Ch 2 pre script: I wrote this chapter in a good mood and it came out very lighthearted. Have fun with this one because next the story takes a turn for the serious that won't let up for quite a while.
Chapter 2: Blissfully Unaware
Titans Tower, Wedensday, 7:30 A.M.
Robin walked through the calm, cool halls of Titans Tower, admiring the early morning silence as he contemplated what a great thing it was to be a super hero. With a city as mysteriously prone to assaults by super-villains, aliens, and death-bots as Jump City tended to be, a hero team could get a sweet deal on everything from real-estate to pizza deliveries. The best part of all though, was that, not only did he and his friends get a spectacular set up, but they were really saving the city money on reconstruction costs and crime fighting, not to mention ransom deliveries. It made it so that helping people and saving lives was like an endless dream of spectacular battles, challenging mysteries, and the kind of leisure time with his friends (even between training and fighting crime, there was still plenty) that most guys his age could only wish for. Oh sure, the risks were disgusting and there were some serious stress issues (he had a mildly obsessive attitude toward crime fighting that sometimes killed the fun factor) but these paled in comparison to the rewards.
His pleasant reverie was shattered by the spectacular explosion of noise from the kitchen that was the near-daily breakfast brawl between Cyborg and Beast Boy.
"TOFU!" shouts the small green changeling, gripping onto their beaten up old frying pan with octopus tentacles. He had one around the pan and the other around the kitchen counter, trying his level best to wrench it away from the mechanical grip of his best friend/breakfast arch-nemesis Cyborg.
"EGGS!" shouts the half-man half-machine technological marvel, using his cybernetic arm's mechanical claw form to exert a spectacular gripping force on the relatively tiny cooking utensil.
"Friends, please desist!" insisted Starfire, the red-haired Tamaranean beauty that graced the team with both her startlingly refreshing alien naivete and kindness, as well as her powerful green starbolts. "I'm sure that there is some agreeable compromise between the consumption of real and substitute breakfast substances!"
"Forget it Star," broke in an exasperated Robin, "They can't even hear you when they get like this."
"Robin, why is it that their usually friendly nature transforms like a frightened plenthack during breakfast?"
"Star... just put it down to the vagrancy of friendship and leave it alone. That's the only way to understand moments like this," said Robin, having to raise his voice over the sound of dishes breaking and metal clanging against linoleum tiles.
With a sudden and resounding "BANG" the frying pan snapped apart halfway through its basin, sending the two that had been contesting its control flying to opposite sides of the common room. Beast Boy's aerial path landed him smack against the opposite wall, spread eagle and unconscious, where he promptly slid down and landed on an unfortunately placed cactus. "EEEAAH," came his squeal of pain, piercing everyone's ears just as spines pierced his rear. The path of his subsequent flailing sent him running forward until he was brought up sort by the kitchen table's edge hitting him in the stomach. He slid slowly off and onto his knees, then onto his side on the floor, stars in his eyes.
Cyborg meanwhile, who had merely fallen back with a thud into the corner formed by the counters, was laughing his head off at his friend's misfortunes. The huge and uncontrollable explosions of mirth shook the walls, and, unfortunately, the cabinets above him that had already been weakened by his impact beneath them. With the sound of wood buckling, the cabinet leaned forward, flung open, and delivered its payload of dishes directly to Cyborg's metal skull. Breaking one at a time in quick succession, it sounded like some odd percussion instrument going up its scale as each successively larger plate preceded the last in shattering on his cranium. When the last had fallen, Cyborg had a brief respite to see the stars circling his head before the pots began their decent. With a series of resounding clangs, each punctuated by Cy's cries of pain ("Bang, oww, Clang, ugg, Bongg, aRgGh, KABONG, whimper) the pots exhausted their potential energy onto his head as well. The coup de grace rolled out last, a mysteriously placed bowling ball ("So THAT'S where it was", thinks B.B. later on), wasting no time in clobbering the already pummeled Cyborg. With that last resounding impact (WHAM!) the cabinet lay empty, and Cyborg lay TKO'd.
