Bad News

by playboydojo

The Titans have some PR problems. But...bad news is good news, right?

Sunday, November , 2005

A/N: Continuity sucks. If something doesn't quite match up with what happened in the animated show, my answer is "That never happened," okay? Okay. My fics diverge from sometime after Season 2, cuz I've seen nothing beyond that, okay? Okay. Now, feel free to tell me what sucks and I'll try to correct it.

Disclaimer: No claim to Teen Titans or anything related to it. I wrote the story, but I really don't have claim over that either. At least lemme know when you pilfer it, okay? Okay.

Part One: The Day Time Talk Show

Some bossy, effete guy with a clipboard and a walky-talky thing kept coming back into the green room. Mostly it was to complain about the makeup--which even the staid Raven managed to be offended by; how many different ways was he going to call a girl ugly? But finally he came back to warn that they had "five minutes;" holding up an open palm and pointing at his watch like they couldn't tell what "five minutes" meant, or that maybe teenagers as dull and ugly as they could only communicate through inarticulate hand gestures. Like chimps or something.

Finally the nice lady who wore too much perfume told Raven she'd done all she could ("Sorry hon"), which was just slightly above calling Raven ugly. Showbiz sure could make you feel the warm and fuzzies.

"Does anybody else feel like they're just too gross for TV?" Cyborg wondered, after somebody complained that they couldn't "make all those colors work."

"My skin shall be doing the Break Out from these toxic flesh applications," Starfire complained. "And I fear That Man is still not satisfied with my coloring…"

"Chill, Titans," Robin soothed, totally relaxed. Like, y'know, he did this every day: today he's guest on the Movitch Show; tomorrow he's jumping up and down like an idiot on Oprah's sofa. Why did Robin always have to play it cool? Couldn't he ever say, man that guy really burns me too?

"Man, that guy really burns me too!" Beast Boy whined with Starfire. Yeah. Recently, Raven's begun worrying why she thinks of things that Beast Boy would say.

Maybe she's not reading enough. Too much TV. Are there additives in herbal tea?

"Four. Minutes." That Man came back and enunciated the two words separately. Seriously: did he think they couldn't grasp the fact that one minute after being told they had five minutes, they might just have four minutes?

"Dude, does he think--" Beast Boy began.

"You know what I suspect?" Raven interrupted. "We're just here for the makeovers."

Cy laughed; Star didn't get it. Beast Boy claimed to be thinking the same thing. Sometimes you just have to wake up one morning and realize that Beast Boy was right with his inane assumption that you and he were "on the same wavelength," and likely it was because God hated you.

"I had assumed we were invited to be asked questions," Starfire was still lost.

"We are," Robin assured. Mister Confident. Mister Nerves-of-Steel. Mister I'm-Not-Nervous-Cuz-I-Must-Have-Done-a-Million-Interviews-When-I-Lived-in-a-Secluded-Mansion-With-a-Bachelor-and-His-Butler-and-Please-Don't-Make-That-Insinuation-Despite-my-Outfit-Thank-You-Very-Much. And Raven was totally channeling Ethel Mertz just now.

"Movitch will ask some pretty softball questions," Robin went on. "Basically all we have to do is talk about how great people think we are."

"Three. Minutes. I swear to God you better be ready in three." That Man interrupted again.

"Oh my god, I'm so not ready." Rae snapped in an a raspy deadpan. "I just realized I totally forgot to wear pants." The lisping jerk made a face and disappeared again.

"Then some people will tell us how great they think we are," Robin went on. "One person will heckle you--it's how they get a soundbite. They either want you to say something really clever and mean and funny, or fall flat on your face so everybody else can say something really clever and mean and funny about you. So when some jerk gets in your face, try to…" Robin paused probing for the right way to say it. "Try to--just let Raven answer."

"Your confidence in me warms my heart," Beast Boy rolled his eyes. "Like a soft blanket…on a hot summer day…in hell."

"Two minutes; you have to come with me, now." He came in and said. They followed him to just off stage. Robin looked his team over once more. They weren't really nervous--letting a bunch of people fawn over you was decidedly less worrisome than, say, engaging in all-out combat with super-powered freaks, aliens, thieves, traitors, destroyer robots, monsters, or Slade and his Apprentice program which was infinitely worse than Martha Stewart's. And that was saying a lot, you know. As for Robin, he had no worries: his skin tone was normal for crying out loud.

The crowd started applauding and That Man waved his clipboard at them. He turned around and hurried away, presumably to go harass somebody else.

Robin walked out and the rest followed his lead. They smiled. They waved. Beast Boy hammed it up for the cameras. They sat down. The audience just cheered and cheered. Robin was right.

This was easy.

"So," Movitch began as the applause died down. "So, the mayor--Eldritch--he gave you the key to Jump City last week?"

More applause. Robin nodded. "Yes, 'commemoration for meritorious service' or something. Basically we've fought crime in Jump City for three years now."

"And saved the city over three hundred million in potential damage," Movitch finished. The crowd clapped some more. "Okay, so, my question is: how much money did you cost the city?"

"Huh?" Beast Boy had no clue what that meant.

Cyborg made a face. "Holy crap," he whispered under his breath. It probably wasn't a good idea to tell the viewers at home how much damage to the city they themselves had caused.

"Um…well…I don't-I-I don't quite…" Robin's composure completely fell apart. So nobody ever hit Boy Wonder with that question before? What happened to 'softball questions'? What was Movitch doing?

"The Brookings Institute estimates the true damage and your facilities to have cost the city nearly three quarters of a billion dollars." Movitch went on.

"Well…see…I don't know. I-I-I don't think I agree with that figure." Robin stammered. Was this where Raven was supposed to jump in with the smartass remark?

"Is this a protection racket?" Movitch grilled Robin. Poor kid went wide-eyed and looked to his teammates for help. Starfire stepped in.

"Yes." She nodded. "We do protection."

"Oh my god," Cyborg hid his face in his hands.

"Hey, there are some bad guys out there," Raven tried. "If we don't stop them, who will?"

"The police." Movitch snapped at the Titan. The studio audience cheered.

"The police are incompetent!" Beast Boy shouted.

