There were six of them.
Dressed in black coats and masks, armed with semi-automatics and no doubt hoping to grab the money, jump into a getaway car, and be long gone before either the Titan's or the police could intercept them.
Today was not their lucky day.
Cyborg's metallic fist shattered the barricaded bank doors and sent them flying across the room. Behind their desks, the bank tellers and employees, already ducked down and hidden from the commotion of a robbery, hid further from the sudden commotion. The robbers, surprised and alarmed, and already on-edge with the thoughts of getting caught, responded predictably.
They opened fire.
The Mechanized Man just kept walking, though he did bother to raise his right hand and shield the still-human side of his face from their bullets. That part of him could still be damaged… and not replaced. The rest, even if suffering the most terrible of damage, could be fixed or replaced. But that came from fighting supervillains. The semi-automatics employed by the robbers were pelting him with tiny bullets, and he barely felt a thing as they bounced off his titanium steel skin. Kinda tickled, almost.
Aware that while he was impervious to harm, ricochet could cause injury of worse to any of the innocent bystanders. Or the robbers might do something stupid, seeing their "shoot-until-it's-dead" ploy wasn't working. So he needed to end this quickly.
Cyborg reared back his hand and dropped to one knee, slamming his fist down hard against the ground and forming a small earthquake, letting it rip across the floor and knock the robbers clean off their feet. Most hit the ground or the wall and were knocked instantly unconscious. Cyborg took the weapons from those only dazed, and crushed them in his hands as if they were made of cardboard.
One of the robbers pulled out a small handgun from the back of his jeans and emptied the clip trying to blow Cyborg away. He didn't even make a dent as Cyborg came towards him with the relentless, single-minded purpose of a machine. He reached out and crushed the barrel between his forefinger and thumb.
"You guys give up… right?"
A shrill screech jolted Cyborg out of his cool-guy-victorious mode and snapped his head up. Another one of the robbers, previously unnoticed behind a nearby desk, had grabbed up a sack of cash and was running towards the exit. Cyborg, a good thirty feet away, wouldn't catch him in time.
Plus, if he left these guys, they'd run for it too.
Damnit, he thought. He needed back-up.
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Fortunately, back-up was a lot closer, it seemed, than Titan's Tower or the police station.
As the hoodlum made his way out the bank doors and into the alleyway, he suddenly found his path obstructed by a figure hidden in the shadows. He came skidding to a halt, money in one hand, gun in the other.
"Hey… get the hell out of my way!"
The figure did not reply, and the robber suddenly became afraid. Was it one of the Titans? That Raven girl was certainly scary enough. And this figure, whoever it was, was hidden by the shadows, but an outline was visible, and it was definitely feminine. No guy had curves like that.
"Listen lady, love to stay and chat, but I gotta bail, so kindly get the hell out of my way," he said, making his way forward, intent to shove her aside if she continued to get in his way, whoever she was.
The next thing he knew, he was lying flat on the ground with at least one loose tooth and a world full of hurt compressed down and spread across his face.
"I suggest you stay down," said the strange woman. "I do not wish to harm you further."
The robber evidently had other ideas, as his handgun hand shot up and, after identifying her as a female dog, he opened fire. Fortunately, he missed. She'd dodged aside. A swift and well-placed kick knocked the weapon clean out of his hands and then the same leg came down atop of him, right into his stomach, doubling him over in pain. Another quick punch came seemingly out of nowhere, and he slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Cyborg was just coming up to the mouth of the alley on the one-in-a-million chance he could track down and catch-up to the robber, when the would-be escapee was tossed out of the alleyway to land at his feet. His gun followed shortly afterwards.
"What the…?"
And then she emerged from the shadows, with barely a lock of hair out of place or a bead of sweat on her despite her exertions. "Your land has a very strange money," remarked Sarasim, holding up a handful of silver dollars before slipping them back into the bag and snapping it shut.
Damn. He knew Sarasim could fight… but…
Just damn.
By now a small crowd had gathered around the victorious Cyborg and Sarasim, many of whom were quietly nudging their neighbor and trading rumors and questions about the Titan's companion.
"Who's that with Cyborg?"
"Damn is she hot."
"Did she really stop that crook all by herself?"
