Chase Twain liked to think of himself as a decent man. He didn't do drugs, nor did he drink alcohol, and he had been told more than once that he had am amazing personality. He didn't get angry easily and he never allowed himself to judge others because of their looks. He was a bit of a flirt, but he figured there had to be something wrong with him.

He knew he was far from perfect, but this was fine with him. He didn't need the pressure of doing everything right. He had a B average in almost all classes, a few string of A's, carried four years of high school football under his belt (first string defensive lineman, every time) and had an amazing family—that is, if he overlooked his bipolar mother. He had his bad moments, of course, had dealt with stress and pain, but somehow managed to come out of it better.

Memories of the past haunted him, but he refused to let anyone know of his sorrow, for he couldn't stand other to see him so down. In public, he was outgoing and kind, mingling with anyone who happened to look at him, regardless of how others classed them. At home, when no one was around, he let his guard drop and tried desperately to stop the pain in his heart at past occurrences.

He admitted that he was a horrible womanizer, but he never purposely hurt them. He stayed in a few relationships, was completely faithful, and when it came time to end it, he gave them fair warning and kind words. He wasn't very fond of relationships, however, for he did not like to be tied down to anyone. All women he had been previously involved with knew of his preference to stay single, but never minded. There were those slight few who would not accept this and tried to wrangle him down, but had been unsuccessful as of yet.

Chase was content with his existence. He understood where his place was in life, was proud of the family who had raised him. His siblings were his life, even if his oldest brother did greet him with bruises and random noogies when he came home from college.

As he grabbed his car keys from the glass bowl on the wooden table beside the front door, he mused that he was lucky to have such a simple life. It was far from normal (especially considering he was in league with the most amazing group of teenage superheroes to ever grace the planet), but hey, it added suspense and a helpful dose of mystery.

He hopped contentedly down the stone stairs leading to the front yard, eyes instantly drilling onto his favored car. It was a classic, a sleek black 2007 mustang, custom built with the best stereo system he could afford on his wage. Raven Logan paid her employees well, even if he was just a stage-manager for The Raven's main attraction. It was her daughter, Grey Logan, that made it possible for him to earn so much, he admitted as he climbed into his baby. She had a voice that was almost too beautiful to listen to. It was a gorgeous alto that had a range from hell. She could use it to do any type of song: County, Rock, Opera (she only did that to annoy her brothers and Shia, who hated high pitched sounds) but her favorite was soft, dark mellow tunes. She was a musical genius, as well. She wrote her own music, played her own songs on piano, and was known to come up with at least two songs every week.

So, in a way, it was Grey who helped earn his car, though he wouldn't admit it aloud. This car was the one thing he could really call his own. He paid for everything, including gas and insurances. His father, the amazing ass he was, was right when he forced his son to take care of himself. It made him feel accomplished, to know that he could pay for his own car with his own money. It helped that he had a job that he loved, even if part of it was being a busboy and wiping down the booths.

Chase was flipping through songs on his stereo's hard-drive when his identical twin opened the door, followed closely by his two younger siblings. Cam threw him an apologetic look at him when Caden roughly shoved his sister into the backseat. "Sorry," he mumbled, his voice as deep as his twin. "Connor's coming in today and mom's making a mad dash to clean up the house, though it won't do much, considering we live with Dad."

Colt scowled when his baby sister accidentally shoved her elbow into his skull while trying to regain her balance. "Oye, Smallfry, watch it. You'll mess up the do." For good measure, he dramatically patted his blonde spikes.

Cleo paused to throw her brother a droll glare that had him laughing. "Hey, it's better than that mop you call hair," he added with an adorable smirk.

She scowled, throwing her tiny body against the seat and reaching up to stroke her long braid. "You only wish you could have this, Chase." She turned fiery black eyes to thirteen year old Caden. "And you. Push me again and I'll make sure that the entire world knows you have an obsession with Talon Davis." She picked at her cuticle offhandedly as her brother blushed and sputtered next to her.

"Though I will never understand what you see in the little blonde demon," Chase muttered as Cameron snickered beside him. "She's a freaking wild child. I never have seen anyone cause so much pandemonium. She is the only girl I have ever met who will literally jump you and sink her little fangs into you. Not even Grey does that, and she's a freaking shape shifter."

