Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
"So what you want for your birthday... is sex?"
Clark Kent grinned at his wife of almost fifteen years. "This surprises you, Chloe?"
"Um... well... I was thinking of something a little more... permanent. You know, like books or CDs or something."
"You said anything I want," he reminded her. "And what I want is sex."
"But you have sex every day. Well, almost every day."
"True. I want something... special."
She squinted at him suspiciously. "Special how?"
"I don't know," he answered. "That's the surprise. You come up with something special, anything special, and I'll be happy."
"But..." She floundered, looking bewildered. His wife had always been a straightforward kind of girl. She usually just pushed him into bed and had her way with him. Not that he minded. "But I don't know... I mean, I can't quite think of..."
"Think about it," he said, grinning at her. "You have three days to come up with something really special."
"Um... special. Like... uh... give me some suggestions here?"
"No," he said firmly. "No suggestions. Put that creative brain of yours to work and rock my world, Chlo."
Three days later, he let himself into their apartment after work with a good deal of anticipation. The place seemed dark and silent. "Chlo?" he called.
No answer. He dialed up his superhearing a bit, and didn't hear her heartbeat anywhere nearby. He flipped on a light, and a paper left on the table near the door caught his eye.
He picked it up, his heart pounding, and read it. It was written in her handwriting, and it read simply, Come find me.
He tilted his head, turning up his superhearing some more. Her heartbeat should be audible to him if she was anywhere in Kansas.
But he didn't hear anything.
He frowned, really puzzled now. He'd seen her at work half an hour ago, and she hadn't had time to get out of Kansas. Well, unless Bart Allen a.k.a. The Flash had given her a lift or something.
He concentrated harder, straining to hear one distinctive heartbeat among millions, but still he couldn't hear her.
He changed out of his work clothes and into his superhero outfit, more quickly than any human eye could have followed, and shot out the window, his cape rippling behind him.
Twenty minutes later, he'd circumnavigated the globe, listening for her all the while, and hadn't found her. He was beyond puzzled and into anxious now, although he tried to tamp down his anxiety, aware that this was probably all part of her surprise.
But he was used to being able to hear her heartbeat. And it made no sense that he couldn't find her. He should be able to find her anywhere on the planet...
Arrested by the thought, he braked in midair and hung there, staring up into the sky.
The moon hung, round and silver, against a velvet-dark sky. The JLA had just finished building its headquarters there, a massive steel-and-glass building that towered over the stark, lifeless surface. He'd been there more than a few times, and Chloe had written a series of articles on its construction, but they'd never been there together.
But if he couldn't hear her heartbeat... then she wasn't on Earth.
He took a deep breath, sucking a substantial amount of oxygen into his lungs, then arrowed toward the moon.
He went in through an airlock and dropped to the floor in the artificial gravity. The vast structure seemed quiet, and he cocked his head, listening.
The heartbeat he'd been searching for echoed in his ears.
He grinned in triumph and headed for her in a rush of superspeed.
She'd obviously used the JLA's teleporter, because she was waiting for him in the great dome of the observatory, at the very top of the huge structure. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, drinking in the warm, familiar scent of her hair.
"Hi, Clark," she said, leaning back against the S on his chest. "Took you long enough."
"It took me a little while to figure out where you were. I can't hear your heartbeat through vacuum, you know."
"Yeah, I knew that. But I also knew you'd figure it out before long."
She leaned back against his chest, her body warm and soft against his. The transparent observation dome rose far over their heads, giving them an unobstructed view of Earth, glowing in the sky like a precious gem, and the stars scattered over the dark emptiness of space.
They were silent for a long while. At last she said, tentatively, "Is this special enough?"
He squeezed her a little. "Making love on the moon? I'd say that's special, all right. We've never done it before, for sure."
"Well, until recently, doing it here would have resulted in my eyeballs being sucked out of their sockets."
"Ewwwww, Chlo. Way to kill the mood."
She chuckled, patting his arm with her hand. "Sometimes," she said softly, "I'm kind of envious that you can do all these amazing things. Some of them, like flying, you can share with me. But flying to the moon isn't something we can do together. Breathing vacuum isn't healthy for me."
"Don't be envious," he said softly. "You're more amazing than I'll ever be."
She snorted. "Yeah, right."
"I'm serious. Your articles change the world, Chlo."
"You're a journalist too, Clark."
"Yeah, but my articles don't make the impact yours do. Some of the stuff you've written, the stories you've broken... well, sometimes I'm envious."
She leaned her head back further, and smiled up at him. "Most of the time," she said softly, "I'm just glad to be married to you."
"Yeah." He squeezed her again. "Me too."
He turned her around and lowered his head. The Earth shone brightly overhead as their lips met, and an odd tremor passed through him, a feeling of unaccustomed awe. They'd never made love with the Earth glowing in the sky above them. This really was special.
Then again, he thought as he kissed her, making love to her was always special.
