Dark Titans - Arc 3 – This Ain't A Scene...
Chapter 2
Enjoy if you will, Tolerate if you won't.
Shampoo winced as her companion let out a low whistle of appreciation for their surroundings. In response, she buried her elbow into his side with enough force to bruise internal organs. With an explosive burst of breath, he turned to stare at her; only to have an annoyed glare fired his way.
"Stupid Mousse. No act like backwards country bumpkin. Is only office building."
The longhaired male continued to stare at her for another moment, before breaking out into a wide smile.
"But Shampoo, we are backwards country bumpkins. Besides," He then gestured to the lavish hallway they had been instructed to walk down. Persian rugs carpeted the entire stretch, tables and chairs of English Oak lined the walls. Priceless works of art hung every ten feet, as if to taunt visitors with the insane wealth that their host possessed. "Have you even seen this place? This Luthor guy is so rich, I think they need to make up a new word just to describe it."
Shampoo grumbled under her breath. Just because it was true didn't mean he had to act so impressed. Where was his warrior's pride? So, with all of the pride of a true warrior, she stuck out her tongue and raspberried him.
"Biiih! Speak for self, bumpkin. Fine, him rich man . . . just . . . not whistle so loud. Shampoo have wicked hangover."
Even someone as proud as Shampoo would admit that their latest flight to the States had been simply amazing. And that stewardess . . . steward . . . or had his name just been Stuart? Anyway, the young man that had been pampering her on their ultra first class flight had been very understanding about her desire to indulge herself since her Great Grandmother wasn't around to spoil her fun.
"Heh, the way that guy was feeding you drinks, you'd think he was trying to induct you into the mile high club."
Hmph! The nerve of some people! Sure, she may have gotten a little tipsy, but it wasn't like she would ever betray her husband . . . though, that attendant had been very handsome . . .
Okay, honestly, she had been so drunk on that plane that the only reason she hadn't dragged Stuart into the bathroom herself was because he looked like the kind of guy that would need three friends and a baseball bat to fight his way out of a paper bag.
And besides!
She looked at Mousse through lidded eyes.
"Shampoo surprised you even notice, considering how much you drooling over that too, too blonde stewardess."
Immediately, Mousse turned his head away from her and buried his hands deeply into his sleeves; both were nervous habits of his that were nearly as old as the boy himself. Of course, the fact that she wasn't completely blind meant that his feeble efforts did nothing to hide his reddened cheeks.
"I-I-I don't know what you're talking about, Shampoo! You know I only have eyes for you. Besides, I wasn't even wearing my glasses for most of the flight; I could hardly even see her . . ."
An evil grin spread across her lips as she decided to press her attack. "Oh really? Shampoo pretty sure even dead man notice blond girl's rack when it shoved that close to face."
"Eh heh heh . . ."
Mousse nearly turned sideways as they continued walking. He then pulled a hand from his sleeve and began to rub the back of his head nervously. It wasn't one of his nervous traits, it was one that she usually saw that stupid Lost Boy doing, and seeing Mousse do it annoyed her. On the other hand, Ranma did it once in a while too, so it was a little cute.
Still, it reminded her too much of that cabbage headed Lost Boy, so under the cover of swatting him upside the head, she knocked his hand back to his side.
"Hmph, and no think Shampoo not notice fact you no wear glasses. Mousse only do that when trying to impress someone."
Seriously, she made the mistake of saying he had nice eyes once and 'Bam'! The blind duck practically refused to wear his glasses unless his life was on the line. Having that redheaded alien girl reinforce the idea had only made it worse.
"Ummmm . . . heh . . . ah, well, you are aware that the shriveled old mummy is going to kill us for drinking on the plane, right?"
Shampoo giggled to herself. That was easily one of the most blatant dodges that she had ever heard. Still, she'd better let it go, before he turned the conversation back to the fact that she hadn't been acting any more mature than him.
"You worry too much. We is martial artists. We masters of own bodies; Shampoo sure we can hide tiny hangovers from Great Grandmother."
The look that he shot her simply screamed 'You can't possibly believe that,' but he was kind enough not to actually say it. Instead, he just tipped his head to the side, indicating the massive set of double doors before them.
"Well, I suppose we're about to find out . . ."
Shampoo nodded, nervously straightening out her clothing and smoothing down her hair as much as possible with only Mousse's enormous glasses as mirrors.