"Oh my god," Cyborg repeated.

"Well, Beast Boy says he has no faith in the Bay's Finest and their sacrifice for the fine city of Jump." Movitch explained to his audience. "But it looks like you don't agree with that Cyborg."

Crap. Cyborg suddenly did not want to talk to this man. He did not want to be here. "Um…you'll have to excuse my little buddy--"

"Why should we excuse him; he's an anarchist!" More applause for Movitch.

"Hold on, that's not what he meant."

Movitch cut Cy off again. "Are you the spin doctor? Are you the propaganda machine for this cartel?"

Cyborg tried not to get sidetracked. "We work with police who are simply outmatched by overpowered--"

"Is that the party line? Why can't you answer my questions?"

"I used to work with Batman!" Robin cut in. Everybody ignored him.

Raven tried again. "Look, McCarthy , your little rant would have been amusing if there were anybody else in Jump City willing to get stomped on by every badass with Napoleonic ambition. But the fact is, there isn't anyone else in Jump willing to do what we do, your accusations are baseless, and I suggest you go back to telling skanks who their baby's daddy is."

"Calm down, Raven." Cy whispered.

"I was under the impression that we would get the makeover," Starfire wondered.

"Hold on, excuse me--you don't like my guests? Did you just call my guests 'skanks'?"

"Oh my god," Cyborg muttered under his breath.

It would definitely not be a good idea to insult the show. There was already the makings of a scandal. But backpeddling was out of the question. Best to answer an accusation with an accusation, Raven thought. "You have no respect for the sacrifice--"

"Dude, heck yeah, they're skanks!" BB cut in. "That one chick was on the show, like, three times, and brought the wrong guy three times!"

"I…you know, I-I don't think its fair to put a dollar amount on safety." Robin went on.

"Dude, I mean, has this chick slept with everybody? Am I the father? Is Slade? What?"

"Oh. My. God." Cy was on the verge of tears.

"Please: may we have the makeover now?" Starfire begged, near tears herself.

"So you're saying," Movitch said to Beast Boy. "That it's possible you have illegitimate children you're not taking care of?"

"What? Dude, I'm not even thirteen!"

"You should have thought about that before getting involved in a physical relationship with this woman." Movitich said amid applause.

"His point was that it can't possibly be him, you idiot." Raven explained.

"Are you willing to take a paternity test? Is he willing to take a DNA test and find out if he's the father of this child?" The crowd just kept cheering.

Beast Boy looked around, lost. "Just go with it," Cy sighed. "He'll destroy you if you don't."

"Okay, whatever, I'll take the test."

"And if it turns that you are the father of that child, are you going to step up to your responsibility and take care of it?"

Beast Boy made a face and looked like he was going to say something stupid. "One thing at a time, Movitch." Cy cut in. "Now let's get back to--"

"Hold on--no-wait…are you protecting him? You are an enabler!" Movitch shouted.

"Because--you know…we save lives Movitch. You…um…can't put a dollar amount on that." Robin wasn't even really in the conversation anymore.

Neither was Star, "I wish to go home!" She pouted.

"Yeah," BB agreed. "This show blows!"

"My god." Cyborg shook his head. He should have listened to his mother. He should have become an engineer like she said.

"What do you have against my freedom of speech!" Movitch ranted. "You hate cops, you hate government, and you hate the Constitution! You have impregnated legions of women from coast to coast, and now you have insulted millions of viewers for wanting to know the truth!"

"And-and-and really, I mean…you know, seven hundred, fifty million is not a lot of money." Robin was stuck like a broken record.

And somebody really needed to get Raven out of attack mode. "Beast Boy isn't against any of those things. He's against drooling morons who can't process the idea that we fight crime, bad guys cause property damage--and, y'know, kill people--and that's the end of the damn story. Maybe if you weren't so ready to investigate his seminal fluids, you'd realize what a raving idiot you are for thinking otherwise--"

"Uh, Rae--" Cy warned.

"--But that's all you're good for, isn't it? Yes your show blows, and yes, I'm insulting your viewers. This program would be a half hour of trash if only trash were so bad as this--"

"Seriously, Rae--" BB interrupted.

"--What you have here is a subliminal message to the thoughtless drones across the nation to de-evolve into lower lifeforms--"

"I-I mean…honestly, Movitch…what you're talking about…I, just--I just don't see…your allegations as relevant… basically." Robin's face was turning a bright red to match his outfit.

"--I await the day your show gets replaced by something far classier and highbrow, like Beavis and Butthead; something that at least aspires to elevate to the level of Cletus the slack-jawed yokel--"

"How-how do we turn her off?" Cyborg asked.

"And that's why Beast Boy fully supports the First Amendment. You're perfectly free to broadcast your opinion because you're merely publicizing what a damn fool you are."

Finally she stopped. The Titans held their breath, waiting for what Movitch had to say about all of that. "Okay." He said. "We have to go pay the bills, but when we come back, the audience gets to ask the Titans some questions. We'll be right back."

There was a little cursory applause. "And…we're out," one of the camera men announced.

Movitch seemed to not have noticed that Raven had called him, his show, and his fans stupid in so many(so, so many) words. "So, you guys fly in?"

They looked at each other, confused. "Um…yeah." Beast Boy finally said.

Movitch nodded, "Yeah. I love those little heated towels. Awesome." He walked away to go talk to That Man, who was gesticulating wildly.

"Um…what has just taken place?" asked Star.

Nobody knew.

"I think…" Beast Boy looked up at the lights, bewildered. "I think Movitch is Satan."

"We'll probably be getting calls from the press after this," Robin stated the oh, so, obvious. "AP, Reuters, Daily Planet, USA Today…"

"Yeah." Cy nodded. "Yeah, it'll be bad for a few days."

"I hear Justice League has a press secretary." BB added. "I think we need one of those."

"Thirty seconds!" somebody announced.

"Hey, new plan: Raven doesn't answer any questions." Robin said. Like he was captain of the debate team just then

"Dude, like you were captain of the debate team just then!" Beast Boy butted in.

"Right. I don't answer any questions either. Star, you take most of the questions, and try to make the subject about happy things."

