Mind and Body

by Rusty Thebanite

In a world where comic books chronicle real events, but are marketed as fiction, no one can tell if such things as aliens, superheroes, mutants or monsters truly exist. However, enough eyes and minds have been opened to the possibility that strange and surprising consequences begin to take hold. Can Rachel Roth survive on her own in a world defined by the unknown? Will she have to?

8. Lessons in Humility

A/N= Me: "I don't…I do…do I own it? Or don't I own it? I…. I can't even say it. I'll let Raven do the talking. Would you like to do the honors?"

Raven: "This is just a little something that all our viewers should keep in mind—NOBODY OWNS ME, DAMNIT!"

Garfield: "You can own me, Rae, ;)"

Raven: "You're a cat, that's different."

Garfield: T____T

Cael: Now, now, Raven, you shouldn't hurt him like that; kitties are cute, right Gar?"

Garfield: "HELLS YEA I—why do you feel the need to do that? Let's just move on, shall we?"

Me: "I disclaim everything except Cael and the plot. The show must go on. Also, unlike the story up 'till now, I actually tried to be funny so the flavor will be slightly different. You could say Garfield's in his element."

Mind and Body Chapter 8: Lessons in Humility

"So then," Barbara said from her wheelchair at the door, "Let's get this party started!" Dick shook his head as they went side-by-side to the Batjet in their hangar. Its sleek black curves always made him smile, but after the next 3 weeks he would probably never get the chance to see it again, let alone ride in it.

His relatively few bags were already in the small storage unit in the back, and Batman was sitting in the pilots seat, tapping impatiently at the steering console—for all the world like an anxious parent who wanted to get his son out of the house before he changed his mind. Dick slapped Jason's shoulder in a friendly manner and said "I'm expecting you to take care of Batman, you hear?"

Jason grinned "I gotcha!" he said cheerfully. "I'll make the 'Boy Wonder' even more wonderful!"

"Good!" Dick said, "But don't forget that it's still my title until they forget that part and only call me 'Robin'.

Then Alfred walked up and squeezed Dick's shoulder. "Take care, young master," he said quietly, "And be sure to keep in touch: you know the Bat Signal's frequency, so it shouldn't be that hard." He shook his graying head slightly, "It is always difficult to send off one you have raised: just don't do anything foolish like not making other friends."

Batman cleared his throat meaningfully from the cockpit "If you don't mind, this jet does not idle well."

Dick quickly turned and walked toward his ticket out of the Batcave, and Barbara rolled at his side as she said to the other two: "Don't worry! I'll keep them both in line!"

"I'm sure you will!" Jason grinned wickedly, but didn't reckon with her reaction.

"You'll keep your mind out of the gutter, Jason, or I'll hang you upside down from the tallest stalactite in here and we'll see who's the bat then!"

"Yes, Ma'am," he said weakly as the cargo bay's door closed behind the two of them.

Outside, the cliff behind the mansion opened up long enough to let the Batjet launch at ½ the speed of sound, and as the hangar door slowly closed, Alfred and Jason waved quietly.

As the Batjet leveled out and slowed down above the police station, a black-on-black shadow whipped toward them. On instinct Batman veered slightly off course, but it still struck the passenger door. Dick looked back from the copilot's seat as Barbara, her eyes alight, opened the door wide enough to get a hand through, get a grip on something while supporting herself on the handle of her wheelchair, and bring it inside while the high winds whipped around her face. Both Dick and Batman were tense until the door closed again.

"Really, Barb," Dick said painfully, "Don't you think you could have done it a little more safely?"

Ignoring him, Barbara turned to Batman with a look of surprise. "It's for you."

"What was your first hint?" Batman retorted.

Barbara's eyes went flinty, but she took a deep breath. "I thought we were over that?"

Batman rubbed one of his eyes reflexively. "Sorry," he muttered reluctantly, "You know how it is, Oracle, with my instincts."

Her mouth quirked, "Yes, I do. What I meant when I said that is that there's a message on here."

"What?" they both said in unison. "Dick, take the controls." Batman said. Dick instinctively gripped them, but he said "Wait a minute, which way is Jump City?"

"Just keep going straight," Batman said brusquely as he unclipped his safety harness and moved back to see what was in Barbara's hand.

