked himself for not thinking of the camera. Perhaps Lana would do it for him if he offered her the job, she was looking shocked, and pretty pissed off. Of course the airport would have security measures, he should have remembered! He glanced around and located the camera, indicating it to her.

“We'll be out in a few minutes. We have to umm...tidy up in here.”

“We're not going anywhere.” was the answer. “You've got five. Then we come in.”

Clark handed Lana her clothes. “It'll be alright. I'll explain.”

He smoothed her shoulder with the palm of one hand, and she leaned into his touch. Okay, she didn't totally hate him.

He stood between the intrusive black lens and her.

“You get dressed, I'm blocking the view, alright.”

She hurriedly pulled her clothes on and tapped his back to let him know she was done.

While he put on his own she began to pick up the remnants of their resting place, now quite deflated and sorry looking. There was a corresponding hollow feeling inside her. Was this where it ended? Before it had even really begun. She picked up a small part of the plastic, pulled off no doubt by their almost-moment of passion. She quickly scrunched it up and slipped it in a pocket, swallowing down regrets, and turned to look at him.

But he was smiling. “Lana, b... but don't be sad. Don't worry. Come here.”
I almost called her “baby” then, how presumptious, she'd think I was just being smart.

She stepped into his open arms, those arms which had held her during sleep, still protecting now in the light of day.

Might as well enjoy this last one, she thought. His hug was so warm, it brightened her spirits momentarily. He caressed her hair with his hand.

“But we'll get into trouble. We're trespassing.” she said as she laid her cheek on his ample chest.
“I know we talked our way out of things before, and it was fun. But this is different.”

“Once I talk to Airport Security, it'll all be fixed in no time. Then we'll go and have some breakfast. Sleeping with you gives me an appetite.”

She smiled faintly at his joke.

“But …......what ?” he asked, sensing something else.

“It was our special place Clark, and now it's over.” That made him encircle her even tighter.

“No, nothing's over. Is that what this is about?” He felt her nod.

“I think it goes like this: “You go your way, I go mine.””

“Lana, I'm not......”

“Time's up!” came the order from outside.

Clark stepped forward and unlatched the door from the inside.

“What seems to be the trouble gentlemen?” he asked of two gruff, burly faces.

They were soon escorted down the corridor until it came to a junction. Clark was led one way, Lana the other. They were hardly given time for a brief kiss.

“Goodbye Clark. You can keep the toothbrush.”

“No, it's not goodbye. Lana.....Lana!”

Clark was shown into the small room which held an empty table and two aluminium chairs. He looked into the unsmiling face of the interviewer and didn't feel quite so confident. He was going to have to explain who he was and what he was doing. The double name thing was bound to come up. That could be tricky, it made him look suspicious.

It also seemed like it was going to take some time, and he was anxious to get back to Lana as soon as possible. What type of “goodbye” had she meant?

Was it the “I'll see you soon” type, or, as he feared, was it the “I can't tonight, I'm washing my hair” version. She couldn't fool him, he had three sisters. He'd heard all the excuses there were.

Well, he'd be damned if he was going to let Lana Lang wash him out of her hair! They hadn't gone on a date or had their first argument and make-up yet. Hell, she had never even had the chance to say “we need to talk”!

They didn't have an anniversary for her to torture him over forgetting, but he would always remember the sex they hadn't had. It had taken his whole life to find her, and now that he had, he was never, ever going to let her go.

He was asked to empty his pockets. As he put his pager on the table, he noticed that there was no “on” light. It's batteries obviously had no charge left, like his 'phone. Had someone tried to contact him, they wouldn't have got through – just a message. That wasn't good. Clark didn't think Mr. Brickwall across the table looked like he'd be offering any spare batteries. The man was positively robotic, probably needed a few of his own to keep the circuits running.

Half an hour later Clark was convinced this was true. Besides some monosyllabic grunts, there had not been much progress. Clark’s highly annoyed attitude of yesterday, which had been entirely banished by Lana's presence began to creep back. Didn't this idiot know who he was?

It was time to make things happen.

“I need to make a call.”

“Huh?”

“You can't hold me for interrogation like this, without contacting anyone.”

“Mmmn…hm.” Robbie scraped his chair back and left the room, returning with a cordless handset and smacked it down on the table.