Several moments passed . . .
"Um, so, should we knock?"
". . . Shampoo no know . . . usually elders call us in when they good and ready."
Several more moments passed . . .
"That's it, I'm knocking."
"Mousse not dare! Great Grandmother call us in when she want talk to us."
"This isn't the village, Shampoo. I don't think they care."
"Great Grandmother is village!"
" . . . That doesn't even make sense . . ."
"You shut up before Shampoo induct you into village ruling caste."
"What? How would you . . ." Mousse suddenly looked down to his groin, his eyes widening in a most amusing manner, " . . . oh . . ."
Shampoo crossed her arms under her chest, smiling wickedly as she revelled in her victory. "Maybe Mousse not so stupid after all-"
Suddenly, the doors before them opened, causing both bickering martial artists to jump an inch. Standing at the foot of the door, literally, was her Great Grandmother; the aged warrior pinned the both of them with an annoyed glare.
"What are you fool children standing there like gawking chickens for? We've been waiting for you for minutes."
The violet haired Amazon went red in the face, before pushing the blood from her cheeks by sheer force of will alone. She then turned to glare at Mousse, just daring him to say-
Ohno he did not!
He did not just stick his tongue out at her! If that little blind duck didn't watch himself, she'd give him a real taste of the Three Year Smiling Death.
Without wasting another moment, her Great Grandmother herded them into the room. Only minimal use of her cane was used, a fact which led Shampoo to believe that the ancient woman wasn't that upset . . . though now she just traded one set of reddened cheeks for another.
Wow . . .
It took her a full tick of the clock to take in the entirety of the room before her. If the hallway had been impressive, then the room they entered defied all adjectives. A massive bay of windows sprawled across the back of the room, almost as large as the expanse of windows in the Titan's main room. The literal wall of glass filled the room with painful, painful natural light, but offered a simplygorgeous view of the city.
And that was just the most blatant feature. Rugs, paintings, pretty much everything that had been in the hallway was in here as well, only even more extravagant. The main difference being the desk that was set in the center of the room . . . though, it was possible that someone had backed a flatbed truck into the room and simply lined it with wood. Really, how much paper work could one person possibly have to do to require a desk that large? Almost as an after thought, she noticed there were three extremely comfortable looking chairs set before the monolithic desk.
Despite the size of the room, it only had two other occupants. Leaning against one of the distant walls was a raven haired woman. She looked to be pretty old, at least in her thirties, and was watching them like a hawk watches a family of tiny rabbits. Shampoo immediately locked glares with the woman and shot her a challenging look. She knew a martial artist when she saw one, and she'd be damned if she was going to be intimidated by some corporate lackey.
The rooms only other occupant was currently seated behind the expanse of the desk. The moment they entered, the suit wearing gentleman rose to his feet, revealing that he was much larger than Shampoo had been expecting . . .
Much balder as well, though she noticed that well before he stood up.
"Ah, Xian Pu, Mu Tzu, it's so good that you could make it. Please, let me welcome you to Metropolis. My name is-"
"Lex Luthor."
Shampoo looked to the longhaired boy beside her. His confident statement had been even more startling then their host actually pronouncing their names correctly. Mousse just turned to her and shrugged.
"The name on the building helped . . ."
Mr. Luthor smiled knowingly. "Now don't sell yourself short, young man. I'm sure that a person with your rather unique education would know my name quite well, Mr. Mu Tzu."
Understanding dawned on her immediately. Mr. Luthor had to be referring to Mousse's recent stint at that villain academy . . . but why would Mousse know this man's name from there? The wily Amazon cast a critical eye on the statuesque figure of their host. He almost seemed larger than life, the way he towered over them, practically radiating a calm confidence. With Mr. Luthor behind it, the oversized desk suddenly didn't seem so ridiculous . . .
Just what kind of man was Lex Luthor?
"Now then, you must be tired after your long trip, please have a seat." Mr. Luthor gestured to the nice looking chairs before him, "Now that you've finally arrived, we have some very important business to discuss."
Shampoo hesitated for a moment, but quickly followed suit when her Great Grandmother took a seat herself. She had to admit, between shooting death glares at the older woman leaning on the wall, that her curiosity was absolutely killing her. As soon as she sat down, though melted into seemed a more apt description, into her chair, Mousse shrugged and sat down on her Great Grandmother's left side.
