Titans Burning

by Rigel7Sold

Chapter Two: Red Hood Reprisal

Disclaimer: Okay, I don't own anything seen here, except for original characters in later chapters.

Her name was Stephanie Brown. For the better part of a year, now, she's been playing in the big leagues, so to speak. At least, she thought she was. Everyone did. It took several more encounters with him for her to really figure things out. She wasn't a player. She was a pawn.

She'd started out small. Her biggest score was what they call "grand larceny." It was always about him, though. In the back of her mind, she knew. A neglected corner of her heart of hearts beat only for him. Then, she got caught. By him, naturally. A diamond heist, in which she was the only robber (she thought it was cleaner that way). She just had to get to the bike in time. But he got to it first.

The case never made it to court. Nobody, from the District Attorney to the judge himself, could give a solid explanation for why. But most described a certainty that held firm in their minds, until the case was dismisses, and all was forgotten. She had a friend she never knew about. Had she known, he likely would have been her best friend; he wiped her record clean, too.

Later that year, on the eve of another dreadful birthday, a gift was carefully placed atop her while she slept: a gift from her mysterious benefactor. Awaking in the morning, she found it to be a bizarre suit. Covering the entire body, it included a mask (which bore a skull and an "x"), gloves, boots, and a cape, as well as a stylish belt. She recognized it immediately. At that very moment, she knew what she had to do.

She had always been enamored with Richard Stantz Grayson, though she never knew that to be his name, and if she did, would never call him by it. No; He was Robin. And he was the real source of her... tendencies. She had long wished for him to take her away. It was from this desire that the commission of small, easily halted and sometimes clumsily executed crimes was born. Whether or not she ever realized it, it was a sort of cry for attention, but she took it another way: As a cry for help (which it also was).

She'd thought him smarter than he'd ever acted around her. She really hammed it up as the Red X, a byproduct of her unique sense of humor. But she also found him frustrating; how can he let a teenager throw their life away like this? Isn't it his job (that he isn't even paid for, the saint) to help people? She'd never acted The X as a particularly sane or stable individual, perhaps because of her own foibles... can he be that dense?

The X was always sort of a joke. The things she would say... about how she doesn't care about Robin (though if she didn't, she obviously wouldn't bother with him), or all that moral relativity nonsense. She knew what she was. She was a deviant. And she kept going deeper. She could barely help herself after a while.

Her affections grew darker and darker, until they seemed to turn the scale and cross into hatred. Her patience had been worn through long ago. It was at this point that her epiphany came. She was just a pawn. She'd let him control her life. She'd traipsed around in his "bad" costume and aimlessly waxed faux philosophic, in a manner that in fact served as little more than a boost for his ego. She tore at the costume until little remained. Repairing it as best she could, she fashioned a new costume, made distinct by, in place of the mask, a red hood.

This was first and foremost, a psychological move. Fun Fact: Jonathan "Jack" Napier briefly operated under the criminal alias "The Red Hood," before fate intervened and made him The Joker. In that vein, it was a warning. She was dangerous before, and now that she's given up, she'll only get worse. Arming herself with throwing daggers, razor edged playing cards (another Joker flair), and miscellaneous Red X equipment, she set out, mumbling the "game plan" repeatedly to herself. This operation had to go off without a hitch. Much to her surprise... it did.

There they were. Titans Tower, Robin's bedroom. She had the upper hand; It was night, so he would be asleep. And though his initial struggle (which was curiously directed more towards reaching the "Hot Line" than shaking her off) was devastating, she now had him right where she wanted him. A binding "x" held him fast to the wall, as she made her move. She couldn't help talking to him. She'd waited so long for something like this.

"I bet you respect me now, birdboy," she curtly began. It wasn't much of a taunt, she just loved these little power trips. She just had to remember not to overdo it. But then, she realized she would only need to keep his mouth working; the rest could go, as far as she was concerned. Well, almost all of the rest, but that's another thing entirely.

Robin was done playing games. "Who are you?", he asked, unsure whether he'd asked her that before.

She feigned a pout. Again masking her voice, she barked back, "Who do you think I am. Actually, don't answer that. You probably think I'm some punk kid with a name like Jason, or Todd. I bet you thought you had me figured out."

Pausing for effect, she turned aways briefly, then, turning back and unmasking, she spoke, "I'm Stephanie Brown!"

Robin decided it was best not to say anything, no matter how much of a surprise the reveal came as. He was right about one thing. She was some punk kid.

She moved in for the kill, or so it seemed. Instead, she violently crushed his lips against hers, roughly biting his lip and auguring her tongue into his mouth. One hand held his head. The other held one of the daggers, and crept lower and lower.

Things just got weird.

Chapter Two End

A/n-Okay, I'm not sure if I'm okay with the idea of Red X being a girl. It was an idea I had a while ago. Eh. I always thought the Red X was not what it seemed. It just seemed to fit. Reviews are appreciated. Danke Shoen.