Author's Note: OH MY GOLLY GOSH! A freaking chapter!
So how's everyone doing…? Heh…? Ahem. Yeah, this is that update I said might be coming during spring break, but I'm sad to say I'm still not entirely off hiatus. Read the notice on my profile for details cuz right now I don't wanna get into it. Nothing serious, though, I promise.
But anyways, about this chapter and the rest of the fanfic—this is it guys! We're coming down to the last stretch! Originally I had written one, uber-long chapter that probably could have stood as a story alone b/c of its length…heheh…but I made it into the two following chapters instead, after much debate. The next couple of chapters are the most important of the story, and the last—so I want them to be as well-done as possible. And that's right, you heard me—we're nearing the end! Looking back, I'm proud that I've come this far with this fic even though I'm not one-hundred percent satisfied. I started Life With No Green when I was thirteen, and now when I look at it I understand I could have done a lot more with it than I did, character- and plot-development wise, but I was just a kid while writing most of this—it was mainly a test-run, to help me develop story-telling and writing skills. I don't know if I've gotten any better, but this fanfic has certainly opened a few doors in the writer's universe for me that I never knew before now!
I already have my next fanfic planned for the Titans, and I hope it will delve more into the depth and definition of the Teen Titan characters; aspects from both the comic and the show. In my next author's note, I'm going to include a quick summary of it and hold a poll of what you guys think, though—I'm not planning on writing it if no one will read it, so be sure to give me your opinions in your reviews next time!
But listen to me, rambling on—there's still a few more chapters left to go. So hold on tight, cuz we're going for a ride now, folks! And I apologize in advance for the half-cliffhanger ending. I'll try to have more uploaded within the next couple weeks…?
Oh, and P.S.- If you're a fan of the AWESOME ninjafied anime-series Naruto, be sure to check out my collection of one shots I'm beginning to post called Lasting Impressions: First Day At The Academy!, when you get the chance. I think it's a nice little project I'm doing, worth reading if you like material worth reading…
Geez that was a long author's note. And now I'm only making it longer. Later!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in the Teen Titans show or comics.
Silence.
That was the one dominant feature of the kitchen in Steve Dayton's apartment, the only interruption of the lack of life the faint whirring of the refrigerator every couple of minutes when it crushed ice. The horns and engines of heavy traffic could still be heard from outside the apartment, but just barely; the walls were decently thick. Otherwise, all other household appliances were shut down at the time, and the apartment was full of emptiness. As if the two people in the kitchen didn't exist, at least to one another.
And it was killing Steve.
"How long are you gonna stay mad at me, Gar?!" Steve finally broke, throwing his arms up with his exclamation. He had been leaning against the kitchen counter, trying to enjoy his microwave dinner in piece, but his conscience had other ideas.
Gar flinched slightly in his seat at the far end of the counter at Steve's shout, almost startled by the sudden noise. He looked up at Steve, who was leaning forward expectantly. Then he stuck out his tongue and continued to ignore his foster father as before. Steve's eyes bulged.
"Come ON! You've been giving me the cold shoulder routine since we got home Wednesday!" Steve's tone took on a bit of pleading. "Could you just grow up, if only a little?"
Gar sniffed and faced Steve. "You tricked me! How is that being grown up on your part??"
Steve sighed, closed his eyes and rubbed his left temple. Yeah, so he had told Gar he needed to pick up something at his office before running Gar by the mall—and instead had driven Gar to the downtown clinic for a check-up. Gar had freaked when he realized exactly where Steve parked the car—not in the parking deck of his office complex—and Steve was forced to threaten Gar with bringing the doctor out to the car until the kid had finally agreed, rather grudgingly, to go in the clinic. Steve had only had to make a trip to the doctor's with Gar a couple of times in their past history together, but Gar never failed to make any experience concerning doctors extremely similar to dealing with a colicky two-year-old.
"So this is how you're going to be. Fine…but we both know that you wouldn't have cooperated any other way, hotshot," Steve grunted.
Gar rolled his eyes, sinking his head into his arms on the counter. "Well it's not like I needed to go anyways!" he grumbled.
Steve immediately snorted. "I still can't believe you thought I was so dense I wouldn't notice you hacking up a lung. And as far as I was concerned, you were far from alright with the kind of sounds you were making," Steve commented dryly.
"It was just a bad cough! The freaking doctor said so himself, and I've been taking the stupid medicine he prescribed!" Gar sounded a little more forceful than he had intended, but he was fed up with the whole deal. Steve had been breathing down his neck about the fact that he had tried to hide his cough from his foster father, and Steve refused to let up. Gar took a breath to calm down a tad, then continued. "The coughing is gone, and I'm fine. I haven't dropped dead yet, have I? So just quit worrying."
