Stop Stalking Me!

So basically you beat up little kids for living? – Red X

-t-h-i-e-f-

Across the unique oriental style studio-apartment, dominating the room with undeniable power of presence sat the weirdest looking burglar he'd ever seen, not counting himself. A man wearing what appeared to be an advanced form of cybernetic body armor customized in black and steely silver, emphasizing the sense of instantaneous respect, if not terror, he demanded. However, the strength-enhancing technology failed to capture Red X's attention, as did the lazy posture, one leg crossed, fingers steepled before his masked face, one side sleek, jet black, the other dull bronze. The cool, calculating depth in the eyes beneath the mask made the perceptive thief wary.

X's immediate impression carved itself in his brain like a pen-knife. This man, this criminal, this murderer sitting comfortably in the chair across the room had no intentions of stealing from him and judging by the lazy demeanor with which he regarded the strangely garbed thief, it became apparent that he'd expected his arrival. Furthermore, the man already made good use of every second X hesitated to act, already those chilled eyes had swept up and down his profile, taking him in all at once and yet soaking in every inch of his appearance, tiny details, posture, even emotion though X's mask felt secure. He'd gotten a decent feel for X the way X had gotten a feel for him.

The 'feel's went like this:

Red X: thief

Mystery Man: killer/possible psychopath

As far as capabilities went, Red didn't like where his options fell on the table. X knew when the need for violence became necessary, but in all his life he'd never actually walked into a situation where taking the life of anther human being arose as a desperate requirement. While he felt certain beyond all doubt this guy had killed before, he knew he himself had never done so, though he was capable of such. He needed to act, quickly, before this stranger absorbed any further conclusions by simply seeing him here in his own home, caught off guard, all of which really pissed the cat-burglar by the way.

Arching a single brow, Red X folded his arms across his chest and assumed his usual, unperturbed conduct. So some freak-show busted into his apartment. Big deal. Maybe he was some on-hands, rich employer looking for just the right thief to make his holiday jolly and full of good cheer (and money). Though, that still didn't explain how this guy found his apartment.

Finally the masked man spoke into the silence, answer Red's previous question. "Good evening, Red X. Forgive my intrusion. I'm Slade… and I've been watch you for some time."

X tapped a finger impatiently against his bicep, looking most unconcerned. "Uh-huh…That still doesn't explain why you're in my apartment, more specifically in my room, asshole. No one, come in my apartment and no one comes in my room."

The coldness in the man's – Slade was it? – eyes (well actually you could only see one eye. The black half of the mask had no eye opening) rippled with something that mimicked amusement. "Very well, I'll be brief. I've taken an interest in your talents, watched you and the longer I do the more you impress me."

"That so?" X inquired doubtfully. He plucked a small speck of lint from the fabric on his shoulder and flicked it away. "Well, I'm not impressed so…get out or I'll kill you."

Slade's eyes rippled with that haunting amusement again. "Kill me? Now I think you're smarter than that. I've been watching you, remember?" The man stood up, slowly and confidently as some kind of creepy panther in body armor. X tensed inwardly, fingers coiling over the pressure points inside the suit's gloves. One hard jab would activate the twin crisscross, X-blades he'd come to favor in combat. Despite his weaponry, beneath the bleached skull mask his skin prickled as cold sweat broke out across his forehead. Slade crossed the floor slowly, silently like any master thief.

Already X's brain had fallen into automatic crisis-evasion mode, thinking the swiftest avenue of egress, the best move if Slade attacked him, all the many reasons another criminal could choose to so meticulously study him. And worse and most perplexing to X remained how the son-of-a-bitch pulled off such an intense scrutiny without his knowledge. X prided himself on possessing natural powers of incredible observation and his usual wariness, made him keen of such spying

He approached the more thinly built criminal in three powerful strides and stopped only just out of X's arm reach. From the new proximity, X clearly saw the man's eyes narrow. "You don't kill. Larceny, counterfeiting, lying, and ruthless greed are not beyond your obvious intellect, but murder… It's simply not in your nature. A flaw I plan to correct. Now…sit down like a good boy and hear out my offer." He paused menacingly. "Or I can make you listen."

X thought about this a moment. "As great as those options sound…I think I'm going to give you the finger…" He does. "And tell you to rot in hell."

Then Slade's eyes darkened and X knew he'd stepped in it big. Like it or not, size and strength went to Slade this round. X roughly estimated his opponent to weigh at least double what he did. Though Red X didn't consider himself incapable of fighting Slade, he knew his body type simply did not encompass the capability to put on that kind of muscle mass. X's body to weight ratio ranked as one of the most incredible physiques in the athletic world, but being able to hang by one arm for over an hour and literally throw yourself over cliff-ledged did squat against a guy who wanted to crush your skeletal structure into a compact travel size.

