He didn't usually take advantage of Bruce's connections, but desperate times called for desperate measures. There was no way they'd let him in as himself, but as a representative of Wayne Tech, he'd been of interest. Dick Grayson set his face into an expression that was every bit as much a mask as the one he wore prowling the streets of Gotham and walked through the front doors of the London headquarters of the mysterious Torchwood Institute.

It had been four months, two weeks, and five days since he'd last seen Starfire. She'd tried to talk him into going on vacation with her—"They say that in London there is a giant eye!"—but he'd declined, told her he was too busy and she should go have fun anyway. It was quite possibly the stupidest decision he'd ever made.

She was supposed to be gone only three days. The first day she'd called him, full of excitement at all of the things she'd seen—"They have pies made of meat!" He hadn't worried too much when she hadn't checked in on the second day, but when she hadn't arrived back as scheduled, he'd started to really be concerned. The Titans weren't really together any more—maybe she'd just stopped off to visit Raven or Beast Boy or Cyborg and forgotten to tell him. But none of them had heard from her either.

By the end of the week he'd been frantic enough to beg Bruce for help. By the end of the month even the unflappable Batman was deeply concerned when his considerable resources failed to turn up any trace of her. It had taken them months of work to even uncover the existence of Torchwood, let alone figure out that they were who had most likely taken her.

Now he was at Canary Wharf, claiming to be interested in some of the tech that Torchwood had as a means to get inside the building. Beside him stood the small, pale figure of Raven, posing as his assistant. In his pocket rode Beast Boy, transformed into a flea so as to pass unnoticed. Cyborg had been furious that he wasn't with them, but they knew it was possible that the mysterious organization had the technology to see through the illusion he sometimes used to hide his half-robot body. Until they were sure they knew where she was, they couldn't risk anyone getting suspicious.

They'd been given an escort, a young woman named Adeola. Dick and Raven took it in turns to ask intelligent questions while keeping their eyes open. They were in the research division when they finally found a clue.

The head of the department was an American named Thomas Gordon who seemed nice enough, if a bit manic about his work. But the clue came from an unassuming young man about Dick's own age who he would have barely looked at if Gordon hadn't stopped him.

"Ianto, could I bother you to bring our guests some coffee?"

"Of course, sir," was the reply. "I'll just put this away first." Dick would have taken no further notice of him it hadn't been for the fact that he was holding a bottle of yellow mustard with a straw in it.

He managed to turn his sharp indrawn breath into a coughing fit, during which time he pulled Beast Boy out of his pocket and issued a terse order to follow the man with the mustard. He and Raven delayed as long as they could, encouraging Gordon to talk about his research and lingering over the truly excellent coffee. After about half an hour, he felt a sudden weight in his pocket. He casually slipped his hand inside and felt feathers. Relief surged through him—a bird meant he'd found her. If she hadn't been there, it would have been a mouse. He gave Raven a signal and recognized the relief in her eyes.

It took them another hour to make their way out of the tower, but twenty minutes after that they'd joined Cyborg at the suite Dick had taken at the Hilton.

"They've got her locked in a room with some sort of collar on her," reported Beast Boy without any preamble. "The guy I followed gave her the mustard and apologized that he couldn't stay to talk. She called him by whatever that weird name of his was and said it was all right, but she looked so sad."

"Was she all right?" growled Dick, too emotionally spent to keep his voice calm. His friends took no offence.

"She didn't look hurt," shrugged Beast Boy.

"But Starfire doesn't really show injuries," added Raven darkly.

"I spent some time while you were gone hacking into their systems," put in Cyborg. "I didn't get much, but I think it'll be enough."

"How much more could you get if you had another two days?" asked Raven, and Dick glowered at her.

"Two days? TWO DAYS? She's been in their hands long enough!"

"We need to maintain our cover," said Raven tightly. "Unless you want them to know that Nightwing is tied to Wayne Tech?" Dick frowned, but said nothing. "And don't you think that if they know it's you, they'll come after her again?"

"I hate it that you're right," muttered Dick. "We'll have to tell them we're not interested and leave, then sneak back in for her after I've been seen back in Gotham."

Raven laid a hand on his arm. "We'll get her out, Robin."

"No matter what it takes," added Cyborg.

"Yeah," agreed Beast Boy. "Titans forever."

It ended up being four days before they were again by Torchwood Tower, this time in full kit as the Titans. Cyborg had identified a hole in the continuous CCTV coverage outside the building—or possibly manufactured one, Dick wasn't sure which. He waited in it now with Cyborg and Raven as Beast Boy scouted inside to make sure the coast was clear.

"Now, fifty feet ahead," came Beast Boy's voice on the communicator, and Raven wrapped her cloak around the other two and teleported them to his location. She looked pale even for her as they broke apart, but assured them she was fine.

