Another story filling in for my unfinished Christmas fan fiction. I got the story from a weird dream I had after I saw Superman Returns for the same time, while I was watching season 2 of DLM on TV.
Notes:
Dead Like Me is created by Bryan Fuller and owned by MGM
Superman is created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster and owned my DC Comics
Disclaimer:
This piece of fiction is not made for financial gain, but simply as entertainment.
GEORGE LASS - THE MAN OF STEEL
My name is Georgia Lass. But I'm better known as Superman. Yeah I know, it came off just as weird the first time I heard myself say it. I have a pretty messed up origin story, mostly because it's really two stories, about two completely different, dead people. My parents, I guess you could call them. My "mother" was killed by a toilet seat from a space station that swooped down from the sky and smashed her. Not much of a hero's death, I know. My "father", however, kicked the infamous bucket after duking it out with some ugly creature called Doomsday. Because of all the innocent lives that I... sorry he, had saved, that moment and so many times before, people obviously thought it´d be a great idea to create a new Superman, so they shipped his body to this place called Cadmus Labs. However, they hit a bump on the road when they realized that his alien DNA couldn't be replicated without resulting in some bizarro-freak. That little problem was so neatly taken care of by splicing it with cells from a regular human being. Enter Mommy Dearest. How come they picked the regular DNA from George Lass, the pancake girl from Seattle, beats the hell out of me and appearantly that feeling is mutual. You should have seen how surprised they all looked when they found me floating around in the cloning tank. That is so not how I imagined the first time a man would see my naked body.
Metropolis,
June 28th, 2004
Up in the sky, far above the tallest metropolitan buildings that from such altitude were nothing but a bunch of tiny specks, she was was gliding gracefully through the air.
I´ve been flying for more than a week, but I never get tired of it. I just love it. Nothing but air around me, unlimited space to move through, the wind blowing in my face and my hair. The sunlight feels so great. I can´t remember last time I felt so full of energy. Of course, it could have something to do with that I´m less than a month old.
Not too far away from her, a jet plane came flying. She quickly dodged away. Obviously to avoid collision, but also to avoid being seen.
Pheew, that was close. I don´t think anyone saw me. They don´t want me to be seen in public quite yet, unless it´s an emergency.
Then she noticed how the plane wasn´t moving straight, but more wobbly and unsteadily, while black smoke was puffing out of the right wing´s engines.
Looks like that emergency came up sooner than expected.
Aboard the plane, oxygen masks were released, prayers were being said and people's lives flashed in front of their eyes. She wasn´t late with following. As she caught up with the wing with the burning engine, she grabbed onto it in an attempt to straighten up the aircraft. After a moment of struggling, it snapped off like an old twig. Along with the massive shard of metal, she was flung through the air for quite a distance before she resumed control of herself. Now the jet was plummeting even more violently.
Aaw, [beep]...!
She took off immediately and approached the nose, pressing her hands against it. Tons of metal, containing cargo and passengers, falling in hundreds of miles per hour against her seemingly petite body frame. It could most fittingly be compared to trying to stop a water balloon with a grain of sand. Of course, this was anything but an ordinary grain of sand.
"C´mon, c´mon, you lousy, fracking piece of [beep]...!", she growled as she was pushing every muscle in her arms to the their maximal capacity.
She had no idea whether she would make it, but she knew she had to do her best, even if it would kill her. Again.
If I only could understand what's with me and stuff falling down from the sky?! I mean, really.
On ground level, at the world famous Metro Field, a dull and uneventful baseball game took place. That is, until a 150 feet long air jet was falling vertically over the ball field, which was quickly evacuated by players running away in terror. So did some of the spectators as well, while some stayed to watch the plane being slowly and carefully put to the ground by a small, unrecognizable figure wearing a very familiar costume. She floated over to the plane's front door, ripped it off its hinges with her bare hands and stepped in to check on the passengers.
"Is everybody okay?", she asked everybody in the cabin.
Nobody replied. They were all shaken up from the flight drama and even more shocked to see her.
Sure, no need to thank me. After all, I just saved your lives. Oh, just give'em a break, will you...
