Author's Note: Yes, I know, I should be shot and thrown into a vat of H2SO4 for making you wait so long. Rest assured, it was not my intention to do such a fiendish thing, this has actually been finished for about a week, which shows you how often I've been able to get in any quality time with Bob here. In my defense, I did not want the quality to drop like a rock and I was hoping that it's sheer size might spare me your wrath. If not, please at least read my list of excuses before you proceed with my dismemberment, thinking them up was the only thing that's kept me some what sane these past two months. At first, I thought there was nothing like history to kill a creative pup... I was wrong. Having realized this, I revised above statement to read 'nothing like history and three weeks of standardized testing'. Once again, life smacked me in the gut, and I had to revise the above statement to 'nothing like history, three weeks of standardized testing, and a week without Internet access'. For the record, this was all still a month ago. Since then, I have decided that there is nothing like two history projects on top of the already overly generous history homework and overly enthusiastic history teacher, a Math IA, The Grapes of Wrath, a Grapes of Wrath essay, a history related English research paper, another project to go with that research paper, a chemistry lab report, a scene for acting that was supposed to be five minutes long and was fifteen and was subsequently being mercilessly hacked into tiny, unrecognizable pieces that need to be memorized and preformed flawlessly in less than a week, strange new choreography for our upcoming week long concert fondly named "The Pops Concert", a book to read and analyze in French, the CAS due date looming up just around the corner, and the AP U.S. American History test hanging over my head to bludgeon, trample, mutilate, or otherwise beat the crap out of my little pup of creativity. Interspersed between all of that I had a rich variety of tests too, but that about covers it. Wow, my venting is getting to be longer than the chapter! Now please, read and enjoy.

Disclaimer: If I did own Teen Titans, do you honestly think I would have put up with the stress levels induced by above circumstances? The answerer is no, I would be lounging about in Japan, mastering the art of the Tea Ceremony and becoming a ninja. Thank You.

Raven stared blankly at the door, an expression akin to absolute shock mingled with ingeniously hidden confusion in her eyes. She had know Beast Boy for a long time, sometimes it seemed as if she had known him forever. Granted, she knew very little about Garfield, only that he came from Africa and was adopted into the Doom Patrol after the untimely death of his geneticist parents, but Beast Boy... Beast Boy was the humor obsessed, tofu consuming, shape shifting, kid of the Team. He was a goof ball, someone who could make anything funny, or at least annoying enough that your only option was to hit him. He was overly dramatic and emotional, ever optimistic, and loud. Raven could always tell what he was thinking, though most of the time she didn't need to have even the slightest amount of empathic ability for that since he was usually very vocal about it, despite her most desperate attempts to ignore him. Beast Boy was immature, clueless, illogical, lazy, and irresponsible to a degree she didn't think was possible, but at the same time he was loyal and compassionate, willing to give pretty much anyone the benefit of the doubt. He was kind and thoughtful and intuitive... sometimes, but in a pinch he would always be there for the ones he cared about.

The boy who had just stormed out of the room hadn't been that Beast Boy. In all the years they had shared the Team, he had never once confessed to feeling guilty about something. He had always pointed the finger at someone else, or shrugged it off as no big deal, or simply blushed a little and laughed after a lighthearted 'oops'. He had never commented on the physical states of those around him, at least, nothing beyond 'dude, you look nice' or 'dude, you look like you just got hit by a truck and dumped in toxic waste'. And he had never, ever, in all the time she had been around him, gotten so worked up over her personally. Sure, he had helped her out during numerous battles, but he helped everyone, right? And he was always declaring her habits unhealthy, but that was just an attempt to get on her nerves. And true, there were days when she felt like the only places in the entire Tower she could go with out feeling him watching her like some kind of self proclaimed body guard were her room and the toilet. And yes, he had gotten ridiculously tense and, in a bizarre way, almost jealous during the Malchior incident... and he had been uncharacteristically supportive for weeks afterwards, right up until she threw the tofu eggs he had brought her for breakfast (the same tofu eggs he had been feeding her for a number of days after he had given up on trying to cook any real ones and still have them be remotely edible, mind you) right into the video game system. She felt a little guilty about that one, but just a little. All right, so maybe he had fussed over her before, but he had never come out and said anything about trying to protect her, or argued with her that intensely. That wasn't the Beast Boy way.