As he trained his eyes to the front and activated the radar cloak above a small town some 300 miles from Gotham, Dick couldn't help but grumble. "Even half-an-hour before we get to where I will no longer be a sidekick, and he's still treating me like a child."

Behind him, Barbara handed an amusing version of his own Batarang to the Batman. This one seemed to only be the head, yet magnified by many times, and instead of wings there were three stiletto-like protrusions on either side. Batman shook his head in disbelief: a cat's head? That woman was getting more blatant than usual. Where was her normal sneaky side? Wasn't that enough "cat" for her?

Then he saw the message, and for the first time in his long career, his Batman side smiled as widely as his Bruce side did.

First of all, don't think I'm making a habit of this: I made this pretty little shuriken (so much better than yours, by the way) especially for this occasion.

I'm not gonna see your little friends again, (much better that way, don't they interfere way too much?) but when you come back, you would be interested to know that the musical Cats is coming to town.

I personally loathe the thing—they don't give the cats respect at all—but if you're there you might have a little fun running down the Catty Lady who absconds with their entire net savings on the final day of their performance.

Is it a Date?

S. K.

And underneath the initials, there was a cat's paw.

Batman sighed, "If word of this gets to the copilot's seat," he whispered to Barbara, "I'll never forgive you."

"I heard that!" Dick said.

Raven looked around as they arrived in yet another town. She sighed and said, "Just how long does it take to get to Jump City?" She skimmed the thought from Cael quickly and groaned. "You have got to be kidding me: a month? I thought we were going to be able to catch it."

Cael sighed heavily as Garfield shook his head. "Raven," Cael said calmly, "You've relied on your own power so much lately, that you've forgotten to use logic."

"….You're right, aren't you?" Raven said, flushing, "Have I been an idiot?"

Just a little bit, Garfield thought as they passed a punk with Liberty Spikes, and don't say this out loud, but that guy is far worse. Lime Green? Might as well dye your skin orange. Only an alien would think it looks good.

As they left the town, Raven calmed down. "I hate metropolises," she said irritably as the highway stretched off to their right, "the mass of minds makes me act like some sort of combo-platter being with so many psyches imposing on me." She shifted her attention to Cael and continued darkly, "And I hate not having a car even more."

"Hey," Cael said, "I had to sell the Sedona for enough money just to eat right after you cut my performance short. It's only because you were impatient that we're walking."

"Shut up, I could hear your thoughts."

"What does that mean?"

Garfield butted in at that point. "Hey guys look there." A rusted out pick-up was sitting among the tall grasses on their side of the road.

"Oh no," Rachel said angrily as Cael stared in disbelief, "No way am I fixing that thing: it'll fall apart again the next instant."

"Aw man," Garfield said, "can we at least see if there's a Habachi Grill in the back?"

"You listen to too much Jeff Foxworthy," Raven said menacingly, "One more 'you might be a redneck if' from you and I'll wring your little Red Neck to within an inch of your life." Then she corrected herself, "Even if it is green."

"Okay, okay," Garfield said nervously, "I understand. Maybe just one that I thought up?"

"Fine, but that's the last!"

"You always say that," Cael said with a chuckle.

"Ahem," Garfield said, "Excuse me, but the Maestro's working here." Ignoring Cael, he thought for a while. "What was it again?" he said after a minute.

"Just get it over with, you little beast!" Raven said in a bit of pain.

"But I'm a real boy!" Garfield shot back with his tongue in his cheek.

"Please!" Raven said, starting to cry a little in frustration, "Just end the movie quotes, finish your little joke and shut up for a couple hundred miles!"

"Oh, right," Garfield said after a moment, "Well, it goes like this: 'You might be a Redneck if…the first thing you think of at a dinosaur dig is Baby Back Ribs! Huh? What do you think?"

Raven slumped her shoulders in defeat. "It's horrible, like all your jokes have been since you learned to speak English."

Garfield pouted at that from Raven's second hood, but shut up. For a couple feet. "Hmm. Beast? Or Boy? Hey, I think I figured out a code name for myself!"

Suddenly, Raven was interested. "Really? What is it?"

"'Beast Boy'!"

She thought it over for a second. "Um, isn't it impossible for you to take the form of a human?"

"Well…." He said slowly, "It sounds cool, doesn't it?"