She certainly hoped she wasn't smiling as blatantly as he was. Damn! These chairs were comfortable.
"So, if you don't mind me asking," Mousse began cautiously, "Just what kind of business do you have with us?"
Was she getting so bad, that she wasn't even bothered by the fact that her male companion was speaking out of line, when it was obviously the Elder's place to initiate the discussion about to take place? When had she gotten so soft that she didn't even bat an eye when Mousse so flagrantly disregarded the village's laws?
When had she stopped really caring about the laws themselves?
The violet eyed warrior quickly banished such disturbing thoughts from her mind as Mr. Luthor smiled another of his charismatic and charming smiles. The man then leaned back into his chair, casually steepling his fingers before him. Shampoo had to admit, she'd never met a male that possessed such a presence before, at least, one that wasn't the direct result of a powerful battle aura.
"Well, Mr. Mu Tzu, I have a project in the initial stages of development, and I very much need the assistance and cooperation of the Joketsuzoku people to accomplish my goals. However, this project is at a very delicate stage, so it is not yet in my best interest to inform you of the plan in its entirety, at least until I'm sure you can be trusted . . ."
What? How dare he infer that she was untrustworthy! She was just about to make her opinion very vocal, when-
"Which is why I am offering each of you positions here at Lexcorp. I feel this is the best way to form a bond of trust, as we build a working relationship over the coming weeks and months."
Weeks?Months? Just what was her Great Grandmother getting them into? What about Ranma? How was she supposed to win him over from a half a world away?
"Wait, wait – wait just a minute," Mousse interrupted again, "You flew us around the entire world, just to offer us jobs? . . . What kind of jobs?"
It didn't take someone with Shampoo's lifetime of experience to see that Mousse was more than just a little interested. Not that she could blame the blind duck. He didn't have any real ties to Nerima, especially since most everyone had already left to become heroes and other such foolishness. Mr. Luthor picked up on it immediately, leaning forward, a sharp look on his features.
"Well, I've taken the liberty of having my human resources people prepare a small aptitude test for the two of you, just to see where you . . . best fit into our company. Though, I have a few ideas of areas where you might thrive, already. Of course, since the two of you are so young, it would be prudent of me to start you off with more conservative salaries, say . . . Two hundred thousand dollars a year?"
Two hundred thousand? Was that a lot, or not? Damn, why hadn't she paid more attention to the exchange rates? She had enough trouble with Yuan to Yen. Unsure of herself, Shampoo turned to Mousse to see what he thought-
. . . For some reason, her lifelong companion appeared to be choking on his own tongue!
Without thinking, she leapt from her seat and slapped him across the back hard enough to knock the gagging fool to the floor.
"Stupid Mousse, you stop dying now! You embarrassing Shampoo!"
After a few more whacks for good measure, Mousse finally remembered how to breathe and inhaled a huge lungful of air . . . which immediately incited a coughing fit of epic proportions, complete with chest thumping, hacking, wheezing and tears . . . the whole nine yards, really.
"Two – two - 'cough' - hundred thousand . . . a year?"
Hmm, judging by that response, it appeared that it was a lot of money. Feh, like she cared about that.
Looking quite amused, Mr. Luthor somehow manufactured a helpless expression and waved his hands to the sides in a most put upon fashion. "I'm sorry, son, but that's all I can offer at the moment. If you're looking for a raise, you'll have to go through the same channels as the rest of Lexcorp's employee's."
A dry, rustling chuckle filled the air, finally reminding them all that the Ancient Amazon was indeed still among them.
"A clever tactic, Mr. Luthor, attempting to bring us into the fold, as it were. So, tell me, what ridiculous sum of money to you intend to throw in my direction to secure my cooperation?"
Again, Mr. Luthor leaned back, steepling his fingers before him. Apparently it was his 'bargaining' position. The man's chair swiveled to the side slightly as he met Cologne's gaze with a determined gaze of his own.
"Do you think I would be foolish enough to believe that mere monetary gain would be enough to sway one such as yourself, Elder Khu Lon? Heh, even your rather stoic Great Granddaughter was unimpressed with such a base offer. Must come with the aesthetic warrior lifestyle, I suppose.
"No, I was thinking something a little more influential would be in order, so, I've decided to make you Vice-President."
Stunned silence reigned for a moment.
". . . Vice-President of what?" her Great Grandmother asked slowly.
Mr. Luthor smiled ever wider. The man gestured grandly all around them.