"Yes!"

"If they ask you a question you don't understand, just talk about things you like to do."

Movitch came back and sat in his seat adjacent to the Titans. "I'm sorry, did you guys want some coffee or something?"

"I cannot have coffee, thank you." Starfire chirped. "It makes me pee."

…Still, that was better than anything they had said so far.

"Five, four, three…."

"Welcome back to Movitch Show. We're here with the Titans, a team of vigilantes that fight crime in Jump Bay. And now we're taking questions from the studio audience."

This guy was totally acting like he didn't just try to crucify them two minutes ago!

"Hi, I'm Deedee, from Houston. I'd just like to say to…um…that one," The lady with the too-big hair and spandex pointed at Raven. " You know, that young green man is never going to learn to be responsible if you're always making excuses for him, and cleaning up his messes."

Applause. Beast Boy looked like he was going to say something, but Robin caught his eye, and the kid just squirmed.

Movitch didn't let them off the hook. "You know Raven, Deedee has a point."

"Um…" What could she do? She wasn't supposed to answer questions, and there didn't seem to be a good way out of this one…

"Beast Boy has growing up to do," Starfire said so matter-of-fact. "He makes jokes that are not always funny, but he means well." That was pretty neutral;, they could live with that answer. Yes! Starfire was going to get them through this one!

"Donna from Chicago. And yeah, I'd just like to reiterate that: this guy is irresponsible, immature, he has like, twenty, kids--probably while cheating on you--and he doesn't have respect for women. Beast Boy is not the man for you, Raven!" More applause. Raven tried very hard not to wonder aloud what the hell these people were talking about.

Starfire shrugged, "Beast Boy and Raven are not dating…"

Cheering all around the studio.

"I'm Dave; Fort Lauderdale. I mean, come on, how can you just dump a guy without giving him a chance? Green Dude seems like an okay guy--fights crime; tells jokes. Right?" Scattered applause, but mostly boos and hisses. This was definitely the last TV appearance Raven would ever do.

"Is a reconciliation likely?" Movitch pressed. "Are you going to try to repair this broken relationship?"

Starfire nodded. "I suspect they shall be wed by this time next annual cycle."

"But is he going to take care of his kids?" Movitch asked.

"Raven would not allow otherwise. And, oh, there shall be so many babies!"

Raven shot a glare at Robin, who pretended not to notice. Beast Boy tried to act like he wasn't as embarrassed as he really was. Cyborg was playing a ROM of Super Mario Bros. inside his head.

"Okay," Movitch nodded. "Now, Dr. Pill, how likely is such a dysfunctional relationship as this one to become a lasting, healthy, partnership?"

"Not likely at all, Movitch," Dr. Pill replied from the other side of the Titans. Where the hell did he come from? "Beast Boy has already shown that he hates women. In fact, all men do. All men are evil, repugnant creatures, and a relationship is only going to work when you realize that women know everything, and men know nothing. It's how my marriage works, and I don't even miss my testicles."

"Yes," Movitch nodded emphatically. "When are we stupid, petulant men going to learn that we are always wrong, and women are always right!" A bunch of applause from the studio audience.

Starfire had no clue what they were talking about, now. Something about men? "Er…Robin is quite attractive! But I think he would prefer to keep his testicles."

"He would!" snapped Dr. Pill.

"Um…I'm Stephanie from Lincoln, Nebraska. If you guys are going to get married, I suggest you don't do it in June, or on Valentines' Day, because that's so played out."

Star beamed, "Raven's favorite month is December, and I think a winter wedding would be so beautiful!"

Stephanie smiled back, "Oh, and you should do it soon, before Raven starts to show. She's already looking a little pale…"

Raven looked ready to say something, Robin had to cut her off at the pass, "You know Movitch, we…well, we work hard. And we don't get very much of that money."

Movitch ignored him, "and that's all the time we have today. Dr. Pill, you think Beast Boy will be a good father?"

"Only if Raven can break his will," was Dr. Pill's answer. "And, son: you need to learn to have respect for our law enforcement."

"Thank you Dr. Pill, and thank you Titans. I'll see you next time."

"We're out."

"They got you up at the Marriott?" Movitch asked.

"Uh…the Sheraton." Robin answered.

"Nice. The cook there does something awesome with this pineapple duck thing. Thirty bucks a plate, but it's on us--you should try it before you go." And with that he walked away.

"Our names just took a serious beating." Robin mused. Duh.

Part Two: The Talking Heads

"Hey, welcome to the Bill O'Malley show," the kind-looking guy smiled and took Beast Boy's hand. "You're…Beast Boy? The shape-changing one, right?"

"Um…yeah."

"Hey, relax. We got the fax from Gabby," the producer--or whatever--smiled again. "O'Malley's gonna do the interview practically right off the press sheet."

Gabriel was the Titan's new press secretary. Cost a bundle (and the suddenly price-watching press had a field day with that as well). And she totally insisted that Beast Boy rescue the oddly mangled corpse that was his reputation. How he hated TV. But at least O'Malley was willing to play fair.

"Oh…one last thing." Nice Guy led BB to his seat. "Bill likes to…go off on tangents. He makes some…perplexing remarks sometimes. Just go with it, or let him talk. Disagree and he'll bully you."

"He's not going to rant on the Titan's though?"

"Nah, kid. This is the NBA. We don't play that way here."

Right. So long as Bill wasn't insinuating that BB was trying to overthrow the government and sow his green oats all over the country, he could say whatever the heck he wanted.

Robin sat in his seat while some young lady applied a powder puff to his forehead. "Thanks for having me on, today. We really need shelter from this press attack."

Larry Kingston, an old guy with big glasses, nodded. "You really got hit with a haymaker, son."

"No kidding." Somewhere behind the lights, somebody announced "thirty seconds." Larry Kingston was a cool guy. He'd just let Robin talk and explain his side of the story--how cool was that? Robin could do this. Damn that Movitch!

"Okay," O'Malley said. "So you're on this talkshow having just won an award for saving lives, when this trash-TV sleezeball attacks you."

