Yes. I do, in fact, actually exist. Just not on a dimensional plane that most recognize. But deal, cos you're getting chappie goodness, and therefore should be happy. Or at least shouldn't flame. Not that you would anyway, would you? Didn't think so.
Here's yer gor'am chappie.
Cyborg pulled up at the television station at five the next day. Sandra had called and rescheduled the interview, so now the Titans were stuck talking to people about personal issues.
"Price of fame, man. Price of fame," Cyborg said, mostly to himself, but the look Robin gave him told him he wasn't the only one in need of comfort.
As the four opened the door to the news station, they were attacked by a highly organized squadron of make up artists, hair stylists, and newscasters.
"Now, remember, be genial and people-friendly. We want viewers to feel as if they know you."
"Hand, please. Good God! What do you do to your nails?"
"Were you dressed by a colorblind shrew with thyroid problems?"
"What sort of moisturizer do you put on metal?"
"What type of concealer is used for green skin?"
"I just love your hair! What brand?"
"You need to decide if you want to come off as edgy-cute or mopey-hawt."
"Do we need to get this guy contacts? His eyes are yellow."
"I need a pair of pants, STAT!"
"You'll be dressed in civie clothes, if you don't mind."
"Oh, god, just kill me now and be done with it…" The Titans (even Starfire) groaned.
Raven looked at her legal pad. The previous night, it had seemed practical. It had seemed useful. It had even seemed full of good information. Now, there seemed to be full of a million disjointed facts, clamoring for attention.
She sighed and started to go through them, organizing them as well as she could. Eventually, the stress started to get to her, and she went to make some tea.
Robin, now looking paler and prettier, walked out into the studio, nearly blinded by the floodlights. And nearly tripping over his loan pants. And nearly sneezing the concealer off.
"Okay, we're on in fifteen. Here's the list of questions I'll be asking you." Sandra, her white-blonde hair blinding in the light, pushed an intern, who passed out a packet of questions. "I need each of you to answer at least three questions, and we can only spend at most one minute on every question, so make your answers snappy, but not rushed, deep, but not teary or you'll ruin your makeup, and remember to speak up but not yell or make it apparent that you're speaking up."
"Dude. There are answers next to the questions. And the packet says 'script' on it."
Sandra blinked, not used to people thinking for themselves. "Those are suggested answers. If you've got something better, though, you can say it." A threatening eyebrow was raised on Sandra's part. The cameramen said something in newscode, and she sat down swiftly, beckoning the Titans to follow suit. Cheesy music played, and everyone on set sat perfectly still as newscasters two sets over introduced the show, gave a recap ("Oh, god, the pain!" Beast Boy whimpered), and introduced Sandra.
"Hello, I'm Sandra Bryne. I'm here with the Teen Titans, here to answer a few questions about the current situation inside the Tower."
Raven turned the legal pad upside down, sideways, and backwards, trying to read her own handwriting. When she had finally parsed out what she had written, she smiled. She squealed. She gritted her teeth at the sound of a breaking plate. She stood up. She jumped, squealed, and
tried to scowl as little as possible.
"Uhm… Well, that's not how it happened…" Beast Boy flushed under his fur. "She had to leave… Could you turn the lights down a bit?"
"No. So she selfishly decided that she couldn't stand to be in your presence and left." Sandra inwardly grinned at the story. She could spin this for months, milk this for years, and get the renown she deserved as the best newscaster ever.
"She left for reasons of personal. Could we move onto a new subject for discussion, please? It is most dishonorable to talk of Raven whilst she is not here."
Raven looked at Starfire. How am I not here? But she didn't mind. She preferred to not disclose her reasons to the press.
Sandra also looked at Starfire. Humans aren't supposed to show spine. And especially not Tamoranians. "Meh. Tell me about your new relationship with Robin." Something about Sandra's smile was unnervingly preditorial.
"Well, we have been out-going for over two weeks—"
"Around the time Raven left. Any reason?"
"No!" Raven said, perhaps too violently. Okay, too violently.
Sandra's eyebrow shot up. "Really? Then why so defensive?"
Raven contemplated shouting, "I'm not defensive!", but that seemed too cliché. So she settled on, "Because I have some airheaded chit with delusions of grandeur asking me about personal issues which she should very well stay out of for her own personal safety."
Sandra's inner reporter nearly died of shock. This was just plain spectacular! Not only did she have Raven's issues to investigate, she had Robin's, including a threat to her well-being! "Are you trying to insinuate something?"
"Why of course not, Sandra, just making sure that the lay of the land is known." Raven smiled an icy smile. She decided to freak out about the fact that her voice wasn't hers, nor her clothes, later. She needed to sort some things out. "And if you happen to badger or slander my family, I will file a lawsuit all too happily."
Robin fell flat on his bed, a silly grin still on his face. He had found it! He had found it! He had found it! All would be over soon! All that was needed now was…
A plan. Crap. Plans took time, thought, and more caffeine. They were best laid whilst in the company of mice (Robin grinned at his own literary joke), in the middle of the night, while everyone was asleep and no one could ask you to fix the toaster (that thing broke too often).
And usually plans were laid with more information. Right now, all he had was an address. No blueprints, no photographs, no information. And, of course, no probable cause for a warrant. He was going to have to do recon the old fashioned way. Which, while more fun, was going to take more planning. Robin got out of bed and began to brew some black tea.
When the questions had stopped (the session had been cut short due to biting sarcasm and an overload on the cynicism scale), Raven let out a sigh and glared at her team. "What the hell were you thinking, letting us do an interview! A press confrence would have been safer!"
Her team blinked in unison. "Robin, you were the one who said Sandra called you and arranged the interview. We didn't have any say in it."
Raven blinked back at her team. If she were more than one person, than the collective Ravens would have blinked in unison. "I'm not
drinking that tea." Raven picked up the mug full of black tea, sniffed it, and recognized it as the tea Starfire had got for her birthday three years ago. Old tea is not benificial to one's health. So she dumped the tea in the sink and began to brew some green tea while she looked at her notes again, hoping that in her late night cram she had come up with a plan. Any idea of what to do next would help.
And in the corner of the next sheet, she had begun to write out a to do list. Sneak into library. Easy when you can phase. Buy smoke bombs. Pointless when you can blend into shadows. Raven crossed that off. Find reason to escape Tower for hours. Why would she need-
Raven realized what had happened. Robin had written that list. "Fu-
Robin looked at his teammates. His teammates looked at him. "Did I miss something?"
"You were acting most peculiar during the interview and just now you were confusing the who and what."
Robin looked to Cyborg. "Well, your vitals were normal, considering the stress during the interview."
"Which, by the way, was totally awesome. She was like, wha? And you were like, get off my case, and she was like, awww, and you were like, deal!"
"Beast Boy, even if I understood that, it is completely off point. I'm missing some time, and that means there's a problem. Cyborg can't detect any problem, which means it's worse. And I remember things that didn't happen. Which makes it really, really, really bad." Robin felt bad about scaring his teammates, but he was scared, too. And it took a lot to scare him.
At last, it's finished! Done! Or at least advanced slightly.
As a clarification to one of my reviews: Yes. This is a RobRae. Sorry. But I prefer the pairing, and as the Lord, Master, and God—Imean author of this little ficlet, you've just got to deal. It will be slow and subtle and slight, though. And things might change by the end.
But thank ye all for your reviews! It has made me tres happy. (of course, more would be appreciated. Just hinting...)
This has been Kali; sleep deprived and out.