He'd have to outpace him.

Faster than he imagined possible, Slade darted forward and seized X by the front of his suit, hauling the lithe burglar forward with a violent jerk. The thief moved quickly however, index finger punching the pressure point in the centre of his left palm. Instantly, he struck the offending arm off him and knocked it wide causing Slade to stagger a step back. X swung low, fist plowing into his attacker's gut only to be anticipated and caught by Slade's palm.

The empty sockets of the thief's face mask widened as Slade wrenched his wrist into an impossible angle and swung his arm back for the finishing blow. X reacted more on instinct than thought and swerved just in time to avoid the punishing fist that sailed over his shoulder and took a chunk out of his wall.

X whipped his free arm, flicking a sharp red star into his hand. Faster than even Slade could follow, the younger thief rammed the star deep into Slade's forearm between the steel armor plates, blood spurting hot from the flesh. Slade snarled, a demonic sound, like that of rabid tiger and threw X's arm from him and dropping the smaller fighter to the floor. Dive rolling, around his opponent, X clenched his hands, pressure pads in his suit activating the scarlet rotary blades hidden near his wrists.

The thief spun and cut low, supple arms slicing through the air inches from the carpet, aiming to hamstring the masked man. It would have worked too, except Slade, it seemed, obtained alloys on the 'bleeding edge' of scientific discovery because X felt the jarring contact of metal on metal and blades snapped. As the spinning stilettos shattered against Slade's armor jagged bolts of pain ramming up his arms and into his shoulders. Disabled, X hissed haplessly as Slade seized his throat and roughly pinned him up against the nearest unbroken wall, sliding him up the side of the stucco like a rag doll. X grappled ineffectively against the larger man's wrists, gasping for air.

Slade heaved a long-suffering sigh and studied the masked face of the smaller criminal in his grip. "I anticipated as much from you, X. It's that kind of rash thinking that allowed the Titans to outdo you last time isn't it? You're not alert enough. Not as sharp as you could be for all the potential and intellect you possess," the intruder said, watching X with minimal concern – no scratch that. Absolutely no concern what so ever – and continued.

"The Teen Titans are an obstacle that constantly threaten my plans, X. You are one of the few who out matched them, save for your…minor error in aiding them, you could have gotten away. Even so, you managed to evade them and escape. I will destroy the Titans and I believe you will help me." Slade leaned closer, close enough to make X extremely uncomfortable if not a bit creeped out. He grimaced and leaned his face back since this guy seemed to have no understanding of the words 'personal space'.

"So…" X gritted out between his teeth. "Basically you beat up little kids for a living?" Slade's eyes narrowed so naturally the thief went on. "I mean, seriously, that Robin kid can't be more than sixteen can he? I gotta say that's pretty pathetic way for a guy to spend his time …" Slade tightened his grip and choked out the thief's sarcasm.

"You possess a technique and style I find most valuable. If you're smart you'll see things my way and accept my offer."

"And if I don't?" X wanted to know, gasping.

Slade seemed to be smiling. "I'm very diplomatic, X. I'm offering you a chance to become my apprentice. It's an honor."

X grinned fiercely beneath the mask and shrugged gracelessly against the wall. "Really? I'm flattered."

X followed his banter with a speeding boot to the gut, driving his heel hard into the larger man's belly and pounding a most satisfying 'OOF!' from the man. Winded, he loosened his hold on X and the nimble martial artist instantly knifed his arm into the back of Slade's neck. But – to the younger man's horror – the killer didn't fall, only dropped to one knee and grunted. Opting for a better effect, the thief clenched his hands together and smashed both his arms down on the man's back with all the strength he could muster. A gratifying 'kclump' rewarded his exertion and the bigger man hit the floor with a heavy bang and a groan that came across more angry than injured.

Getawayfromthepsychopath!Getawayfromthepsychopath!Getawayfromthepsychopath! The reiterating chant dominated Red X's mind as he bounded out the window and into the suddenly swirling world of white confetti snow dancing through the merry Christmas cheerful city streets. Crouching on the creaky rail of the fire escape, X tapped his index and middle finger to the centre notch in his belt. A metallic whine cued the power of zynovium at work and the vibrato of the belt's weight urged him to escape. X cast one last look over his shoulder, expecting to see Slade sprawled on the floor or struggling to stand.

Instead a very large palm closed over the thief's startled face and quite literally grabbed his head.