Raven sighed and smiled. "All right then, Beast Boy it is."

A week before, Batman had flown back to Gotham. After all, the city couldn't survive long without him around, but being away from his mentor and guardian for the first time in a decade was quite strange for Dick.

The temporary house they had rented for the interviews was a large, impersonal and rather bleak place with what he supposed were sophisticated carvings on the Roman-style front porch. It looked nice, he thought, but it lacked personality.

Of course he freely admitted this to Barbara over breakfast, as well as the fact that he would probably think of "personality" as a couple cat-claw marks on those pretty carvings, or a series of punctures in the drywall from practicing the Batarang.

"So, uh, Barb," he said as he drank some orange juice, "Just how are we doing this?"

Barbara smiled slyly, "We get the reception spruced up, and open our doors at 10 o-clock. And don't forget, while we are in this city we must use our code names only: our identities have leaked slightly in Gotham, but Jump is a fresh start. We must make sure that they stay ignorant."

"Right," Robin sighed, then he glanced at the time. "Ack!" he said, a startled expression appearing on his face, "It's already 9:45! We only have 15—", Suddenly Oracle burst out laughing around a mouthful of toast.

"Don't be silly," she said cheerfully, "It's 10-o-clock PM!"

He blankly stared at her and then grinned in relief. "Thank God, I thought the whole thing was ruined." He relaxed and dug into his pocket for a copy of the poster. "I'm just checking it again," he said when Oracle stared at him oddly. However, when he scanned it, he grew worried again, "Hey, Oracle," he said slowly, "this thing says 'any time', it also says 'we advise you to get here as early as possible'. Doesn't that mean they could be outside the door right now?"

Oracle furrowed her brow at him disapprovingly, but took the poster from him. After a moment her eyes widened and blinked a couple times. Then she said "Shit," around the piece of toast hanging from her mouth, "You're right, Rob, that could be frustrating."

He couldn't help but smirk. "I know I'm right: I usually am." He ducked as Oracle chucked her other piece of toast at him. "C'mon, Or," he said teasingly, "Is your aim off?" the bowl of fruit, however, came as he was straightening up so after the ceramic dish hit him in the face and landed upside down in his hair he found himself wearing peaches and blueberries on his head.

"What was that about my aim?" she said with her arms crossed, "And you're lucky I don't eat oatmeal."

Robin slowly flushed and dragged the remnants of Oracle's breakfast off of his face. The silence stretched for a while. "Sorry," Robin said, and Oracle smiled.

"Well isn't that sweet," a cocky African voice said out of nowhere.

Instantly Oracle's left hand went to a concealed button on the underside of her armrest, and Robin sprang to his feet, whipping out a batarang. "Who's there?!" he shouted, "Show yourself!"

"Geez," the voice said again, "Are all male superheroes as tense as you?" Then the source of the voice seemingly grew into being right in front of the two of them. She was quite a shapely woman, dressed in yellow and black sweats. She also had a pair of wings on her back, with which she was hovering perhaps six inches above their breakfast.

After she achieved a more standard size she touched down lightly on the mahogany tabletop. Seeing that she hadn't incited anything other than the initial reactions, she pouted and sat down next to their pitcher of orange juice. "I'm a prospective member of your team, of course," She said mockingly, "and you people aren't very specific about time, are you?" Before either could reply she continued. "A large group of this came together with that very thought, in fact, and decided to send one of them on their own to explain. I got the short straw."

She lightly landed on the floor and turned to Robin, totally ignoring Oracle. "A group of 30 will be coming together, Pretty Boy, so I suggest you be ready. Oh, and I overheard that time you mentioned: we'll be sure to get here by then." And with that she turned, shrank again, and started to fly off. "Just a second!" Oracle said sharply with her hand in front of her and the toast now on her plate, "Before you go, miss, I would like to know who you are."

The black woman looked at her sharply. "You want to know my name?"

"No," Oracle shook her head, "I want to know your codename."

"Ah," she said happily, "That one is easy: it's Bumblebee." And so she buzzed to the roof, paused, and launched a bolt of electricity at their table before zinging away into the distance.

They both stared angrily at the large scorch mark lying next to Robin's scrambled eggs. "Well," Robin said after a minute, "I can't say this place doesn't have personality anymore."