Clark felt around in his pocket for a crumpled piece of paper. Surely he hadn't lost it when removing his pants? That thought made him think of Lana again for a moment. He was still wearing the boxers she'd given him. They were like a badge of courage – he was ready to fight for her if he had to, to fight her fears.

He wondered if she was doing better than him and had already been released and was immersing herself back in the human airport sea. Then his hand found it's objective. Even a daydream of Lana brought him luck.

Time to call in the cavalry. He dialled, it rang a few times and then connected.

“Hello Mr. Johnson, or may I call you Derek?” said Clark pleasantly. “I need your help.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Lana, on the other hand seemed to have the guy who wouldn't shut up. First she'd sat alone in a room similar to Clark's. She was apprehensive, but she proudly told herself she didn't miss Clark. Then about half an hour later this guy had come in. She immediately didn't like the look of him, heavy set, sort of...greasy.

Slaven was his name, “Sleezy Slaven” was what he was called most of the time. He proudly tried to live up to this reputation. He'd asked specially to be able to interview her. He'd been watching the tapes from the utility room, drooling all the while. He couldn't believe his luck when they told him to go and ask a few preliminary questions.

“Hello there...Miss Lang is it? Lana...such a lovely name. May I call you Lana?” He leaned across the table and tried to take her hand in his. She moved it away quickly, looking at him incredulously.

“No.”

“Very well, then. I can see you're not a very smart girl. Smart girls co-operate.”

After a few more questions and answers, each getting more personal, during which he watched her, licking his lips at times, Lana finally realized what this guy meant by “co-operate”. It made her feel sick.

“I can see we're not getting very far here. I might have to order a strip search.”

“You can't do that.” she retorted bravely, but not feeling so.

“I can, and I will, unless you give me a good reason not to.” he smiled, showing a lot of dingy teeth.

“And would this reason involve me touching you?” She was just about ready to reach for a bucket.

“See, you are a smart girl after all.”

Lana stopped feeling sick. She began to feel angry. What was it with everyone thinking they could use her, and she'd just go along with it? Her ex-boyfriend, and even Clark! Ooh! She'd almost fallen for it! And now this slug of a man!

“Sure handsome,” she murmured in what she hoped was a sultry voice. “Come here and I'll show you what I can do.”

“Thanks Derek.” said Clark backing out of his office. “We'll organise that next week. I'll be in touch.”

As soon as the door closed Clark breathed a sigh of relief. Officer Johnson had come through, been very reasonable really. Although he didn't seem to like the name “Clark” and had asked if he could still call him “Lang”. Clark had just shrugged his shoulders, a bit bewildered, but had made no objection.

Everything was sorted out now, and he had new batteries for his pager. As soon as he turned it on, it started screaming. Was this the call he'd been dreading? They wanted him, he knew it. He'd read it later, he had someone to find first.

Where was Lana? He scanned the Departures Lounge, so many people, but none of them were her. There had been a rumour of progress, and crowds were milling around the Flight Information screens. He went back to the interview room where he'd been detained, it was empty. He thought he'd try some of the other doors. Two doors down he struck gold.

An overweight man was bound with his hands behind him in a chair with three multicoloured hair scrunchies. As soon as he saw Clark he began rocking the legs up and down with a clatter, making indistinct noises. As Clark came closer he saw why. There were two socks tied around the man's mouth in which was stuffed a piece of plastic.

Clark would have recognised that plastic anywhere. Lana! She'd been here! The final confirming piece of evidence was her purple rolling bag, lying on its side in the room. The man's head bore imprints from its wheels.

“Was Lana Lang in here?” he asked urgently, just to confirm his joyful suspicions.

“Mmmmmm!” screamed the mute man.

“How long ago did she leave?”

“Mmm hmm rrmmm!” came the answer.

“Did she say where she was going?” was his next eager question.

“Urrgmm!”

“Thanks a lot. I'll just take her bag – she's always losing it. Nice talking to you.” and he grabbed the handle and ran out of the room, trundling it behind him.

His pager was going off again, he glanced at it. Damn! Not now! Wait a minute …....that would work out fine!