"You're not going anywhere," Slade hissed and threw X hard into the bottom of the fire-escape, slamming the young man down with such force the whole structure shook and rocked. The thief crashed into the railing with a metallic bang, head rebounding off the metalwork and slumping against the handrail. He groaned and rubbed the back of his throbbing head, watching stars and weird little objects boogie around his field of vision. The little cha-cha dancing stars began to fade like a curtains pulling back to reveal a huge, iron shod boot speeding for his skull.

"Ahh!" X cried, seizing the bars behind him and shoving out from the railing, sliding smoothly across the icy grating. Slade's boot crashed into the metal grid just above his head between his arms. X quickly swept his leg across the bottom of the escape and knocked the larger man's one foot out from under him. Slade went down hard, break his fall with his elbow and landing…on top of X.

"OW! Get off'a me, you psychopath! Those are my ribs!" X snarled, punching Slade in the face. Unfortunately for him Slade's metallic black and bronze face mask seemed to be made of very real bronze because his knuckles instantly went numb. "OW! Sonnofa-" He didn't finish because Slade grabbed his upper arms in a crushing grip and hauled him upright. The next thing X knew Slade's previously mentioned metal mask crashed into the centre of his forehead and furthered his original concussion.

Darkness nearly took him then. But X always surprised himself and others so in dizzying struggle that lasted about three seconds he managed to claw his way back into the waking world just in time to feel Slade grabbing at his skull mask and attempting to yank it off his head.

Yeah…that wasn't to happen. X released a startled shout and immediately slammed his right hand into Slade's chest. Red light erupted from his fingers and scarlet lightening burst from the impact sensors built into the finger tips and palm. Slade roared in pain as low level voltage morphed his whole body into a living electric current, hot energy ripping through his frame in grueling waves. X planted his foot against the man's torso and vaulted off the criminal's sturdy frame, flipping back into the open air and snapping out of perception to vanish into the snow.

-t-h-i-e-f-

The snow fell hard across the modern metropolis of Jump City and not the gentle, Winter Wonderland stuff either. A mild but freak blizzard had blown into town and frosted the city in a sugary coating of frosting ice. For the last couple weeks it had steadily worsened until most people remained inside the warmth and safety of their homes, enjoying the imminent approach of Christmas. Now that Christmas Eve had finally arrives

X had finally stopped to take a breather and also to reflect on things like the holiday spirit…which he had none of right now unless hatred counted as Christmas cheer. But who could blame him? The last two weeks proceeding Christmas had been nothing short of torment for the larcenist. Exactly one week and six days ago, a blizzard probably would have pleased the thief. Snowfall meant an opportunity to pick the parking meters, rob closed museums etcetera, etcetera…

Not anymore. Not anymore. The rules had changed now and Red X no long possessed creature comforts like – oh say – a house, sleep, regularly supplied food, warmth had also become a much missed accessory. Slade cut him off from all that. X tried not to think about the last two weeks, forced himself to remain in the present despite all its unpleasant realities and discomforts. Discomforts like hunger, beginning signs of frostbite, fatigue, pulled muscles in both his shoulders and lower back, raw knuckles, and more bruises than he could count.

This was the thirteenth night of his hunting and he had yet to have his nightly encounter with The Psychopathic Stalker. After about three hours of running through freezing weather, sitting, crouched atop buildings and generally lying low, X had discovered that he really, really hated white Christmases.

In fact, he decided over all holidays he liked Independence Day best.

Why?

Because in July the temperature is bit higher than twenty freaking degrees! Huddled, hands tight around his upper arms, X, thief extraordinaire muttered and rubbed his numbed limbs furiously and marveled that no where within a five mile radius did a convenient sweater or scarf boutique stand closed for him to steal from. No…of course not. Every stupid, last minute shopper on the planet currently trafficked through the mall and shops in search of socks for little Jimmy and Aunt Stacy. Damn, procrastinating fools.

Stealing a jacket would have been a fantastic solution to his problem with the cold, but unfortunately the solution to his cold problem was directly prevented by his new and vaguely horrifying stalker problem. Whereas most people received gifts for Christmas, X was blessed with a creepy criminal mastermind bent on making him into his new 'apprentice' and shadowed him around every corner of the city.

Red figured he could have removed the suit and blended into the crowd for a couple hours. Luckily he realized Slade wanted him to do just that. After all, stalking a guy in a high-performance body suit, equipped with stylized weapons and speed enhancers tended to be a shade more difficult than hunting down a guy with a specific face attached to him and no weapons. He could not, under any circumstances allow Slade to see him without his mask; therefore, X – unable to enter any public facility in his bizarre get up – froze outside.