"Hey, guess what?" Cleo asked, poking her head between the seats and ignoring the sharp tugs on her braid from her wide-eyed brother. "Did you know that Mom found them making out last night—"

"Cleo!" Cade grabbed the back of her shirt, bodily jerking her back against the seats as she yelped in surprise. Cam and Chase exchanged bewildered looks, black eyes wide with surprise and wide mouth's parted.

"What? You made out with spitfire Talon and she let you?" Chase managed to ask around the hysterical laughter that tickled the back of his throat. "And I didn't know about this? How did you manage that?"

Blood burning beneath his skin, Caden leaned back against the leather seats with a demonic scowl; lanky shoulders bowing forward in his trademark sign of fury. "First off, Cleo, you damn tattletale, it's none of your damn business what I do, and the next time you run off and tell Mom a damn thing about what Tally and I do while hiding in my closet, I'll tell them about the little kiss you stole from Cody Matthews while no one was looking and then hold it over your head for the rest of your life because you annoy me."

Normally, Chase would have scolded him from using his favorite word so many times in one run on sentence but this new juicy gossip about his younger siblings was too heady to pass up. "Wait, Munchkins. Hold on and start from the beginning. Okay, Cade first, because we all knew this would happen sooner or later. You made out with Talon…at fourteen…and Mom found you and you're not dead?" This did not make any sense. When Katelynn found him lip locked with his first girl, he had suffered from a knot on the head for weeks.

Chase flinched at the memory, hand reaching up to rub the phantom pain it brought on. But that was nothing compared to the time she found him experiencing his first time with Dana Wyatts in The Raven's store room…

He jerked out of his painful memory when Cade snapped, "I did not make out with her. It was a kiss, that's all."

Bubbling with excitement, Cleo popped up again, black eyes bright with energy. "Oh, it was more than that. She said you should try adding your tongue this time—"

"For the love of God, shut up you little monster!" Cade slapped a hand of her mouth while his eyes darted to his older brothers. "Don't listen to her, she's crazy—yeouch!" With a yelp, Caden jerked his hand away from her sharp teeth, gingerly rubbing the reddening marks.

"This time?" The twins echoed, eyebrows arching into their hairline.

"Yep, yep, yep. She said she saw Cameron and Adara going at it when they thought no one was around and said it looked kinda interesting and—"

Chase guffawed as his twin flamed red. "S-she saw us? W-when did this happen? That was…all she saw, right?" Cameron groaned when Cleo gave a swift shake of her head and chirped, "No, she said that all she could see was their faces because he was real close to her with her legs wrapped around his hips and that he was moving really fast against her—"

"Chase, drive, we'll be late for school." Cameron slouched down in his seat as Caden thanked God for being jerked off the hot seat and letting Cam have a shot at it. After all, he had just made out with Talon. His brother had been caught having sex with his girlfriend by said girl and having his gossipmonger sister hear it.

"Cleo, if you ever tell anyone about that I will personally toss you into a closet and throw away the key."

She blinked innocently as she reached a slim arm forward to turn up the music. The hard beat of Korn pounded through the air as Chase pulled out of the driveway.

"Come now, let's hear about this little kiss you had with Cody." Chase bit the inside of his lip to stop the grin that threatened to bloom when she moved back slowly, face heating.

"It…was nothing, really. Just a kiss, is all."

"You're eleven."

"So? There are kids at my school who are already thinking about sex and stuff. I know one girl who is already pregnant. She's only two years older than me, too."

This time it was Caden who popped forward, mouth twisting in a sadistic grin. "See? Cleo's already planning on buying her first box of condoms and you're worried about me."

"What?" Since he was driving, it was Cam who twisted around in his seat to pin a deadly glare at the wide-eyed eleven year old.

"Whoa-ho-ho, now, let's not jump to conclusions. I kissed him once. It wasn't even that long, and believe me, there was no tongue at all. I just thought it would be nice to have my first kiss be with him, and I knew I would have to do it 'cause he's so shy and all. I'm not thinking about that. Gawd, you perverts. Always thinking nasty while I think innocently. Tch," she muttered, arms crossing over her adolescent chest. "'Sides," she added when Cam gave a final glare and settled back in his seat, "Ada said that if I even thought about sex, she'd murder me and no one would find my body…" Cleo frowned slightly. "Come to think of it, everyone seems to be threatening me…"

"The only superhero girl whose had sex and she's telling you to stay away from temptation," Chase said thoughtfully as he merged with the morning traffic. "And she's sleeping with your brother, nonetheless. Gotta give the girl props, though."

