Summary: Beatrice McPherson, young college intern of the Jump City Post, and part-time blogger, was put in the witness protection program. Not that one. The other one.

The Titans are scary.

Sure, I'm older than most of them by a year or two, I'm guessing (not that I know their ages).

I tower over the diminutive Raven, and am barely an inch shorter than Beast Boy and Robin.

But trust me, when superheroes sit you down at one of those metal tables and stare you down, you all but pee your pants.

I got arrested once, for skulking around at a crime scene, which is a very big deal.

They threw some charges at me, but nothing stuck so they let me go.

Now imagine that, and then take in to account that this time, the facts are different:

a) The Titans are the GODS of Jump City. The superpowered, 'I can kill you with my pinky' gods.

b) I am a measly human compared to them.

c) Most importantly, I may or may not be hunted down and killed by a psycho metahuman.

Hence the witness protection program.

There's also some other people in the room- a girl with near-glowing white skin and an anarchist symbol carved into her chest.

A young dark skinned man uninterestedly flicking open a lighter until I realize the source of the flame is actually his finger.

Also, a young blond boy making frantic signals with his hands and an intimidating looking Hispanic woman- big- not as in fat, but as in big boned. Big muscled.

Cyborg, the largest of them all, walks over to me, towering over my head in a great mass of metallic cyberpunk armor.

He offers me a friendly grin, then gestures to the unfamiliar faces.

"These are your security detail until we catch this dude." he says.

He points them out.

"Argent, HotSpot, Pantha, and Jericho."

"You'll be staying with them in a safe house in a town some miles away from here," Robin says flatly.

And that's that.


Pantha hit the punching bag with a huge grunt, using her considerable bulk to tear it from the ceiling and flip it hard over her shoulder.

"Some job, eh, little one? Four of us, to protect this girl."

Joey, known by the superhero community as Jericho, shrugged his agreement, steadily pounding at his own bag.

Block, punch, jab, duck, a roundhouse that sent the punching bag spinning.

He finished shortly and smiled at the large wrestler.

Could be worse.

Pantha chuckled, giving him a hard pat on the back.

"Could be worse."


I actually kinda like this one. Toni and Isaiah are adorable together, Pantha is strangely funny, and Joey is, well...Joey. :)