"I wouldn't call him all that," BB laughed. "But Movitch was seriously out of line when he tried to suggest we should clip coupons on the defense of our civilians." Holy crap, dude! Clip coupons--Gabby was a genius!

O'Malley nodded "And you see this all the time from these disgusting bleeding-heart, blame-America-first, elitist snob liberals who want chaos in the streets under the pretense of so-called 'civil liberties.'"

"Um…" Beast Boy had no clue what that meant.

"You know, these liberals are always trying to break the structures of order in this country. All throughout history, these privileged pansies--who think they know what's best for the rest of us--have tried to destroy civilization with their 'butt sex,' and 'free love,' and-and-and killing babies."

Beast Boy blinked. After one question this guy starts ranting? There was no way he'd make it through this interview!

"And lemme tell you something: if these commies in Jump City don't want to be a part of this country, fine! I say we let the flying, laser-shooting criminals blow the whole city up!"

"Um…I'm from Jump City…" Beast Boy reminded, hoping to get O'Malley back on track.

"Let Omegasquid, or whoever, blow up that stupid giant 'T'! And you know what I'd say? I'd say, 'that's what you get, you stupid Christian-hating fanatics! That's what you get for always being on the side of terrorism!'"

…Well. This was certainly a bitch. If Beast Boy allowed that, what would the press about him look like tomorrow? On the other hand, he got whipped by low-level Movitch--he didn't want to know what it was like to get bullied by a big player. BB sighed. Life was, like, so not fair.

"And so the whole thing was taken out of context."

"Mmm." Larry Kingston nodded sleepily. He turned to the other side of the table to some old guy with big glasses. "Now, Professor Shomsky, you've claimed that the slander against the Titans is routine."

Noam Shomsky nodded, "Well, the trend towards vilifying community-supported protection is new; the media all falling in line behind this attack fits in perfectly with the Propaganda Model. Understand that these so-called 'vigilante' outfits are popular movements outside of State control--which is a problem for Washington. Superman responds to the mandates of the population of Metropolis, not necessarily the directives of the governing officials. And so in a time when the business elites are pushing for a shift towards a police state--under the auspices of 'security,' of course--the widespread transfer of responsibility from bureaucratic oversight to these independent parties is simply unacceptable. In the classic rhetoric of Washington, the former heroes and leaders become "thugs," and "anarchists;" running "protection rackets," despite the glaring fact that many now supported by burgeoning municipal budgets started out with next to no funding; and the media elites unquestioningly reiterate the damning message."

Larry nodded and turned back to Robin, "What did he just say?"

Bill O'Malley turned red. "You, kid, are a pinko commie; and you and your knocked up girlfriend should just go to Cuba or something. Go to Venezuela; hang out with your buddy Hugo Chavez."

"Who should be assassinated," added Pat Roberts. Where did he come from?

"I don't want to talk about this!" Beast Boy shouted. "I just wanted to talk about a bunch of idiots that like to twist my words and make me and my friends look bad!"

"How many times are you going to come onto somebody's show and call them stupid?" O'Malley shouted back.

"I wasn't--look, I just wanted to explain that we're doing good things for Jump City. People should stop calling us names!" God, this was a disaster. Gabby was going to murder him, which sucked because her salary was mostly coming out of his pocket.

"Do you see America?" the pundit shouted at the camera. "Do you see how they try to trick you? Lie to you? This liberal comes onto my show, calls me stupid, calls Movitch--a fine investigative talkshow host--all sorts of disgusting names. Then he tries to play the victim! People should stop calling him names! Did you see that America?"

"You should be assassinated," added Pat Roberts.

When were they going to commercial? "I--well, we--we do good things for Jump City." Beast Boy repeated, hoping to steer the conversation into something where he wouldn't get creamed.

"True or False: you accepted a team member into your group, the Titans--a name as big as your egos--who later took over the city, aiding the renown terrorist Slade?"

Damn.

"So, tell us more, Mr. Robin." Larry Kingston said, yawning.

Robin stifled his own yawn, "Um…you don't have any actual questions?"

"Nope."

"Nothing you're, um, interested in?"

"No, nothing."

"Um...How 'bout those Lakers?"

"I don't watch sports."

"Uh, there's a scandal about front advocacy groups..."

"I have no interest in politics whatsoever." Larry Kingston answered.

"Your group is a terrorist training camp! You're the guys handing out those pamphlets talking about what an 'honorable young man' Osama was!"

BB shrugged, "Wasn't that the CIA?"

"Again with the slandering of our country! You hate America! Just admit it! You. Hate. America."

"Dude, I seriously hate you!" He wished Raven were here. Maybe she could tell this guy off proper.

"Well, America, you heard it straight from the jackass's mouth: he hates America."

"That's not what I said, you, you..." Dang, he couldn't think of anything. "Jerk!"

"Commie!"

"Buttmunch!"

The Nice Guy producer rolled his eyes, watching the spectacle going on before him. "Intelligent discourse, ladies and gents. This is as good as it gets on Foxy News."

"Socialist, God-hating mongrel!"

Beast Boy didn't even know what that meant! How was he supposed to keep up? "Dorkwad!"

"Bolshevik!"

"Fartknocker!"

"Zzzzzzzzzzz?" Larry Kingston asked.

"Zzzzzzzzz." Robin answered.

"Zzzzzzzz…" The camera man commented.

"We're out!" somebody shouted. Finally. That was awful. Beast Boy turned to Bill to apologize. Maybe it was all about acting up for the camera or something, but Beast Boy felt pretty bad for getting worked up on the guy's show and wanted to make sure they were square. Maybe Bill might even get back to asking him those questions so he could just deliver the lines and go?

"Get the hell off my set. It'll be a good life if I never hear of you or your skag again!"

Well, so much for that. Beast Boy hightailed it out of there, then stopped just outside of the studio. He was mad. He couldn't let it end like that...

"Huh--wha?" Kingston jerked awake.

"Mmm?" Robin woke up as well.

"Eh?" The producer's head popped up. "Are we still on? Ah, screw it, I wanna get home." A bell sounded somewhere and the lights dimmed. Robin got up and stretched. Well, it was boring, but at least he was on air. People still watched Larry Kingston, right? It was still better than Charlie Prose!