Her uneasiness quelled, Cleo shoved her brother out of the way to slide her head between them again. "Yeah, she said that she didn't regret having sex, and she said that she knew Cameron was the one and it was gonna happen away, but she said that Grey was right in telling all the girls to wait until marriage 'cause she said that it was more special if your husband gets it than some other dude."

"You're girl has a good head on her shoulders, considering she is with you." Chase chuckled when Cam smacked his arm. "Hey, now, I'm driving. If you make me wreck, I will woo your girl away from you."

Cameron snorted, fully aware that if he tried, he would probably be successful. He wasn't worried, one because Ada had made it perfectly clear to him that she never thought about being with anyone else, and secondly because his brother would never stoop so low as to take his girl away. Besides, Chase was too busy trying to decipher his feelings for her sister.

"So, you still in denial about Dahlia?" Cameron didn't miss the way his brother's broad shoulder's stiffened or the gray tint of hesitance that fogged his black eyes.

"Denial about what? There's nothing between her and me besides animosity." His big hands tightened over the wheel, the knuckles turning a faded white. "Dahlia would rather use me as a target board than even look at me."

"Not necessarily. I mean, yeah, you two are constantly at it with the taunts and insults, and sure, she does tend to target you when Robin has us play dodge-ball to hone our agility, but look at Shia and Grey. They're like that with each other. Save they're not as violent. By the way, how's that bruise?"

Chase scowled, eyes briefly fluttering to his jean-clad hip. Beneath the material, a nasty yellow bruise bloomed across the tan skin. "Hurts like a bitch, but it's healing."

Cameron glanced out the window to try to mask his grin. "She did pop you hard with that dodge-ball."

Mood souring, Chase flipped through the songs until he landed on one that matched his mood. Above the dark lyrics of Killswitch Engage's "When Darkness Falls", he said sulkily, "Those damn padded balls are useless when in the hands of a moody Tameranian."

"At least Kira didn't hit you. Now she hurts, though it's sort of worth it when she immediately goes to make sure she didn't break anything. Heh, Dante's face gets me every time. He doesn't know whether to push her off or purr as she runs her fingers over the bruise."

Momentarily forgetting about the one confusion in his life, Chase snickered. "Yep. He has it bad, trying to figure if he's annoyed with her or if he wants to cart her off into a different room and take her."

"Betcha it's the latter."

Chase turned into the school parking lot, idly lifting a hand when a group of girls called out his name. "You ever think he'll screw the fact that she's a virgin and just take her?"

"I don't know. Dante's…complex, no matter how simple he swears his life is. She confuses him more than anyone and it drives him insane. Sometimes I think he's in love with her, and then he goes off and makes it seem like she's just another human in his little world."

Chase slid his car between two sleek cars, both brand new and reeking of money. His was an eyesore compared to the 2023 models, but he was content with this, for it made his little mustang all the more unique. "He's going to be real sorry when Stevens finally get his claws into her and take it for himself. Wonder how he'll react to our little Virgin Goddess giving that up to someone like him." His eyes slipped over the crowd that mingled around the Jump City High School courtyard before his eyes softened. "Speak of the devil," he said with a grin before bounding off toward said girl, who had just climbed out of the monstrosity that was the carpool for the Titans.

Kiranne barely had time to let both feet touch the ground before Chase stepped into her line of view and lifted her into their customary hug. He kissed the top of her head gently. "How's our little Virgin Goddess doing?"

And as always, she blushed at the nickname. "I…good," she said with a soft smile, and Chase swore his heart melted in his chest. No matter how much he thought about it, he was madly in love with Kira. There was nothing romantic about it, and Chase could never think of doing anything other than hugging her, but Kira had grabbed hold of his heart along time ago. There was something about her that made him feel light, which made his entire day brighter just with a small tip of her mouth or shy flutter of eyelashes. She was, he knew, the only reason why the past didn't drag him under and bury him beneath sharp tendril of sorrow.

He smiled as Dante moved beside them with a bored yawn. Despite his lazy posture, however, something dark flashed in his violet eyes. "You really need to find a new nickname, Chase. Virgin Goddess isn't something you want to call out for everyone to hear."

Chase watched the blush creep up her neck as she dipped her forehead against his chest. "Awh, come on. Kira doesn't mind, do you? 'Sides, it is the perfect name for her. She's the epitome of all that is good in this world." He gave a dramatic sigh. "Who knows what the world comes to when Stevens gets her."