Red cape, blue-and-red tights, an S inside of a diamond-shape frame on her chest. Naturally, her outfit had many differences, not to mention they were worn by a young, strawberry-blonde girl. But that didn't matter. In some inexplicable way they still looked at her, like she was the person they all knew from before. One of them, a crow-haired, well-dressed woman stood up. Despite what just had happened, even with her ruffled hair and presscard hanging crooked and loosely from her jacket, she looked somewhat calm and strangely appealing. The presscard revealed her name and employer: Lois Lane, Daily Planet.
"Are you all right?" Why is she staring at me in that 'Truth about Jane' kind of way? And how come I´m staring back at her the same way?
"Y-y-y-yeees...", Lois stammered.
"I hope this hasn't put you off of flying." The frack am I talking about? Half of these people are probably scared [beep]! "Statistically speaking, it's still the safest way to travel." Well, that´s easy for me to say. All I need to do is stretch out one arm and I´m all set to go.'
She returned to the door's opening and looked out. The crowd of thousands of people roared joyfully and even more did so as her face was broadcast on TV-screens all across town.
At that moment, everybody knew it. Superman had returned! Superman lived! Surely, I can´t be the only one who finds it totally messed up that they called me Superman? Like, hello! Long hair, skirt, boobs! Okay, so I´m no Power Girl... whoever that is... but they do have eyes to see with, don´t they? I guess it´s like a family having a dog named that dies after many years. After poor Buster croaks, daddy goes to the pet shop and comes home with another puppy. 'Everybody look, Buster is alright" Just as new!' Great, I´m a fracking replacement pet.
Daily Planet newsroom,
earlier the same day
"Let´s see what we´ve got." Perry White, editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet, was looking through the papers he had received from the job-seeker. "Georgia Reeves."
"I usually go by George", she pointed out.
"Very well", Perry nodded. "George, then."
By the way, I forgot to mention my secret identity. The first name was a no-brainer, of course. The last name I came up with when I saw a poster of Keanu outside a Blockbuster´s. The first thing I did when I got to Metropolis, right before saving hundreds of people from a tragic, horrible death, was to get myself a job. Unfortunately they didn´t have a Happy Time in this city. Not sure it even qualifies as unfortunate... Instead, I nailed a job at one of the country´s leading daily newspapers. Not bad, eh? Seems I've been blessed with this irresistable urge for wearing glasses and acting like a first class geek, not to mention one hell of a knack for writing. I wrote about a dozen phony articles for my job interview that morning. As long as it pays the bills, I´m not complaining. Much.
Perry had read halfway through one of George´s work samples, when he looked up at her over the desk.
"I can´t help but notice that not just the way you act and look, but also the way you write, reminds me a lot of one of our former employees", he noted. "Perhaps the name rings a bell: Clark Kent?"
"Oh yeah, I was a big fan of his work, I've read all of his stuff", George stated. I was this close to saying that we were cousins, but there´s only that much lying you should do around a gang of investigative reporters.
"Needless to say that he's been a great influence for you in a lot of ways", Perry suggested.
Who knows, maybe there were more than just two strings of DNA tossed into the cloning process. Like some big, genetic gangbang? Ewww.
The interview was quickly interrupted by a young, redheaded boy stepping into Perry's office.
"Sorry chief, but...", he apologized, only to be cut off in mid-sentence.
"Olsen, you better have a good reason for barging in here this way?!", Perry barked.
Well, what do we have here?. George thought to herself, studying the boy with great interest.
"Like I said, I'm sorry, but they just called from Metropolis General", Olsen explained. "Palmer just died."
"Damn, where will I find another reporter on such short notice?", Perry grunted, before looking back at George. "Tell you what, I'll give you a shot."
"What?!", George yelped, surprised. "Just like that?"
"Of course your stuff is a bit flawed, but you've got potential", said Perry. "Besides, I need someone to cover this whole Gertrude Vanderworth mystery. Welcome to the Daily Planet."
"Golly!", George exclaimed so excitedly that she had to adjust her glasses. "Thanks, Mr White!"
"Don't thank me, thank Norm Palmer for dying", said Perry dryly.