Of course, from the start, Robin had also been laughing his ass off. Something about the surprised and essentially mild pain of others tends to have that effect (as opposed to real serious injuries), and every moment of Beast Boy and Cyborg's pain was cracking him up. Starfire was a bit more polite about it, her eye's widening immensely in shock at the initial accident, and at Robin's immediate reaction. Within moments of Beast Boy's shriek of pain, fitful giggles began to squeeze their way out, and by the time the bowling ball had knocked out Cyborg, neither could breath from the force of their laughter. Robin was actually rolling around on the ground as Starfire banged on a nearby table, smashing cracks into it with her alien strength. Finally though, concern overcame mirth and they went to check on their friends' health.
Robin reached Beast Boy first, and when his gentle shaking got only low moans of pain in response, he rolled the little green dude over and spied the one cactus prong that had managed to lodge in his butt. Pulling some needle-nose pliers from his ever-ready utility belt, he took the tough love approach and yanked the prong mercilessly from B.B.'s rear. With a "YIPE" of pure pained surprise, Beast Boy transformed into a long eared hound dog and began dragging his wounded bottom around on the ground as he yipped in agony.
Starfire meanwhile had determined that his metal plating had prevented serious injury to Cyborg's head, and tried to get him to regain consciousness.
"Friend Cyborg, do the lights remain on? Do the tiny people still reside in your head?" she asked with deep concern in her voice.
"Star, I think you mean 'Is anybody home?'" corrected Robin, admiring the indescribable cuteness of Starfire's trouble with idioms.
"Yes of course," she said, embarrassed in spite of herself. "Robin, I can not seem to rouse consciousness into friend Cyborg. What should we do?"
"I have a plan Star, just sit tight," responded Robin cryptically. "Beast Boy!"
"Whaaat?" complained the aching changeling, rubbing his sore tush.
"Get over here and take of your shoe off," was his unexplained request.
"Dude, what's up?" asked Beast Boy as he kicked off his left shoe and walked up behind the others.
"Give sleeping beauty here a dose of the tried and true 'smelling salts'" Robin said with a grin.
"Ohhh... Yes! Sweet revenge, mwuahhahaha!" cackled Beast Boy, as he slowly raised his greenly glowing sock toward Cyborg's unconscious from. One quick whiff was all it took.
"AHHHGGG! What is that FUNK!?" shouted the instantly alert mechanical man, water fairly shooting from his eyes as his nose began to bleed slightly.
"Just a little something to get you up, Cy," said Robin though teeth gritted against bursting laughter.
The hyjinx having come to a close, they were suddenly left with a huge mess in the kitchen and little ability to make anything, having lost most of their plates and pots to Cyborg's head. After a quick job of cleaning, reluctantly done but imposed implacably by Robin, they sat hungrily at the kitchen table.
"Looks like we're going to IHOB--and no bones about it from you two!" declared Robin forcefully, when it looked like the dynamic duo of breakfast disorder would try to complain.
"Oooh, the temple to high cholesterol early morning consumption! I love engaging in the breaking of fasts there!" declared Starfire as she nearly exploded with glee. The rest of the crew agreed as well. Except for one.
"I don't think so," came a rather unhappy sounding (but ultimately neutral) voice from the far side of the room, "There is no chance of me going out to eat in that madhouse."
"Too bad Raven," began Cyborg, "You snooze you lose, and you weren't here to help decide."
"My early morning meditation takes precedence over the slapstick act that you bunch had going on down here," came her stilted reply.
"Don't worry Raven, we can stop at that Chinese tea shop on the way," assured the ever tactful Boy Wonder. Obviously still reluctant, Raven acceded with a nod in the face of her friends' unified front. She decided that she could handle huge crowds and screaming children if she had a pot of her special leaf blend on hand.
"Good, lets go eat," said Robin. "Cy, get the car. The rest of us will meet you out front."
"All Right! I get to drive!" exclaimed cyborg, punching the air in victory. "You guys are gonna love the new improvements I made to the T-Car the other day. Now I can reach speeds that would make a fighter pilot puke!"
A chorus of groans went around the room as they all made their way out.
Later, at the International House Of Breakfast
"Are you sure you want to eat here Robin?" asked Cyborg as he drove slowly past the building. He was obviously referring to the line that always stretched far out the front door at this time of morning. Robin, sitting shotgun, considered the absurd wait that such a line would mean, then reluctantly confirmed everyone's fears.
"I tell you guys, their Southwest-Style Steak Mega-Omelet is worth the wait," he defended his decision.