But, somehow, it had been her Beast Boy. Beast Boy had never defied her so disparately, spoken to her so bluntly, grabbed her like that and stared at her so intently. He had never, at least, never verbally, admitted to being afraid of anything or for anyone, let alone her; nor had he ever even seemed to understand what the word 'worry' meant. She couldn't even remember the last time he had yelled at someone, let alone put his life in danger by directing his anger at her. But the strangest thing of all, the most un-Beast Boy like action, the one that really annoyed and worried her was his bluntness. Never before had he been so bold as to openly suggest that she take a day off or encourage her to 'read more depressing novels'. He had never seemed to notice when one of the Team was tired, at least, not enough to comment on it. If he had ever expressed his honest opinion so flatly before, it hadn't been to her, and if his words had ever managed to slice through tissue paper before, she hadn't heard about it. But it had been his voice, his hands, his face. That had been his grin that had faded from his face before he left, his ever hopeful grin, his stupid, trademark, overly enthusiastic grin. Those had been his eyes, his bright emerald eyes, starring down at her pleadingly, begging her to stay safe. They had been clear and innocent, though it would have been easier for her to just assume he was possessed. They hadn't been glazed over, like they had when the siren had been calling to him, there light dulled by an unseen voice beaconing him towards the sea, nor had there been even the slightest tinge of predatory yellow, nothing to adulterate the purity of his eyes. No, as much as she didn't want to admit it, as much as it bothered her- no, frightened her, there could be no doubt that that had been Beast Boy, yelling and all. She couldn't allow herself to think beyond that, anything past analysis led to feeling. Raven couldn't let herself feel, not now, not with civilians within a mile.

With a defeated sigh, she headed over to the refrigerator, hoping to clean up the mess before the other Titans got back. The interior was covered in a grotesque mixture of raw eggs and orange juice. Beast Boy's tofu seemed to be the only thing untouched, as if her subconscious mind had protected it from the explosion. She swallowed tightly, trying very hard not to think about... anything aside from her task. Gritting her teeth, she reached towards the nearest towel, not taking her eyes from the mess in the refrigerator, carefully avoiding the tofu, dampening it with water from the sink. This took several tries since a) she wasn't looking at the towel and b) she couldn't claim to be terribly focused on her task. Beast Boy was right, in a sense, she probably could use a break. When simple things like cleaning the refrigerator became a chore, it was a sign akin to something you might see in Vegas that she was tired. The tofu began to tremble beneath her gaze and she was left with little choice but to look away or be covered with old tofu. She swallowed again, ringing out the towel and shoving her hands into the slimy, slightly orange shelves, beginning to scrub. It was tedious and revolting work that could have taken about three seconds if she had been able to trust herself to use her powers without throwing the whole refrigerator into an alternate dimension or something similar happening. Raven was just as skilled as her green friend at avoiding. The tofu shook again. Raven took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered, opening her eyes and continuing to scrub, this time electing to stare at the tangled cardboard mess that had been the orange juice carton instead of the tofu. What was the big deal any way? She'd had a fight with Beast Boy, it happened all the time. True, there had been a little more physical contact than usual, and the subject matter had been a little more personal, the actual argument slightly more intimate. But the insults hadn't been any worse than they were in any other fight, right? Well, technically speaking, she really hadn't even insulted him; if anything he'd insulted her. But she had thrown him across the room, that was perfectly normal. And she had yelled at him, that happened all the time. By all definitions it had been a normal fight. So why on Earth was she so bothered by it? 'Because that wasn't a normal fight for you and Beast Boy,' whispered a voice in her head. 'That was, however, a normal lovers quarrel. Well, as normal as it can get when the lovers happen to be a pair of teen superheros.' The orange juice carton, or what was left of it, shredded itself. Raven hissed, contemplating throwing the towel, but deciding it would be to much work to have to pick it up again. Instead, she elected to to start migrating the destroyed Tupperware to the trash can, starting with that annoying carton. The refrigerator would be easier to clean without random trash getting in her way.