"Why's she wearing a toga?"
"Is she a new Titan?"
Painfully aware of the public's eye on them, Cyborg turned back to Sarasim, who was equally aware of the curious eyes being cast her way. It made her feel somewhat self-conscious. Realizing she was still holding onto the stolen goods, and assuming that was the reason they gawked at her, she handed them back to Cyborg, who accept it numbly.
"I… uh… thank you?" said Cyborg, after a moment's careful thought. Seemed his vocabulary processor and his swift tongue were both malfunctioning at the moment.
"Regardless of my time… or place… I am a warrior still, Cyborg," she said, hands on her hips defiantly. "I will not allow evil to take place in my home. And your home is now mine."
"Wow, she's so cool."
"Did she say she was out of time?"
"That explains the strange sense of fashion."
"Wonder what her powers are?"
"Awesome."
"She must be a Titan!"
Something in that last statement clicked in Cyborg's brain. Literally. An idea had sprung forth, and it seemed at first ludicrous… and then he wondered what the alternative was. If there was one. And then the idea, fully formed, unfolded in his mind, going off in myriad directions, and he realized at once it was a brilliant plan. It would start back at Titan's Tower.
But for now, Cyborg and Sarasim climbed back into the T-Car and continued on their way, leaving the crowd behind them. They still had a trip to the pizza place to finish. He stored the idea away in the back of his mind.
If there was one food Cyborg loved, apart from waffles, it was pizza. Thus, honor required, nay demanded, that he show Sarasim what it was like.
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Fortunately, they'd managed to avoid too much off a following by the time they stopped off at the pizza place. The owner gave Sarasim a cursory glance, but Cyborg was fairly sure that was because she was a pretty young lady, not because of her clothes or mannerisms. After all, he saw and heard far stranger when Starfire placed her orders.
The two of them found their way outside. The owner, in a stroke of creative genius, had designed the place to resemble from the sky an actual slice of pizza, the two intersecting roads made for a V shape in the building's design, and the roof had been opened up for those wanting to eat outside. The roof was painting a yellow-gold not unlike cheese, and the circular tables and umbrellas above them were the red of pepperoni slices. It was a popular hangout place for the youth of Jump City.
Cyborg and Sarasim had grabbed the semi-secluded table at the very tip of the restaurant, giving them a fair amount of privacy from the other tables and the passer-by below on the streets.
No surprise, pizza was an instant hit with Sarasim. She said she'd never tasted anything so enjoyable. Neither had Cyborg, for that matter. The pizzeria had outdone itself today.
"Truly, this is a wonderful world you live in," remarked Sarasim as she finished her meal, sucking lightly on the straw of her soda. Cyborg had shown her how. "Yet… I see it also a dangerous one," she added thoughtfully.
Cyborg knew instantly she referred to the bank robbers, and nodded his head.
"For everything you make that is wondrous, you make something that is dangerous…" she said thoughtfully, gazing out at the city. Only a day she'd been here and already she seemed to view it with a less naïve expression.
"Sometimes… sometimes those things are one and the same," remarked Cyborg, equally thoughtful. He couldn't help but recall the time that his own technology had nearly been used to destroy the city. "Just depend on who is using it."
"Good people and bad people… like Krall," she said.
"Yeah. Guess we're really not that different at all, are we?"
Humanity had advanced itself to the point where they could reach the moon, but in a lot of ways, they were still no different from Sarasim's people. They could crack the human genome but they were still no closer to bringing an end to war, or hatred, or betrayal. In a lot of ways, they had never truly grown as a species, and it was a discomforting thought.
Sarasim seemed to realize that her choice of conversation was leading them down a depressing road, and that was hardly intention. So she switched subjects, curious about something she'd heard earlier. "Cyborg… those… villagers we saw earlier…"
"Yeah?" The crowd… yeah, he definitely remembered them.
"They made a number of… strange remarks about me… can you clarify perhaps what they meant?"
"Sure," he replied. He suspected he knew what she was going to ask. She wanted to know what a Titan was.