Deftly, he slipped a muscled arm around her waist and pulled her toward the three story school building, deftly ignoring the furious aura that suddenly licked at Dante in angry flames. "I just might have to snatch you up before he gets a chance," he added loudly, making damn sure Dante heard.

"Touch her and I will gladly rip you to shreds, Twain."

The familiar heat slipped down his torso as he turned to Dahlia, arm still secured around her sister, who was wringing her slim hands together in embarrassment. He swore he could feel the blush spread over her back as he angled his head. "Jealous, are we?"

"Of you? Hardly. But I won't have you tainting my sister with your body." Her green eyes were as composed as usual as a smirk danced across her wide mouth. "There's no reason to punish the poor girl."

"Oh, you wound me with your callous words," he gasped melodramatically, the back of his hand splayed over his tan forehead. "How shall I ever recover?"

"Speaking of," she said slowly, reaching out her arm and wrapping her hand around his bicep to keep him from leaving. "How's the war wound?"

Kira gracefully wiggled out of his grasp as Dahlia stood before him, her eyes nearly level with his. She pulled back slightly to run her eyes down his covered torso. "
It's fine," he said cautiously, perfectly aware of the fact that Dahlia didn't ask about healing wounds unless she was ready to add another one.

Her eyes lifted to his and his heart dropped at the very sultry, very malicious glint that colored them a bright bottle green. "Really? You wouldn't be lying to me, would you?"

Chase blinked down at her as she jerked his shirt from his pants and lifted it high to inspect the bruise. "Hmm," she said dryly as the group of girl he had waved to earlier stopped to gawk. "Nasty looking, isn't it?"

He was too busy fighting back a blush to care about the giggles irrupting around him. "Yeah, almost as nasty as the personality behind the wound-er."

Her eyes fluttered to his in amusement as she tugged at the band of his jeans to completely inspect the yellow-green skin. "Ouch. I think that might have actually hit a sore spot."

Despite his embarrassment, Chase chuckled at the sarcasm dripping from her tone. It died, however, when she ran a long, calloused finger over his hip bone. "It's healing," she murmured, noting the way his eyes went midnight and his jaw clenched. "I hit you pretty hard."

He said nothing, merely glanced down at the finger that danced slowly across his skin. His breath hissed between his teeth when she patted it roughly. "But not hard enough, it seems." With what seemed like a smile, she jerked his shirt down and tugged him foreword to tuck it back in.

He flinched as she proceeded to reach around him to secure his shirt back into place. "For someone who seems to hate the sight of me, you sure do love to touch me."

Something heated flashed in her usually guarded eyes, but it was gone too soon for him to interrupt him. Instead, her mouth curved up at the corners as she leaned in to nip at his jaw. She did smile when he jerked in surprise and patted his butt as she turned away from him, linking her arm around her shocked sister and tugging her forward.

Over her shoulder, she called, "Just because I hate you doesn't mean I don't think you're sexy."

Dante clucked his tongue as he patted Chase's ridged shoulder. "Well, at least she thinks you're hot," he said with flourish, chuckling and shoving his hands into his jean pockets. It was his way, Chase knew, of getting back at him for his jib at taking Kira.

Sam raised an eyebrow as she moved beside him, overhearing her usually detached sister's comment from the van. "Wow…I think that's the nicest thing she's every said to you."

"Uh-huh," he managed to say over the roaring in his ears. Gently, he touched a hand to his jaw, blinking rapidly. "Did she just bite me?"

With a heavy sigh, Starfire rubbed her pounding temples and tried to keep her eyes from crossing at the stack of papers lined up along her desk. Report card grades were to be posted in exactly two days, and she was three days behind in grading thanks to constant workshops that were mandatory in her teaching career. She had managed to grade a number of tests, but she still had at least ninety more to go after the hundred and two she had just graded.

It didn't help that prom was weeks away and students were bubbling with excitement, especially those seniors who were to graduate in less than two months. With a sinking rock weighing down in her stomach, Star realized that her two oldest babies were in the group of the excited.

"I'm getting old," she mumbled with a groan, head dropping to rest on her outstretched arm.

"Well, old lady, let me give you a hand with all those papers so you don't fry your ancient brain."