"Why, of all of Lexcorp, of course. You would have unfettered access to anything and everything you saw fit. You would have the ability to influence major company decisions; division heads would be answerable to you, you would have the power to hire and fire people . . . to reallocate resources however you saw fit . . ."
The last was added so leadingly, that Shampoo could practically see the gears in her Great Grandmother's head start turning. The reallocation of resources as she saw fit? Shampoo couldn't even imagine the plans forming in the ancient warrior's mind . . . One thing bothered her, though.
"What about old Vice-President? Him no be upset?"
Not that she really cared, but these ultra-materialistic people tended to be pretty petty.
Mr. Luthor's deep, bass laughter assuaged her concerns before he even bothered to explain.
"I admit that the man was a bit put-out by the decision, but when I told him that he was more than welcome to fight your Great Grandmother for the job, he quickly agreed it was for the best."
Before she even realized it, Shampoo was giggling at the mental image of a mousy little paper pusher squaring off against the Matriarch of the Amazon village in ritual combat. As she did, Mr. Luthor turned back to her Great Grandmother.
"Think of it, Elder. My intelligence and ambition, being guided by your wisdom and experience? We could make a formidable pair, the two of us. Just imagine the good you could do for your village, or the entire world in time?"
Shampoo could only stare, wide eyed. It was true that her Great Grandmother was easily the most powerful woman in the entire village, both martially and politically. Thanks to her shrewd mind, the Elder's influence extended well beyond the village itself, with contacts across half of China . . .
But all of that was nothing compared to the reigns of power that this male was freely preparing to hand to her now. If her Great Grandmother accepted this offer, it would literally catapult her from complete obscurity to being a person capable of influencing global economies at a whim . . .
Shampoo didn't even want to think about what the old woman could do with that kind of power . . .
Suddenly, the idea of Nabiki becoming a supervillain didn't seem nearly as terrifying as it had moments ago. She looked across to Mousse, to gauge his reaction, only to see an even more horrified expression on his face.
With grace bordering on reverence, her Great Grandmother nodded her head a single time.
"Very well, Mr. Luthor. We accept your generous offer. After all, I believe it would do these children good to see a little more of the world." The Elder chuckled to herself, even as she gestured to Shampoo over her shoulder.
Mr. Luthor immediately rose to his feet and clapped his hands together excitedly. "Excellent, excellent! I believe the next several months shall be very exciting for all of us."
The bald business mogul then pressed a seemingly random spot on the surface of his desk, causing a small screen to slide seamlessly out of the polished wood. A young woman's face appeared on the screen a moment later.
"Patricia, is everything prepared for our newest employee's aptitude tests?"
"Of course, Mr. Luthor. I'll escort them down myself as soon as you're done."
"Excellent. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you, my dear."
With that, another press of the button caused the screen to vanish once more. Mr. Luthor then returned his attention their way, anticipation filling his entire face.
"Miss Xian Pu, Mr. Mu Tzu, if you'd be so kind, Patricia is waiting for you at the end of the corridor. Elder Khu Lon, if you could please accompany me, we have a literal mountain of paperwork to get through tonight."
Even as her Great Grandmother nodded in agreement, a twinkle in her eyes that Shampoo wasn't sure she had ever seen before, Shampoo herself and Mousse quickly got up and made their way to the door. She just couldn't believe it. Everything was happening so fast, it was leaving her dizzy . . . no, wait, that was just the hangover. She chuckled evilly to herself, she couldn't believe they had gotten away with –
"Oh, by the way, Shampoo . . ."
The violet haired Amazon stopped mid-step, a cold chill racing up her spine. Wishing she had a blindfold, she reluctantly turned to face the firing squad.
"We will be discussing your punishment for drinking alcohol on the plane . . . later."
Damn! Shampoo hated it when she did that: left some nebulous punishment hanging over her head. Ever single time, she would be left waiting so long that she imagined the anticipation was even worsethan any possible punishment to come . . .
She'd been proven wrong every single time.
"Miss Xian Pu," Mr. Luthor spoke in a stern tone, "We here at Lexcorp do not condone underage drinking among our employees. I hope this won't be a problem, will it?"
Shampoo hung her head, her cheeks burning with shame at the double admonishment-
Except, just before she could turn away, and even as Cologne was still nodding imperiously in agreement, Mr. Luthor very quickly, and very subtly . . . smirked. It caught her attention just long enough for the older man to silently mouth
'Check your mini-fridge later.'