We're the Titans, Sarasim. Me, Raven, Robin, Beastboy and Starfire… you met most of us in Titan's Tower… we named it that because of us. We're like… heroes. Warriors. We watch over this exceedingly large steel village here, and protect it from monsters like Krall… although the ones we fight tend to be a bit bigger and a lot stronger. And a lot more evil.
"One said I was… warm… I believe. I am afraid I do not understand. It is summer, but I do not feel uncomfortable…"
"Warm…?" said Cyborg, scratching his metal forehead. "Oh hot… he said he thought you were…"
"Yes, that was it. What did he mean?" she asked innocently. Cyborg felt his own cheeks start to grow hot, but he managed to explain the slang to Sarasim.
"Oh…" she replied thoughtfully. "So… do you think I'm hot?"
… ookay, he thought. This was something I hadn't expected.
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A week passed.
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Cyborg sat behind the control panel to the Titan's obstacle course. Thankfully, it was inactive, but it was an excellent vantage point for the combat raging below. Beastboy was perched on top of the console, and Raven and Starfire watched to one side.
Swords whistled through the air with deadly speed and accuracy, and the air was alive with the rapid clang-clang of metal on metal as each met it's opponent's and they parried and countered. Each blade worked as an extension of it's wielder, as much a part of them as their arms and legs, as they danced a deadly dance.
Sarasim's blade was heavy, required two hands to use, made of beaten iron and bronze with a mirror-like blade that was lovingly cared for and could've cleaved through rock if applied by someone who knew how to use it. And Sarasim certainly knew how to use it. Robin's blade was thinner, lighter, made of two specially designed birdarangs with a yellow blade and red hilt of titanium, and a very useful tool in a number of situations, or so the Boy Wonder had found out over the years. This was one of them.
The barbarian queen's sword swung upwards, and Robin shot up both arms with the sword held between to parry. Her blade snapped his in two, and proceeded downwards, halting only an inch from his shoulder. Had she carried through, she would have down serious damage to him.
"Not bad," he said, taking a moment to catch his breath. "Not bad at all." From Robin, this was high praise indeed. Especially since Sarasim had beaten him. True, he'd held back in a lot of aspects, not the least of which leaving his utility belt with Starfire. In a real life-or-death match, Sarasim would be the loser, and Robin the victor.
"Thank you," said Sarasim, shifting her sword to one hand and offering Robin a hand up. He accepted eagerly as the other Titans came cheering down to congratulate Sarasim and console Robin, as appropriate.
"Glorious new friend! Well done!" cried Starfire, engulfing Sarasim into a bone-crushing hug. The older warrior-woman grimaced but managed to pat Starfire on the back, returning the hug to some degree.
To say meeting an alien was shocking was an understatement, particularly when that alien was a vivacious alien teenager like Starfire. Raven's origins were difficult to understand as well, but she was calmer, quieter, easier to talk to for Sarasim. With Starfire, who was a polar opposite, Sarasim kept her guard up always, half expecting the redheaded Tamaranian to explode for no reason around her.
Still, after a week, Sarasim was relaxing around her newfound friends. She'd learned to accept, if not fully understand, their unusual origins and quirks.
"Nicely done, Sarasim," said Cyborg, giving her a friendly slap on the back. One that would have floored her had she not been ready for it.
"Thank you," she replied, brushing back her hair, some of which had fallen loose.
"You're doing pretty good," added Robin. "There's not much more I can teach you, really. You had some good instructors."
"None as considerate as you," replied Sarasim politely, though she meant every word of it. Most of the warriors in her own time had been men, who had relied on strength and weight in their fighting styles, and had taught her as such. It had taken her time to adjust her smaller, lighter body to it. To find her own style. Robin was aware of this, and able to better teach her. Though, as he said, there wasn't much left to learn.
The Boy Wonder reached up and ruffled his hair in a self-conscious gesture. "Well I guess that's it for training today."
"Movie night!" hollared Beastboy, his green body already in mid-transformation into a dove as he flew upwards towards the Tower. Most of the other Titans followed quickly behind him, leaving Cyborg and Sarasim alone.
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"So, movies?"
"I believe I will shower instead," said Sarasim, sheathing her sword back at her side. "I have... worked up quite a sweat?" she said, glancing at Cyborg. He nodded as they made their way into the Tower. Over the past few days, she'd managed to pick up a bit of modern slang. To say nothing of gotten used to most of the regular technology around Titan's Tower. She still didn't quite understand how most of it worked, but she understood how it was used, and for now, that was enough.