Frowning in disdain, she set her now slick towel next to the tofu and reached bravely into the depths of the refrigerator to begin removing the various destroyed and or mangled items. Seriously, she couldn't imagine how Beast Boy could even mention guilt or fault around her. What could he possibly have done that could compare to her track record of messing things up and getting people hurt. She had been key in ending the world for Pete's Sake, instrument in taking probably trillions of innocent lives. She had released an evil dragon back into the world because she had been stupid enough to think he actually cared about her. She had sent Dr. Light into a state of shock that was very nearly fatal simply because he had annoyed her on a bad day. Beast Boy had no idea how many times he himself had come within a millimeter of his life... how close Terra came. The plastic in her hands twisted sharply, its sharp edges biting into her pointer finger. Yelping in surprise, she dropped the plastic and grabbed her hand. A thick line of crimson liquid was already welling to the surface, shining in the artificial light of the Tower. Cursing silently, she put her finger in her mouth, carefully not thinking about any of the other substances that might have been on her skin. Blood stains terribly, so she really couldn't wipe it off on something, and Cyborg had so many devices hooked up to the sink that her blood was likely to set of some kind of alarm. The absolute last thing she needed was someone walking in on her, especially in this state.

How Beast Boy could possibly be bothered by the Teams not so odd behavior was beyond her, it wasn't like they hadn't done similar things when Robin had been kidnapped by Slade, when Cyborg had considered leaving them for Titans East, when Starfire told them she was engaged. Heck, nothing compared to when they'd found out that yours truly was going to end the world. Every time they thought they would loose one of their own, the Team reacted the same way, really, in the only way they knew how. They fought, fought against the idea, against the impulse, fought to keep their sanity and safety. Perhaps the Teen Titans didn't always get along, perhaps they had passionate disagreements, perhaps they sometimes thought they would be better off alone, but in the end, they were a Team, a pack, a little band of misfits. They needed each other, they couldn't function, couldn't be complete if they lost one. The idea of going back to being alone, a freak in a city of humans, frightened them, even Robin, who was the only full human among their ranks, felt estranged by society. They belonged together and they were willing to do whatever it took to ensure that nothing happened to break them apart. So it was only natural for everyone to worry, even obsess, when Beast Boy began to act strangely, even the thick headed green changeling had to know that. And he really had no right to be annoyed by their behavior, it would be flat out hypocritical. She remembered how he had acted when Cyborg said he was going to stay with the Titans East, and even shuddered at the memory of his fretting and fussing when the world had ended.

There was the sickening slapping sound of a slimy piece of cloth landing on a slime covered surface. Raven frowned, disposing of the rest of the mutilated items in the refrigerator quickly and returning to her scrubbing. Only tho tofu was left in its place, an almost comic reminder. There it sat, scrutinizing her as she attempted to avoid it, challenging her, accusing her. Of what, she wasn't willing to think about, but it persisted nastily.'I don't want you to get hurt because of me, all right?' She locked her jaw, scrubbing at a spot next to the tofu hard. 'Why do you care?'

'Go away,' she ordered silently, scrubbing until the plastic shelf groaned. Raven tried very hard to think about the conversation that might occur if the rest of the Titans walked in at that moment. There they'd find her, hands filthy, bent over, and cleaning of all things. Yes, she was a very cleanly and organized person, so logically, it wouldn't be all that odd to see her playing Cinderella. But she knew full well that the image of her actually doing manual labor was far more alien than anything Starfire could cook and, by Cyborg's standards, perfect blackmail material. They would probably be sufficiently weirded out if they just say her with the dish towel. Maybe, if they got back before she was finished, they'd have a good laugh. Beast Boy would come running back to see what was so funny and probably tease her mercilessly for about a week. Things would be back to normal, no more sirens, no more yellow eyes, no more acting strangely. She could forget the whole thing ever happened.

'Not until you answer my question. Why do you care?' Raven threw the towel down into the sludge, frustrated. Who was she kidding, there was no way things could go back to the way they were before. Too much had happened, too much had been said, too many questions had been answered. She knew full well why Beast Boy was so concerned about her, why he wanted her to stay at the Tower, take a break. She wasn't an idiot, nor was she blind, she knew there was more going on than he was willing to tell her, more than he even knew. Beast Boy wasn't planning anything per say, but he was getting ready for something, something big. And he didn't want to hurt his friends in the process... didn't want to hurt to woman he loved. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to her, and Raven knew that. Vexed beyond all reason, Raven grabbed the towel again and took it over to the sink in an attempt to rinse the egg and orange juice from it. He loved her, Raven knew he loved her, a part of her had known since before Starfire had even thought about saying anything to her. Beast Boy had all but told her before he had left, and she had looked into those rich, honest, emerald eyes as they sparkled with hope and said that they were just friends, then she had just watched as he left to go God knows where.