Death by hypothermia…that had to be the most pathetic way to go. Unpleasant too. The thief grumbled, hissing unsanitary things under his breath while he massaged his stiff, achy fingers and shook out his wrists. He'd never had this much trouble losing someone. Robin tailing him had been a trap, set to lure the Boy Wonder into SOTO labs as a decoy, but when he actually wanted to ditch someone – especially on his own turf – he usually succeeded. This new upset had caused a serious dent in X's confidence that only three hours of unsuccessful ditching attempts can do.

This Slade guy knew what he was doing, worse yet, he seemed to possess an inhuman drive to get what he wanted. Specifically, X. The criminal had caught up with him at least three times in the course of three hours the night previous and X came to realize the horror that his deteriorating physical condition was dragging his performance. Slade caught up with him once every hour that night. Once every hour. More than any other pursuer he'd ever had in his life.

That hunger vexed the unusually laidback burglar. He only stole because he wanted a challenge, an adrenaline fix and maybe some cash as a side-dish, but the freakish persistence and near obsession in Slade's eyes fell into a mindset beyond anything X could understand.

It kinda scared him; whether or not he'd choke on his own boots before admitting it. X shuddered at the thought of what Slade had in mind for him if he managed to catch him. That kind of fixation on anything could not be healthy. Maybe that's why he'd teased Robin about taking life to seriously? Somehow he doubted Slade would appreciate his wit.

The powdery snow groaned, and crunched beneath the soft soles of his shoes as the cat-burglar shifted his weight. Unperturbed by the ten story plunge into the empty neighborhood streets below him, X glanced out across the spanning lights of Jump city. He'd have to get moving again. He'd already sat here for roughly twenty minutes and far too long if he wanted to evade Slade's attentions…

Snow crunched behind him.

X spun and hurled three, razor sharp X-blades at the lone figure standing on the previously empty roof top. The figure dodged the attack and rose to his feet. Sure enough, half-way across the roof stood Slade, all six feet of body armor, and cold-blooded intent of him. For the fourth time that night he managed to simply 'appear' within twenty feet of the skull-faced bandit and the fact X had yet to figure out how he pulled it off pissed the hell out of him.

The younger criminal couldn't take much more of this. He was cold. He was wet. He was exhausted and to top it off the freak in a Halloween costume wouldn't just go away. To say he'd reached some type of limit, mental and/or physical seemed a gross understatement.

He leapt up thrust both hands out before him as if to shove the masked man off the roof through force of will. Red light burst from his palms in the form of lazar 'X's that created a soft whining noise in contrast to their violent flight through the air. They exploded in the snow, sending plumes of white confetti flurry and clouds of hissing steam into the air across the roof.

"STOP FOLLOWING ME!" he shouted, firing another volley into the cloud of snow. "I'm not going to be your apprentice! So get off my back, asshole!"

"I'm afraid that's impossible." The thief tensed at the low, mock-apologetic tone as a shadowy figure shifted inside the cloud of steam and vanished in ghost-like fluidity. "You're involved now. You won't escape."

X locked onto the sound of the voice and swung his arms around to aim at the shadowy niche of a roof-top generator. "INVOLVE THIS!"

The generator exploded and X leapt off the top of the building and into the alleyway below, slowing his free-fall by nimbly snatching at the apartment windowsill at the fifth floor. His shoulders rippled and tensed, sleek muscles coiling beneath the suit as he defied gravity's call using his bare hands. Releasing the sill, he dropped from one level to the next. Landing in the snow frosted alley, the drifts crunched under his feet as he spun and fell into a low crouch against the wall near a sharp corner, back braced against the bricks, tight to the building and its protective shadows. Perhaps Slade hadn't seen him drop during the explosion? Maybe…Hopefully…

"Stubborn," remarked a deep voice. X gasped as a freezing hand seized his right arm, taking him completely off guard, a fact which scared him more than the grip on his bicep. "But that will do you good as my pupil, X. The sooner you realize that the easier this will be for you."

The next thing X knew: a violent jerking twist and loud, sickening crack! followed by the most blinding pain he'd ever experienced. X screamed. He couldn't help it; like a knee-jerk reaction it just happened. The thief groaned, suddenly breathless, entire body turned fluttery and oddly hypersensitive, his natural reaction to sudden pain. He felt his mind fading in and out of touch with his senses, the sunken hollow at his shoulder, where the bone had simply popped from its socket. Suddenly, he couldn't really believe all this; everything seemed surreal and hazy with drifting mists of pain to keep him awake.

He was going into shock.

"You're tired, dear boy. Look at you. The first week I could only catch you every other night. Now I've caught up to you three times in a single evening," he purred, careful to keep his grip tight on X's injured shoulder.