She'd moved into an unused guest room in the women's side of the Tower, and provided some basic furnishings. It wasn't much but she never asked for anything more than they could provide. A stand had been provided for her sword, where she rested it now, and then made her way towards the showers, casually stripping away her tunic as she did.
Cyborg politely turned his head. Modesty was still a concept they were working on. Fortunately it was only in her quarters, or in Cyborg's presence. She did not seem to mind him. And Cyborg couldn't exactly find the words to express why she shouldn't be strolling about in her birthday suit... since... well, a part of him enjoyed it.
Hey, he was a teenager after all.
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"Thank you for coming on such short notice… we understand things must be busy for your type."
"Eh, it was a slow night. Not a bank robber in sight. Not a babe in sight either."
A round of laugher ensued from the guard and the superhero as they walked down the dimly lit corridors of the dank, dark little prison.
They were heading down to the sub-levels, where the most notorious and dangerous criminals were kept. Supervillains, mostly. Really bad dudes. The cells were all specially designed down here with unique properties to hold whatever bad boy (or girl) would be required. And their destination was at the very last cell at the end of the corridor.
The superhero could feel glares on the back of his neck as he passed, but he ignored them all, his expression difficult to read behind a black mask stretched over his eyes. He did, however, toss a wink to the masked villain in one of the adjacent cells as he passed, earning a hiss from her. The name above her cell read 'Cheshire,' and she grinned eerily at him as he passed.
"We're not exactly sure yet what's going on but we thought it best if we had a Titan around when we checked out this cell," said the guard, taking a moment to find his keycard and sliding it through the door's lock. To describe it as impressive would be an understatement, it was locked up tighter than Fort Knox, with keycodes, retinal scans, and keycards. It would've taken a bit of effort to break in.
Or out.
With a final beep of recognition, the computer unlocked the door. The guard reached out and pulled the door open. What greeted them both on the other side was not a pleasant view at all.
Two guards lay on the floor, and their comrade quickly moved in to see if they were still alive. The hero's gaze, however, swept past them, seeing they were in capable hands. At the far end of the room lay a torture device-like contraption, designed to keep a humanoid of sorts completely restrained and locked down in position. At least that was it's original design. He highly doubted it would work now. It was mangled beyond repair, broken down into scrap and torn to pieces. Parts of metal lay strewn about the floor, and it sparked weakly as power was still being fed into the device.
Immediately his hand drifted down to the belt at his side, and he pulled out a circular communicator, flipping it open. "Speedy to Titan's East. We have a problem."
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Author's Notes:
He's not the young adult around either, which is why I wrote that scene.
IwuvMyKenshyPoo: Next chapter, all will be explained. And yes, it's canon, my favorite couples tend to be. Easier for me to believe them if I have evidence to support it.
ViciousAssassin: It's a humorous image. Humor is inevitable when you're teaching someone modern life. Yes, the villain has already been seen in Teen Titans. I'll give you that much.
Koriand'r Star: Think that's rough, what about her grasping other dimensions like Azerath? You were correct about the robbers, I hope that moment was well portrayed.
Todd fan: If you got enough time on your hands and plenty of imagination, heck yeah.
Jimmy the Gothic Egg: No story is complete without conflict. And what better to create conflict for a superhero than a supervillain, eh?
Ultimate R-Man: Your spidey-senses are not too far off. The likely culprit likely is the correct one. If this chapter didn't give you a major clue, nothing will.
Blackbird: That scene was largely edited for time, but I summarized briefly how they are around one another. Hope you like.
Comet-hime: Actually Cyborg's gotten more women in one form or another than most of his teammates. As for the villain, you're probably right. You must have telepathy as one of your gifts.
SxStrngSamurai13 Crisis just seems to love Jump City, doesn't it? It's the Metropolis of the West Coast. Baddies flock to it.
Pnaixrose: Cyborg just seems to get so very little love in fanfiction. And Sarasim gets none at all. This is my way of correcting that, since he's my favorite character. And she's perfect for him.