Gar steeled himself for some type of a lecture from Steve, but instead Steve's face softened somewhat at Gar's words. He sighed. "Yes, Gar, you're right," Steve suddenly consented, "I should probably quit worrying. But you understand why I was worrying, right? I mean, I know you don't like to talk about it but you aren't just some ordinary kid now, like you'd like to think…you've been through a lot."
Gar's forest green eyes met Steve's concerned gaze, and the fight went out of Gar in an instant. He couldn't help but know that Steve was simply trying to look after him to the best of his abilities—but Gar still shuddered at the thought of all those shining instruments that had laid by the sink in the examination room. None of them had been used, just a swab for Gar's throat, but the fact they were there had been too much. Gar gave his head a quick shake to rid himself of thoughts, and focused his attention on Steve's face. Then he gave a small smile.
"You know…promise me something."
Steve raised an eyebrow, sensing a playful change in Gar's voice and stature. He had a feeling Gar had forgiven him, and went along. "What?"
"At least don't ever take me back to THAT clinic. Paralyzing fear is one thing, but that nurse kept trying to massage me. A whole new territory there; usually I'm all for the attention of older women, but she could've been my grandmother…"
Steve grinned and almost threw some microwaved mashed potatoes at Gar's head. "Dream on, kid! You were as stiff as a board, she was just trying to make sure you didn't break in half or anything."
"Whatever…" Gar was smiling too, however, and some life returned to the apartment.
Suddenly the shrill ringing of the phone by the fridge shattered into the conversation. Gar jumped up from his seat, going over to answer as Steve resumed eating his dinner. Gar picked it up in the middle of its second blast, wondering for a second before he answered who could be calling.
"Hello?"
"Gar! Hey what's up man?"
Gar recognized John's voice on the other end of the line easily. He also could hear some male laughter in the background, and he assumed it was Benji or one of the other guys from the band. "Yeah, nothing," Gar answered. "Whatcha need?"
"Me, Benji and Tye are at the cafe right now; we decided to call up the rest of you guys and see if you wanted to meet at the downtown pizza parlor in about an hour. It's on me and Benji."
"Sounds cool," Gar said. It was around three in the afternoon, and Gar hadn't eaten yet that day. "I'll be there. So how was the mall last Wednesday? Kassie said you guys left early."
"Ah, yeah we only stayed for about two or three hours. Michelle was lacking entertainment with your absence, and in turn was driving Kassie crazy. Plus me and Nick had a history essay due."
"Oh, right…say, um, you don't think Nicole will be at the parlor, do you?"
Gar heard John snicker. "She has it bad for you. Man, I don't know how she figures out where we're going to be most of the time, but I can say this: blame Michael. He probably has something to do with it."
"Great…"
John laughed. "Right. So see you in an hour?"
"See you in an hour."
Gar hung up the phone after he heard the click from the other end, and turned around to a curious Steve. "Who was that?"
"Oh, just one of the guys, John. We're going for pizza in an hour or so." Gar went back to his seat on the counter.
Steve smiled at the mashed potatoes still stuck to his spoon. "Oh, okay," he said to Gar, sticking the spoon in his mouth. "Make sure you get back before I'm eighty, and don't harass any cops, got it?"
Gar grinned and made a face. "Whatever. You really shouldn't talk through mashed potatoes, though, not the best look for you…" He ducked and jumped of his seat at the counter, running back to his room before Steve could really throw the potatoes at him. That wouldn't be pleasant.
Steve chuckled as he heard the door to Gar's room shut, shaking his head a little. That kid…just that kid. He looked over across the kitchen and living room to the window, the view of the traffic-full streets below. "You know," he mumbled to no one in particular, "we might just make it yet."
He finished his mashed potatoes.
A stream of steady whispers and quiet voices echoed through the halls of Jump City's National Mutual Bank, creating the boring, busybody atmosphere that usually resides within the walls of banks—a few people making withdrawals here, a few setting up accounts or loans there. The air was a bit stuffy inside the building, so everything seemed muffled and dragging, the perfect environment for the security guard at the front desk post to be nodding of ever so slightly, and for the security camera footage to be duly ignored. Even the front receptionist was yawning, discretely texting her friend about their planned girls-night-out under her desk. It was an ordinary, if a little bit slow, afternoon…and that was about to turn around.
In more of a for worse rather than better sort of way.