Starfire glanced up to see her oldest daughter prop a muscled hip against her desk and idly flipped through a stack of papers. Starfire glanced momentarily at her class, all staring wide-eyed at the sudden intrusion of her daughter. It was normal, however, so after a few seconds they relaxed, but never stopped watching. It was standard as well, for her fourth period class was filled to the brim with boys. Not a single girl was enrolled in this class, which Starfire moped over quite frequently. It was bad enough having them watch her butt more than what she wrote on the blackboard, but having them fawn over her daughters when they popped up uninvited? Not good.

Starfire glared. "Why aren't you in class? And don't call me old," she added after a pouting pause. "I'm only thirty-six."

Sam smiled and leaned down to kiss her forehead before happily plopping down at her mother's computer. Her gold eyes skimmed over the class. "Whatcha doing in here today?"

Starfire plucked the papers from her daughter's grasp and clicked them against the desk to straighten them. "We're watching an old DVD on the Tameranian wars."

"Ah. No one is watching, you know."

Starfire sent her male student a heated glare and their eyes instantly jumped to the ancient flat screened TV screen built onto the opposing side of the blackboard. "You're taking notes on this, so start watching it. If you're not careful, I might just quiz you and take away the next video I had planned." Eyes alight with humor, Starfire turned to her daughter. "Do you think they'd be interesting in the process of Tameranian mating rituals?"

Fighting back a smile, Sam took the papers once again, eyes skimming over the questions. She knew each answer by heart and plucked a pen off the desk to start grading. "Naw, don't think they'd like it. It's pretty explicit. They'd be bored out of their minds."

Immediately, the scratch of pen against paper sounded as ink flowed and the boys of all grades suddenly became interested in the history of the first major war of Tameran. "Better," Starfire mused, nodding in approval as she grabbed an extra pen.

There was a moment of silence between the two redheads, save for the droning voice of the narrator of the film. Starfire broke it when she glanced up with furrowed brows. To make sure no one overheard their conversation, Starfire slipped into Tameranian. "Why aren't you in class?"

Sam shrugged nonchalantly as she flipped through another paper, naturally switching languages. "Mr. Bower told me I could come since he's so proud of my sketch. Told me that I was too good for the likes of him and it annoyed him to see more talent than he had the pleasure of ever seeing. He's daft, if you tell me. It was only a doodle I did during Eco."

"You're very talented with a pen, Samara. There's something exceptional to your tone."

Sam brushed off the comment with a shrug but a pleased blush graced her golden cheeks. "Eh, he said I should send it off to a university. He's recommended me to a few already."

Stacking the graded papers to the side, Starfire asked, "Is that what you want to do with your life? Art?"

Sam gnawed on her full lip as she swiveled around in the chair. "I don't know," she admitted softly. "I…don't think it poses enough of a real challenge for me. I love drawing, but not enough to dedicate my life to it."

Starfire smiled as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her long legs and reaching for her canned soda to sip at it idly. "So, then, what do you want to do, my little genius?"

Sighing, she leaned forward to let her fingers fly over the computer keys, eyes never leaving her mother's. Impressed, Starfire waited patiently as Sam debated on her answer.

"Do you remember that journal I kept when I was younger?"

Starfire nodded and sat the drink down on the mahogany desk. "Yes. You always required at least two every month. By the time you were thirteen, you had accumulated over sixteen of them."

Now she turned her gold eyes to the screen, scanning the text she had written to find possible mistakes. Finding none, she folded her hands demurely in her lap. "It was a novel," she admitted sheepishly, which confused Starfire. Sam never felt awkward about anything. She was very independent and strong willed, never thinking of what others thought of her actions. Why would a novel she had written during her younger years make her so flustered?

"I…want to write…novels." She laced her fingers together, propping her stubborn chin against them. "I've always had an avid fascination for painting words onto paper and creating an atmosphere out of my own mind. It's why I joined the newspaper. Journalism is amazing, but writing…It's a challenge and simple all at the same time. I'll sit in my room and write until my eyes droop. All those notebooks? I've spent the past two years editing the mistakes, adding text and illusion to it all until it blends together into what I hope is a real novel. Is it…stupid to want that? I mean, I know I have the will to spend hours and hours on end writing, but what if it's not good enough?"

"Samara Grayson, since when have you started doubting your abilities? Last time I checked, the last time you did that you forced yourself to learn how to use a sword with your right hand until you couldn't lift it anymore."

Sam smiled at the memory. "I'm pretty hardheaded, aren't I?"

