Tango...Bumblebee?
"What a way to spend Christmas," Beast Boy muttered to himself. He fumbled around in his flimsy coat pocket for a key, which he extracted and jammed into the lock of the warehouse door. But once he pushed on the door, even a little, it swung open: whoever was already inside had forgotten to lock the door behind them. Beast Boy bit his lip against the reproach that rose to mind—Did Joanne even know how valuable the effects equipment was in here?—and strode in, this time attending to what Terra's latest lover had neglected.
The wide, crudely made stage ahead of him was already dimly lit, lame fluorescent light struggling down to illuminate the brisk suit and tie-clad figure cussing quietly to herself, her back turned to him. Beast Boy's eyes immediately went to the transparent wings on her back. Bee? What was she doing here? And where was Joanne?
So damn awkward...
Beast Boy scuffed the heel of his sneaker on the concrete floor,
resulting in a disproportionately loud shriek. He winced at the
sound, but at least it had gotten Bumblebee's attention, as she now
whirled around to face him, recognition immediately replacing the
startled shock, but then changing completely into utter
confusion.
"Mark?"
Oh, no. Beast Boy groaned inwardly, frowning at the subject and hoping to God that she wasn't who he thought she was. "Joanne?"
Bumblebee looked as though she wanted to say something else, but was jerked into song: "I told her not to call you!"
Beast Boy shrugged helplessly.
Yeah, well, Terra was probably as thrilled about this as the two of
them were. He only hoped they could get out of this before they all
went completely insane.
"That's Maureen," he
excused. "...But can I help while I'm here?"
And before he knew it,
Beast Boy was tangoing. With Bumblebee. Beast Boy hadn't even known
he could tango, much less well enough not to kill his partner
in the process. Hm. Well, you learned something new every day. He was
suddenly aware of a nasty bump to the back of his head, and then
alerted that he was laying on his back. On the floor. And Bumblebee
was staring anxiously down at him, slapping his cheek to revive him
into consciousness. He could only grin as he sat, then stood up,
clasping her hand in both of his.
"You know what? I feel
great now."
He patted her shoulder, then left; apparently, he'd patched the mic problem sometime between when he'd blacked out and re-awakened.
But nooooo, there was no rest for the weary. His camera materializing again in his grasp, some strange inner compass directed Beast Boy to a grimy community center some miles south. He mugged some poor, innocent kid for a subway token, then cruised his way over to his destination.
He found himself next in a spacious, equally dingy room full of folding chairs, those in turn full of pretty much every petty villain he'd ever encountered, plus Cyborg.
"Will I lose my dignity?"
"Will someone
care?"
Beast Boy's head whipped around from speaker to
speaker, his eyes finally meeting Cyborg's non-bionic one. The
robotic teen shook his head slightly, letting Beast Boy know that he
didn't like the situation any more than he did, but there was nothing
he could do about it.
All Beast Boy seemed to be able to do was wind his stupid camera. Plasmus and Cinderblock joined in with Overload and Mumbo Jumbo, and were soon joined by the raspy voices of everyone else in the folding chair circle.
"Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?"
God, I hope so, Beast Boy thought to himself, then was horrified to hear himself echoing the others as they launched into a round. Oh, God, will the torment never end!
Then they were all joined by Roger, and as soon as they could, the three Titans jumped the first subway back home.