The front doors exploded open in an unexpected instant, shattering the stuffy, quiet calm and giving everyone located in the bank quite a shock. The security guard jerked fully awake, jumping out of his chair and looking around wildly before he finally gathered the whole situation: dust and smoke pouring into the building, shafts of sunlight breaking through here or there, giving the atmosphere an almost twilight-zone feelings. The whole bank watched the entrance, breathless. Two shadows sauntered forward through the settling cloud of dust before stabilizing their forms with a few last heavy steps forward, emerging from the debris of the blown-apart doors. The front receptionist's eyes widened as she took in the sight before her, and her cell phone clattered to the ground.
There stood two men. With two really big guns.
"Well hey there, folks! Don't you look all surprised to see us! Delightful."
The gruff voice issued from one of the figures, booming through the silent bank. The security guard remained stock still, shock written all over his face as the rest of the people in the bank. The intruders didn't really look frightening—besides the size of their guns, they were simply dressed in black jumpsuits, with orange goggles on and nothing else to shield their identities. The man who had spoken was smiling devilishly, goggles glinting in the light as his much bigger and much more silent counterpart merely appeared to gaze straight ahead indifferently. The two looked rugged enough, unshaven stubble covering their faces with nicks and scars showing battle experience—the wide, on the verge of crazy grin was not helping the atmosphere of bank. And then they decided to pick up the pace enough.
"What, y'all aren't all pleased to see us and stuff?" the smaller man, feigning a pout. "Shoot, and I was expectin' a welcome party and all that…oh well."
He shrugged, hoisted the huge machine gun he had been steadying against his hip up onto his shoulder, and nonchalantly let a volley of bullets rip through the silent building in no particular direction.
The shocked air of the bank quickly turned into to one of terror.
People dove towards the ground amid screams in an attempt to avoid being torn apart by the bullets. The criminal kept shooting for a good couple minutes, his smile growing wider with each scream. Passersby outside the bank froze and looked at each other in horror, listening to the ruckus still hidden by dust and such. It didn't take too long for people to begin running away from the scene, a few responsible souls whipping out their cell phones to alert law enforcement that something was terribly wrong. Inside the bank the man in red finally stopped shooting, his partner having remained still and silent through the ordeal. Screams dying out and everyone on the floor by now, the small man let out a bark of laughter, and then turned towards the front receptionist cowering under her desk. She gulped as his goggles flashed at her. He gestured towards the vault at the back of the bank, and promptly aimed his gun at her.
"We'll be takin' the money now, miss."
The security guard, who had been on the ground himself, finally found his senses as the receptionist didn't move, terrified beyond reason. He sprang to his feet, pulling his gun and slapping a small, red button underneath his desk as he came up. "Freeze!" he shouted, unsteadily aiming his pistol at the two robbers. "You are violating the law! Take one more step and I'll—"
With a sharp bang, the security guard jerked backwards as a bullet connected solidly with his left shoulder. A few screams sounded throughout the building again, and the receptionist squeezed her eyes shut, thinking the worst. The security guard, however, was still breathing—his cursing and gasps of pain as he gripped his shoulder testified to that. The blood began soaking through his sleeve, and he looked up with clouded eyes to see the bigger, silent man holding a smoking pistol aimed towards him. He had detached it from a compartment on the leg of his jumpsuit—his larger gun was still resting upon his hip, held by his other hand.
"Thanks, cowboy," the smaller man yawned. "That chirping was getting annoying. And you—" he directed his goggles towards the security guard, "—don't interfere if you value your life. My buddy here missed on purpose…"
The robber waltzed down to the front desk, his partner in tow, and tapped on the desk the receptionist was hiding under. "Now honey, open your eyes and use the fancy code or whatever to open the damn vault so we can get our money and get."
Before the receptionist could even think about complying, however, a birdarang whizzed through the air and embedded itself in the wood of the desk not even an inch from the hand of the man. It was then he noticed the absence of hushed cries and whimpers and whispers that had been present only seconds before; the man quickly glanced around the room to find every soul, including the bloodied security cop and excluding the still-cowering receptionist, had been vacated from the building. They were all…gone. Tensing up, he turned away from the desk and looked at the entrance to find a sight all criminals in Jump City had come to expect.
"You picked the wrong day to rob a bank, guys…Titans, go!"
The Titans' Tower was devoid of life and almost completely quiet for the moment save the small trickle of water dripping from the kitchen sink, a result of the hurried departure of the crime-fighting heroes. The red flashing of the crime alarm had shut off only a couple moments ago, giving the whole place an eerie silent feel. The kind of feel that nobody's home…and that everything isn't necessarily well.