Another thing X didn't like about this guy. He didn't just talk like a normal person; everything he said seemed like an attempt to hypnotize you verbally. Made his skin crawl. Slade seemed to sense X's drifting attention and twisted the burglar's arm to bring him back to earth.

X didn't have the breath to scream this time. Instead he moaned and hunched his upper body as if seeking to curl up in pain. Acid bolts of pain raped his nervous system with stabs of exquisite agony. He fancied he could hear tendons ripping under his skin as pain swamped his mind. He breath came in short, stuttering bursts, like a little kid trying to breathe while crying. Funny because he wasn't crying at all, but he still couldn't breathe.

Slade squeezed the thief's arm warningly. "Well? What's your explanation?"

"Y-you – won't let me get any – sleep," X pointed out. His breath came so hard the air before his lips steamed with every word.

The masked man leaned closer. At this point X didn't even care, he just wanted the bastard to get off him so the ligaments in his shoulder would stop tearing. Slade next word dripped with gentle, persuation"If I'm too much for you only say the word and I'll stop, X. Simply swear yourself to me and it will stop."

Like that's gonna happen… X thought sardonically.

"You know – perpetual stalking isn't – a good – moral booster," he replied. "Neither is pain. I think – I'll pass…"

Slade's cold steely eyes (or eye if you're into detail) laughed as X began to tremble visibly, his entire body spiraling into a shocked state of vulnerability. Hmm…everything seemed to be spinning. That was bad right? He usually didn't complain about little things like pain or fatigue but everything just…hurt. A lot and he wanted it to stop. Slade caught his chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping his face up so the two criminals were face to face.

The sight of that single, pitiless, grey eye inches from his own snapped X's focus back to earth.

"Shaking already?" murmured the man cruelly. "I thought you were more resilient than that, X. Perhaps you need my guidance more than I realized."

X ground his teeth and forced his arms to work past their pain. Muscles shrieking, he shoved the larger man back, forcing the pain of his arms from his brain. Then, just to show him how much he 'needed' the criminal's guidance he kicked the man in the gut. Slade grunted and X struck, cobra quick. Punching the pressure pad in his palm his favored weapon slid from its compact compartment and scratched a deep gouge in Slade's two-toned mask and nearly splitting the alloy diagonally.

The man hissed and leapt off the agile thief to clutch his mask, he only just managed to grab his face before the broken pieces tumbled off his features. Slade turned an arsenic laced look on his apprentice to-be and stood up. X quickly pulled his knees in and raised one arm in defense should his attacker…you know…attack. But he didn't. He only stood there, snow swirling around him, cold eyes making blizzard feel warm and comfy in comparison.

"You win for now. However, I'll be coming back to get you, dear boy. Until then, I'll give you the holiday to think it over." He smiled without ever showing his face. "Merry Christmas, X. Enjoy it."

Then he simply vanished.

Panting slightly, skin beneath his clothes soaked with perspiration, X shivered as the icy wind bit at his fatigued extremities, threatening to freeze him where he stood. Knowing he'd have a terrible cold by this time tomorrow, he only just managed to drag his battered body to its feet and stand straight. Leaning heavily against the wall, lifted his arms tiredly and retracted his, crisscross blade. He knew beneath his suit his ribs had turned several different shades of purple and blue. Lovely…

The thief glanced toward the empty space once occupied by Slade.

"How the hell does he do that?" grumbled the thief and massaged his shoulder.

X presently stood there, trying to come up with some brilliant plan to stop this new found attention before it killed him.

Literally…

'Face it, buddy. Slade is bigger than you. Stronger than you and he seems to have more experience tracking than you do in running,' said the cynical logic in his head. 'Basically you're screwed, my friend. You can't beat him alone. He wants it more than you. He wants to kidnap you more than you want to get away, however the hell that works. You can't win.'

"Thanks a lot…" Red X snorted. He gripped his disjointed arm, biting his lip until it threatened to slip. "What do you know anyway?"

Then he rammed the joint back into its socket and collapsed against the wall, blinded momentarily by the pain. The moment passed and the cat burglar managed to regain his equilibrium. And with that he pushed off the wall and made for the one place he never thought he'd willingly go.

-t-h-i-e-f-

Author's Note: Hmm…it didn't come out exactly like I wanted but than again writing tends to evolve so I'll leave it as is. Hope you liked it! If you have any suggestions just leave them in the review box. By the way, I don't own Teen Titans and if I did I wouldn't be writing about it on Fanfiction, I'd be giving you awesome episodes wouldn't I?