Immediately, Shampoo perked up slightly, but not too much, and nodded smartly. "Shampoo understand perfectly, Mr. Luthor. Will not be problem at all."
Maybe she had perked up a little too much, as her Great Grandmother suddenly turned an inquisitive gaze over her shoulder . . . only to see the sternly staring face of Mr. Luthor glaring at Shampoo . . .
Shampoo quickly took advantage of the distraction to make a break for it. She grabbed Mousse's hand and forcefully dragged him from the room before anything else could go wrong.
There was one thing that she had gleaned from this meeting, though . . .
She definitely liked the way this Mr. Luthor operated.
With a weary sigh, Mousse swung open the door before him . . . only to suck that very same breath back in as he gawked at the sheer size of the living quarters that sprawled out before him. He didn't have time to comment, though, as a powerful (yet delicate) hand playfully (yet forcefully) shoved him off to the side A moment later, an excited Shampoo strode into the room.
"Out of way, Blind Duck, this Shampoo's room, remember?"
As soon as the bubbly Amazon saw the room, she let out an appreciative whistle of her own. The young warrior then whirled back to the door to address the devastatingly attractive brunette that had escorted them there; Patricia, if he recalled correctly.
"Which room Shampoo's bedroom?" she asked, sweeping her arm across the massive living area behind her. There were couches, chairs, a nice dining table, a small kitchenette, and most importantly, a ludicrously large entertainment system strewn artfully across the vast space. There were also four doors, two on each of the walls to their sides, since the wall across from them was yet another expansive bay of windows.
Mousse was pretty sure they could reopen the NekoHanten in this apartment alone if they started feeling nostalgic.
Without missing a beat, Patricia took a step into the room and pointed out the four rooms in rapid succession.
"Bathroom, Master Bedroom, Guest Bedroom and Study." She then turned to face him, almost instantly causing his glasses to fog up. "Your room is very much identical, Mr. Mu Tzu, and it's only three doors down. I can show you the way, if you like."
Mousse tugged at his collar, suddenly feeling a little hot under it. "Heh, uh . . . n-no thank you. I'm sure I can find it on my own, after I help Shampoo unpack . . ."
An alluring smile spread across the woman's lips and she took several gliding steps towards him. Before he even had a chance to start fumbling and tripping over himself to move back, the gorgeous woman quickly fished into the breast pocket of her blouse and produced a pair of, what looked to be credit cards.
He let his mind boggle at the impossibility of fitting even something as thin as those cards into a blouse that tight . . . maybe she knew some hidden weapon techniques of her own . . .
"Well, Mr. Mu Tzu, you'll be needing these. They're the keycards for your rooms." She gently pressed the cards into his unresponsive hand, closing his fingers around them so they wouldn't drop to the floor. "The top one is yours and the bottom one is Miss Xian Pu's. After your positions are determined, they'll be upgraded to your new security clearances to let you get around the building, so make sure not to lose them."
With that, Patricia finally released his hand and proceeded to sashay out the door. Mousse found himself staring at the empty doorframe for several more seconds, before his self preservation instinct finally decided to kick back in. Immediately, he spun back to face the only other occupant of the room, hand at the back of his head and a nervous laugh on his lips.
"Eh, heh heh . . . well, I guess we don't have to worry about the commute . . . eh?"
Shampoo's flat stare bored through his skull and into the wall behind him. The violet eyed girl held her unimpressed gaze for a long, long moment, arms crossed tightly under her chest, before letting out an annoyed sigh.
"You using Tag Body Spray and just not telling Shampoo? Bad taste must be big trend in U.S., is only explanation Shampoo can think of for what going on lately."
Mousse chuckled weakly, even as he grumbled on the inside. If it were anyone else, he'd just chalk it up to jealously, but this was Shampoo they were talking about. She just seemed to enjoy reminding him of his social status, or lack thereof, from time to time.
Oh, why did change have to come so slowly?
"Feh, she was just being nice. It's not like I'd even have a chance with a woman like that."
He nearly bit his tongue when he realized what he'd just said; unfortunately, it was already far too late for that. Shampoo whirled on him, fire in her eyes and Mandarin flame spewing from her tongue.
"Excuse me? She's too good for you, but I'm bland enough that you think you have a chance with me? Is that what you were trying to say?"