It was now a full 12 hours later, and the two of them felt that the site of the recruitment was going to be perfect. It was stripped down to the essentials: dozens of chairs for those not being interviewed to sit in. That was all. However, the chairs that they found all over the house was extremely fancy. Cherry wood frames with detailed carvings of animals, and plush red velvet cushions now decorated the immense reception hall.

"I wish they'd arrive already," said Robin, who was in his full get-up and leaning on the wall to the left of the door. "I'd like to get this done as soon as possible."

Oracle shook her head from her position 6 feet from and facing the same door. "It's not that simple, Rob, we have to know the reason they're trying to join, we have to see what their powers are, we have to see if they can stand the kind of characters that they'll be living with if they succeed: there's dozens of little things you have to pay attention to when assembling a potentially elite team of law-enforcers."

Robin stared at her, his face paling, "Um, run this by me again: dozens of factors needed…and not ONE of them mentioned to me?"

Oracle sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Didn't you look at the instruction booklet I gave you two weeks ago?"

"Um…," he said slowly, "I might have looked at it…once…on the weekend…maybe. I skimmed it…I'm pretty sure."

"Geez, Rob, I gave that to you for a reason: it's too much to fit into a conversation."

"Oh come on, Or," he said uncomfortably, "You know I had other things on my mind."

She crossed her arms over her chest and sharply turned her head away from him, pouting. "Like what, a girlfriend?"

Robin blinked, "Ah, Or, I never said anything about a girlfriend. But since you ask, no: I had a dream last night."

"Ah," Oracle said sarcastically, "Of course, such an unique occurrance is bound to distract you."

"No, seriously," Robin said with a frown, "This dream was different—well, not too different, since I've lately had similar dreams, but before they started my dreams were nothing like this."

Oracle reluctantly turned her head, and before her face went back to its usual, slightly-distant-but-friendly expression, Robin thought he saw a little bit of insecurity. Yeah right, he thought, I must be seeing things. "Is that so?" she said quietly, "Do you…you know…want to talk about it?"

Robin smiled slightly; she really knew him well. "Sure," he said, before diving into it directly, "Every night now, for a couple of weeks I've had dreams that seem to happen sequentially. In them I'm a girl, and I'm speaking a language that I shouldn't understand yet I do. And it's in a spaceship of all things."

Oracle scratched her cheek, "I'd say you were cracking up if you weren't taking this so well. I guess this started that night you woke up screaming?"

"And 'Batman' became 'Bruce' without changing costumes?" Robin laughed at the memory, "Yeah, that's the one. Anyway, last night I had it again, but in it I escaped—,"

Oracle interrupted him again, "If I were a psychologist I'd say this dream symbolized how you felt trapped by Batman, and that the escape from the spaceship symbolized your breaking out on your own."

"It's more than that," Robin said angrily, "it's so vivid it might as well actually be happening—"

"In a figurative sense, it is," Oracle said, smiling.

"Would you PLEASE stop interrupting me?" Robin said in exasperation.

"Right, sure."

"As I was saying, before last night it never even left the cell. But this time, not only did it go into the corridors, but it even went into space…without an escape pod."

"You must have woken up from asphyxiation," Oracle said, her tongue in her cheek.

"It's not funny!" Robin shouted, much to her astonishment.

"Sorry," she said quietly, "It's not like I'm trying to demean you: I just think you should forget what happened in dreamland and focus on what's happening in the real world. Right here, and right now is what needs our attention."

"You're right," Robin sighed, "I should put it into the back of my mind.

Oracle brightened up considerably. "And you know how good you are at that!" she said in a sing-song voice, "Seriously, both absent-minded and color-blind: what a combination."

"Color blind!?" Robin shouted, "Are you implying that my uniform isn't awesome?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" she shouted with a laugh. then everything stopped as the doorbell rang. The two of them stared at each other until it rang again.

"You…want to get it?" Robin said in a whisper,

"No, I think you should." She whispered back.

"Fine," he said with a shrug, not wanting to get into another argument.

When he opened the ancient, wooden doors, he was shocked. There were a full 60 people waiting outside the door. "What happened to 'on the down-low?' he whispered to Oracle, who was just as surprised.

"Don't ask me," she whispered back, "Just ask that peeping tomboy Bumblebee: she better have an explanation for this."

