Bruce's face was set in a tight-lipped frown as he surveyed the smoking slag heap that had been his medlab computer. Of course, he could have been watching a beautiful sunrise and still have the frown, a comment made by just about everyone who knew him, from Alfred to Zatanna. That didn't keep the frown from being appropriate, considering a young Kryptonian had just melted his computer by shooting fire from her eyes.

The fact that he'd been standing in that spot before he'd gotten out of the way didn't factor in.

"Her name is Kara Zor-El, from Krypton," Clark said, as if the laser eyes and fainting from kryptonite hadn't given it away. Bruce turned to see them descend. "She's my cousin."

Small world after all. Well, maybe not now. Bruce knew he wasn't good at talking about things like this.

"Your cousin just torched $50,000 worth of custom hardware."

Case in point.

Thankfully Clark seemed too happy with the whole finding-out-he-was-not-alone-anymore thing to take umbrage, considering he was still looking at his new cousin.

"Send me the bill."

Snark was good. Bruce could work with snark.

"On a reporter's salary." He turned away. "Right."

#

Damn it, Clark was turning around to say thanks before he flew off with Kara to the Kent household. Understandable, considering the wringer they'd all been put through the past few days with the Apokolips matter, something that still made Bruce's ribs creak. Unfortunately, he was tapped out in terms of genuine expressions of emotion after Kara told him her mother's name.

Snark it was, then.

"You still owe me a new computer."

"Might take a while. Reporter's salary."

Bruce would've relaxed if it wasn't anathema to his very core. Parting with dry humor was a thing good friends did, right? Or at least the closest to friends you could allow yourself.

His detective instincts tugged at Clark's expression as he left. He had been joking about paying him back, right? Clark could push a planet out of its orbit or outrace a laser, but meeting rent in Metropolis was a challenge. Yet, something told him Clark was planning something- Barry might've been the big prankster in the League, but Clark was a surprise contender for second place.

It oddly put him at ease, being on guard for something unexpected. He'd need to prepare.

#

He wasn't prepared.

He'd just come back from a long night out -wannabe meth kingpin- and had finally changed into his pajamas for his two hours of sleep when the manor's air defense radar went off, alerting him of something big and slow approaching from the south, towards the front of his home.

For the few moments it took for him to grab his phone and check his surveillance, all sorts of scenarios rushed through his mind. Perhaps it was some alien ship coming to plead his help for saving their dying homeworld. Maybe Intergang had found out his identity and launched a cruise missile. It could be Waller in a helicopter demanding he call off his investigations into Task Force X.

He opened his phone, stared for a few moments, then slammed it down.

"Goddamn it."

He didn't even bother to change out of his pajamas as he threw the front door open and walked across the massive lawn of the manor, dew-slick grass tickling his bare feet. Right on time, Clark came down, holding a massive pallet above his head. He set it down gently on the grass, then dusted his hands off before planting them on his hips, chest puffed proudly.

"What is this." Bruce was too tired to phrase it as a question.

"It's the $50,000 for the computer," Clark said, cape fluttering in the pre-morning breeze.

Bruce looked down at the pallet. Then he looked back up.

"These are pennies."

"$50,000 worth of pennies," Clark corrected.

"And where did you get five million pennies? Last I recall, banks don't normally have that much on hand."

"Oh, I didn't get this from my account." He grinned. "Reporter's salary, remember?"

"That still doesn't answer the question."

"I had some free time on my hands, so I combed the country at super-speed, grabbing any pennies laying around I could find. I read in a magazine once that Americans lose tens of millions of dollars worth of pennies every year. On sidewalks, under couch cushions in furniture stories, cars abandoned at junkyards, even thrown out vacuum cleaners... pretty easy to find when you have super vision."

Bruce looked down again with a grimace. "That cannot be sanitary."

"Don't worry, I cleaned them all, too. They're as good as new." Clark chuckled. "I even ordered them by year. I actually found some rare collector's items, but I think you'll forgive me for holding on to those."

"I think I'll survive." Bruce folded his arms. "The better question is, how do I explain the twelve-ton pile of pennies on my front lawn."

"I'm sure you can think of something." Clark smirked. "Eccentric billionaire playboy, remember?"

With that, he took off, vanishing into the pale dawn. Bruce looked up for a few moments, then looked back down at the pallet.

"Goddamn it, Clark."

There were footsteps on the grass behind him, and he glanced to the side to see Alfred walk over, already wearing his work clothes. With a gloved hand, he plucked a penny from the pile and held it up, his face even more a mask than his compatriot.

"Another one of Master Kent's pranks?"

"Who else?"

Alfred handed him the penny. "Well, I shall go fetch the trolley, Master Bruce. What do you wish to do with them?"

Bruce looked down at the penny in his hand. The first creeping beams of sunlight glittered off the coin as he turned it from side to side, jaw set.

"I have an idea."

#

Clark noticed it almost as soon as he stepped into the cave. It was hard to miss, considering it was about ten feet tall and ten feet wide, propped up on a stand right next to the stuffed , who itself was a story unto itself.

"So, I see what you did with the fifty grand I gave you."

Bruce's face didn't betray any sign of wry amusement as he continued typing on the main computer. "You said it yourself- people lose pennies all the time. I figured one giant penny would be pretty hard to lose."

"Pretty hard to get, too." Clark walked over to the penny and took a sniff- it was definitely made of copper and zinc, with touches of nickel and tin and even some steel from the wartime pennies. "How'd you do it?"

"I hired some professional casters to make a perfect mold and smelt them down, then just rented a truck. Had to use the Batmech to carry it into the cave."

"That sounds expensive." Clark looked over. "How much did it cost you?"

"About $120,000."

"So it literally cost you more money than if I hadn't paid you back at all."

If it weren't for his superhuman senses, he wouldn't have seen the slight grin on Bruce's face. "Eccentric billionaire playboy, remember?"

Clark laughed. "Throw in a reporter's salary and you got a winning combo right there."

Now you didn't need super vision to see the grin. "World's finest, in fact."