He twisted and weaved between excited groups of people. They were forming themselves into lines. An announcement had just gone over:

ATTENTION PLEASE. FLIGHTS TO LONDON, PARIS, ROME, AMSTERDAM, ZURICH, ISTANBUL, SYDNEY AND TOKYO WILL BE DEPARTING ON SCHEDULE. PLEASE REPORT TO YOUR BOARDING GATE.

And then he saw her, a bright and beautiful face in a turbulence of nameless people, and his heart leapt up into his mouth, so he could hardly call out her name.

“Lana! Lana! Wait – it's me!”

She turned, saw him and turned away again. She had to gulp in a huge breath because it felt like all the oxygen had just been sucked out of the vast room. She turned back, paler but with a tiny resigned smile.

He'd started to run when he saw her but one look at her sad face stopped him in his tracks and he slowly walked the few more steps to her side. The line had nearly all gone through the entrance to the gate, she had made it to the desk, boarding card in hand.

“Lana?”

She had to steel herself not to fall into his arms.

“I have to go Clark.”

“I know...” his pager pierced the air between them, “So do I, but it'll be alright. I'll find you! I promise!”

“Clark....” her voice was thick with unshed tears. “This isn't a chick flick, one of your romantic novels. There's no happy ending.”

“But don't you want there to be?” So much was riding on her answer.

A uniformed man appeared at his side. “Come with me sir, we have to go...now!”

He pushed the bag towards her, as he was pulled back. Her card was taken, she was hustled, resisting, through the door. She managed one quick look back, but he was gone.

“Yes, Clark, I wish we did have a happy ending.” she whispered, but the air blast from the plane's engines stole her words and threw them away to be lost in the clearing sky.




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




Hey Merry Clana Christmas to everyone reading, hope you are still enjoying this story. Holidays are here, so I should be able to be fairly regular now, and finish this off in due time.
Best wishes to all for a great festive season!

[QueenClana]

Wow, can't wait for the next one.

[Seaspray]

Up, Up and Away? Part 6. Happy Christmas 26.12.10

Up, Up and Away?



Part 6



The roar from the engines beat a wild tattoo on her ear drums as she bent to grasp the handle of her bag. She could almost imagine it was still warm from his hand. It was a bitter-sweet symbol now.

What an adventure her bag was having – all by its own little smug purple self. It had seen the start of their brief but highly significant time together. Eventually, when the zip lost its teeth and the lining sagged, she would still hold on to it. Even when the wheels fell off, they would be preserved, for their part in defending her against the sleaze bag in Interview Room 3.

The walk along the short draughty corridor seemed so long, as engine fumes caught in the back of her throat and made her eyes water. That's what she told herself.

The aeroplane door loomed before her, splayed open against the metal skin of the fuselage. The flight attendant beckoned her, with an arm that seemed to move in slow motion, teeth impossibly white.

In the act of stepping forward she baulked – should she do this? Was it too much like running away? Her head told her to be sensible and just go home, taking only the special memory of their ships-that-pass-in-the-night meeting, beautiful but impractical. Her heart told her that if she'd thrown caution to the winds, believed what he said, that she could have had a whole lot more, maybe everything she had ever wanted. The see-sawing thoughts in her head were beginning to make her dizzy.

Her bag was about to tell her something else.

The flight attendant impatiently took the card from her unresponsive hand and read the seat number. Tardy passengers didn't understand at all. They were lucky to be taking off – the weather had cleared, the missing staff had finally been replaced. If they didn't take their flight opportunity now …..... a lot of frustrated people would turn into some very angry ones. Out of habit he began to point her to the correct aisle until he looked at what she was dragging.

“Wait a minute miss.”

“Umm, what?” Lana stopped her negotiation of the narrow, noisy aisle.

“You can't bring that in here. It's too large.”

“You mean my bag? No, I'm sorry, I'm not leaving my special bag” Lana declared.

“I don't care if it's special. I'm sure it's a very nice bag, it's just too big. See this holder? All cabin baggage must fit into it to be allowed on board.” said the flight attendant, with a brittle smile. Where had this woman been? - in a closet? Weren’t there about a thousand of these size-warning stations littered all over the airport?

Lana saw a cage with a basket the size of a small sports bag. It looked about half as big as her bag.

“So if my bag was that big, I could bring it on?” Lana asked.