"Hey, Rob!" the same cocky voice from before rang out. Speak of the devil, Robin thought as Bumblebee pushed her way to the front with two other people.

One of them was a black man with no hair whatsoever, but he was built well enough. He wore what looked like an asbestos body suit—with a retro-Elizabethan collar—that was black with red letters from The Lord of the Rings written down both sides. "Quite a turn-out for that 'personal costume party' you set up, huh?" Bumblebee shouted happily.

Both Oracle and Robin blinked, Oh, they thought in unison, Hiding in plain sight, huh? She's pretty smart after all.

"Well I didn't expect this much of a turn-out," Oracle said immediately, hoping to get the most tedious part of the interviews over with in one shot, "Why don't you all come in and introduce us to your friends?"

Bumblebee grinned: clearly she could tell that the excuse was received with gratitude. Every one of the wacky-dressed individuals poured into the reception.

Pointing to the black man they had noticed earlier, Bumblebee started to talk again. "My friend here is Hotshot—"

"That's Hotspot, short-stuff," he growled, "And in case you don't want to be the main course at tonight's barbecue, you'll remember it."

"Right," Bumblebee said casually, "That's if you could catch me: besides, who eats Grilled Bumblebee? But that's besides the point: my other friend here goes by Argent: her skin is silver, as you can see." Indeed, the woman was shining in the light of the lamps. When she spoke, her cool English accent came as a surprise.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Boy Wonder," she said with a curtsy.

"Uh, sure," Robin said, trying to avoid watching the many parts that were barely concealed by her dress and not see Oracle's expression. "But how did you know about us, when you live in the UK?"

"London, my dear boy," she said with an overly saccharine smile, "London. And the prodigal apprentice and his mentor, Batman, are known all over the world. I have long been an admirer of your work in the cesspool of Jump City."

"Yeah," Robin said, geez, stalker much? He thought, "Glad to meet you…but flattery won't get you anywhere: we have to know the personality and powers of everyone in this room before we know who would be best for this team."

Another man strolled over at that moment. "Excuse me, but I have a question."

"Yes?" Robin said, a little worried. The man had the face of a petty crook: his nose was a little long, and his eyes were close-set, beady, and a watery-blue. It seemed like he was the kind who would try anything to have a better life. His tan suit seemed to be a look-alike of Elvis's legendary getup, but his stringy torso (that was also painfully hairless) made it look downright creepy. Of course the giant, black, notched lapel didn't help: it only made his immaturity more obvious. In addition, he had a simple, black blindfold with eyeholes for a mask and both black gloves and boots.

"Is yours the only one whose spot is filled? Or is the lovely lady next to you already part of it as well?"

"As the poster said," Oracle said stiffly, "Only the leader's spot has been filled."

"Oh," He said, "All right then: I was only worried because I doubted someone in a wheelchair could be much support for a team of fighters."

All five of the people he was talking to were instantly pissed off. Hotspot cocked a fist at his right side; ready to let fly, but Argent stopped him with a discreet hand on his arm.

Oracle drew herself up as straight as possible. Uh oh, Robin thought with a grin, this is gonna be good: she's rarely this angry. "I see," she said quietly, "Clearly one as immature and narrow-minded as yourself doesn't have even a fraction of the common sense necessary to see that all types are necessary: fighting is only the most obvious facet of a team, little boy, and even without that experience makes up for everything. And experience, my idiotic friend, is the one thing you will always lack, along with fashion sense and logic."

The man stared at her in disbelief, "Now see here, I—."

"Ah, ah, ah," she said mockingly, shaking one slender finger from side to side in his face, "Settle down, child, and listen to the teacher when she's talking: perhaps you'll learn something for once." As the man began to grind his teeth and everyone else gave her their undivided attention, Oracle continued, "Besides the battle, a superhero must have compassion for others, and the want to protect those that cannot protect themselves: humanity is the most valuable thing a metahuman can possess. In addition a superhero must have experience in tactics, strategy, fighting those more powerful than themselves, cooking, first aid, respect, discerning whether the crime warrants the punishment, the ability to analyze a situation and use it to prevent as many deaths as possible; they must be able to adapt to adversity and compensate for their own shortcomings; they must be able to rely on others and let others rely on them, they must be able to shoulder other peoples burdens and go on with life shouldering new ones. They must understand the enemy so that the correct punishment can be meted out; they must be able to freely forgive their enemies so that those enemies can follow their corrections and turn away from evil; they must, above all, be able to gather information in order to track down the master criminals. Oh, isn't that a coincidence; I happen to be the world's foremost authority on just that!