The nearly blind weapons master back peddled as quickly as his bulky robes would allow. He frantically waved his arms in a vain attempt to ward off the rising ire that he had so inadvertently sparked.
Damnit, Mousse, think, think like the wind!
"N-no-no! That's not what I meant at all!" he pontificated, switching back to Mandarin as well, "I . . . I was just thinking that – that I'm . . . too young for her – yeah! I mean, look at her, she looks like she's in her-" mid twenties "-early thirties!"
Shampoo glared at him suspiciously for another minute, but his desperate gambit seemed to have mollified the worst of her righteous female fury. Then, switching gears quickly enough to send his head spinning, the violet haired goddess beamed him a smile and spun around to make her way to the master bedroom.
"Come on, Silly Duck, you need to unpack my clothes and weapons."
The slightly affectionate nickname put a wide smile on Mousse's face and he quickly made his way after her. He did so enjoy spending time with Shampoo like this, just the two of them. With no one else around, she didn't feel the need to put up such a tough front, and he didn't feel the need to continually try to claim her love.
It was just . . . nice.
He entered the master bedroom just in time to hear Shampoo squeal in joy, before she twirled around to land excitedly on her mammoth, queen sized bed. All he could do was stare for a moment, as the simply beautiful young woman stretched herself out across the shimmering satin sheets of the bed, literally purring in contentment.
A second later, he averted his gaze to the side before she had the chance to notice his adoring gaze. It was so rare to see Shampoo genuinely enjoying herself like this, especially with him around, and he didn't want to ruin that for her. Of course, he wasn't in a rush to leave either, so he took a seat at the elaborate vanity that took up most of the nearby wall. It was a really nice vanity too, just like the ones he saw the models using in the movies.
Idly, he wondered if there was one in his room too . . .
What? You didn't think his hair got that luxurious by itself?
"So, what did you think of that test?" Shampoo asked out of the blue, "I mean, what was with those questions? 'A fellow employee approaches you and informs you that your perfume slash cologne is too strong. How do you respond?'"
Mousse chuckled quietly. He had to agree, not only were a lot of the questions downright bizarre, but a lot of them were very repetitive as well. Of course, he was pretty sure he had a good idea of what answers they had actually been looking for.
"Yeah, that was a good one. I picked 'B', myself: Apologize and thank them for their input, so that I might better integrate myself with the workforce. Heh, wasn't too hard to figure that one out . . . so, what response did you pick?"
Suddenly, Shampoo began to study the sheets below her with deadly intensity, absently drawing small circles in the fabric with a delicate finger. The nervous habit brought a smile to his face, as he was sure it was something that even Ranma rarely got to see.
"Um . . . yeah . . . I picked that one too . . ."
Mousse rolled his eyes. He didn't need to be a childhood friend to see through thatweak reply.
"Shampoo . . ."
The violet eyed beauty glared hotly at him for a moment, irate with his presumption . . ., but then let out a very unladylike snort and flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Then, for some reason, she switched back to Japanese.
"Fine, Stupid Blind Duck. Shampoo add new box to check. It say 'Bash in head and feed to herd.'"
Mousse could only stare, wide eyed at the love of his life.
"S-Shampoo! You can't do that!"
"Biiih!" Shampoo's pink tongue darted out teasingly. "Shampoo know that . . . no have any herds."
Mousse's wide eyed stare descended directly into incredulous gawking.
"That's not what I meant! Please, at least tell me that that was the only question you changed."
At that, Shampoo crossed her hands behind her head and stared off into space, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
"Oh," she nearly purred, "Shampoo add lots of boxes."
It was said in such a way that he was pretty sure only her Amazon pride was stopping her from cackling madly. In anguish, he slapped a hand to his forehead.
"Shampooooo . . ."
Said Shampooooo rolled her eyes in annoyance.
"Stop being so stupid, Mousse. Not like Big Desk Man fire us. Him not giving us jobs because he like us, him doing it to buy loyalty, so it not matter what we do."
The hidden weapon master was about to respond . . . but found himself without a response to that. It honestly hadn't occurred to him, but the deceptively clever Amazon was absolutely right.
"Heh, well, I've gotta say it's working so far."
Shampoo stared at him seriously, before squealing happily again and kicking her legs into the air.
"Shampoo know! Was no sure until she lay on bed, but now Shampoo sold! No can waitto see what new jobs are."