If someone had been sitting inside the security room of the Tower—otherwise known as Cyborg's closet, actually—they would have been amazed at the number of monitors and gadgets and graphics, the advanced technology in general, all surveillacing the state of the Titans' Tower. Bleeping, beeping, blipping, Cyborg had put his heart and soul into maintaining the security of the Tower; which was why it was almost impossible to breach. It had only been done once in the history of the Teen Titans, and only as a result of inside cooperation—a memory of a certain earth-moving girl the Titans did not want to visit again. When Cyborg got it done, in his own words, it was done, baby.
And so anyone watching would have been entirely surprised when six screens on the security monitors went black, all data and signs regarding the six areas they covered wiped from the memory of the Tower's data base for…four or five minutes, more or less.
Having hacked successfully into the Tower's system, for the first time in two weeks the small mechanical toy that had taken residence in the Tower for an extended stay dared to venture out of the dark recesses of its domain. It was an odd-looking thing: black steel, eight slender probes supporting its hard drive at its center, the robotic computer looked like a metallic spider about the size of a human hand with a blinking orange light in the center of its body. After a pause from behind a shadowed corner somewhere in the vast expanses of the Tower, it quickly began scuttling through the hallways of the Tower, following the route it had laid out for itself with the help of looping and blanking out the security cameras and devices in six particular spots of the building. By passing through each of the spots, the spider-robot made its way undetected to the base of the Tower, where it rapidly made its exit from the construction through the basement plumbing. When the security cameras and such switched back to normal function, there was no glitch in the system to show a disturbance had taken place unless someone was to search the files and data painstakingly and thoroughly. There would have been nothing important about the disturbance, either, save for one thing—a robotic hacker with the whole layout and current technological data about the system of the Tower had just escaped, unharmed, and was scuttling down the beach to heaven knows where.
That could later present a massive problem for the Teen Titans.
"Give it up, man, you're never gonna beat me with that hunk of junk!"
Cyborg jeered at the huge gunman he was facing off against, the two of them slowly circling each other in a defensive stance. Robin and Starfire were taking care of the loudmouth crook, easily avoiding his wild shots and scoffing at his empty threats. The Titans had quickly discovered that at least one of the two didn't have a clue about what he was doing; it appeared as if he just pulled the trigger and hoped that the bullets would hit the target he wanted them to hit. Far from expert gunmanship.
The other criminal was a bit different, though.
Arriving on the scene shortly after receiving a frantic call on the citizen hotline, and then the official crime alarm as the police got word to them, the Titans witnessed the sniper-like shooting the larger man had performed when taking the security guard down. Even if his partner was a loudmouth know-it-all-about-nothing idiot, this guy knew what he was doing: both Cyborg and Robin could tell from his stance and calm demeanor. Immediately, Robin had ordered Kid Flash and Rave to evacuate all the citizens inside the bank without alerting the robbers—easy to do for a super-fast superhero and a teleporting one —and then the Titans finally let the robbers know of their presence. The smaller man obviously egotistical and arrogant as long as his hands were on a gun instantly fired and took on the leader of the Titans. Cyborg drew the obviously expert gunman away from the rest of the group, seeing as he had an arm that could transform into a sonic canon in an instant and his body was…well pretty much all titanium and steel. Bullets couldn't really make metal bleed.
"Come on. Put the gun down and I'll make it quick and painless. Promise."
The gunman was pointedly ignoring Cyborg, however, continuing to circle. Cyborg rolled his eyes, exasperated. Surely this guy didn't think he could take him on. Even an idiot would know better than to aim a gun at a steel wall—Cyborg had to admit, being more than half-machine did have its perks at times. Anyways, Cyborg had already formed his arm into the infamous cannon, and focused intently on the gunman, thinking a good intimidating stare might do it. Of course, now that he though about it, s good stare was hard to muster with those orange goggles flashing in his eyes. Cyborg started to get a little uneasy. He couldn't tell where the gunman was looking, and it was freaking him out a little. Out of the corner of his vision, Cyborg saw Raven suddenly appear up in the air near him, most likely done helping Kid Flash the citizens to safety. Looking out of the other side of his peripheral vision, he saw that Robin and Starfire had already managed to unarm and knock out the other gunman. He smiled, his confidence back—this would be over soon.
It was then that Cyborg's opponent abruptly stopped circling, standing up straight and peering at Cyborg through his orange goggles. Startled, Cyborg rose too, watching the gunman dumbly, not sure of what to think. The guy was actually listening to him? That was a first in the history of bank robbers. The gunman drew about five or six extra pistols and handguns from pockets and compartments on his jumpsuit, causing Cyborg to tense up again, but then the gunman merely threw them all on the floor with a loud collection of clatters. Cyborg's human eye widened, then narrowed suspiciously. Something didn't seem right.
