At least Clark has his feet under him, but balance is altered, as if a straight line is something of a challenge. Sort of keeps his hands hovered so he's not touching things, even in getting into the car, showing them at Bruce to indicate that he did promise, quit fussing. Tugs cape out of the way of the door just in time.

Looks around. What is happening?

Especially as the engine hums to life, and the sleek barely-there motion is felt as it pulls away. "Batman?" Clark queries into the empty space. "Okay. Bye."

Magic car. Got it. His face breaks into a silly grin, a laugh welling up unstoppably as he settles backwards, just enough self-awareness to know he sounds slightly insane which only makes him laugh harder. A hand lands on some panel that chirps at him, and he pulls that hand back quickly. "Oh no. Sorry, Broosh Wayne's magic car. No touching."

Giggling returns anew, hands to face.