Hmm, he had to agree. He was pretty interested to see where his aptitude test would eventually place him . . .
"Aren't you worried about your test, though? I mean, it was developed to find us jobs that suited us."
The violet eyed warrior nodded gleefully, "Exactly, Shampoo just wanted to give honest representation of self. No want to get stuck as secretary or something, that men's work!"
Against his will, he chuckled at her mild sexism. It was times like this that he truly loved, simply sharing the enjoyment of each others company, without anyone else to interfere. It didn't take too long for a comfortable silence to descend over them.
". . . So, what Mousse think Big Desk Man's plan is?"
So much for comfortable silences . . .
He considered the question for a moment.
"Well, the most obvious thing I can think of is that he wants to find a way to steal our martial arts secrets in order to create some kind of secret army of ultra powerful martial artists . . ."
Shampoo stared at him flatly.
"Mousse spend too much time at villain school. Besides, that no make sense."
He shrugged, reluctantly agreeing. "True enough, I suppose. Unless he has an army of five year olds ready to dedicate the next twenty years of their lives to the martial arts. I mean, it's not like he can clone us . . . is it?"
The two warriors shared a nervous glance . . .
"Naw!" they exclaimed in unison.
Shaking his head in amusement, Mousse slowly rose to his feet and began to root through his sleeves for Shampoo's luggage. "Well, nothing to do but enjoy our free time while we still have it. I figure I'll go set up my room after this; you have any plans for later on?"
A slow, wicked grin spread across Shampoo's lips.
"Shampoo think she check out Study."
Mousse's eyes widened in horror.
"You didn't bring that did you?"
His lady love's wicked smile only grew, becoming truly frightening.
"Shampoo never leave restaurant without it. You finish unpacking Shampoo's things, you know where it all should go . . ."
"Shampoo have business to attend to."
Cyborg hung up the phone, casually dusting off his hands at another job well done. Well, that was the last of his chores done, so now he could finally kick back and relax. This in mind, he did a quick survey of the main room. It was pretty much empty, the only two occupants consisting of: Raven, sitting curled up on the couch, actually reading the newspaper for a change, and Beast Boy, several seats down and frantically bouncing up and down as he played on the Game Station.
Both seemed like viable sources of entertainment. He was always up for a game, but Raven was always so hilarious when she got mad . . . terrifying, but hilarious.
Not sure who was more deserving of his torment, the Titanium Titan strolled up behind the couch and casually began to look over both of his targets once more. The violet haired girl seemed to be pretty involved in whatever article she was reading, which meant that she would be especially annoyed if he disturbed her . . .
Well that was an easy decision; now, what to do, what to –
"Noooooooooooooooo!"
Beast Boy's anguished wail derailed his train of though, and even caused Raven to lower her paper . . . for about a second, before she remembered it was Beast Boy and she didn't care.
Hmm, angry Raven was fun, but not nearly as fun as Beast Boy when he was gettin' his butt whooped.
"Sounds like you're havin' a good time there, eh, BB?" he asked tauntingly.
Rather than take the bait, the emerald changeling growled loudly. "I was! But then that Nǚjiézú guy logged on and fragged me!"
The name brought Cyborg to a dead stop. Immediately, his circuits started to sizzle!
"Ah hell no! That Nǚjiézú guy knows that this is Cyborg's server!"
In one fluid motion, he hopped over the couch to sit beside his best buddy.
"Dawg, pass me a controller. I owe that griefer big time after what went down the last time he popped up!"
Whoever Nǚjiézú was, he'd been a thorn in Cyborg's side, and his player score, for months now. It was time for a size sixteen boot full of payback-
Cyborg Style!
- Fifteen minutes later –-
"-ere – no, where is – wait, wait, I got . . . Damnit!"
Cyborg angrily dropped his controller to the floor and stomped his feet several times for good measure. Beast Boy, head hanging in shame, looked over at him pitiably.
"You know, I wouldn't even mind all the head shots, but why does he have to wait till I spot him, before he blows my brains out? It's just wrong, Dude, worlds and worlds of wrong!"
Cyborg was about to explain, in great detail, the depths of cheating that their opponent had to be resorting to beat both of them, but was interrupted by a wry chuckle from the peanut gallery. Both young men turned to glare at the curled up form of Raven.
"What makes you so certain that he is a he?" she asked leadingly.
