Warning: Kitten Bashing
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Disclaimer: If I owned Teen Titans, there wouldn't be any rumors about no 6th season.

"Tomorrow is your birthday Raven." Malchior was perched next to Raven on top of the Trigon Industries 'T Tower' in the middle of the Jump City Bay. "Something positively splendid is going to happen."

"How do you know?" Raven was skeptical; nothing important had ever happened at her birthday before. And whenever Malchior said anything good was going to happen, you had to keep in mind that he spent his time thinking up new names to sell sugar as something else under.

"Call it a gut feeling, instinct if you will. But I believe I can guarantee that tomorrow will change your life forever."

"Sweet sixteen." Raven tossed a small pebble into the water below as Malchior put his arm around her.

"Come on Tara, you're 'living' with us anyway. You can't stay in a cave for the entire year!" Garfield and Tara were sitting next to each other on the beach with a clear view of the T Tower. "And you're making real progress with your powers."

"But I still don't have complete control. I'll come stay at your place when I can be sure I won't hurt someone."

"Okay." Looking for a change in subject, Garfield spotted the two figures on the T Tower. "I can't stand those stuck up 'Raven' and 'Malchior' characters. What do they have that no one else does? Except no sense of humor."

"Except for one of the world's largest companies in their collective pocket?"

"Oh yeah, and that. But have you ever seen her so much as crack a smile? Didn't think so. They're such big creeps."

"People could say that same thing about us." Tara's observation brought a moment of silence. "So did you see the new kid?"

"Yeah, but who is he?" Garfield paid little attention as he shook sand out of his shoes.

"It's a girl. Her name's Kori Anders."

Garfield looked up. "I thought it was that guy in the room you wanted to have lunch in."

"No, that was Malchior."

"You sure?" The green boy pulled a pile of smooth flat stones out of his pocket and tossed one at the water.

"Yes. No one else around here has a head of white hair, except the principal, and that guy definitely wasn't Mr. Wilson. Mal was probably just playing with contacts to hide his blue eyes."

Garfield was about to throw another rock when he looked at Tara, who was tossing one of the projectiles from hand to hand. "How do you know he has blue eyes? And why'd you call him 'Mal'?"

"Oh, all the girls know that. They've all had crushes on him at one point or another. And they like to talk about him too. Even that horrible cat girl."

"But not you."

"Nope." Tara executed a perfect throw, skipping her stone six times.

The horrible cat girl was sitting on a pink bed, in a pink room, wearing a pair of pink pajamas, staring at pictures framed in little pink frames. The pictures were of her perfect boy, in her perfect world. Everything was perfect and pink. Except for one thing.

"DADDY!"

After screeching the word, the horrible cat girl glanced at her clock and waited. Ten seconds later, a man in a gray business suit ran in, panting.

"You're late," the horrible cat girl declared. "But it can't be helped." She gave an exasperated sigh.

"What does daddy's little Kitten need?" The man, let's call him 'Daddy', was obviously nervous.

"I need your killer moths for a few days," said the horrible cat girl, but we'll call her Kitten.

"May I ask what for?" stammered 'Daddy'. "Dear, I really did have plans to take over the city tomorrow."

Kitten (the horrible cat girl) displayed a (horrible) smile, revealing (horribly) straight teeth that were the result of two (horrible) years of braces. She pulled a picture out of her little pink purse. "We have a new student who desperately needs a crash course in boys." Kitten's smile widened to the point where it barely fit onto her face. "In the spirit of friendship, I decided to help her out."

Victor poured over a set of blueprints.

He wasn't sure why he was doing it. In all rights, he still loathed anything related to his father. And yet, here he was, working on an artificial eye for some sort of billionaire. It was probably just some feeling of needing something to do.

Victor had an interesting love-hate relationship with machines. On one hand, they were one of the few things he knew that were well thought out and possessed genius simplicity behind them. On the other hand, they also had a cold inhumanity about them that Victor couldn't help but loathe.

Unthinkingly he flexed one hand and curled it into a fist. The maneuver made no sound, but mechanical hissing echoed through his head. That same noise constantly accompanied him every time he moved. It constantly reminded him of what he wasn't.

"Victor," a voice broke through Victor's thoughts. "I can finish the eye myself if you want to go out…"

"So why'd you ask me to help you, you obviously don't need any. And why don't I just go away and leave you alone to obsess over you work? That's what you do best, playing with machines and ruining people's lives," Victor yelled. "Or do you think that I didn't notice the stat-of-the-art deadly laser built into this thing? What do you think the chances are of whoever is buying this using that as a lethal weapon?"

"Victor, I…" the man stammered. "The buyer said he wanted a laser in his eye for self-defensive purposes. You know that we wouldn't sell a weapon like that to anyone that wasn't completely stable and had no intention of hurting anyone! He's just missing an…" The man's eyes widened and he stopped talking.

"Oh yeah, that's right, protect your customers, but not their victims!" Coming to a split-second decision, Victor grabbed the blueprints and held them in the air while touching the bottom with his right index finger. "You have backups, but all the recent work is right here. I can't let you build this," as he said this, a blue flame popped out of the end of the finger and began to eat away at the paper.

The burning material was allowed to drift to the concrete floor as it turned to ashes.

Victor walked out of the room.

Robin jumped through the principal's window. He was dressed in yellow, green, red, and black; not exactly stealthy colors, but he had yet to be caught. Yet. He had spent the last five minutes working the window open from the outside.

Checking to make sure there were no security cameras, Robin also examined the contents of the room. A large sword was hung over the door, but other than that, the room was fairly plain. A bookshelf had been set up against one wall, and on it was what the Boy Wonder had come for.

It took all of two seconds for the white powder to be on the chemical analysis device.

"Huh, sugar?" The exclamation was out of his mouth before it could be stopped. While he mentally scolded himself, the gears in Robin's mind had started to turn.

Why would Wilson get so upset over sugar?

Unless…

Half a second later, the same device was running another scan. This one was for magical traces.

The results were near instantaneous. The entire pack of sweets was covered in magic. The spell was fading, but it was still there.

Strange.

There weren't any magic users in the city. But whoever was doing this definitely didn't have society's best interests in their mind. They had to be taken down. And Robin would do it – by himself.

Batman could stick to Gotham. Jump City was his, and taking down the rouge magician would prove it.

With that thought in mind, Robin leapt down to the street below the window he had entered through.

In the gloom of Mr. Wilson's office, the widow curtains flapped around in the wind.