Another passenger, rotund and short with flaming orange hair pushed in front of her, demanding help to put her bag in the overhead locker. She had a tartan carry-all bag and a beauty case.

“How many pieces of luggage are allowed?” said Lana.

“You may have two Miss, a beauty case, medical bag or computer bag and another item like a handbag.”

“Well,” said Lana “just imagine that my bag is two pieces joined together, then I'm within the limit and can bring it on.”

“Only if you're prepared to saw it in half, Miss.” he replied, not bothering to hide the sarcastic tone.

Lana smiled back with narrowed eyes. He leaned forward and tried to take the bag.

“It's against airline regulations, you should have checked it in.”

“But there wasn't time!” Lana emphasised. “You called us and my friend had it. I only got it back at the gate.”

Here she thought of Clark finding her bag in that room. He had saved it for the second time.

“I'll just take it, and it will be sent on a subsequent flight.”

“No.” said Lana, “You're not taking my bag.”

“Miss, I'm afraid my supervisor has called airport security. Your bag stays behind and you must take your seat on this flight right now so we can close the door.”

“No!” said Lana vehemently, grabbing it back.

A voice at her elbow said – “Why am I not surprised?”

She turned to see their old “friend”, Officer Johnson.

“Trouble with a bag, is there? That sounds familiar.”

“This young lady won't surrender her bag, it's too big for her to take it on-board.”

“Miss Lang, may I suggest you get to your seat and don't worry about the bag.” said Derek Johnson, indicating the aisle with his palm.

His voice was calm and even, although those that knew him well would have discerned an almost imperceptible eye-roll.

“I know you don't understand, but this bag is special to me!” stated Lana firmly.

“I really think you want to be on this flight.” prompted Derek.

“No I don't, not if my bag isn't on it.”

“Sir, we have to leave......” pleaded the flight attendant, beginning to slide the door shut.

“I think you'll regret it.” said Officer Johnson. Clark better be grateful for this.

“I'm not going.” said Lana. Somehow, she had the crazy thought that she was going to come running out of that tunnel and Clark would be there, waiting for her.

“Very well, then there's something I have to give you, come with me.” Derek said, thinking he had tried to a reasonable degree and couldn't be held responsible.


The door was shut immediately and the plane pushed back from the gate. Lana felt a pang of regret at not being on it, but then she looked at that bag - the bag he had saved for her, and tried to hold her head high, as she made her way back up the cold corridor to the gate.


There was hurried activity in the cabin and cockpit, they were just making it out in time. The safety demonstrations were done so fast that one could be forgiven for thinking that oxygen masks were required to be worn in the toilets, and that the brace for crashing position was to be assumed every time the seatbelt sign went on.

Finally, they were powering up the runway, and everyone breathed a sign of relief when the wheels lifted off the ground and they soared into the sky.

A round of drinks was served, people started to settle in: take their shoes off and look around them. Mrs Olsen was in seat 35D, trying to read the in-flight magazine. Her young son, Jimmy was fiddling with the switches for the lights and the air pipes, and launching his toy Batman against the back of the seat in front of him, so it dropped with a plop onto the empty seat next to him, the one that should have held a lovely but conflicted young lady.

In the cockpit itself there was tense excitement. Time for the announcement.

“Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen, and thank you for flying with United Far Out Airlines, here at UFO we guarantee you'll have a flight that's out of this world.”

The voice was friendly, warm, strong.

“Those of you who are regular passengers, will be disappointed to know that your scheduled pilot, Captain Ross is unable to be with us today due to appendicitis. But don't worry folks, he's doing fine.”

There was a slight smattering of applause, and one or two groans. Captain Ross was famous for his one-liners.

“Even though I was called in on short notice, I promise my crop dusting skills are excellent and I'll take good care of you all.” There was some slight tittering of laughter, and a few gasps.

“I have the pleasure of being your Captain today, my name is Clark Kent.”

Such a nice voice, thought Mrs Olson, if only my Jimmy could grow up to be a fine man like that. Young Jimmy had pushed up the armrest between the two seats and was bouncing enthusiastically between them.

“Just choose one dear, OK and sit still.” This flight was going to be so long and boring.

So, he chose the one removed from his mother – no smacking from that distance and loaded his toys between them.