She looked down intently at the object in her hands that was slowly looking more and more like a towel, more out of a desire not to destroy the sink than any actual curiosity, noticing it for the first time. The wrinkles in its thick, spongy skin as she twisted it in her soft hands, the small lumps of the checker-board pattern, the roughness of the small rolls of polyester, still attached… but only by the thinnest of threads, some of which were only visible when the light caught them, causing them to shine. She could smell the faint lemon, worked into the very fibers by the persistent hands of time; hear the sandpaper noise of the fabric catching on the calluses of her hands. Its rich, dark color overtook her vision, engulfing the sink, the room, flowing over her hands, covering them, spreading like water colors across a wet page, thin veins reaching out to the very corners as a child's eager fingers stretch towards their first midnight sky, amazed, wondering, frail, yet somehow becoming more vibrant as they went. It consumed her world, her thoughts, all reason within her, until there was nothing but the pulsing color of the towel. It surrounded her, taunting her, annoying her, begging her, screaming, crying, pleading, loving. It was green.

The tofu exploded, spraying the entire room with little off white chunks and left over muck. Raven closed her eyes and sighed deeply, not knowing whether to laugh hysterically, blow up something else, or just fall over and cry.

When one thought of criminals, liars, thieves, murderers, the works, Beast Boy was one of the last people that came to mind. He was small, his body thin and rather frail looking, his muscles fine and comparable to coils of rope. And frankly, he was the shortest male member on the Team by a good foot, and second overall, only managing to top Raven (by two inches, but that still counted). He was very aware of this fact and chose to rub it in whenever he could, usually earning himself a good smack and providing the rest of the Team with valuable entertainment in the process. Which leads us into point two, Beast Boy acted like he'd never hit puberty. He was about as animated as a Loony Tune, always ready with random objects that seemed to appear from nowhere and a stupid, immature joke. He had next to no clue when to give someone their space, electing to instead see just how many buttons he could push before severe physical damage was inflicted. The Tower had a special insurance plan just for damages inflicted by Beast Boy's flying body colliding with unusual spaces. He didn't seem capable of putting the 'enough is enough' philosophy into practice. He was always acting like a total idiot in public, giving the media almost every bit of dirt they had on the Titans. This led to the overall impression that Beast Boy was, in fact, an idiot, a public opinion that, if anything, he encouraged. The boy always had that stupid grin on his face, his voice was high pitched, his ears were pointed, and he ate tofu. Yeah... there's a criminal if the public ever saw one. He was green, for crying out loud.

Jump had real criminals, a substantial 'big' crime rate, super villains to rival Gotham. They had seen a super villain before, had been evacuated due to one of their 'ingenious plans', had felt their power, had feared their intentions. They knew a criminal when they saw one, though only a select few had ever managed to catch the slightest glimpse and they usually lived to regret it. Super villains were almost like ghosts in the streets, a glimmer of orange here, a flash of pink their, and suddenly the building was falling over. That's not to say that the villains of Jump were by any means discreet, just fast, precise, and deadly. It was only during the street fights that the public got any kind of idea of exactly what theses ghosts looked like, what they were capable of. But the Titans were always there during those fights (it really wouldn't be much of a fight without an opponent, one of the good guys, would it?), usually getting the crap beaten out of them during the first round. That's what defined a super villain in the eyes of the Jump city public, the ability to beat the Titans, to get away with it, so to speak. If they were capable of that, then they were worthy of the title, worthy of Jump's fear. But in the end, the Titans always triumphed, putting the villains back into their place, protecting their city and it's people.

Beast Boy was a Titan. He was part of the Team, one of the super heroes that protected Jump from the super villains. Granted, he was the most comic member, cracking jokes even on the battle field with no drop in buoyancy or quality, though that really wasn't saying much. But despite this apparent lack of concern, he was always there to save the day, to 'kick the butt' as Starfire so loved to put it. He always fought as hard and for as long as he had to, throwing himself quite readily into danger, usually getting himself hurt on some stupid impulse and falling into line behind Robin, fighting until they had won or until there wasn't anyone left there to fight. He never gave up, he never slowed down, he never had any doubts, he was one of the constant defenders of the city. So, as far as the public was concerned, Beast Boy was a hero, a Titan, someone they could always count on. They didn't ever need to worry about him turning on them, after all, there wasn't a bad bone in his body, and who would want to use Beast Boy in some kind of master plan. Robin was understandable, he did have a creepy, obsessive side that could turn him bad in a nightmare, and Raven was just flat out strange, if she turned into a pink bunny the size of Titans Tower, the population of Jump might have been surprised by the fact that it was pink. But Beast Boy? Not even in a bad Sci Fi movie.

