RAVAGER:

I'm still in shock from the call.

My T-Communicator rang two hours ago. "This is Robin. Ravager, are you busy now?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Catch you later."

As I turned it off, I parried another thrust by my opponent. "Ha! One more such distraction, and victory will be mine!"

"Don't get cocky, kiddo."

He was a newbie, or more fittingly a noob. He'd called himself the Super Saber and his motif was, you guessed it, swords.

ZING! CLANG!

After a string of petty crimes, he'd decided to go for the big time this morning by robbing the San Julio branch of Bells, Cargo. He was just leaving with the loot when I arrived on the scene.

SPLANG! CHLONG!

"You're not doing too bad," I observed as we circled warily. "Pretty good, in fact."

"Then why--" KRING! "--are you smiling like that?"

"Because--" SPING! "--I'm not left handed."

After a pause, he asked, "Aren't you supposed to switch hands now or something?"

"Oh, no, no, no," I grinned wickedly. "I was born right-handed." I drew my other sword. "I trained to become ambidextrous."

SHONGG! ZING! KLING! TZANG!

"Your costume sucks--"

SSHRIP!

"Your patter sucks--"

TCHINK!

"And you fight pretty well--for a retarded, one-armed five-year-old!"

And then I delivered the coup de grace.

Well, not literally.

After knocking him out and tying him up for the police, I flipped the T-Communicator open. "Now I'm not busy."

"Ravager. I ask you this with the utmost seriousness... How would feel about joining the main team--on a permanent basis?"

The world spun. "Oh my god. This is not a hypothetical question, is it?" I asked, grabbing a lamppost for support.

"The question stands," Robin replied, and I saw him grinning because he could guess the answer.

"Yes! Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes! Thank you! Oh my goodness, this is--this is such an honor, I, I, I don't know what to say--"

"Say you'll come here as fast as you can?" In the background, I can hear the others cheering and high-fiving.

"Oh, boy, you bet!" I exclaimed, disconnecting.

And now here I am, standing before the awesome T-shaped tower--a marvellous feat of engineering, complemented by a security system that redefines "state-of-the-art". In some other, less happy timeline, I might try to hack it, or simply blow my way in. Instead, all I have to do is press my hand against a shining grid next to the doorway, triggering that happy phrase spoken in a computerized monotone: "Identity:Teen Titans:Primary Member:Confirmed:Access Granted."

And so I enter the empty ground-floor hall--only it's not empty at all. There's another Titan here--someone I didn't expect.

"Hey, Jericho, what are you doing here?"

He waves shyly. "Oops!" I blush. "I forgot you can't... um... yeah."

Jericho points up, then brings his fingers to his face in the common "telephone" symbol. "Called you... the Titans? They called you here? Why?"

"I believe I can answer that."

We both turn--it's the four main Titans, coming down a flight of stairs. Robin, of course, is the spokesman.

"You are both here for the same reason: you were invited. And you were invited because you both accepted offers of joining the team."

What?!

"You both agreed to it separately; I'm sure this is a mere formality, but now we ask: do you agree to join--together?"

I look at Robin, then at Jericho, then back at Robin. For a fleeting instant I consider hitting somebody. Or running away. Then the initial shock subsides, and I must admit that their decision to add the two of us--specifically us two--makes sense from several angles. But that still doesn't completely lessen the sting...

But while I was raised to be many things, a fool was not among them. Jericho and I exchange a glance. Then he raises his thumb.

And I say loudly and firmly: "I accept."

This is gonna so totally rock.