"Can you do any of that? I think not, child, and it is clear that you do not want to. So what name do you go by?"

Angered, but unable to lash out at this…this woman, the man instead answered her question. "My codename…is Quill. And my current real name is Ethan."

"Very well, then, Ethan," Oracle said coldly with a slight inclination of the head as if she were the matron of a Roman family, "I think this interview is over: don't bother coming back, because we all know you didn't qualify. But remember, turn your back on crime and you still might make it as a hero."

Ethan's shoulders slumped as he slogged his way back to the front door.

A midget in green coveralls and a high-tech backpack said to his friends in a loud whisper, "Geez, check out the expression on Crudwad's face over there, Kyd: haha, wuss. He'd never make it as a super-anything. We don't even know what his power is." He laughed along with his friends, one of which wore an odd helmet that only showed one large eye in the center, another who looked like the bastard son of a Mammoth and a Gorilla, a girl with pink devil's horns for hair, and a boy with a black, silver and purple body suit that included a full mask and seemingly-wind-swept hair.

Ethan hunched his shoulders and said, "What did you just say?"

"Gee," the boy said, "I don't know: what do you think I said, Mammoth?"

"Uhh," the monster behind him said, "Umm, didn't you say he was a Crudwad?"

The pink-haired girl shook her head as the midget hit his own forehead. "Don't let it get to you, Gizmo, Mammoth has always been that way, and you can't cure stupid…right, Seemore?"

"That's right," the oddly-helmeted boy grinned as he nodded his head in agreement, "But even dumbo here wasn't stupid enough to bad mouth the hostess. Right, Mammoth?"

Mammoth nodded dully with a smile: "My mommy said I had to be polite."

Ethan snapped. He whipped around to his left with a screech and put his left arm against his chest. As he finished the turn he used his momentum to aid the launch of a dozen keratin spears. Their speed was remarkable; in the blink of an eye, they had all spanned the 60' room to lodge in Mammoth's arms and chest.

With a roar, Mammoth charged as he pulled out the spikes in his arm. "Mammoth…don't…like…giant needles!" he covered the distance in a rather short time as both Robin and Oracle tried to stop the fight. But it had already gone too far: Ethan slid under his legs and grabbed his ankles in passing, sending small slivers of bone into Mammoth's flesh and knocking him down to the ground.

Mammoth rolled onto his back as Ethan leaned over him. Suddenly one of the beast's giant fists was in Ethan's face, but just as quickly a shell of bone covered that half of his face. For a moment, time stood still…then a blast of what seemed to be pure sound plowed through the doorway and hit Ethan in the side, catching him unawares.

The blast lifted Ethan off his feet and threw him across the room to land on the ground at Oracle's feet. Soon a large, half-metal black man climbed through the hole the sonic blast had opened. Ethan weakly sat up and stared at the apparition. "Dammit," he said weakly, "Not you, again, Cyborg."

"I don't give up, Quill." Cyborg said darkly.

"If you want him, you can have him," Robin said flately, "but please, don't destroy anything else."

Cyborg smiled. "Oh don't worry; the only other thing around here that I want to break is you."

A vein in Robin's forehead twitched. "Is that so?" he said slowly, "And why, may I ask, would you want to do that?"

Cyborg snorted and held up one of the posters. "What do you think? Do you believe that I would sit back while a stranger sets up shop in my backyard? I'm supposed to protect Jump City: not YOU."

At this point, Ethan tried to creep away, but immediately another blast came from Cyborg's left arm, stopping him in his tracks, and Robin quickly tied him up. Then they glared at each other. "Don't interrupt my work." They both said at the same time, and Ethan fainted from fright. The discharge from his eyes and nose wasn't very pleasant.

Oracle smiled softly and nestled her chin in her hand as she watched the two opposites stare at each other from across the room. Obviously they had found their first teammate; now came the difficult part: convincing Robin that this was so.