"It was his time", said Olsen, showing his respects for the late Norm Palmer.
George got up, ready to leave, when she faced Jimmy Olsen who was quick to shake hands with her.
"How're you doing, I'm Jimmy Olsen."
"Hello, I'm George. Haven't we met sometime before?"
"No, I don't think so?"
It would be great if all my memories didn't come almost excludingly from George Lass. Sometimes, I have these dreams at night that I try to write down as soon as I wake up, but mostly it´s all a blur by then. I pretty often catch myself knowing things only Superman would know and the flashbacks get more and more usual while I'm awake. Most of them happen when I meet Lois. Everytime I see her I have these feelings I normally wouldn't have about a girl. Obviously she and Superman had something going on before he died. It´s the same with Jimmy, only the complete opposite. He's such a sweet guy, but whenever I think about him in, er... that way, this mental block gets in my way. Long story short: I have a crush on a girl I can't be in love with since I'm straight, and at the same time I have a crush on a guy I can't be in love with since Superman is straight! Great Rao, I need a shrink.
Wait, did I just say Rao? What the hell does that mean?
Seattle,
one week later
I don't really know what I'm doing here. It's like something forced me to go all the way here. If the Cadmus guys found out about this, they would be so pissed. I'm already in enough trouble with them as it is. But what are they gonna do about it, anyway? Take away my allowance?
She was floating outside a house, but not just any house. This was once the home of Georgia Lass, in which her family still lived. Even though she was several feet above the roof, her super-hearing and X-ray vision allowed her to see and hear them as clearly as if she was with them in the same room.
"So Joy, you know that thing that happened in Metropolis very recently?", asked Clancy Lass, Georgia's father.
"What, you mean the blackouts?", the mother, Joy Lass, asked back while she was preparing the dinner. "What about them?"
"No, I was thinking more of that girl who's showed up?"
"Are you talking about Superwoman?", their daughter Reggie asked from the living room, where she was seated in front of the television.
"Just keep watching the TV, sweetie", said Clancy. "Your mother and I are talking." Reggie was offenced by this, which Clancy regretted. However, he wanted the conversation to be strictly between him and Joy. "She's right, though. It is about Superwoman."
"Mmm-hmmm."
It could easily be presumed that Joy was too busy keeping the potatoes from being overcooked to pay attention, but Clancy knew from experience that she heard every word he said.
"You haven't noticed anything special about her?", he asked meaningly.
"Except for the fact that her outfit isn't the most original?", Joy said sardonically.
Great, even when I'm a superhero, she complains about the way I dress!
Clancy couldn't find the right words. However, he had prepared himself for that eventuality. He went to open a drawer to pick up something he was going to show Joy.
"I want you to take a look at this", he said.
"Well, since you're so eager to let the flounder get burned...", Joy muttered and turned her back against the stove. She was given a photgraph of their dead daughter. "Why are you showing me this?"
When Clancy also held up a newsmagazine with a picture of Superwoman on the cover, Joy instantly knew where he was going.
"You don't... happen to notice some sort of likeness between these two?", he wondered.
"I guess they look somewhat like each other", Joy shrugged.
"Somewhat? They're practically identical!"
"Clancy, listen to me", Joy said seriously and irritated. "I know that things have been very difficult since what happened to George. It's been for all of us."
"I know, that's why I was thinking, maybe we should try to contact her."
"No", Joy said firmly. "No, we're not gonna do that."
"But Joy...", Clancy tried.
"George is dead!", an upset Joy interrupted. She kept her voice in a considerable volume, but it was enough to make Reggie flinch in the couch. "That won't change, just because you see some girl that reminds you of her in a paper! Christ, what's the matter with you?" Joy returned to her cooking, but wasn't as gentle as earlier as she took out her frustration on the food. "Besides, she hangs around in Metropolis. She has no reason to come all the way here."
No reason to come here...
Superwoman decided that she had heard enough and flew away. If she'd kept paying attention, she would also have heard the words that were exchanged between Clancy and Reggie in the living room.
"I tried, Reggie", Clancy said regretfully and put his hand on her shoulder. "I really tried."