Starfire gave a snort of laughter, ignoring the love-sick eyes of her students as she reached over to pat her daughter's head. "Sweetheart, you have the hardest damn skull I've ever seen next to your father's. You a stubborn donkey, too."

Sam snickered. "Don't you mean stubborn ass?"

Starfire waved an airy hand and planted her foot against the chair her daughter sat in, giving it a firm push so she could sidle to the computer. "Twenty-three years on earth and I still have trouble with the language."

Sam hopped up from the chair to peer over her shoulder as Starfire peck in the grades. "I'm gonna go get Kira from class."

"Hmm, only if she's not doing anything. I don't want you to pull her from class if there is something important going on."

Sam plucked her mother's drink from the desk, taking a large swig and saying airily, "Awh, she's in Mr. Mayson's class. 'Sides," she added with a chuckle. "She has that class with Dante."

He was staring at her neck again.

Kiranne shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her slim hand rising to her throat, fingers dancing softly across the jagged scar. He knew how much she hated it when someone stared, but he had a habit of doing exactly what she didn't want.

Her unique eyes slid over to him, cupid-bow mouth turning down into a slight frown as her face heated. But those lavender eyes were watching her now, his unnaturally pretty mouth curved behind his hand. His index finger was arched above his upper lip as he slouched down in seat, long legs spread on either side of the desk.

Kira's back stiffened in embarrassment, causing his smile to become a lazy grin. Shoulder's squared; the six-foot-one redhead stared ahead with slightly narrowed eyes, forcing her mind to concentrate on the lecture her teacher was giving. Come on, Kira, she chastised herself, unconsciously lifting her pen and chewing on the top. You're grades are bad enough as it is. You need to pay attention. This is the year that really counts…It doesn't matter if you passed all your exit exams. If you fail this class, you'll have to take it your senior year and that'll really give everyone a reason to see how stupid you really are. Stop thinking about Dante staring at you. He's just doing it to be a jerk.

Ouch, came the mental reply of her long time love. Now was insulting me really necessary? I did nothing wrong to earn such blatant disrespect.

Kira bit back a squeal, but couldn't keep her extraordinarily long body from jumping.

D-Dante… she stuttered, teeth tightening against the innocent blue cap of her pen as she fought to push down her nervousness. She always became tongue-tied when speaking to him, even if it was in her mind.

"Mr. Logan, are you listening to me?"

Dante glanced up slowly at his teacher. "Not really."

He felt his eyebrow lift when the class roared with laughter. He didn't find his answer funny at all. He was merely telling the truth.

But Kira's mouth lifted slightly, and for some reason, Dante felt like digging himself deeper into his crater of bad behavior with teachers.

"Dante!" Mr. Mayson, the U.S. History teacher, snapped.

He blinked slowly. "Huh?"

"Manners, please, if you don't mind. There are actually students in here who wish to become a senior next year. Now, as I was saying—"

And Dante shut him out again, Kira noticed, watching the way his lavender eyes shifted around the room. Berating herself for staring, Kira sat straighter in her seat and jotted down the notes Mr. Mayson had scrawled on the black board.

She was in the midst of actually learning something about World War II when she felt his eyes again. She tried to act cool and pretend to ignore him, but she felt the telltale blush blossom along her skin and dip into her shirt.

She heard him chuckle lowly and slid down into her seat. "Mr. Logan, what is so funny, might I ask? Is the slaughter of innocent people amusing? Do you find war and death and hardship hilarious?" Mr. Mayson set his hands on scrawny hips, thin mouth turning down in a frown.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she was him grin, hand still over his mouth. "No, it's not funny at all."

Mr. Mayson's noise twitched as he shoved up his glasses, dark hair tumbling over the simple frames. He tossed it away with an impatient flick of his wrist before turning to the board again, but not before he slid an annoyed glare at Dante. "No more interruptions, Mr. Logan."

"Sure, sure."

Kiranne Grayson sighed softly, leaning down on her desk and shoving all ten fingers through her wild mass of red curls as she listen to Mr. Mayson's excited voice. At the moment, she was balancing precariously on a seventy average. If she didn't listen and take note on what her teacher was saying, she'd flunk the next test and drop her grade into the sixties, which would mean losing her job briefly at Logan's Leaf and disappointing her parents once again.

She didn't understand why she couldn't grasp such a simple subject. It did not help that she was frequently being called out of class to stop a robbery or help with a wreck, but she shouldn't be failing. Dante was passing this class, and every other person for that matter, with flying colors despite the fact that he was lazy and—

Ouch. What's with the sudden slams at me, huh?