"Mr. Shomsky," he walked up to the professor who was still rubbing at his eyes.

"Most invigorating discussing I've--'scuse me," the professor yawned. "I've had on this show yet."

Robin shook his hand. "Yeah...um...what did you say earlier?"

"I said 'don't trust the news'."

Robin blinked. "Oh, well--"

"Why didn't I phrase it that way?" Shomsky finished for him, wiping at his glasses (he didn't need them, but they sure made him look smart!) with a napkin. "I'm a professor. If I say things people understand, I get my credentials revoked."

"...So why say anything at all? Why do these appearances?"

Shomsky picked up his briefcase (nothing was in it, but if he didn't carry one, people didn't take him seriously) and started walking away. "The food is the best," he called behind him.

Robin shook Larry's hand, "Thanks for having me on."

Kingston was about to fall asleep again, "No problem. I assume your portrayal in the news will improve after today."

Part Three: The Reporters

Cyborg got up and stretched; a pleasant burn ran through his stiff muscles. He yawned and looked over at Starfire, still asleep. "Raven?" He called out.

"The kitchen," came the answer.

"I think Larry Kingston just went off. Totally benign, and even some really smart-sounding guy bashing the press.

"Oh yeah? What did he say?"

"Um…I'm not sure. But I think he totally dissed them."

Raven turned the dial on the gas stove, the starter clicked a few times before the front burner ignited into blue flame. "Weeell," she drawled, breaking the word into two syllables. "It wasn't Robin's interview that I was worried about."

The phone rang somewhere in the background. "Bill O'Malley doesn't come on until later. But don't worry. The guy's supreme-stupid. Beast Boy can handle him."

Yeah right. It would be far better to have Beast Boy just get clowned by somebody too smart for him. When two goofballs got together, things tended to degenerate into Neanderthal name-calling and skull-bashing. Poor Beast Boy would simply have to eat Bill O'Malley, seeing as how the kid wasn't clever enough for name-calling. She laughed at the image.

A sleepy Starfire yawned her way into the kitchen. "Raven, there is somebody calling for you."

Cy grinned stupidly. "A call. For Raven. Interesting." In his best imitation of Movitch, "Does Beast Boy know about your affairs, Raven?"

"So glad you have fun with that." Raven shoved her way past Cyborg. "It pleases me much like being burned alive does. Star can you put a pot on for me? Hello?"

"Hi, Joan Summers with En Vogue Magazine."

En Vogue? The hell? "You, um, have the wrong Raven, I think. You want the girl on Disney?"

The voice on the line was undaunted, "I saw your appearance on Movitch yesterday and--"

"I'm not taking any questions," Raven interrupted.

"--And I loved way you handled yourself," Joan continued. " It's so nice to see you didn't take any crap from Movitch."

Oh. That was different. How nice that somebody saw things her way. Robin was all like, Ooh you can't bitch slap people on their own show. Why did it take this innocuous fashion writer from some vapid dame mag to see--

"Um…So, like, I have a few questions?"

She really wasn't supposed to be talking to anybody. Gabrielle, their public relations consultant, hated Raven. She was a "bad personality" who would get the Titans in trouble with her attitude and yada-yada-ya. "Only a few, though."

"Great." Joan's smile came through the crackling phone reception. She was one of those types, Raven could tell. One of those people who can't help but smile, because smiling is fun, why don't you smile Raven? and you suspect that maybe--just maybe--if they stopped smiling they might just die. "So, everyone at En Vogue wants to know about Beast Boy."

So call him then, Raven though, but didn't interrupt.

"Is he, like, a good lover? Or is he selfish in bed?"

Oh god. She should have known better than to talk to someone from one of those insipid pop rags. "I really wouldn't know--"

"Over that quickly, huh? I know the type, believe me.

Wow, this got annoying fast. "Look, I think you have the wrong idea-- "

"Oh, I'm sorry! Is Beast Boy off-limits? It's okay, most people say their family's off-limits; the press can't talk about them. I understand, it's just that, you know, he's so charming, with that little snaggletooth, and mussed-up hair look--"

Beast Boy charming? Wow. Just when Raven thought her opinion of a tasteless monthly about the color of roots and boots and so-called reporters named Joan Summers with her ever-present smile invading Raven's space through the phone couldn't get any lower, Smiling Summers manages to surprise her. "I'm sorry, I, um, I don't think this was a good idea."

"Oh, no! I totally didn't mean it that way! Beast Boy is all yours. Really."

What did she do to deserve this? Was this about the time last winter when she walked past the Salvation Army Santa outside of the department store and ignored him? Oh, heavens, she was so sorry, if that's what this new torment was for.

A knock at his office door. "Clark Kent, from the Daily Planet," his secretary (Julia, or Juni, or something) let the reporter in and closed the door behind her.

"Kent, my boy," Karl Trove waved at the chair in front of his desk. "Have a seat."

Once a month for the past year they met like this. Wasn't a bad setup. As Chief of Staff to POTUS, Trove would occasionally us the Daily Planet to float test balloons of policy ideas to gauge public opinion. Kent gave him anonymity, and in exchange the reporter got preference for exclusives to almost any story.

Of course, the arrangement would work better if Kent would stop hounding him on this one issue. "So," the square-jawed muckraker (which mean "asshole" to Trove) adjusted his tie and flipped open his notebook. "Lex Luthor, owner of the largest private business in the country, creates and funds the Coalition for Better Ethics and Morality. C-BEAM, an astroturf organization for promoting free trade and protecting elite business interests, donated nearly--"

"Hey Kent," Trove interrupted. "Did you know that the boy that millionaire Bruce Wayne adopted years ago is a vigilante crime fighter originating from Gotham City?"

At first Kent looked totally confused. "Um….donated nearly thirty million--"

Trove kicked Clark Kent's legs under the desk. "Boy I Wonder why this kid left Gotham and moved to Jump, California."

He meant that kid, Robin, of course. Clark wasn't stupid. But why the heck were they talking about this? Kent shifted in his chair, staring at Trove. It wouldn't be at all difficult to find out the kid's name if Trove was telling him exactly what to look for--Google was supreme. "Um.." He shifted again. "How--what...Do ahem you happen to know about any other, erm, 'vigilante crime fighters'?"