The gunman slowly raised his last gun, as if he was going to drop that to the floor too…and did precisely that. Cyborg's face got the most surprised expression on it, and he glanced up at Raven to see her eyebrows raised as well. But both had failed to notice one important detail in the stance of the robber—he didn't look defeated in the least. As Cyborg turned back to face him, the gunman fluidly reached into yet another pocket in the back of his jumpsuit and pulled out another automatic in a movement nearly too fast for the human eye to follow. With a long string of ratt-a-tat-tatts, the lights across the bank's ceiling erupted in a storm of sparks and glass, causing all the Titans to cover their faces with their arms, squinting against the lights of the explosions. It took a couple moments for the sparks and lights to cease, the dim sunlight leaking through the demolished doors now the source of light for half the building. Squinting against the last of the sparks raining down from the ceiling, Cyborg realized the gunman was gone, along with his unconscious partner. Shaking his head, Cyborg saw Robin running towards him.
"Don't even ask me, man, cuz I don't know," he said as Robin skidded to a stop in front of him. Raven and Starfire floated down, and Kid Flash suddenly blurred up to meet them. The Titans stared at each other in silence for a minute, listening to the wailing of sirens from outside.
"Well," Raven droned, "that was certainly odd."
The Titans chorused in agreement. "No kidding," Cyborg said, "I thought for a minute the guy really was surrendering—and then—bang!—and he made his escape…"
Robin scratched his head thoughtfully. "They didn't attempt to try to get what they came here for, attacked us as soon as we showed up."
There was a pause as everyone mulled over the enigma.
"At least the security guard got off okay," Kid Flash said enthusiastically into the quiet. "They'll remove the bullet in surgery soon, they said."
More silence.
"Aw, come on! Everyone's alive, not to mention that Robin and Starfire kicked that guy's ass! Count that as success, right?"
Cyborg grinned and Starfire giggled at Kid Flash's remark, lightening the mood some. Even Robin smiled a bit. Raven glowered, but didn't say anything. She was learning once again how to let things go, in a torturing kind of way.
"Yeah, let's save pondering over this crap for later!" Cyborg agreed. "It's almost five and I'm HUNGRY, so I say let's go for pizza!"
"Ooooh, yes, I love the parlor of pizza where they serve the most delicious consumption of mustard! I concede!" Starfire exclaimed, soaring into the air.
Robin chuckled. "Just let me go wrap things up with the police and I'm for it, too."
"Alright!" Kid Flash pumped a fist into the air and dashed out of the bank. The rest of the Titans followed in his wake, chatting about this or that as they made their way towards the circle of police cars waiting at the entrance of the bank.
The parlor was crowded—as in hardly-any-air-to-breathe, bodies-pressed-too-close-together-for-comfort, smell-beyond-smelling-like-shit crowded. But then again, going to famous pizza parlors on Saturday evenings usually tend to be that way—it's just a fact of life. Still, Gar wasn't too pleased when he walked up to the restaurant to find the waiting line extending from the front doors down the sidewalk to the parking lot of the parlor. Gar groaned—he hated lines, unless there was no choice to wait in it for something he absolutely must have. And that usually solely involved videogames.
"Gar!"
Hearing his name, Gar turned around to see Michael waving his hands in the air at him, jumping up and down and earning a few glances from passersby at his ridiculous windmill actions. Behind him, a few more of the group were waiting, talking amongst themselves or watching Michael get Gar's attention, standing under a tree near the restaurant's entrance …looked like it was John, Tye, and Nick in addition to Michael, with no sign of Benji or Kassie, and thankfully no sign of Michelle, either. Gar jogged over to the boys, smile on his face.
"Hey man," Michael greeted him as Gar came up to the group. "Glad we caught you."
Gar raised an eyebrow. "Caught me? What's up?"
"That line's what's up!" John exclaimed from behind Michael. "We decided there's no way we're waiting that long, no matter how good the pizza is. Not worth it."
Nick and Tye nodded in agreement. "We've already called Kassie and Benji," Michael continued, "and they suggested this other place only a couple blocks away. They're heading down there, and we decided to wait for you and then go."
"Okay," Gar said. He had been to this pizza parlor only a couple of times before now, with his friends and once with Steve, and didn't really see "Let's go."
Not too much later the boys were sauntering down the sidewalks of downtown Jump City, laughing and yelling and having a good time in general. Most were giving the loud group a wide berth, so the walk wasn't taking too long.