Kira jumped again, barely suppressing a yelp, and slammed her knee against the metal leg of the desk. She held her breath as the pain died down to a steady thrum before sliding her eyes to Dante.

I would…prefer if you stay out of my head, Dante.

Gently, she reached down to rub her sore knee. Well, I wouldn't have to pick through your brain if you didn't blush and stammer every time I try to talk to you in person. I realize I'm hot, but seriously. You don't have to be afraid of me.

I—I'm not afraid of you. She slid her eyes toward him, heart pounding a heavy tempo against her ribs as his eyes strayed to her neck again. She let her eyes slip closed for a brief moment to control the unruly organ.

Kiranne, look. I know you're still fidgety about what happened this morning at breakfast, but—

And then she was blushing again, heat crawling against her skin as her heart leapt into her throat at the remembrance of his long warm fingers skimming across her skin as he wiped away a stray tear—

She was ripped from the thoughts when a sharp knock rapped against the door. Kira jerked in her seat and snapped up straight, hastily shoving back a wild curl that dangled over her left eye.

Mr. Mayson blinked when Sam walked in with a simple confidence that seemed to fill the entire room with a glow of contentment. "Hey, do you mind if I steal Kira away?"

Kira decided to forgo the straight posture as she slid down in her seat as all eyes turned to her. Mr. Mayson looked unsure. "Well…I'm in the middle of a lecture at the moment—"

"Tests are over, Mr. Mayson. She's passed everything she's needed to so she can graduate."

"Yes, I'm aware of this, but as you know, she barely skimmed through it. She was lucky to pass at all."

Kiranne suppressed the urge to dig a hole and bury herself beneath the soil. Was it really necessary to say that? Couldn't they have said it gently, instead of talking in normal tones?

Sam frowned slightly as she shifted on her feet, eyebrows drawn together and fingers lifting to trace her bottom lip, a sure sign that she was in the midst of trying to study the field and find a way around the obstacle.

Knowing the look from the previous year, Mr. Mayson sighed. "Fine. I'll let it slide this time, but only because she did stop that blockhead from tossing my car at the school building." Then he smiled wickedly. "I'll just have Dante write down the rest of my notes."

Said boy snapped up in his seat. "Hey, that's not fair. I'm not even writing my own notes, much less someone else's."

Mr. Mayson plucked the notebook from Kiranne's desk and held it between two fingers, dangling it above the scowling shape-shifter. "Then it will be your fault when she fails this class and has to take it her senior year."

Dante gawked at the smirking teacher. "Oh, yeah, let's pin that on me." Despite his grumbling, Dante jerked the book from the teacher's hand as Sam ushered her sister out of the room.

"Thanks, Mr. Mayson."

He waved them away with a flick of his wrist before turning back to the board and started his lecture up once again. Sam shut the door behind them with a click, a smirk sliding over her features as she turned back toward her sister. "There. That was simple. Now you can skip legally with me and still be able to pass. Dante won't let you have a chance of failing."

Kira nodded slightly as she followed her sister down the maroon and white hallway. It wasn't until she reached her mother's room that she realized that the notebook she had been writing in was the same on in which she professed her long withstanding love for Dante Logan.

Gizmo really wasn't sure what motivated him to suddenly hate the Titans enough for him to plot murder, but he realized that whatever it was happened to be alarmingly strong. He found himself dreaming of killing the girl day and night. His world seemed to revolve it. He ate, drank, slept with ideas coursing through his mind.

Problem was he wasn't sure how to go about it. There were very few chances in which the girl was alone, for she was either with her siblings or that boy. She with him constantly, and Gizmo found he didn't have the heart to kill them both; else he would have done away with them long ago when they sneaked off to have sex every weekend.

He decided, as he injected the hormone into his artificially muscular arm, that it would be technologically planned. Guns were overrated, and drugs didn't seem fair enough to either of them. He wanted to leave his signature upon her dead body. He wanted others to know he was the one who defeated her, that he was the one who finally got rid of one of the Titan's children.

Rebecca sat at his metal desk, watching as he tossed the useless syringe away. "What was that for?" She asked, craning her head to peer at the towering walls of gleaming metal and state of the art mechanics.

"An artificial stimulator. I designed it with tiny nanobots that pump my muscles and keep them hard. It increases strength as well. So long as I inject myself with this every other day, I stay strong without all the hassle of working out."

