[dc] ... then the mountain will come to Mohammed

Jun 22, 2006 20:04



Chemistry is simple.

Kon likes the satisfaction in balancing both sides of a catalytic reaction. Reactant, enzyme, product: it's predictable in ways that he just... gets.

Nick Lawson, who Kon also sits next to in English Lit, gives him a sideways look halfway through the pop quiz, because Kon's on the last question-set and tapping his pen idly against his thigh. Kon flashes his eyebrows. Lawson probably thinks Kon's cheating in Chem, given how much he sucks in English.

He's not stupid, he just can't be assed with Steinbeck.

Prairies are not Kon's thing.

Fifteen minutes later, they've passed their papers forward and Mrs Shanks is talking about buckminsterfullerenes. Kon likes how they look, the complicated interlacing, and he thinks about getting a buckyball as a tattoo, thinks about Bart's Green Lantern tattoo and how that faded way too fast, thinks Bart had looked--just that once--like he hadn't wanted to be a Flash, and then the deputy principal comes in with a new student.

Clark always tells him to sit near the back ("Just in case"), so of course he's the one with the spare seat next to him for the new guy, who's--

--Tim.

"Hey man," Tim's not even properly looking at him, just glancing around the room and fuck, winking at Melissa Edwards when she cranes around to watch him drop into the seat. "Tim Drake."

Kon just stares at the Smallville High transfer paperwork in Tim's hand and blinks a few times. Tim's wearing the sort of black t-shirt that looks like cigarettes should be rolled up in the sleeve. He's looking expectantly at Kon with these really big blue eyes that Kon sort-of knew about but was pretty confident were only for really special occasions, ones that didn't require a domino mask, which was pretty much never.

"I--Kon. Conner. Kent." Yay, he can remember his name. Kon feels dazed by the big screaming WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE pounding behind his eyes, but Tim grins and leans a shoulder towards him.

"Show me where the jungle gym is at lunchtime?"

::

"So, Kon, you gonna show me around?" Tim slings his bag over his shoulder, and Kon knows there's probably seventeen different types of weaponry stashed in the indie-cool battered leather satchel. People are milling around them in the sort of centrifugal way that's clearly meant for checking people out. Tim props a foot up on the chair and bends over an imaginary stray shoelace, which means he's obviously not too concerned about keeping a low profile, because those are some tight jeans.

::

In the hall:

"Dude. What the fuck's going on? Is everything okay?" Kon has to resist the urge to steer Tim in the other direction, out of Smallville High and back somewhere where, you know, he makes sense.

Tim just squints at him, and then he smiles, and Kon thinks he's had more grin-action from Tim in the last half-hour than like, ever. "Is this Ms. Burns' calculus class, do you know?"

They stop, and Kon scrubs at his hair that's taking its sweet fucking time to grow back in. "Wait, what? I thought you didn't even go to school anymore?"

"I do now," Tim says, like it's completely obvious, and also Kon thinks Tim looks almost happy about that. Wierd. Tim tips his head to the door. "Calculus?"

"Jesus--yes, whatever!" Kon pushes the heel of his palm into Tim's shoulder. He's nudging him into class, or testing he's real, or something. "I have physics now, so, fuck... just meet me at lunch, you headcase."

"It was nice to meet you, Conner," Tim calls out down the hallway after him, so Kon flips him off.

::

They're taking notes on optical diffraction in physics. That's good, because it means that Kon can sit and listen out for Tim's Chuck Princeton accent amongst the Midwestern babble.

Kon's not sure if it's a good thing or not that Tim actually sits through his calculus class rather than start reconaissance on whoever--or whatever--he's here for.

He's really not sure that it's a good thing that Tim answers three questions about derivatives, because isn't the point of being undercover that you keep a low profile?

Ann-Marie Saunders scooting close and sharing her textbook is definitely not keeping a low profile.

::

Ann-Marie pats Tim on the arm and flicks her hair back behind her ears when she goes off to join her friends in the cafeteria. Kon crosses his arms and scowls, mainly because he's not sure who he's pissy at.

Tim slides into the bench opposite him and brandishes a fork, peering at the lasagne on Kon's plate.

Kon puts an arm protectively in front of his pasta. "Nuh-uh. Spill."

"Don't blame me," Tim says, spinning the fork over his fingers, "Oracle got pissy that I didn't finish high school."

"So?"

"Dude, I can hack, but she could revoke my citizenship. I don't want to think about what else she could do--and, you know, it's just a few weeks."

Kon relents and pushes the plate over, but he's still not sure he believes Tim. "What did--uh--your boss say?" No way Batman would be cool with Robin taking off to Kansas. There had to be something else going on, right?

Tim wipes tomato sauce off his bottom lip. "He--ah--a colleague--advised him that this was a good place for me to come." Tim looks at his fingers, and then he looks at Kon, and he keeps looking at Kon while he sucks the sauce off his thumb. "Was it?"

"Huh," says Kon, but he doesn't look away.

::

That afternoon is possibly even more surreal than the thing with the Legion and the time-travelling teenage Clark and Darkseid. Or the volcano.

It's hard to tell if Tim is just really, really good at pretending to be a normal guy, but Kon also reckons that the amount of time Tim spends staring out the window is carefully calculated against some sort of national average. It's American History, which is one of the things Cadmus thought was really essential to plant in his brain as some kind of innate knowledge, so it's okay for Kon to stare out the window as well, and besides, then he can watch Tim.

Kon's notes for this class consist of the following:

Tuesday 7th
roosvelt - new deal & 30s
chapter 12 p76-85

clone?
double?
evil twin?
---> need secret pasword or handshake for this shit
LL plan B? >:O (tim too smrt)
tt prank? cassie wld kick ass
bm checking up on me. SM? (busy. also haha)
tim = crazy? seems ok

Halfway through Mr Ferguson's drone about farm programs and the economy act two things dawn on Kon and make him grin. The first one is that barring some kind of mind control alien plot, that is actually his best friend sitting next to him in class.

The second is that the last class they have is gym.

::

And he's going to kick Tim's ass.

kon, tim, dc, titans

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