Unfortunately, Jump didn't have all the facts... not even close. They didn't know that Beast Boy used to be Garfield Mark Logan, the only son of Marie and Mark Logan. They had no clue what happened to him, that he had contracted Sakutia at the ripe age of between 2 and 4 (even he wasn't quite sure when) and if it weren't for his geneticist parents he would have died. That instead, he had been turned green and given the ability to shape shift by his father's experimental ray, that was originally designed to reverse evolution (by turning him into a green monkey, to be exact). They didn't know that Garfield had been adopted by an African king and was technically the prince of a tribe. The public couldn't imagine that their dear little hero had been kidnapped by two jewel thieves and taken to Johannesburg, or that he'd led an army of gorillas to revolt against their captors, like a general instructing soldiers. They didn't know that he had watched his parents die, that he had just watched them as they slid over the edge into their deafening graves when he'd had the power to save them. They were completely unaware that he had been responsible for the deaths of his kidnappers, that he had watched them too, his young eyes wide as they shot each other, his young voice stalled in his throat. They were blissfully unaware that their very own pet changeling had once been America's most wanted eight year old. They had no idea that he had once been a thief himself, stealing "Easter eggs from the Easter Bunny" and "yellow blocks to play with". The people of Jump City, protectorate of the Teen Titans, of Beast Boy, could never imagine how well Stokes and Kurt had coached him.

And, probably the most important, the most disturbing thing that they didn't know, was that Beast Boy was hearing voices, a voice to be specific, telling him what he needed to do... and he was obeying. Zinara had told him to get the Half Heart, but more than that, she had told him to be discreet. She'd said that no one could know it was him, that they wouldn't understand what they were trying to do. And she was right, he knew that now; what they were doing wasn't wrong or misguided, it was necessary; but the others wouldn't, couldn't understand that, they would try and stop him from freeing her. He couldn't have that. So, as much as it used to bother him, he had to keep the others from discovering his plans,and the best way to do that was to actually make plans. The best way not to get caught is to have an unbreakable alibi, to have a perfectly good explanation for why you could possibly be suspect, and, if your innocent eyes don't work, to pin it on someone else. Now that was the tricky part, finding someone who would be interested in robbing a museum in the first place, so the event itself wouldn't be suspicious, then talking them into helping him. None of Jump's "super" super villains, Slade, the Hive Five, Brother Blood, ect., would work since a) they would never even consent to a meeting, b) if he got that far, they would try and manipulate him into giving up something he'd rather not in exchange, and probably succeed, considering his current desperation, and c) they were just too neat for the job. Big super villains were arrogant, their ego well earned, but a little too flaunted none the less. They were quite capable of slipping in and out unnoticed, like shadows across the floor, but had a nasty tendency of tripping the alarm to annoy the Titans or just for fun. They were fully aware of their abilities and, unlike the Titans, were unafraid to unleash their wrath on any one who dared to oppose them, witch usually landed them in jail or with a grudgingly defeated opponent. But did they ever intentionally get caught, no. They flaunted their abilities, danced just out of reach as if to put on a show, but they never threw themselves into the warden's waiting arms. No one would ever believe that one of the evil icons of the city had stooped to looting a small museum exhibit for nothing more than a piece of quarts witch emitted bizarre, yet harmless radiation at pulsating intervals.

On the other hand, some petty thug off the street would be of no help either. They were too sloppy, too predictable. It was only rarely that one of them even got past the first set of alarms, and even when they did, they still seemed completely unaware of the silent alarm systems and cameras. How they managed that, Beast Boy had absolutely no clue, though he did try and ask once after they'd caught a particularly stupid duo, earning himself a slap across the face from Raven and the honor of having some new profanities he wasn't even aware existed thrown at him. He didn't bother to ask what they meant, too honored to have been selected as their test subject to really care. Small criminals were more likely to just role over like dogs at his feet, but they also had bigger mouths. If word got out that he was asking favors of the gum on Jump's shoe, well, the media would be happy. Unfortunately, Beast Boy would be in a padded room waring some kind of demonic strait jacket that could stretch to fit a mammoth with doctors poking, prodding, asking unwanted questions. Besides, even if some little pick pocket did manage to do as he asked, the job would be too tiny for the Titans, the police would storm in and take care of it and Beast Boy would be back at square one. An entire plan wasted. Wouldn't even be worth trying.