Clark's hand was shaking slightly as he held the passenger manifest. It was the confirmation of his hopes when he'd gotten the message asking him to take this emergency job - there was her name: Lang, Lana . He took a deep breath to try and steady the wild beating of his heart. If this worked, he would see her very soon.

“Hello again Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain. I'd like to announce we have a special in-flight competition running, the prize is a tour of the cockpit by yours truly. And the winner is …......... the one and only, the lovely young occupant of seat 35 F.”

People looked around – me? No …... you? not you , who? Mrs Olson thought that number seemed familiar, and looked to where her son was sitting now.

She screamed out “Jimmy, it's you!” And she wondered how Captain Kent could know about her son and how special he was.

A flight attendant came to escort them to the cockpit door.

“Go on!” urged First Officer Fordman. “I can't bear to see you pacing any more, Clark. This room's so small you're making me airsick! Go get your woman.”

“I...I don't think she's my woman just yet.” said Clark with his hand on the door release. “But after this, I'm hoping so.”

Okay, here goes, hope she's happy to see me again.

The door was flung open. “Surprise! I told you I'd find..........umm who are you?”

“This is my Jimmy, the young passenger you picked from 35F!” said his mother, slightly puzzled. Did this man know her son or......what was going on?

Clark gulped down his bitter disappointment. Something had gone terribly wrong.

“Hello Jimmy. Do you …...umm like planes?”

“No, not much.” answered the boy. “I like my superheroes.”

“Oh,....er, which ones?” Clark managed to reply.

“Batman is my favourite! He's cool!” cried Jimmy enthusiastically.

“Oh, really? I was always rather partial to Superman myself when I was young,” offered Clark.

“Nah,” said Jimmy. “Superman sucks. Hey …....can I fly the plane?”

“Sure,” said Clark with a small resigned smile. “Right after you introduce me to your sister.”

“Oh, Captain Kent!” gushed Mrs Olsen, patting her hair. This was going to be such a wonderful flight.




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Some part of Lana knew Clark wouldn't be waiting for her, but still, she had hoped he would be. A silent tear trickled down her cheek. There was nobody there. Derek Johnson drew an immaculate white monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to her.

“That bad, eh?”

“No! ….yes, I don't know.” She stumbled over the words. What did it matter, what did anything matter? He was gone, really gone. The bag wheels squeaked sadly as she pulled it a few feet to sink gratefully into a chair.

Derek Johnson was full of conflicted feelings. Should he tell her that Clark had promised to take him up next week? That boy really needed to make a decision. Clark had also entrusted him with a little package to give to her. Was it going to make things worse?

He looked at Lana sitting on the edge of her seat, leaning forward hugging her bag. This was more serious than he thought. He sat down next to her.

“Is it me?”

“Sorry?”

“Officer Johnson....”

“Call me Derek.”

“Oh, OK........... Derek, I think there's something wrong with me. I must be jinxed or something. Everyone I start to get close to goes away. I thought this time might be different.”

Fresh tears began to fall and Derek Johnson experienced a very strange sensation – the desire to voluntarily put his arm around a woman. So he did, and if he sat a little stiffly when she leaned into his arm, wiping her face with his handkerchief, she didn't seem to notice, but instead gained a small comfort from it. Time to carry out his mission.

“Miss Lang...”

“Lana.” She gave a small sniff.

“Very well, Lana. I think what I've got to show you will make you feel a bit better.” He reached into his pocket and produced a small flat box, placing it in her hand.

“What's this?”

“Open it and find out. Clark wanted you to have this. He insisted I find you and give it to you.”

Now Derek wished he wasn't sitting so close. Her reaction, might be loud. A crying woman – he was coping with that. A crying and screaming one, he wasn't so sure about, she might be more than he could handle.

The blue box lay on her small hand where Derek placed it. She looked at him with large hazel eyes misted by apprehension. Several times her other hand crept close to raise the lid, but then fell back into her lap.

“Go on,” he prompted.

She took a deep breath. It was impossible to guess what was in the box, it was impossible to not know.

Quickly, she lifted the lid and stared at the shiny contents.

“Oh, my God!”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Thanks for the request Queenclana! Can't believe there's only one person reading this. Lurkers please reply.


Merry Christmas from Seaspray.