1 - The author does not owns nor has any claims over Super Sons, Robin, Superboy, its characters or situations. Tale for entertainment purposes only

2 - Due to the response over my other take on Supersons, I will try my hand at the kids once more. Thanks a lot for all the readers,

..oOo..

drkshdowcr ckr666 – hey ASL?

smartgirlAC – you meant "I am Norman Cobb, nephew of Signalman"?

Norman's first impulse as to turn off the computer, after reading such answer. The second was to call this "Smart Girl AC" to a private talk. If she was a better hacker than himself, he could learn some tricks. Otherwise, he could try and find more about her. They got to a private screen.

drkshdowcr ckr666 – u got me. U are?

smartgirlAC – don't need to waste your time trying to hack me. My name is Lenore O'Csaif. We need to talk.

drkshdowcr ckr666 – why?

The answer was an address, some a burger joint on a busy Metropolis street. This Lenore discovered even the city he was living, it seems.

A quick search discovered that, yes, there is a Lenore O'Csaif living in Metropolis, studying at the snotty West-Reeve Private School. At least, Norman learned he could save the trouble of renting a suit, combing his hair in a conservative way, wearing heavy frames in order to look older. She was about his age. He threw the conservative glasses on the table, got his usual pair, when a reflex on the lens called his attention.

He went to search again on the computer and smiled. He got that girl.

Norman arrived 15 minutes early. He wanted to set up the scene, be seated, drinking some coffee in small gulps, throwing everything he learned about her, acting superior, like a movie.

He entered the salon, only to find Lenore already there, reading a book and lazily nibbling on a French fry. In the table, two soft drinks. He decided to go on, anyhow.

"So… Lenny Fiasco? The Eraser?"

"As I call him, 'dad'. Took you how long to read my name backwards?" She gestured for him to seat.

"It was due to him that you study in that private school?"

She nodded.

"He was quite good at erasing money trail and transactions."

"Oh, allow me to say I am sorr…"

"No, no, 'was' because banks and banking laws evolved, he did not."

A brief silence follows.

"So… what do you want?"

"The same every teenager wants."

"The latest JoyBox with Warrior's Call 3?"

"What we wanted since the world exists, Norman."

The boy thought for a while.

"To be better than our parents?"

"Than the previous generation, yes. And we can do it."

Norman got up.

"I am not interested in playing third-rate villain. I can just wait a few years, and get a job at a start-up and…"

"Do you mean 'I don't want tons of money'? How many kids you know with this same technology company dream? You are a decent hacker, Norman. Not the best, but an adroit one. And I, I am a girl with a plan. One that will make both of us rich."

He sat again, and made the hashtag symbol with his fingers.

"Hashtag intrigued. Tell me more."

She raised her soda

"To the biggest heist in recent Metropolis history and to the legacy of Signalman and The Eraser becoming 'do you mean Hashtag and AutoCorrect old folks?'."

"I think I am starting to like your way of thinking, dear AutoCorrect."

"This is not fair, Damian."

The son of Batman raised his eyes from his homework and smirked at Jonathan Kent.

"You failed the test, you clean the Fortress."

"It was supposed to be a Spanish test, and…"

Damian shook his head.

"If you remember, I used the phrase 'language spoken in Spain'. Aranese qualifies."

"Our school does not even have a course of this 'Aranese'. I bet most teachers never heard of it."

"Irrelevant."

"The whole purpose was for you to help me with my Span…enough. I clean my part, you do yours."

"Now are you convinced this hide-out was a bad idea?"

"Are you kidding? This is the best thing ever. I am even saving for a foosball table. It will go right…"

"We would be better off with more exercise and tactical equipment."

"Admit, you like it down here."

The young Wayne thought for a while.

"I can see fish. I like animals."

"You even called it 'Fortress', Damian."

"That's because you keep saying this stupid name again and ag.."

An alarm was heard from the computer.

"That's not the alarm from the Justice League."

"No, it's from one of my investigations, Jon. Someone is scamming clueless rich folks for a week or two now."

"Isn't this kind of thing more suitable for your dad? Or even my mom, she would love to expose this on the paper."

"Not when it's done at West-Reeve."

"Our school?"

Next: Investigation and Detention.