Once Tim got back to the cave, he stripped out of his suit and showered quickly. Dressing, he paused in front of the computer. Granted, it would take far less time to search for information on who the Meta, Kon, was on the cave's powerful computers. On the other hand, if Batman checked what he was searching for, Tim would have no excuse to make.

And he couldn't risk telling Batman. He had no idea what the Meta's powers were, and if they included telepathy or the ability to sense lies, Tim was screwed. He sighed. It would have to be his school's computers, or nothing.

ooooooooo

Great. Just great. Half an hour just to hack into the damn server, and it's worthless. None of his powers match any of the descriptions. His name brings up nothing. Even the identities of the thugs who attacked him are no help—they've worked for practically everyone. Tim softly cursed and sat back in the uncomfortable plastic chair, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. He shot a glance at his watch, and then closed the program, wiping the hard drive as he did and implanting a subtle virus—the IT people they called to come check it out would put it down as a system malfunction, and this way no one would be able to see what he'd been doing. Grabbing his bag, he headed off to class.

ooooooooo

It had been three days since Tim had met the Meta, and all his searching had amounted to zilch. He'd dug up the remains of the phone, but it was too badly damaged to get anything out of, and the make and model were among the most common out there. The rent-a-thugs had disappeared, and with them Tim's last lead. On the other hand, the Meta hadn't shown up again, so perhaps Tim's luck was turning.

"So. What's up?"

Only years of practice kept Tim from freezing up mid-swing. Dropping onto a near roof, he spun to face the Meta, snapping out his Bo staff and falling into a defensive crouch.

The guy's eyebrows shot up and he came to a halt, floating several feet away. "Whoa!" He raised his hands. "Don't shoot, I'm unarmed."

Tim's eyes narrowed. "If you're here to try threatening me again--"

"No! I mean, um, no. That's, I wouldn't have done that in the first place except that I really don't want to deal with Batman. And it's not like you don't already know I have secret super powers!" he added indignantly.

"You're floating mid-air thirty stories up. In public. Without a mask. Yes, I can see those are definitely secret powers."

The Meta rolled his eyes. "Dude. It's the middle of the night. And also? If anyone get a picture of this, I think they'll be a lot more focused on the whole "Urban Legend Vigilante" next to me."

It only added to Tim's irritation that he did, in fact, have a point. "If you're not here to blackmail me, then what do you want?"

The guy opened his mouth, then closed, looking, for the first time, rather sheepish. "Um. I wanted to hang out?"

Tim blinked. "You wanted to... 'hang out.'" The guy nodded eagerly. "With me." The guy nodded again. "The vigilante you last night assaulted and threatened to expose and thereby sentence to death."

"Okay, I think 'assaulted' is a bit--"

"Are you insane?"

"I--"

"Schizophrenic? Bipolar? In desperate need of a—"

The guy cut him off. "I'm bored!"

Tim felt a tense heat at his temples signaling the start of the sort of headache usually brought on by playing go-between for Bruce and Dick or having to work with (read: baby-sit) Impulse for any extended period of time. "You're bored."

"Yes!" The Meta looked relieved Tim had finally gotten the point. "I mean, no offense man, but this city sucks! The people are all gloom and doom, and all the nightlife involves crime. There's nothing to do here."

"So you decided to come bother me."

The Meta shrugged. "Hey, I'm a social kind of guy, and you're the only person in town I know. Plus, you're kinda funny."

Tim very carefully did not choke on his tongue. "I'm what?"

"Funny. You know, with the sarcastic remarks and the --- and the shrieky thing your voice does when I say something you... don't... like..." The guy trailed off, eyeing Tim's murderous expression, and moved back a foot. "Um. Yeah."

Tim felt a headache begin to throb. He was quite fond of Gotham's usual villains. The average would-be mugger or rapist might not have provided much in the way of intellectual stimulation, but they made excellent punching bags. That and the occasional encounter with another of the Rogue's Gallery was more than enough excitement for Tim. This Meta was too strong to fight, knew just enough to be very dangerous, and appeared to have special abilities solely for annoying Tim. He also appeared to have no intention of leaving.

"I have work to do," Tim snapped out tensely.

"What, more beating up bad guys?"

"N--close enough, yes."

"Cool. I'll watch."

Tim gritted his teeth.

ooooooooo

"So then I said--'Hey if you're going to get all PSM-ing just because I happened to be out on a date with another girl when you called, maybe we shouldn't go out any more.' And then she was all, 'You don't get to break up with me, I'm breaking up with you!' And all I said, all I said was 'Break up? We weren't dating we were just having fun.' And that's when she screamed and tried to rip my throat out, can you believe it? Man, some girls are so uptight. Don't you think? Hey, Rob, still talking to you."

"I heard you." Tim dropped down on top of the gang member, thankful for the steel in his boots heels.

"Well, you didn't say anything, man."

"I didn't realize you needed another person to carry on a conversation."

"What's that supposed to--oh, hey, thanks a lot. Y'know, I wouldn't be talking so much if you'd just talk at all, man."

Tim snorted and snapped out his staff, catching another on the chin and following it up with a kick to his stomach. "I'm. Busy."

"Come on, man, it's not like I'm distracting you," Kon said, absently catching the gun that Tim kicked out of the man's hand and twisting into new shapes. Tim wondered if he knew how disturbing that was to watch.

"Don't you have anyone else you could go annoy?"

"Oh, 'annoy,' that's real nice man, I try to entertain you—"

"You're not Leno."

"—help with your 'criminal bashing'—"

"Metal sculpture is not 'help.'"

"—and all you can do is tell me to go away?"

"For the past two hours, yes."

"Jerk."

"Idiot."

"But lucky for you I am such a cool guy (and also so totally bored), that I will ignore your incredible meanness and your bad fashion sense and hang out with you anyway."

Tim ground his teeth. The Meta wasn't actually as much a nuisance as he'd implied, but Tim had nicely compartmentalized his life—'hanging out' did not fit into 'patrolling Gotham.' Also, the kid was unbelievably arrogant. If he'd been a blonde, Tim would have considered calling up Green Arrow to see if he had any more illegitimate and unknown children around. "Aren't you worried Batman could show up?"

"Oh please. Everybody knows he ditched you and Gotham for the JLA."

That hurt in a way quips about his costume hadn't. "Like your dad ditched you?" Tim asked coldly.

The Meta—Kon's—face darkened, and an unmistakable hurt flashed through his eyes. "Well, fuck you too, Rob." He took off from the ledge, disappearing into the night sky in a matter of seconds.

Good. Tim was not going to feel badly about that.

"Hey kid, piss off your friend?" The last man croaked out. Tim's fist lashed out, and the man collapsed, now with several loosened teeth.

He was not.

FIN