"So what is this place, exactly?" Gar asked Michael after they all finished laughing at one joke or another. Nick and John were further up ahead, chasing each other down the sidewalk after John decided to give Nick a wet-willy. Tye fell into step with Gar and answered his question instead.
"I've been to it once before, and I can't remember what it's called, just that it has some good pizza. Kinda small, so it's not always as crowded as the other one."
"Yeah, I've actually never been," Michael commented from the other side of Gar. His eyes twinkled mischievously, for a second. "But how much you wanna bet Benji and Kassie frequent it to get some quiet lovin' in every once and while?"
"Gross!" Tye and Gar shouted simultaneously, Gar shoving Michael in the shoulder. Sometimes the guy let his mind go where his mind just shouldn't go.
"Hey! Here we are mates!" Nick shouted from up ahead, pointing around a corner to the right. John had already disappeared behind it, and Nick followed suit. Michael, Tye, and Gar soon rounded the corner as well, and watched Nick and John cross the street to run into the mystery pizza parlor.
Gar just about had a freaking heart attack.
"Ah, I can smell the tomato sauce and pepperoni in the air!"
"Mustard! Do not forget the glorious mustard!"
The Teen Titans walked through the doors of their favorite pizza parlor in town, Starfire's eyes dancing with the prospect of mustard in the near future, Kid Flash's smile doubling at the thought that his stomach would soon be satisfied, and Cyborg's mouth drooling rivers at the reported smell of pizza cooking in the back. Robin simply grinned at his teammates' reactions to the place as he did every time, and Raven wondered if she could they could get a table inside for once, maybe a private room so she could read without the wind ruffling the pages of her current reading book…
"Hey, Jason! A table on the patio as usual, please," Cyborg boomed at the host, dashing Raven's hopes. She sighed.
"No problem," Jason smiled, grabbing some wrapped silverware from the bucket beside the host podium. The tanned, medium height, brown-haired, brown-eyed college student was more than used to seeing the Titans at his father's restaurant. They had been serving the Titans from the beginning after all—Jason was one of the few citizen-friends of the crime-fighting group, and one of the best they had discovered so far. He didn't let his jaw fall open and stare in shock like the other, less frequent employees and customers did when the Titans waltzed in; instead, he began good-humoringly talking to Robin as he led the Titans out to the patio. The restaurant was busy at a relaxing pace, only half-filled versus the crowded ones further into town. Anybody who knew Jason or his dad and their relationship with the Titans always asked the same thing: why didn't they advertise their business with the teen heroes, and gain the crowd the other parlors boasted? The answer was always simple, too…the workers of the place and the Titans had come to some sort of silent agreement—the service the restaurant provided the Teen Titans was treated as any other service. The Titans didn't want to be advertised, and enjoyed eating their meals in peace as any other group of teenagers would. In turn, the customers who weren't regular provided enough advertisement about the food and the off-chance of seeing the Titans there provided a steady, but not overwhelming, influx of money. The Titans also ordered more than enough pizza whenever they showed up, for sure.
"Just finish bashing in some butt of an unlucky criminal?" Jason asked Robin as he opened the door to the patio seats.
Robin nodded, ignoring the short scream and crash that sounded from the other side of the patio as some fangirl noticed the Titans' presence and dropped her drink. "Yeah, a couple of bank robbers."
"Ah, is it ever anything else?" Jason laughed, setting the silverware down at a patio table kind of secluded from the rest—moved ever so slightly away from the restaurant, overlooking the busy street below. The whispered exclamations of "Is it them? Is it really them?" could be heard from across the patio now, but both Jason and the Titans ignored them as they were seated.
"Now let me guess what you want to drink," Jason said with a playful tone to his voice. He pulled out a pad of paper and a pen and tapped his lip in a mock-thoughtful manner. "Robin, the plain old Pepsi—Cyborg, the plain old Mountain Dew—Raven, the herbal tea—Kid Flash, the…Pibb Extra? Yeah, I thought so—and who could forget the mustard for Starfire." He grinned as the Titans chuckled. "I'll get those out for you, and Kasey will be over in a minute to watch you guys fight over what kind of pizzas you want."
"Thanks, Jason," Robin called as Jason walked off, waving a friendly hand over his shoulder. Cyborg and Kid Flash began arguing loudly over what type of pizza they would order, Raven rolled her eyes and glared down at the street, Starfire began chatting with Robin about the wonderful aspects of living organisms, and the friends enjoyed each other's company.
