Well this is Beast Boy becoming a vegetarian. I have to applaud the writes on this detail. It is so cool that they would think would take that in to consideration. It gives much more depth to the character. Perhaps I am bias because I have been a vegetarian for nearly seven years. All I can say is that soy is the versatile food in the whole world! Yey for soy! Anyway, I really enjoy writing these stories and I hope those who read will enjoy them as well. And can I just say I'm so looking forward to the new Teen Titan's episodes. They look so god brilliant amazing! Ok so I do not own Teen Titans.


The cheetah raced through the tall grasses. The setting sun illuminated its figure, showing off its healthy, thick coat. Suddenly, it stopped its run, its ears twitching preemptively. Bring its body low to the ground, it peered through the long grass. A woman could be seen at the clearing, her face covered in worry. She shaded her eyes with her palm searching the arid landscape. Once she turned her back away from the predator, what could have been called a smile appeared across the cheetah's mouth. It maneuvered on its belly up to edge of the clearing. With its tail batting back and forth, it readied itself with its strong hind legs. The creature sprung with a glint in its jade eyes. Just as the woman turned back, she saw the creature springing at her. As she reached down to her belt for her gun, the animal morphed in to a child, flying through the air towards her. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her madly. She felt weak in her knees, and her arms left her belt and grasped her baby. He brought his head out from her chest and smiled at her with a toothy grin.

"What's for dinner?" She opened her mouth in astonishment. She didn't know whether to reprimand him or laugh at him. His child eyes sparkled at her. She stood there like a fish, her mouth opening and closing. This boy, her miracle child, never ceased to amaze her. To think she had almost lost him once frightened her, but to lose him again would devastate her. Everyday was a scrape with death for her boy. Because he constantly insisted on risky behavior for his fun. Even before he had fallen ill, he was well… a boy. Into everything. Much like his father. Now, with his incredible abilities he found new ways to play his pranks and scare a mother even more. She kissed his forehead, deciding to settle the matter later.

"Chicken, baby. Let's go inside." For a moment, she thought his smile flickered but perhaps it was only a trick from the fading light.

His legs dangled from the chair. He leaned himself over the edge of his seat trying to touch the floor. Someday he would be tall enough and his feet would touch with out even trying. He swayed his legs back and forth. His mother stood at the stove preparing their dinner. Pushing the plate around, his faced grimaced at the smell. He glanced at his mother and then back to the table. He eyed her as he smiled deviously. She hummed as she added the last bits of spices on the chicken. She grabbed a potholder and spatula. Carefully, she placed a breast on each plate. Instead of the chicken landing on the plate, it was set on the wooden table. She frowned and muttered to herself.

"I thought I put the dishes out." She looked at her son who shrugged his shoulders and continued to swing his feet back and forth. She shrugged and placed the pan with the chicken in it back on the stove and then opened the cupboard for another set of plates. She set each one between a fork and knife. Then, she turned back to serve the chicken.

"One. Two. Three." She said as she placed each piece on the white plates. She smiled and said, "Well dig in." Her son looked blankly back at her.

"What's wrong?" She asked trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.

"I don't have a fork." He said. With an eyebrow cocked, she turned her back to the boy, and her arm reached for the silverware door. Quickly, she whipped the utensils out and then whipped back around. Her son smiled at her as he carefully swung his feet back and forth. She eyed him and then put the silverware in their places. Fork on right, knife on the left. She smiled and then gestured at him to start eating. He picked up his fork and stabbed the chicken. She shook her head and then turned back to make some coffee. Her husband preferred coffee with his meals because it helped him stay awake. Just as she fished the grounds out of their container, she saw a tentacle reaching for a cupboard handle.

"GARFIELD!"

The tentacle froze midway to the cupboard. She turned around to find an octopus sitting in her son's seat holding six pieces of silverware clasped in each tentacle. The sea creature morphed back and the forks and knives fell to the ground. The boy gave his mother a sheepish grin as she wiped a hand down her face.

"What's going on in here?" A tall man stood against the door framed. He was looking at the ground, carefully studying the silverware on the floor.

"Are we eating dinner on the ground?"

The woman fumed. "Mark, control your son or you will never get your meal."

The man walked over to his son and playfully mussed with the boy's hair.

"Gar, give your mother a break, ok?" He looked over to his wife. "Marie, have a seat, and I will pick up this mess."

The woman complied and rested herself at the head of the table. Mark rested a fork in his son's hand and then his wife's. Next, he put knife in their free hands. Then he sat himself across from his son. Looking to his wife and then to the boy, he propped his silverware up and said, "Dig in folks." Marie sighed and began to cut her chicken. Mark smiled and did the same. Garfield hesitated. Instead, he tapped the fork lightly on the plate. Marie stopped chewing as she noticed the beat that filled the air.

"Garfield, eat your dinner, I'm not making anything else." He continued to beat on the plate. His mother rested her chin on her fists and looked her boy straight in the eyes.

"Sweetie, why aren't you eating? You've been acting funny ever since I told you we were having dinner."

Looking at his plate and then up to his mother he said, "Mommy, I can't eat this."

His mother's eyelashes fluttered. His father stopped chewing for a moment.

"Why not Gar? Looks good and tastes good."

"At least some one appreciates it." Marie muttered under her breath.

The boy raised his eyes to his mom and sighed. "It looks like a hunk of flesh mommy. It could be my flesh."

Marie raised an eyebrow and then looked down at her chicken. It sat placidly on the plate wrapped in smooth, glossy skin. She looked at her husband who shrugged and then over to where her son was. Only he wasn't there. Marie frowned with confusion until she saw a mouse scurrying up the leg of the table and then seating itself on her white plate. The mouse then proceeded to transform into a little chick next to the breast. It gave out a little peep and stared back at Marie very seriously. Then, it morphed back to her son and he asked her, "would you eat me, mommy?" Marie bit her lip.

"Oh, you have got to be joking." Then, she picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of the chicken.

She looked at Mark who smiled back at her as he placed his silverware down and pushed his plate away. The boy and man waited, staring at her as she held the food halfway to her mouth. She glanced down at her son, who was still sitting on her plate, and then at her husband. She opened her mouth a little wider very much aware of the pairs of eyes on her. The fork moved a little closer. Pause. The fork dropped to the plate and she sighed with defeat.

" I'll make us a salad."