"So is their tofu breakfast burrito!" chimed in Beast Boy from his position in the right back seat.
"And their cakes of the pan remind me of the obal'spas my mother used to make me on Tamaran!" added Starfire with enthusiasm, nearly hopping out of the back middle seat.
"I do like me some eggs," added Cyborg, drooling slightly. "It can be eggs benedict, scrambled eggs, fried eggs, poached eggs, egg sandwich, egg salad, omelets, y'know, just as long as it's eggs."
"I, for one, have no reason at all to want to go in there," said the despondent Raven, dreading the hectic restaurant more than most of the villains she'd faced. She sat next to Starfire, who's inane and cheerful chatter was marginally preferable to Beast Boy's pathetic and incessant attempts to make her laugh. She stared out the window and thought calm, tranquil thoughts to keep her anxiety from blowing the door off.
"Don't stress Raven, they'll let you brew your tea there, and you won't even notice the crowds after we're seated," Robin assured her. She mumbled something about "I don't stress" but took some small measure of comfort from his assurances anyway. He was the only person she'd ever met who could actually reassure her of anything.
In any case, the five parked, (Cyborg had to use the car's deployable hover jets to beat out three others for a space) disembarked, and got their names on the waiting list (Titans, party of five). Almost from the moment they walked in, every eye was on them, and it wasn't long before a cute girl walked up and asked for an autograph. Of course, once the first person had had the guts to do so (and Beast Boy, always a sucker for the ladies, had unthinkingly accepted) everyone else who had been restrained only by lingering doubts about weather it was "okay," advanced in a cavalcade of fan-dome.
"Plan 'rearguard'!" shouted Robin, reading the signs and initiating one of their standard fan-escape plans. At this signal, Robin and Beast Boy, by far the best at dealing with overexcited fans, distracted the crowd by shouting "Free autographs!" Meanwhile Starfire, who didn't really have the disposition to deal with the fanboys that were always accosting her, and Raven, who abhorred being the object of anyone's admiration, ducked out behind Cyborg's enormous stature while he slipped the lady running the list of names a twenty. Mr. Jackson, their reputation, and their obvious distress convinced her to move them to the top.
Using voice amplifiers, Cyborg then shouted, "I'M SORRY EVERYBODY, BUT IT'S TIME FOR US TO EAT NOW, SO WE'D APPRECIATE BEING LEFT ALONE!!" The force of his amplified voice was such that not even rabid fans could ignore it, and the people backed away in shell-shocked confusion as they gripped aching ears. The five were shown to a table, Robin and Beast Boy being carried as they tried to collect themselves after being ravaged by overzealous admirers.
Soon enough, the five were seated, served, and eating in peace. Robin, Starfire, Raven, Cyborg, and Beast Boy sat around a table (in that order) and managed to make the most of their morning. Aside from the flash of photographs and more than a few starring rubbernecks at other tables, the fans troubled them no more. They settled into conversation, joking, and the stuffing of faces, thoroughly enjoying, or in Raven's case, accepting the unavoidable reality of, their breakfast out. Then of course, as must always happen in Jump City, the Titans' happy breakfast was interrupted by something unexpected.
At the same time, outside in a junk-heap van
"Do you really think this is a good idea?" asked a nervous little fat man, as he pulled a pair of pantyhose over his head.
"Will you stop asking me that!" snapped an irate, tall, thin man as he pulled on gloves. The two obvious criminals were dressed in gray jumpsuits, like a janitor's, along with black gloves, boots, and pantyhose masks. The tall one was the leader, while the short fat one was a cowardly stooge. Both however, were armed to the teeth with extremely advanced looking weaponry.
"We didn't rob that weapons research facility to sit around and cower now did we?" continued the thin man. "With these weapons, not even the Teen Titans can stop us."
"I don't know Sharky," the fat one said again.
"You're right Bubba, you don't know. I know, and what I know is that WE WILL BE RICH! Now all you have to do is back me up with that laser cannon and try not to loose that little bit of nerve you have!"
Thoroughly cowed, Bubba sat in silence, but his pre-robbery nervousness prompted him to fill the silence with his stupidity.
"Sharky, how was it that you learned the combination to that weapons lockup door in the lab? Us janitors ain't told that kind of thing."
