Chapter Two

"Um, hi. My name is Allen, Allen Smitheson. I just moved here and don't know much about Gotham, but I'm willing to learn. So bear with me, okay?" he introduced himself with fake confidence in front of his class. He resisted the urge to glance at his target. The older boy was sitting two rows from the back of the room, one row from the right. A very neutral spot in Drake's opinion. He was directed by the teacher to sit at any empty spot he found and walked to the back of the classroom to sit at one of the desks in the very back row. He pretended to ignore the evaluating glances Timothy Drake was subtly shooting in his direction. He was suddenly happy with his decision to position himself behind the teen and well out of sight. He crossed his arms on the desk and sighed silently when the teacher began droning about the date and place of some historical incident that changed the course of history. Drake thought history was useless unless it had something to do with battle strategy. That was the reason the Custodian never taught him, right? Drake glanced around a little nervously. Now that he thought about it, it was the first time for him to be in school as a student. He fought to calm himself when he realized that lunch break was probably the only time to approach his target and he had absolutely no idea how to do that. He buried his head in his hands and silently whimpered. He had a feeling it would be a bad day.

Class was alright, the teachers were pleasant at some times and his classmates smiled and waved to him as he passed by in the halls. They were friendly kids. He walked over to Tim's table in the cafeteria at lunch break. "Can I sit down here?" he asked politely, hoping his shyness wasn't showing as much as he thought. Tim raised clear blue eyes to his brown ones and motioned to a chair beside him.

"Make yourself comfortable." Drake was suddenly very glad the teen had been eating alone. He felt undeniably self conscious. He was used to approaching adults as a mature teen. He had no experince with approaching normal teens and pretending to be one himself.

"Hey, I'm Allen Smitheson. You?" he offered the older boy his hand.

Tim shook it with an artificial warmness. Drake had the feeling Tim was used to this. "Timothy Drake. Call me Tim." Drake inwardly sighed in relief. It seemed like the press was accurate when they spoke of his maturity. He felt a little less awkward.

"Sorry, you must think it's strange that I'm approaching you but I'm terrible at making friends and you're the only one who's face I've seen before." Drake rambled off, Tim smiled at him amusedly.

"That's alright. I'm not such a people person myself..." he leaned toward Drake conspiratorially. "But don't tell anyone I told you that. The press says I'll grow up to be a more reliable Bruce Wayne just with less scandalous rumors involving the ladies." he grinned and Drake found it strangely contagious.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." he smiled back.

"So, where did you say you were from?" Tim continued their conversation.

"I didn't." Drake replied honestly, "I came from England... well, I transferred from L.A to England and from there, here." he shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

Drake pulled up all the information he had on Timothy Drake, he was a straight A student, right? "Say, I heard from one of the teachers that you're really good with school. You're a hot subject, every teacher wants you in his or her class. You think you can help me with my math? It's all gibberish to me." Tim smiled at him and promised to help as much as he could.

"Oracle's on line, she want's to talk to you. She won't tell me what's going on unless you or Robin are online." Nightwing spoke to Batman over his earpiece. He sounded a little serious so Batman paused his routine patrol and complied immediately.

"Oracle, you're on." Batman told her as he landed on a deserted roof.

"Okay, I just found out that someone hacked into the GCPD. Usually I would know about these things immediately but whoever did this must be pretty good at what he or she does. I'd say this is pretty much Robin's level of hacking." the cybervigilante told them.

"That's saying alot." Nightwing agreed. "What did the hacker want?" he asked.

"That's the thing I'm worried about." Oracle said grimly. "The hacker stole all case files on every costumed criminal and vigilante in Gotham. That counts for visiting ones too. Meaning; he has information on almost every member of the Justice League and much more."

"Why?" Batman demanded.

"I don't know..." Oracle paused. "The only files he touched other than people in spandex are the files on Commissioner James Gordon, Bruce Wayne, and his associates." He heard Nightwing suck in a breath.

"Should I come over there? I can ask someone else to handle Bludhaven. There's not much going on over here." his son asked concernedly.

Batman shook his head. "If I need you here, I'll call you immediately." he told him firmly. "Oracle, if you catch anymore movement, contact me." With that, he cut the connection. He frowned, first the bombing and now this? It was too much of a coincidence. He debated on telling his young partner... he shrugged his shoulders. He could always leave a note.

"Alfred! Bruce! I'm home!" Tim called out as he walked through the front door.

"Master Tim! I had thought you would be visiting a friend! If you had changed your mind, you should've called!" the faithful old butler exclaimed when he greeted him.

"Sorry! Change of plans! A friend of mine is going to visit here for a study session in a few hours." Tim told Alfred apologetically. "Is there an empty room we could use?"

Alfred nodded. "With the size of the mansion, I would find it hard not to find room for you and your friend's study session." he replied warmly. "And Master Tim," he called as the teen turned to leave. "Congratulations on inviting your first guest. I will inform Master Bruce." he told him crisply.

Drake found himself standing outside steel gates five minutes before meeting time. He gulped down a gasp. Seeing Gotham reminded him of his home... but this was almost deja vu. He pressed on the doorbell and was answered a few seconds later by a crisp English accent. "Good evening, Master Smitheson. Master Timothy has been eagerly awaiting your arrival." No sooner had Drake thanked him when the automatic gate opened and Drake nearly dashed up the trail to the front door.

It was open and waiting for him so he hurried and found himself face-to-face with his enemy's target. Bruce Wayne. "G-good evening, , Sir." he stuttered. Bruce looked him up and down not unlike what Tim had done in the classroom.

The man smiled at him finally. "Nice to meet you, I'm Bruce." he held out his hand to shake.

Drake nervously took it, only then realizing the clamminess in his own hands. He resisted the urge to flinch at the feeling. "I'm Allen."

Tim bounded onto the scene, an elderly butler following closely on his heels. Drake guessed he must be the man who answered the bell. "Glad you made it!" Tim exclaimed. "And just in time too! Alfred made the most heavenly batch of chocolate chip cookies, you've got to try some!"

Drake had to smile at Tim's enthusiasm. He then turned to nod at the butler who introduced himself as Alfred Pennyworth. Of course, Drake already knew that, but seeing him outside a picture was an entirely different experience. He turned back to his new friend. "So, Tim, how about that study session? There's a science test coming up and I don't know the difference between Uranium and Curium." Alfred smiled approvingly at them as Bruce tried to hide a scowl. It made Drake and Tim grin at each other.

"Right this way, Master Smitheson." Alfred beckoned them to follow him.

"Allen, please, Sir." Drake smiled pleasantly as he followed.