"Come on, guys," new voice said quietly from the corner, and they both whipped around to see what seemed to be a blond version of Robin, but with a better hair cut and a quiver of arrows on his back leaning against the wall. "I mean, geez, aren't we supposed to be interviewed right now?"

"Interviewed?" another voice said shakily, "How can you think about that right now? I'm not staying around to see how this ends up: good bye!" and a pudgy boy suddenly quick-stepped out the smashed door."

The boy shook his head until another voice suddenly spoke up. "He really is a coward: danger will always be part of the job." This time the speaker was a long, black-haired young man with pale skin and an aquiline nose. His sea-blue eyes sparkled as he turned to the previous speaker and said, "Who are you, anyway?"

He shrugged and said, "My code name is Speedy. Yours?"

"Mine's Aqualad: nice to meet you."

At that point, the rest of the visitors started to dribble away until all that was left was the tethered, Ethan, the group of five that had pissed Ethan off in the first place, Speedy, Aqulad, Bumblebee's trio, Cyborg and the hosts.

"No point in staying here now," the pink-haired girl said to her friends: we're obviously not welcome. Come on, boys."

"Yes ma'am, miss Jinx," Gizmo said immediately, and the group casually strolled out of the demolished door.

"Well would you look at that," Robin muttered, "Someone the green termite doesn't insult: she must be dangerous."

"She was the politest one out of the five," Oracle said, "But like they say: 'it's always the quiet ones'. I think that one called Kyd might turn out to be the wild card of that little group."

Aqualad then strolled up, interrupting Cyborg's attempt to return to the first subgect. "I've decided that I wouldn't be a good addition to your group," he said to Robin, "Besides, I usually work alone except for Tramm."

Speedy looked at him curiously as he strolled over to join them, "Who's Tramm?"

"Oh," Aqualad said, "He's a friend: a Fish-boy I rescued some years back. He hasn't left my side since."

Speedy scratched his head, "You know," he said lightly, "I'd like to meet this fish-boy of yours."

"Sure," Aqualad shrugged his willingness, "But didn't you want to join this Teen Titans team?"

"It's not exactly my style." Speedy said with a grin, "I think the stuff that applies to the fighting is great, but the rest is just tedious self-justification to me."

With smiles and nods to the host and hostess, the odd pair also took their leave.

"So…." Robin said angrily, "That makes the only people here me, Oracle, Bumblebee and her friends…Ethan…and you." He stared accusingly at Cyborg. "Are you happy? You've ruined all chances of me getting a team in this town, and the instant I publish the new area I'll be recruiting in, they'll start searching for the reason I changed sites. Teen Titans is a bust because of you."

Bumblebee, Argent and Hotspot took that moment to vacate the premises.

"And that's just the way I like it," Cyborg said with a smile as he swung the trussed-up Ethan over his shoulder. Then Robin noticed him start to stare at Oracle. He half-turned and saw Oracle staring back at Cyborg with an intense gaze and a small, almost cocky smile on her lips. Sensing her thought, Robin whipped around to look at Cyborg again and started to smile as well.

Cyborg started to back away as the ramfications of his interruption started to crash in upon him. "You know," Robin said slowly, "If you wanted to continue defending Jump City, you could have just gone through with the audition."

"Oh no," Cyborg said in fright, "I am not joining up with you for something like this; I can handle Jump City on my own: especially now that I've succeeded in making my Sonic Cannon."

"Are you sure?" Oracle said invitingly, "We do have the financial backing of Wayne Enterprises."

Cyborg's organic eye widened. "Seriously?" he whispered, "You have the backing of the most futuristic tech company in the world? And I could use their stuff if I joined?"

"I don't see why not," Oracle said casually, "Bruce does have a personal interest in the formation of this team."

Cyborg quickly turned his back and started to leave. When he was a couple feet away from the door he stopped, hesitated, and turned back slightly.

"I'll think about it," was all he said before he disappeared into the night with his odd baggage on his shoulder.

A/N: I think it's about time I acknowledged at least one of those excellent people reviewing my stories. Guifi, you reviewed each of my earlier chapters, and gave me excellent encouragement: Arigato! However…you've kinda stopped reviewing…are you not reading it anymore? Thanks to Somewhere in Time as well: even though you thought that I'd stopped updating, you still came back to see my baby again. Being re-readable is even better than being read one time only…even with the highest compliments!