Clark was sweating up a storm, loosening his tie, and squirming in his seat like the dumb kid in class when he got called on. What was his problem? "No," Karl Trove shrugged. "Why?"

"No reason."

"Is there a name for the baby yet?"

"No," Raven automatically answered. Stupid! "I mean--"

"Wedding date set?" Joan moved on to the next question.

"No," Raven made the exact same mistake, again. Dammit!

"I heard you like December?" The questions kept coming so fast! Raven couldn't stop and think, and this lipstick hack was making a fool of her.

"Yeah, I like December." Raven said slowly, hoping there wasn't some way for Joan to take her out of context.

"My roommate from Temple U. got married in January." Summers went on, seemingly out of nowhere. "The ceremony was in Philadelphia, and everything was all snowy and white and beautiful. Cold though."

What was this girl talking about? "That's nice…" Raven couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Is Beast Boy helping with the wedding plans?"

"There are no wedding plans." There! She made it clear. She had salvaged this sham interview by eliminating at least one awful rumor. Pats on the back for Raven.

"Haven't started on anything, huh?" the voice on the other end of the line sympathized. "I know: it's so much, and so overwhelming, that you don't know where to start. I know this girl who can--"

The phone beeped. Oh thank goodness! "Um, I'm sorry," Raven interrupted Joan Summers, Evil Smiley Chatterbox. "There's somebody on the other line. If, um, you have any other questions, you should really call my press secretary."

Well. Raven certainly learned her lesson. Maybe she should go on Larry Kingston so she could explain that she's not a teen mom-slash-star crossed lover. "Cyborg! The phone!" What? She wasn't going to take it!

Cy picked it up from his room. "Cyborg. S'up?"

"Hi. I'm John Michaels from Anarchist Monthly, and I like to--"

"We're not anarchists," Cyborg interrupted.

"…Well, Robin from your group was just on Larry Kingston--"

"Yes," Cy agreed. "And he amended the record and stated conclusively that we're not for the dissolution of peace and order.

"We're not for the dissolution of peace and order either, Mr. Cyborg."

"Oh, okay, that's great then. And call me Cyborg."

"We're just advocating dissolving the State."

"NO DISSOLVING THE GOVERNMENT!" Cyborg yelled into the phone. "We're not into dissolving things!"

"But Robin was talking to Professor Noam Shomsky just a few hours ago. Who--"

"Lemme guess…."

"--Is a renown anarchosyndicalist."

There was a pause as Cyborg let this gross tactical error sink in. "Well. You wouldn't happen to know what Shomsky said, would you?"

"Um…"

"Yeah. Well, for the record: we're not for dissolving things. We just fight bad guys."

"Yes," The voice on the phone agreed. "We fight bad guys, too. We just happen to think there's more of them inside the beltway than in the streets. Don't you?"

Cyborg hesitated. "Um…listen, I gotta go talk to my PR girl. So, um…bye."

Part Four: The Tabloids, Paparazzi, Entertainment News and Other Things People Normally Wouldn't Take Seriously

"You hit him!" Raven shouted. She couldn't believe this. Since when did Beast Boy go on TV and hit people? She thought back to a couple hours ago when she joked to herself that the interview would get Cro-Magnon and Beast Boy would turn into a dino and eat O'Malley. See, it was that kind of irony that ruined fun.

"Bill called you a skag!" BB explained. "And I was like, 'Dude, what's your problem?' And he said--"

"You hit him because he called me a name?" This was crazy. Raven herself was looking around for something to hit, and was quickly deciding on just smacking Beast Boy around. "I'm--I'm trying to convince people that we're not the next Sid and Nancy and you go--"

"I was defending your honor!"

"What are you, a Tennyson knight?"

"Awww," Starfire purred. "That is so sweet. I just knew you two were a match. Fubluu."

"Stop that!" Raven demanded. "Robin, tell her to stop that!"

Robin sighed. "Star, you're making Raven uncomfortable." Then, "….'Fubluu'?"

"I'm blessing the new couple," she explained. "So that Beast Boy will be passionate and romantic and Raven will be fertile."

Robin nodded, "Oh. That's nice."

"Robin!" Raven admonished.

"Fubluu." He responded.

"It wasn't that bad," Beast Boy shrugged. "Everybody could see he was making stuff up. I mean, the guys a loon."

"You hit a fifty year old man on national television! You're a loon!"

"Can't Gabby just have a press conference explaining that he started it?"

"That's so sixth grade!"

"Well, I'm twelve. And a half."

Raven deflated. "I'm going to go lay down. Tomorrow, we're going to have the Walker Brigade picketing around our Tower. Slowly."

"Fubluu!" Cyborg called out behind her. She made a disgusted noise and disappeared around the corner.

Robin sighed and picked up the remote, flicking through the channels. "Well, let's see the fallout."

"--and after declaring jihad against America, he stormed out of the studio, only to rush in and assault host Bill O'Malley minutes later."

"I punched him in the eye!" BB screamed at the TV. "That was not assault. You freaking idiot, I did not assault anybody!"

Cyborg knocked him in the head. "What did I tell you was the proper course of revenge?"

"Flaming poo bag…"

"Flaming poo bag. See what not listening does?"

Robin shook his head sadly and changed the channel.

"--spoke with leading anarchist Noam Shomsky about…well about something." Whoops! Robin went back to the channel that was playing the same B-roll clip of BB clobbering O'Malley again.

"Hey, wait." Cy interrupted his lecture on the health benefits of non-violent wrath. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

"No, he said something about some guy saying something about something." BB insisted.

"On Tameran," Starfire ignored the two Titans saying something about the news anchor who said something about some guy saying something about something. "The flaming pu'bag is a serious matter. It is a challenge to a bout of eye-poking."

"Go back, go back," Cyborg insisted. He snatched the remote from Robin and changed the channel.

