This is the first fanfic I've ever posted, so be nice! That doesn't mean I can't accept criticism, though; all comments are greatly appreciated. In fact, you don't have to be nice at all if you don't want to. The title is a tentative one, so any ideas for that and titles of this and subsequent chapters are welcomed, too.

It's an AU, so I'll use that as my excuse if there's OOC-ness. I actually really like this idea, and the whole plot's sorta clicking together the more I think about it. I was proud of it, but then shortly after writing this first chapter I found another similar story (although not on ff dot net). I swear, though, I didn't copy; I had this idea all by myself!

I probably won't have much free time for writing, so expect updates to be sporadic. It probably won't make much sense at first, either, but all shall be explained.

I think that's it, apart from…enjoy! (And don't forget to review!)

Chapter One

"What is it?"

"Just another small-scale robbery; a downtown jewellery store. Let's go, Titans!"

All but one ran straight out; Raven floated behind a little, lost in thought. She'd been having premonitions for weeks, ever since the bank robbery a month or so back when they turned up only to find a significant lack of a villain, but now the feeling was definitely stronger. The police investigators were still baffled as to how anyone could have gotten past the various security measures, which were far from sloppy due to the numerous break-in attempts (successful ones, more often than they would have liked). So far, there were no promising leads.

It wasn't the only one of its kind, either. That had been the first, but since then scatterings of robberies had sprung up all over the city. There was no pattern that anyone could find, and no one had been caught.

Raven knew even before she climbed into the T-car with the others that this would be another failed mission to stop an enemy they'd never even seen. As the car sped across the water, she stared out of the window and reflected again on how strange all this was. Robin had mentioned something a few days ago about a possible connection between the burglaries, but it was only a thought, really, and hadn't been taken further than that. Most crime in Jump City was random, and the common criminal was never keen to stick around the scene of a crime.

That was just the problem, though; this was not the work of a common criminal. This was the work of someone who obviously knew what they were doing through a lot of experience…and incredible skill. They slipped past locked doors, taking out cameras and security systems before they could even register an invasion, and seemed to be in and out again before the alarms had sounded. The thief might as well have been invisible for all anyone had seen of them. This didn't fit with their information, though, because the villains with that kind of talent were the ones who liked to show off a little before making their getaway, often purposely waiting for the Titans to show up so they could indulge in a little pre-escape battling. It was unanimous among the bad guys that it made the whole experience a lot more fun.

They soon arrived at their destination, and Raven stepped out with her hood securely in place. From within its shadow she surveyed the front of the store as Robin talked with the owner. There were no smashed windows or any other signs of a forced entry; there was no indication that some of its finest pieces had been stolen not ten minutes ago.

Robin had finished his quick questions. "Team, spread out. See if you can find any clues."

They did so, obediently, although they all knew it was pointless. They never found anything; why would they today?

Raven sighed and lifted herself into the air, deciding to try an aerial scan of the area. Her eyes passed over the layout of the buildings below, trying to trace escape routes from the shop. For a moment she thought she caught a small movement in one of the back alleys, but shrugged it off as a plastic bag or something.

She should have learned by now to trust her instincts.

After a few minutes they returned, defeated. They would almost be glad to see one of their regulars, but the usual suspects seemed to be resting for the moment.

They entered the lounge and started aimlessly wandering towards their favourite spots. Robin passed a hand over his face and glanced at the computer, wondering if he should spend some more time researching possible explanations for the robbery. He decided, however, that he couldn't allow himself to get too obsessive.

"Titans, training time."

There was a collective groan from the others.

"What d'ya get?" asked a gruff voice, the words slightly slurred. The boy opened his palm, revealing a fistful of golden rings, necklaces and various other trinkets. The expensive items dangled ungracefully from a central twisted clump of chains. He dropped the pile of treasure distastefully into the man's greedily awaiting hands and watched his sunken eyes flicker through the selection.

"Not much," he grunted, turning to give the boy a glare that would have been sharp had it not been dulled by alcohol. The boy only glared coolly back.

"It's enough. You know I can't take much."

"You're not tryin'."

"We could get more if you still came with me." His voice was respectfully devoid of emotion, to the untrained ear. Only the two involved in the conversation could have detected a spark of defiance…and one of them was inebriated.

They regarded each other for a while, then the older man looked away with a muttered curse. "Fine. But you're going out again tomorrow. Something bigger this time; maybe a museum. And maybe, if you're lucky, you'll have company." He reached for his beer bottle, only to find it was empty. The boy wrinkled his nose at the stench. Although I should be used to it by now; it always fills up the whole place… The man turned towards another doorway to yell at his companion. "Oi, Kurt! Somethin' to add to the collection."

There was a slight clattering sound before a reply was heard. "Good; shove 'em in the sack, then, Stokes."

Stokes nodded, although the gesture was lost, and waved a dismissive hand at the youngster still standing by his couch. "Bed. Now. You'll 'ave an early start; we 'ave items to sort out ready for resale."

"What about dinner?"

Stokes sneered. "I'm sure you found somethin' in a trashcan somewhere. That's what you do, ain't it? Go on, get outta my sight."

The boy growled low in his throat but, remembering previous thrown bottles, quickly retreated to his 'room'. It was really just a musty rectangular space with a rough blanket on the floor which served as a bed; the walls were bare plaster, cracked in the corners, and there was a patch of ominously spreading mould on the ceiling near the wall which should have held a window. His few possessions that he'd managed to hang onto were strewn across the floor for want of somewhere better to put them. There was no light; when he shut the door, he was encased in total darkness.

Still, he'd seen worse.