Her hands stroked over him, divesting him of his costume, tossing it onto the floor, an untidy heap of crimson and blue and gold. He stripped her too, taking off her jeans and t-shirt and her undergarments, exposing every inch of her perfect skin to his hungry gaze.
He knew every inch of her. But here, on the moon, it was all different somehow. Different, and new.
Their mouths fused, their tongues tangling deeply and intimately, and their arms wrapped around one another. They stood there for long moments, holding each other, their bodies moving together. And then, as if by silent agreement, they slowly sank to the floor.
He couldn't wait a second longer. He slid into her warm depths, taking it slow, cherishing every moment. She felt hot and wet, so good he couldn't restrain a low moan. Her arms tightened around his shoulders, and she groaned into his mouth.
And then they were moving together in a slow, intimate dance of shared pleasure. He made love to her for long moments, until his skin grew slick with sweat, his muscles began to tremble, and his hips moved faster.
He rolled onto his back and opened his eyes, gazing up into the starry vault of space, and the Earth above. The world where the woman he loved had been born, the world he had grown to love, the world he spent his life protecting.
This one woman represented the very best of Earth, and that was why he had married her.
Because to him, she was what humanity should be.
She rose up on her knees, moving hard on him, and he forgot about staring at the Earth, forgot his thoughts, forgot about everything but pleasure and heat and her body on his. His eyes drifted closed, and his head arched back.
Their bodies strained together, and he heard her crying out, felt her body squeezing his in hard, fast contractions. He clutched her hips, being careful not to exert a thousandth of his strength, and let the maelstrom overwhelm him.
Pleasure broke over him, sending him soaring.
Afterward, he was somewhat surprised to discover he was still on the floor. He'd thought he might have inadvertently floated. But he was still sprawled on the metal planking, gasping for breath, with her collapsed on his chest.
"Hey," he murmured, nuzzling her hair. "You awake?"
"Mmmmm." She lifted her head and gazed at him through sleepy eyes. "Yeah, I am now."
"I just wondered how long we had the place to ourselves."
"A few hours. That was all I could talk Bruce out of. He said the new headquarters hadn't been designed for recreational purposes, but for business."
Clark laughed softly. "He would say that."
"Anyway..." She sat up and stretched. He observed the subsequent bobbing of her breasts with interest. "I thought maybe we could make love in the conservatory, too."
"Or we could just sit here and admire the view." He waved a hand at the dome overhead, but his gaze was still fixed on her chest.
"We could," she agreed, pulling her bra on and obscuring the view, to his mild annoyance. "But then you wouldn't get to eat your pie."
"Pie?" He looked at her with more interest than before. "You got me a pie?"
"I didn't just get you a pie. I baked you a pie. That's the real surprise. I cooked."
"Oh, my God. That isn't just a surprise. It's a shock."
"Shut up," she said, smiling as she whacked him lightly on the head with her t-shirt. "I think it's edible. I got the recipe from Martha. Apple pie, just like your mom used to make."
"Cool." He stood up and went into superspeed, dressing in a fraction of a second. "Let's go have some pie."
She pulled her shirt on and stepped into her sandals, and he swept her up in his arms and headed for the dining area.
When they whooshed into the large room, it was dark. He frowned, because the lights were supposed to go on automatically whenever someone entered any room in this building. All the hairs on his neck rose, and suddenly he had the uncomfortable feeling that something wasn't quite right.
"Chlo," he whispered, holding her against his chest protectively. "I think maybe--"
The lights went on, so bright he blinked. The lights illuminated quite a few members of theJustice League, all dressed in costume, as was customary when they were in the headquarters. He looked around, seeing Green Arrow, standing with his arm around Black Canary, the Flash, Aquaman, Cyborg, Zatanna, the Martian Manhunter in his human guise, and the Angel of Vengeance. And to the side, standing slightly apart from everyone else, Batman.
A huge banner was strung across the wall: Happy Birthday, Kal!
He couldn't stop a broad grin from spreading over his face. He'd never had parties with his friends when he was growing up, and this was really cool. But he still didn't understand why he hadn't known they were there.
"I didn't hear your heartbeats," he said, tilting his head quizzically.
"It is not easy to surprise you, Kal," J'onn, the Martian Manhunter, replied. "I made certain you did not hear us."
Clark nodded. That made sense. J'onn had all sorts of mental powers, and could make people believe they were hearing all sorts of things-- even silence.
He looked around at the crowd, and smiled. It was nice to know that all these people cared about him enough to surprise him this way. It was nice to have such good friends.
And it was nice to have a wife who was the best friend of all.
"Thanks, everyone," he said, and squeezed Chloe. "And thank you for doing this."
"You're welcome," she answered, hugging him. "Happy birthday. Now, how about that pie?"
He smiled, because the evening had turned out far better than he could have possibly imagined. He'd gotten everything a man could want. Sex, a surprise party with lots of friends, and pie.
Really, it was the perfect birthday.
"Sounds terrific," he said.