This time, the look that the both of them gave her was calculated purely for the purpose of letting the girl know that she had just said the dumbest thing in the history of forever. The answer to that was as obvious as the calibrations one would need to make to the engine of the T-Ship to produce a magnetic bottle capable of containing the anti-matter produced as a waste product of the ship's unique propulsion system.
"Um, because he's beating us, Rae."
Beast Boy chimed in, nodding fervently. "Like, Duh, Raven. There's no way that a girl would be good enough to take us on."
For just a moment, Cyborg imagined that Raven was suddenly wearing four pairs of glowing crimson slits where her violet eyes normally were, but shrugged it off as a trick of the mind. The glare she was impaling them with now was more than scary enough without dragging that kind of stuff into it.
"But your executioner colored their little space man pink and purple. Does that sound very masculine to you?"
Cyborg just shook his head sadly.
"Jeez, Rae, I didn't know you were so critical of the gay community."
Raven's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets as she sputtered indignantly.
"What does that have to do with –" In an amazing feat of will, the fuming female calmed herself and leveled her critical gaze their way once more. "So, you're saying that it's okay for you to be beaten by a gay man, but not by a woman?"
Cyborg and Beast Boy shared another quick glance, before they both shrugged. Man, she was asking all the easy questions today.
"Of course it is. A guy is still a guy, gay or not.'
His emerald cohort nodded, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. "And really, with guys as good looking as us around, how can you blame them?"
That did it, Raven was on her feet, practically simmering in her own indignant fury.
"Congratulations. You've actually found a way to make your acceptance of the gay community more offensive then your sexist attitude towards women. That's it, I'm going to-"
"Talk to Ryouga?" Beast Boy supplied, lacing the words with enough innuendo to actually clue Starfire in.
Cyborg was starting to get worried, especially since Raven's death glare was starting to set off his proximity alarm . . . but then the pale girl let out a long, weary sigh.
"Do either of you know if he's in the tower?" she asked, almost pleadingly.
It was all he could do to contain his growing mirth. God, he loved teasing Raven.
"Sorry, Rae. He called me a half hour ago to order a few pizzas to Terra's cave. Sounds like he's pullin another all nighter. Heh, Dawg's been down there so long, that the pizza guys don't even think I'm makin crank calls anymore."
The weak sigh that the girl let out this time, nearly deflating her visibly before them, actually sparked a small touch of sympathy in his titanium heart. They'd gotten their laughs; he should really throw the girl a bone.
"Why don't ya head down and make sure he's doin alright? I bet the pizza will be getting there pretty soon, ya know?"
He felt better immediately, as the robed girl seemed to perk up at the thought . . . only to be crushed under the weight of the frown that suddenly descended on the girl's normally neutral features.
"Hmph, he's already made his opinions quite clear on having a girl with 'an aura as huge as mine' disturbing him while he's with Terra. That's it, I'm going to talk to Ranma."
With that, the their teammate began to levitate towards the main elevator.
"Umm, dude?" Beast Boy called out over his shoulder, even as he returned the rest of his attention back to the game before him, "Isn't it, like, four in the morning there? Dude's gonna be pretty ticked if you wake him up, won't he?"
Raven's head tilted to the side as she considered this for a moment, likely coming to the stunning conclusion that BB was actually right, then she shrugged. "First of all, you should be calling me 'Dude' even less than you should be calling me 'Rae'. Second, it's Friday night there, so he won't mind."
And in a flash of black she was gone.
Cyborg shook his head in bewilderment, even as he turned back to the game and picked up his own controller.
"Man, Cy, that's some seriously messed up stuff, eh? Don't ever let me go all wonky like that, will ya?"
Absently, Cyborg nodded, even though it was already far too late to keep that promise, considering how crazy BB had gone over Terra, like, five seconds after meeting her. Still, there was just one thing he couldn't figure out.
"I just do not get Ryo, dude. I know that I like a little junk in the trunk . . . metaphysically speaking," he explained emphatically.
Beast Boy let out a bark of laughter. "Heh, metaphysically my butt!"
"No, not your butt."
"Ha! Awesome one, dude!"
"Alright now, BB, down to business. It's time to bury Nǚjiézú so deep that it'll take him a year to dig his way out."
-Five Minutes Later-
"Buddha! Make the suffering stop!"
"I got – wha – no . . . AGH damnit! A freakin'plasma sword?"