"Oh," she said, studying the innocent bottle with a tilt of her blonde head. "Intriguing."

"Hmm." Gizmo threw his bulky body into the seat across from hers, cringing slightly as the hormone took affect, masterfully enlarging his muscles. "Why are you here?"

Rebecca studied him, eyes raking over his form. "There's something about you that has me captivated. I don't know what it is, but you seem like someone who can get the job right."

He leaned back, arm casually thrown over the back of the metal chair. "Depends on how much I want it."

"You must want this pretty badly, then. You seemed quite sure you wanted to kill Adara Grayson. Might there be a reason for your madness?"

He smiled, and Rebecca found that it almost made him approachable. "Not one that I can really think of. I've always despised the Teen Titans for customary reasons. They took my comrade away from me."

A perfectly arched brow shot up. "They killed someone?"

Gizmo snorted. "No. They turned her into one of them."

Rebecca flinched, gently reaching out to lay her hand against his. "Ouch. That had to be hard for you."

His eyes hardened as the hand beneath hers fisted. "The damn whore went out a married one of them, too."

Suddenly, flashes of pink ran through her mind. "Ah. I remember her. Jinx. Pretty big media affair. She was the main topic for awhile. Didn't she get pregnant at sixteen?"

She kept her face composed as he reared up, tossing the chair into the wall with a roar of anger. "That fucking bitch left us all just to screw around with that damn redheaded bastard. Jinx wouldn't let anyone else touch her when she was with us, but the second he comes along; she's spreading her legs wide and gets knocked up immediately."

"I take it you wanted her?"

His glare was stony as he leaned against the desk, hands digging into the metal. "Who didn't? We all wanted her. She was the only one any of us could get our hands on, but no one had a chance. That stupid Flash pops up with a stupid rose and she's gone for good."

Interesting, Rebecca mused as she propped her elbows on the table. "Have you heard from her?"

"No. Last time I saw her, she was telling us she was through being a criminal and that she was made for more than robberies and theft. Damn woman looked too happy do be so dark."

"Hmm. Is she still married?"

"Hell yes. They got a couple of kids. Don't know where they are, but they're probably still screwing like horny rabbits."

Lips twitching, Rebecca slipped off the chair to walk behind him, idly tracing her fingers against his tensed shoulder blades. "Have you thought about her?"

Gizmo frowned slightly, mind racing. The woman behind him was sinister, that was for sure, but there was something else about her, something off and not all together rational. Her mind stepped over the boundary of evil and to that of the insane. A part of him was content with the path that he had chosen, but there was something nagging at the back of his mind…

"No. She was the past."

He could feel her smile as she ducked beneath his arm and hopped up onto the desk. Her slim legs slid around his waist, pulling tightly to bring his against her. "But she's the reason for your desire to murder Adara Grayson."

His eyes drifted down to where their bodies melded. "In a way, yes."

"You live in the past, as do most people. I've always loved that."

Legs still secured around his hips, Rebecca leaned forward to trace his abdomen. "My past refuses to be buried, and I can't see the future clearly without being dragged back down. Those women…everything was supposed to go on smoothly. Things would have been fine if they'd of never have gotten involved. I had always wanted them. I followed their movements when they became a team, knew of the pain and struggles. I didn't really plan on having the White Rose soar to such heights, but oh, it was worth it." Her voice went soft and deep as she leaned her forehead against his chest. "They were so damn arousing. All of them. They were trying so hard to be the heroes the world wanted. But when I got my hands on them…they were so human, so vulnerable. I was sure…we were all sure that we had them. But we underestimated them. We thought that, despite their strong bodies, their will was weak.

"We were wrong. Not only are their bodies strong, but their spirit. We were unaware of this fact. Most heroes have weakness. Back then, they had none. But now," she said, her mouth smoothing out in a malicious grin. "Now, they are at their weakest point."

Gently, she leaned up to brush her mouth against the hard line of his. "Their children are their weaknesses. Now, after eighteen years, I'll finally be able to rid myself of the past and grasp the future."

Her hands dipped down his chest, tracing lower and lower until her finger hooked into the band of his jeans. "And the only way to save my future is to destroy theirs." He watched her eyes go black with insanity. "It damned time I end their little fairytale world. Tomorrow, Gizmo, I plan to start my own future. The Titans children will die by my own determination."

She grinned. "I think it's high time I make that redhead bitch pay."