"Gar, you look about five shades paler than usual. Are you okay? "
Kassie's concerned voice broke into Gar's dazed state, and he turned to face her. She and Benji had arrived about two minutes ago, the rest of the group conversing happily in the waiting area of the restaurant—besides Gar, who was more or less cowering in a corner. Of all the freaking places in the city, they had to choose this one? This freaking particular pizza parlor? This had to be the famous, unnamed pizza parlor? Gar could have died, if it wouldn't have caused a commotion. Peachy, just peachy.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Gar lied through his teeth, smiling.
Tye leaned over and put his arm around Gar's shoulders, nudging him a bit. "Medicine can take a toll one people sometimes. Either that or he's scared to death Michael's gonna go off and call our favorite blonde before he can stop him."
Michael chose right at that minute to waltz up. "Great news!" he said excitedly. "Nicole's dropping by in about twenty minutes! Just got off the phone with her."
Kassie and Tye stared at him for about two seconds, then burst out laughing. Gar just groaned. Could this get any worse?
"Are you ready to be seated, gentlemen…and lady?"
Jason addressed the whole group as he came back from somewhere in the back of the restaurant, a warm smile on his face.
"Yeah, mate," Nick spoke up from his leaning position on the host podium. "I think there's about…seven of us? Yeah, seven, mate."
"Actually, there will be eight!"
Those who hadn't heard Michael's earlier announcement now cursed and groaned. "Michael, you fag, you didn't," John said, rubbing his temple.
Jason looked at the group, confused beyond reason. Benji shook his head and said from his spot beside Kassie, "Just ignore them, man. We'll take a table for seven."
"Yeah, ONLY seven. Just seven people. Maybe if there's no room she'll go away."
"Can we sit outside?"
"Oooh, yeah! On the patio! I wanna throw french fries at people on the street!"
"Okay, there's plenty of tables—"
"NO!"
Everyone turned around and stared at Gar, astounded at his outburst. With all eyes on him, Gar shifted uncomfortably and scratched the back of his neck. "I mean, uh, I have allergies. Bad…bad allergies. Yeah."
They continued staring at him. "Ooookay," Kassie said, breaking the silence and turning to face Jason again. "Can we just have a seat by the window?"
"Yeah, I think I can do that," Jason remarked, grabbing silverware wraps and nodding. "Right this way."
The group began chattering again, choosing to ignore Gar's exclamation and seemingly accepting his explanation. Heaving a sigh, Gar followed the group trying to keep his face from turning too red—at least he wasn't abnormally pale anymore.
Raven leaned on her elbow, cheek resting in the palm of her hand as she watched the traffic scurry down the street below. She tried to act uninterested in her friends' happy conversations talking about this or that, but couldn't help blinking or smiling the tiniest bit at some of the remarks that were thrown across the table. Their drinks had arrived a short while ago, and Kid Flash and Cyborg had decided on two types of pizza long enough to place an order. Starfire, as usual, had managed to derive the strangest choices for the toppings on her pizza and yet again the waitress had to tell Starfire toppings like whipped-cream-relish did not exist. Raven could have believed it was just another afternoon with the Titans like they used to have back when…but she knew soon her temper would be ignited as a certain someone decided to try to socialize her and gain something in return. Lately, she had been compassionate enough to spare the other Titans' misery by simply concealing her annoyance and anger until she was in the safety of her room—thinking about other things than the flapping of that buffoon's mouth while he was talking usually helped, too. Her navy eyes followed the wayward path of a stray dog on the street until he relieved himself on the pole of a parking meter, spraying someone's Mitsubishi in the process. It would only be a matter of time…
"Is that dog pissing really that interesting, Raven?"
And there it was.
Raven rolled her eyes and ripped her attention away from the street to find Kid Flash's twinkling eyes and smile focused on her. "Not particularly, just enough to keep my attention over your ramblings," Raven droned in response. Cyborg snickered and Starfire continued to rattle off different types of mustard she wanted to try, she and Robin oblivious to anything else but each other.
"Maybe you'd find our ramblings more interesting if you actually joined in?"
Raven picked a place behind Kid Flash's head to stare at, observing it with the intensity of a two-year-old watching a wanted toy. "Naming moves and scores of videogames? No thanks."
"Ha! So you were listening!"
"No, you're just that predictable." Raven watched the window behind Kid Flash, determined not to acknowledge how familiar this conversation was sounding. A bunch of kids were sitting in a large corner booth, she could see them laughing and joking around through the window…she wondered what they were talking about, they all seemed to be having such a good time…
"Ouch, that hurt," Kid Flash pouted, referring to Raven's last comment. Nonetheless, his bright eyes still twinkled. He leaned forward, closer to her, knowing she was attempting to ignore him. "But then again, if we're so predictable, it shouldn't be too hard to try and join in, you know?"