"If you must know," started Sharky, his voice dripping with annoyance, "it was fate."
"Fate?" Bubba questioned in awe.
"YES FATE!" Sharky snapped back, "It came to me in a dream, what could be more fateful than that?"
"Yeah... of course." Venturing one more thing, he asked his gambit silence filler. "And why was it that we're going to start our crime spree with this IHOB?"
"Because you ninny, I'm hungry, and I want to pick up a Southwest-Style Steak Mega-Omelet!" he shouted with understandable frustration. "Now shut up and follow my lead," he snapped as he stepped out the car.
Back inside the IHOB
"ALRIGHT, EVERYBODY FREEZE!" shouted a weasely little voice over the din of eating people.
"YEAH, THIS IS A STICK UP!" followed a stupid sounding voice in kind.
Everybody was shocked into silence for a moment, turning to look at the two pantyhose-wearing crooks that had had the bad luck to stick up this particular IHOB, this particular morning. The irony of the situation hit everyone at basically the same moment, and uproarious laughter was the only thing that greeted their loud threats.
"WHAT THE HELL IS SO DAMN FUNNY?" asked the skinny crook, with slightly less bravado and certainty than he had had a moment ago. Without bothering to stop laughing, the restaurant patrons all turned simultaneously toward the Titans, who were the only five in the joint not cracking up. They all had slightly annoyed and frighteningly serious expressions.
At the sight of them, Sharky's face cycled through three shades of blue under the pantyhose. Bubba sputtered "T,T,T,T,T, tuh, tuh, tuh..." then fainted dead away. Robin, more than a little irked, but trying to make the best of the moment, was the next to speak.
"Hey boys. I can't say I'm happy to see you, but then again, a little after-breakfast workout always settles my meal. I can't speak for my friends, of course, who I'm sure would rather finish in peace, so, skinny man, I'll give you the opportunity to wait outside for the police to arrive and give yourselves up peacefully." He pauses for effect, then "Or we can do this the hard way."
"FUCK YOU!" shouted Sharky, who was possessed with slightly more spiteful rage than blind fear at that moment. He immediately tried to train the laser cannon on the Titans, but he never really stood a chance.
Even as he was speaking to the thug, Robin had given Raven a small hand signal. Before the crook could lash out in fury then, she had muttered "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos" and enveloped the thin man's weapon in black telekinetic energy. Jerking the weapon from his hands, she used its butt to smack him senseless, and with a series of amusing crunching sounds and cries of pain, allowed him to join his friend on the floor with a thud.
There was a moment of silence after he hit the ground, a moment broken by a cavalcade of cheers. Every voice in the house was raised in praise for the town's superheroes, who had once again proven their worth without question. Seeing now as a good time to be finished, Robin signaled for the Titans to get a move on. As they rose to leave, the IHOB manager walked up and personally ripped their bill in half, to the great approval of all present. Frowning slightly, Robin knocked gently on Cyborg's metal plating. When the metal man leaned down, he whispered something in his ear. Frowning just a little, Cyborg discreetly slipped a twenty under his dirty plate for the waitress. (In case you didn't notice, he handle's the team's money.) That done, they made their exit, Robin making a pit stop to tie up the unconscious criminals, and Cyborg taking a moment to lock down their weapons' power cells so nobody got any ideas before the police arrived.
An unknown location
"That didn't go quite as planned," thought a slightly perturbed White, staring at the image of his first attack's abject failure. When he had manipulated the impressionable Mr. Sharky into stealing the weapons and attacking the IHOB, he hadn't expected much, but he had at least expected the two buffoons to get a shot off, maybe maim a bystander or two, SOMETHING. Instead he was faced with the creeping suspicion that these enemies might require a bit more of his attention than he had previously thought. Utterly unconcerned none the less, White considered his next course of action.
"There isn't any use in pulling my next punch," he plotted to himself, "I think I'll make the next one a crushing blow and finish this without any skirmishing. Quick killing strikes are always best in the end."
With a smile of contentment, he also considered the fact that his strike against that accursed IDP agent that had bested him before should be taking place about now. That couldn't fail to at least throw the bastard off his trail...
Preview: The Titans take a break for a while and my own character gets his time in the limelight. Titan fans don't despair, my story arcs will integrate all the characters soon, and then the real fun begins. Prepare for: Enter Skye.