"I know...", Reggie replied sadly.
Anybody who says a superhero's work is easy, deserves a kick in the nuts. It's not like somebody writes you little note that gives you the exact time and place or the name of the person that needs to be rescued. But with a little luck, you might still find yourself at the right place, at the right time.
In another part of the city, a car was stuck at a railway crossing. The driver screamed in panic as he failed to start the engine and was unable to get out of the door. The train's headlights blinded him the very instant before it crashed into the standstill vehicle. Then, the man found himself standing at the side of the track, watching his car being demolished. He could hear a female voice talk to him from behind:
"Sorry I couldn't save the car, but at least I got you out of there in time."
"Am I dead now?", the man asked, frightened, without looking at the person he spoke to.
"Not one bit", Superwoman responded. "You're all alive and kicking."
The man turned to see his saviour face to face.
"S-Superwoman? But I thought you lived in..."
"Metropolis, I know", she nodded. "I was just passing by. You're welcome, by the way. Now that my work here is done, it's time for me to..."
Superwoman was right about to take off, when her hearing picked up a distant, agitated male voice with a British accent.
"What the frack?! He didn't die! He was supposed to die, that's I came here!"
Superwoman traced the voice to an alley and made it there in the blink of an eye. She found herself in a dark alley where she encountered two people. A girl about her age and a slightly older fellow.
"Uh-oh", the girl said.
"Bloody [beep]!", the man exclaimed.
"You two, freeze!", Superwoman ordered.
The Englishman didn't do as she said, but started to run away. Superwoman ran past him and blocked his way, hence he came to a halt. He stared at her in shock, then over at the girl accompanying him.
"Man, I must be tripping...", he gasped.
Not knowing the true meaning of his words, Superwoman grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up in the air. The only thing even remotely visible in the dark was the glimmering from the leathery cape and the sleek S-shield.
"You must be tripping if you think you can try to kill somebody and then get away from me!", she said. Hey, this is the first time I get to threaten a bad guy. It´s actually fun!
"George, do something!", the guy begged.
Wait, did he say George?
"What the hell do you expect me to do?!", the girl screamed. "She can juggle a whole fracking plane, what can I do against her?"
A confused Superwoman glanced at the other girl called George. The name wasn't the only thing they shared. There was something about the way the girl moved and talked that Superwoman found disturbingly familiar. The way she talked in particular. Superwoman entirely forgot about the Englishman she had hunted down and dropped him to the ground.
"I landed on my keys...", he whimpered.
Superwoman slowly approached George and looked at her with great wonder. George took anxiously a few steps back while she attempted to reason with Superwoman.
"Listen, I don't know how to explain this to you. But please, believe me when I tell you that we weren't going to kill that guy. We're not some hitmen or anything like that. We just take care of people before they die. [beep], that didn't come out right..."
George tried frantically to find another way to describe her job without revealing too much, when her and Superwoman's faces fell under the light of a lightpost. Now both of them had the same bewildered look. To George it was like looking into a mirror. Even though that wasn't the case for Superwoman, it wasn't a far cry from it. An uncomfortable silence took place between them during something that felt like an eternity. At last, the two broke the silence by asking the other the same question, at the same time:
"Who are you?"
None of them could answer that question, but none of them didn't really expect to get an answer either. Two worlds that were never meant to meet had collided.
"I'm sorry", said Superwoman. "I'm not supposed to be here."
Without saying anything more, she flew off, leaving the two strangers by themselves.
Who was that? If I didn´t know better, I´d think there are more George Lass clones than me out there. But it wasn't a clone I just met. Don't ask me how I know, just call it a gut feeling. At least one thing is for sure. I'm not George Lass. George Lass is dead and there is no reason for me to come back here, ever again.
Which she didn't do either. She returned to Metropolis before anybody had noticed her presence in Seattle. The only trace she had left behind her was the bizarre train accident which was spoken of the next day. People talked about how a train had rammed into a car and the driver was found next to the tracks, dead from a heart attack. Only three people knew exactly how it had happened. Two grim reapers and a binary cloned metahuman.
THE END