They crept down the hall, Dick in the lead as always, trying to avoid the cameras as much as they could. No alarms went off, so he could only assume they were successful. They made it to the room where she was being held without obvious incident.

Beast Boy punched in the door code and Dick slipped into the room. Relief flowed through him as he laid his eyes on his girlfriend for the first time in months. She was pale and thin and wearing a heavy collar, but he saw no obvious injuries. Her face became incandescent with joy as she saw him.

"I told you my Robin would come for me," she said, and it was only then that he registered that she was not alone in the room.

It was the young man who had served them coffee. A little younger than Dick's twenty-five, a little shorter than his 6'2", and though his physique was somewhat obscured by the neat suit he wore, probably not as well-muscled. Raven slipped into the room as Dick took a step towards the younger man, who took an immediate step back.
"You must not hurt Ianto," said Starfire, her voice weaker than he was used to hearing it. "He has been my friend while I have been kept here."

"There are cameras in this room," said Ianto in an accent Dick couldn't place—still British, but not the same as the London accent he'd been hearing all over the city. "They'll know you're here."

"No, they won't," growled Dick. "One of our friends is good with tech. It's on a continuous loop and not recording."

"It won't last long. There are fail safes." His face was impassive even though Dick was now right in his face. "You're sure it's not recording?"

"Yes."

"Then move quickly. I can't help you escape, but I can tell you that Gia and Francis are having a tryst in corridor A5 so they've turned off those cameras. And since Gia's in security, she knows how to get around the fail safes. That leads to C9, which leads out."

Dick looked directly into the younger man's blue eyes, but he saw no deception there.

"I've got it off, but she's weak," said Raven. "You'll need to carry her."

Dick nodded, going quickly over to lift her into his arms. "I wish to say goodbye to Ianto," said Starfire.

"You need to move," protested Ianto, but Dick, who knew her well, still took her over to him, suppressing a surge of jealousy when she kissed him.

"Hwyl fawr, Ianto," she said softly, and then she hit him across the jaw. Ianto dropped like a rock. "If he is unconscious, they will not think he helped us," she said as Dick slipped out the door. "I do not wish him to get into trouble."

"We planned to take corridor B7. Should we take his advice?" asked Cyborg, looking at a map of the building he'd called up on his arm.

"Yes," said Starfire positively just as an alarm went off.

"B7's cameras are now all on," said Cyborg frantically as the readings went crazy. "Guess we better try A5."

The Titans hurried through the lower levels of Torchwood, getting into a brief fire-fight in corridor C9 with some guards before breaking through to the outside. A5 had been clear.

Cyborg had dusted off the T Ship for this mission, something they all fit into a little less comfortably than they had ten years before—particularly Dick, who was nearly eight inches taller than he'd been at 15—but it worked. Torchwood didn't quite have the audacity to shoot them down over London, but they didn't take any chances. Adrenaline ran high until they were well over the Atlantic.

It was, typically, Beast Boy who broke the tension. "His name is Ianto?"

"It is Welsh."

"So I suppose that was Welsh you spoke to him?" asked Raven.

"Yes. He would always bring me mustard and listen to me when I was lonely and needed to speak with someone."

"What did they do to you?" asked Cyborg.

"I...I would rather not discuss it now."

"Are you okay?" asked Dick softly.

"I will be. My power comes from the sun, but since I have not seen it in so long….I am not even sure how long." She sounded lost. His brave, beautiful Starfire sounded lost.

"Four months, three weeks, and two days," supplied Dick. Silence met that statement, nearly oppressive in it is entirety, before Beast Boy again broke the tension with a joke.

Technically, they didn't live together; Dick had an apartment in the heart of Gotham, and Starfire had a small house in one of the nicer suburbs. The truth, however, was that they were most likely to be found together at one of two, which meant that Dick was as comfortable in her place as in his. He found spare linens so that Beast Boy and Cyborg could share the spare room and Raven could bunk on the couch while Starfire stood in the backyard and stared around her.

She said little that evening, though she did at least keep smiling, but he didn't call her on it until they were curled together in bed that night.

"You know you won't get over it if you keep it bottled up."

"I know," she said softly. "But I am not yet ready to get over it. I want to rage and scream at all of those terrible people who kept me there and poked me with things to see what would happen. I want to find them and poke them back, again and again until they scream as I did. I do not like this feeling, Dick. I do not like it at all."

He didn't know what to say—words were never his strong point, and years living with Bruce hadn't helped—so he pulled her tighter against him. To his relief, she relaxed for the first time since they'd left the Tower.

"I want to go home," she said softly.

"We are home—"

"Tamaran," she said. "I want to take myself far away from them so I do not do anything I would regret. Will you come with me?"

He had already exhausted every minute of his vacation and sick time looking for her, and his boss was a hair's breadth from firing him, connections to Wayne Tech be damned. None of that mattered as much as her. "Of course."

"I love you, Robin."

"I love you too, Starfire."