"--And then he--Robin, that is--he went on to call the news media a pack of liars who took his inflammatory rhetoric out of context, while a fellow gang member beat fifty year old Foxy News host, Bill O'Malley, to within an inch of his life. Evil Satanist news groups with sympathetic associations to terrorist cells have portrayed the Teen Titans as some sort of squad of superheroes that protect the citizens of Jump. More on their propaganda later."

"This cannot be happening!" Beast Boy wailed.

The report went on: "The latest Gallup poll conducted in Jump City shows that the performance rating of the Titans has plummeted to twelve percent. California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger says this shows that the Titans are 'out of touch,' 'need to re-evaluate their priorities,' and that he 'wouldn't want numbers like that'."

"Damn," Cy remarked. "The Governator is making fun of our polling numbers?"

Intermission: There's no such thing as bad publicity. Almost.

Not wanting to see any more, he changed the channel.

"But the latest buzz, is about bad boy Beast Boy, with his dangerous good looks and even more dangerous attitude. He's a rebel within his own group, and isn't above showing anybody his displeasure. Maybe that's why ladies seem to currently find him 'sexiest man alive' to the tune of eighty-three percent. California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger remarked that he 'wouldn't mind numbers like that.'"

"Beast Boy, sexier than James Marsters?" Starfire scoffed. "Nyek! It is impossible!"

"Dude, chicks dig me?" Beast Boy hopped onto the table and started dancing. "I should totally go hit another old dude."

"Next, on Entertaining Tonight: Miniskirts--how short is too short? We'll tell you all about it while showing you revealing pictures of mini-queen Starfire."

"Look Robin!" Starfire laughed. "In that photo--you can see that young lady's panties!" She stopped and turned an amusing shade of red. So did Robin, but unlike Star he didn't stop staring at the TV.

Cyborg coughed. "So…um...maybe a little less kicking? And flying? Maybe...a little more...wearing pants?"

Starfire started crying.

Meanwhile, a campaign commercial came on showing a picture of Cyborg with a mask Photoshopped around his eyes. "Law enforcement vigilante Cyborg claims he doesn't have a secret identity. He tells you he doesn't wear a mask. But is that really true? What's that mechanical suit really for, Cyborg? Why can't we trust you? Why won't you answer our questions? What are your trying to hide?

"If you want somebody you can trust for City Council, vote for Gizmo. He doesn't wear a mask. He has nothing to hide. Paid for by Coalition for Better Ethics and Morality."

The next day the Titans had planned on talking to this consultant who wasn't helping a damn bit, but they got a little sidetracked when a few things arrived that morning.

"They outed me?" Robin's shock couldn't be contained as he stared at the newspaper.

"Your name is Dick?" Cyborg's shock couldn't be contained as he stared at the newspaper.

"And they're claiming Beast Boy murdered my parents!" Robin shouted.

"And mine!" Cyborg added.

"And my popularity just keeps soaring!" BB added.

"At least we're no longer being called communists." Raven shrugged. "An improvement from yesterday."

"Raven!" Starfire announced, holding a package. "Your issue of En Vogue has arrived! I love this magazine!" She would.

"I didn't order any En Vogue!" Raven protested. Starfire ignored her and ripped open the package and pulled out the glossy publication.

Star pleaded, "can I do the quiz? Please Raven?" Rae shrugged. What did she care?

Sitting down to go through mindless questions about lip gloss and kittens, or something, Star frowned across the table, "Beast Boy, did you kill my parents?"

"Uh...no?"

"Okay." Back to the magazine.

Robin continued to read the article. "I gotta have a chat with this Clark Kent guy."

"Want me to rough him up?" Beast Boy offered.

"No I just want to know where he got this."

"I can beat it out of him."

"Beast Boy, you knocked down a senior citizen, you're not Wolverine. Don't let this current infatuation girls seem to have for you go to your head." Robin turned to explain to Raven, "Beast Boy was voted 'sexiest man alive' by a huge margin."

"Cuz I punched O'Malley." He couldn't get the grin off his face.

"No, it's because your cute: with the tooth and the hair," Raven explained. Robin and BB stared at her silently. "What? No! I-that's what I was told. By Joan...Oh, crap! Star give me that!"

She snatched the magazine from Starfire. "There's an article about you in it!" Star exclaimed belatedly. No kidding. She flipped through it, expecting the worst.

"How can he be voted sexiest man alive?" Cyborg wondered. "He's twelve. And a half."

"Is it bad, Raven?" Robin asked. "Everybody's getting bad press, except Beast Boy."

"Cyborg's out of the news cycle." BB pointed out.

"I've got six offers to guest on leftist radio shows, one interview, and Zee Magazine wants me to write an article about how Washington is trying to shut us down. Movitch calls you an anarchist, but they all want to talk to me. I've turned it all down so far, but Pat Roberts says I should be assassinated; and I'm getting creamed in a City Council race I'm not running in."

"I do not get bad press," Starfire shrugged.

"Star," Robin blushed. "They showed your underwear on TV."

"Yes, but now everyone is wearing a skirt like mine! En Vogue calls me a setter of trends!"

Now it dawned on Cyborg, "Ahh.. That's why Ann Coulter was dressed like that this morning! Boy did that perk up my day!"

Robin made a disgusted sound. "You two are so lucky! Even Cyborg has it pretty easy!"

Beast Boy frowned, "You make it seem like I didn't have to work for my good luck. I had to hit an old dude! That ain't easy!"

"Because--what?--he hit back?"

BB stuck his tongue out at Robin, "Somebody back me up here!"

Cyborg shrugged, "What? You can't hit him?"

Raven giggled. "It says James Marsters thinks I'm cute." That was always good news. Then she made this fluttery kind of sigh. What? She was a girl, too!

Part Four-Point-Five: At the Newsstand

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!" Robin wailed, staring at the tabloid in horror.

Cyborg shrugged and leaned against the newsstand, "Well, that rumor's been around for ages. I can't believe you're just now hearing about it."

"It was the boy-shorts," Beast Boy agreed, laughing. "Remember the boy-shorts, Cy?"

"THAT WASN'T ME! THAT WAS THE OTHER ROBIN!"

Raven sighed, and pulled out money (from where?) to pay for a copy En Vogue to replace the one Star tore apart and pinned all over her wall, "Calm down. Seriously."