Raven sent him a glare out of the corner of her eye, and continued watching the kids through the window. She raised her eyebrows—it looked as if one of them was throwing salt from a shaker…it was hard not to snort in exasperation. She may be creepy, but at least Raven wasn't flat out weird—how most kids she saw now tended to be acting.
"It's not the joining in," Raven replied to Kid Flash absentmindedly, "It's the inability to maintain a constant stream of interesting, intelligent conversation with you." She narrowed her eyes a bit at the group…some of the faces seemed familiar, almost jogging her memory…but she couldn't place why she felt recognition…
"What do you think we're doing right now, huh?" Kid Flash continued, unaware of Raven's distracted air. Cyborg had already put in his opinion about mustard with Starfire and was now vividly discussing the delicious-factor of hot mustards, ignoring the look Robin was giving him for intruding on the conversation—no way was he gonna be involved when Kid Flash hit a nerve. He knew better than that.
"Do I look like I'm interested?" Raven shifted in her seat, trying to get a better view of the group. "Because I am definitely far from—"
She froze.
It was…him?
Gar sat at the far end of the booth, fake smile in place as he tried to hide the fact that he was terrified. The rest of his friends were loud and rambunctious, tossing bad jokes and insults at each other like beads during Marti Graw. But the mere possibility of running into the Titans here…why did this have to be their favorite hang-out spot, besides the mall? And why did his friends have to decide to go here, of all the pizza parlors. Gar was close to silent despair, watching his friends kid and laugh through clouded eyes. His day was just not getting any better, either, with Nicole on the way…maybe she'd get in a wreck, or a bus would hit her…yeah, that'd be nice…
As Gar pictured Nicole's curvy frame being obliterated by a huge, blue bus, Gar suddenly shook his head. Wait. What? Whoa whoa whoa…he was NOT going to do this. Yeah. No reason—he had no reason to be freaking out. Sure, he was in a building that triggered a bunch of painful memories for him, but he was making new ones to replace those, right? He, Garfield Logan, was out with his friends and had no reason to be afraid of some big, bad, teenage superheroes. Because he was Gar Logan, and didn't need any superheroes…and stuff…yeah. And the chance they would be at this very restaurant at this very moment eating at this very minute? Very slim. Yeah. Slim.
"Yo! Gar, I'm talkin' to you!"
"Huh what?" Gar looked up from his lap, just in time to receive a face full of salt. Eyes squeezed shut, he sat there for a couple seconds before slowly reaching up and brushing the shit off his face. "What?"
The rest of the table was finding this hilariously funny—only Kassie stopped laughing long enough to gasp, "You okay?" Nick was laughing the hardest, salt shaker still gripped in his hand. Gar rolled his eyes and shook his head, wondering exactly what kind of new memories he was creating. He would get Nick back for that, he just had to think of how…
"Ahem."
The group immediately quieted to see a barely smiling waiter standing at the front of the table, pen and pad out. "May I get you some drinks to start off with?" he asked, a mildly amused note in his voice.
"Uh, sure," Tye quickly said from across Gar, at the other end of the booth. "Sorry! I'll take…"
Ordering started going around the table, and Gar turned his attention to the view out the window and over the patio. To think a face-full of salt actually calmed him down. Gar laughed inwardly at himself, he had been so worked up over nothing. But he guessed it came with the package and all. He sighed. It was so nice outside, the afternoon sun shining lazily into the window, warming the booth nicely. Maybe he could talk everyone into going down to the bay afterwards. A couple seagulls were perched on the patio railing, swooping to the wooden floor every once and a while to pick at some unseen morsel. His forest-green eyes followed one of the birds fluttering around at the far end of the patio, choosing to finally land on the top of one of the opened umbrellas. It waltzed over to the very end of the blue-and-red striped pattern, leaning down to see if the party sitting below would care to share some crust or something. Gar followed the seagull's gaze, resisting the urge to yawn and thinking about what he wanted to drink…
If Gar had been an old man, he would have died twice that day.
Turned out a slim chance wasn't so slim after all.
Cyborg's back was moving animatedly with the wide motions he was making with his arms, Starfire laughing happily at whatever he was saying. Robin watched Starfire laugh with his own smile on his face, happy to be sitting next to her. Another guy, outfitted in orange and gold, was leaning across the table with his back to the window. He was attempting to converse with a face Gar knew all too well…
But Raven was staring directly at him.