"CALM DOWN? CALM DOWN? HOW CAN I CALM DOWN WHEN--" Robin finally realized he was yelling and lowered his voice, "when they've got me on the front page of the Local Enquirer in my swimming trunks. It was a normal cruise!"

Raven snorted, in a good mood since reading the article this morning, "I'm not the one you need to convince."

"Whoa, check out Muscle Mag. Think I could look like this someday?" BB asked Cy

"It is a shame you do not like girls, Robin." Starfire pouted. "You do not know this, but I had hoped we might couple someday."

"I DO LIKE--I do like girls!" Robin yelled, making a scene of himself on the street. "I'm all with the girl-liking!"

"'Monster Abs: Twenty Minutes a Day' ," Beast Boy read aloud. "I could so do that."

"You should work your arms first," Raven suggested. "Better for the pummeling of old people."

Cyborg was flipping through the latest Person Magazine, "Hey, check this: 'The Breakup of Brad and Angie--Close Sources Blame Beast Boy'"

"Jolie have a wandering eye?" Beast Boy grinned. He was thoroughly enjoying his new sexy status.

"Ha. It's pity Beast Boy. She's always adopting pathetic creatures such as yourself," Raven sniped. "Twelve dollars for En Vogue! There isn't even anything in here! 'Cept me."

Starfire's face lit up. "Oh, did I tell you? I'm going to be on the cover of Maxum!"

"This isn't fair!" Robin whined.

Part Five: The Press Conference

Starfire took a peek around the curtain.

The reporters were starting to take their assigned seats; the camera crews were setting up. Gabby was nowhere to be found (as usual), but she'd left explicit instructions. Call on Lois Lane first; she'll want to talk about the City Council race. Avoid Greg Palast, because he's mean. Avoid NYT and LA Times. Call on Washington Post; call on San Jose Mercury, call on Entertaining Tonight, call on Generation Why, Person Magazine, and Teen Titan Fan Club News (they came all the way from Topeka!). Publicly apologize to Bill O'Malley. Then insult Bill O'Malley. At the end, Robin can announce he's so not gay. Oh, and turn down any questions using the words, "communist," "socialist," "anarchist," "Bolshevik," "Menshevik," "Party," "Marx," "Bakunin," "Democrat," "Angelina Jolie," and a whole lot of others. Raven still doesn't get to answer any questions.

Beast Boy was still clutching himself. "Ow..."

"Maybe you did it wrong?" Raven suggested.

"No," he answered. "I think it's just because I've never used abs before." He tried to straighten up and act like it was no big deal. "It's a good kind of burn. No pain, no gain."

"It's not a good kind of burn when you say 'ow'," she pointed out.

"Is my mask on straight?" Robin checked in the mirror, then looked to Cyborg for approval.

"How should I know, man? I don't wear a mask. You trynna say I wear a mask?"

Robin blinked. "Um, no?"

Raven continued to admonish Beast Boy, "Seriously, you could have pulled something. You can't go at it like you're expecting to look like Superman tomorrow. You have to work your way up."

"Cuz I don't wear masks, man. I have nothing to hide!" Cyborg insisted.

Beast Boy shrugged, still holding his guts, "Of course I'm not Superman: he doesn't have to worry about maintaining sex-symbol status."

"Will you calm down," Robin demanded. "You're not even running for Council."

Cyborg folding his arms over his chest and pouted silently.

"Nobody even cares about your abs," Raven continued. "It's those doe eyes and that mischievous smile. Or so Joan says."

Robin nodded, "Okay Titans, quick review: Beast Boy's not seeing Angelina,"

"Actually," BB interrupted, "We can't mention her, or we'll get sued."

Robin continued, "--James Marsters is cute--"

"Actually," Starfire said, " Hot. He is quite beautiful, really. My womb is reserved for him now that you are not with the liking of girls."

Robin continued, "--I'm not gay--"

"Actually," Raven brought up, "If you insist on bringing that up, maybe not so much with you talking about Marsters being cute."

Robin continued, "--Raven and Beast Boy still claim they aren't in any way a couple--"

"Actually," Gabby butt in as she did that always-in-a-hurry power walk consultants do through the room. "Fubluu, you two." Raven shot her a look.

For the love of spin, would they let him finish? Robin continued, "--and we're not anarchists."

"Actually," Cyborg started, then trailed off. For a minute, nobody said anything.

"What?" Robin finally asked.

"Nothing. Nothing."

Beast Boy blinked. "Dude. You're...kidding."

Cyborg hesitated, "You, uh, you really trust that the people who run the country have your best interests at heart?"

"OH MY GOD!" Robin threw up his hands. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

"This doesn't change anything," Cy shrugged. "No need to wig over--"

Robin wigged anyway, "NO NEED TO--OMIGOD--NO NEED TO WIG? CYBORG, IT'S KINDA HARD TO LOOK SERIOUS WHEN ONE OF MY OWN TEAMMATES IS THROWING BOMBS IN HAYMARKET SQUARE!"

"It's kina hard to look serious when one of my own teammates is above the fold in his boxer shorts!" Cyborg shot back.

Starfire didn't know what they were discussing anymore. "No one has yet commented on my pictorial." She was not in boxer shorts, but there was one photo of her in her underwear. Did that count?

Nobody heard her over Robin wigging out. "WHAT? MAYBE WE SHOULD JUST GO OUT THERE AN-AN-AND ANNOUNCE THAT NOT-HIDING-BEHIND-A-MASK CYBORG WILL NOW BE TOSSING MOLOTOV COCKTAILS FROM HIGH ATOP TITAN TOWER?"

The two continued to argue. Beast Boy smirked and turned to Raven, "I don't think we need to announce anything, by the way. I'm pretty sure the Lois Lane can hear them."

Raven smiled back, and bumped him with her hip. "How's your stomach?"

"Ow. You're mean."

She couldn't stop smiling. "...You're cute."

"Cute as in you'll-laugh-at-my-jokes cute, or just the plain old you-want-to-have-my-babies cute?" His eyebrows bounced up and down in a suggestive leer.

She couldn't help but laugh with him.

FINIS

A/N: Fubluu, you two.