So that left him with someone in the middle, one of the 'wanna be' super villains that prowled the alleys of Jump like a kitten int the jungle, trying to compete with the tigers. No, kitten inferred that they could 'grow up' and get better, more like a lost house cat hunting the panther's prey. One of the little guys that got stepped on, thrown in jail, managed to dig out using sporks, tried the same thing again, got caught and laughed at, thrown back in jail, found some other creative way out, and repeated the cycle till Judgment Day. This type of criminal was neat enough to get in, but just sloppy enough to get caught on their way to the exit due to some stupid mistake like victory dancing across the laser beam. They were arrogant enough to challenge the Titans, but so afraid for their wealth, power, and lives that it wouldn't take too many negative incentives to get them to fetch. They were rather pathetic on many levels, but just dangerous enough to be out of the common cops league, what with their usually manufactured abilities. And, most importantly of all, they were unpredictable, a random element in an otherwise ordered system, a wild card in the game of Go Fish the villains of Jump played. Whatever they did, whether it was streaking or breaking into some strange, original place for the sake of being the first to break in, no one was surprised. These criminals were practically incapable of doing anything that didn't seem to coincide with their own, demented little agendas. They break in, make some noise, knock a few things over, the Titans get called in, they hide, Titans look, Garfield gets what Garfield wants, bad guy slips away, people blame the theft on them. And if the Titans caught his puny pawn, it would be easy enough to convince them the criminal had hidden it. Titans spend the next week looking and by the time they realize that they were the victims of the greatest prank ever, Zinara would be free. Piece of cake with mint frosting. Now all he had to do was set the stage, and Beast Boy had a prop in mind.

He sat on a hill about 50 feet from the Jump middle security prison, scrutinizing it smugly. His eyes, glinting a sickly shade of yellow in the moonlight, narrowed, his lips twisting slightly. At his side, a large hunk of recently repaired red metal lay, like a fallen giant, or a host waiting for the return of its symbiont. Enemies made dangerous friends, but effective enough puppets, especially when you had little to no problem with cutting the strings as soon as they resisted, so to speak. Besides, there is something oddly satisfying, if not exceedingly childish, about watching someone you don't like get in trouble. Same goes for manipulating your least favorite person, getting the mouse to go exactly where you want it to, toying with your prey before you go in for the kill. A primal smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but he took a deep breath to calm himself anyway. There was no use in getting distracted. Zinara was not impatient, but she did have a knack for making him feel anxious. Slowly, Beast Boy exhaled, the yellow in his eyes fading to a luminous emerald, his senses sharpening. The dry air of dusk, perfumed by moist grass and dandelions, tickled the back of his throat. The shadows melted away as the earth pulled them into itself with all color, leaving only sharp, gray images to the horizon, clear and perfect. His breath slid past his lips, warming them before the chilled night air flowed across his tongue, bringing the near by peaches with it. A cat screeched loudly on the edges of Jump and a cricket began to sing somewhere behind him, and in the distance, he could hear the collective breath of the prison, the mutters of the prison guards, the conspiring and gloating of the stock. Beast Boy tilted his head to the side in an almost inhuman way, allowing his spine to crack loudly.

Before the grass could straiten, he was gone, streaking across the field silently. He didn't slow, he didn't pause, his presence little more than a breeze to any one not watching. The security systems were tight, motion and heat sensors rigged to the alarm system, cameras everywhere, 'power proof' doors and wiring, a rich variety of barriers to keep people in and out, there were even anti-demon runes on the walls. Robin had personally tested every conceivable entrance, forcing improvements until neither Starfire or Cyborg could blast their way through and even the great Boy Wonder himself couldn't make it past the third blockade without at least tripping an alarm. Raven had been able to simply teleport past anything that might have possibly had any effect on her any way, hence the anti- demon runes. They hadn't thought to test Beast Boy, since if a super strong alien, a cyborg, a half- demon and the prime choice to be Slade's apprentice couldn't make it, then what chance did a beaver have. Yes, all things considered, the prison was quite formidable, it was really quite amazing that its contents managed to get out so often... good planning, perhaps. So why was he so confident? The reason wasn't terribly complicated, a simple matter of logic really. See, all it's daunting walls, in all their glory, only applied it you happened to be human (shaped any way) and had a set mass. The ventilation system, the structure's only conceivable weakness, a flaw that only existed because of sheer necessity, was indeed narrow, just big enough to push a thin stream of air into the compound and between the cells, just big enough for a finger, just big enough for northern hairy-nosed wombat, though not by much. He slipped through the vents as a gnat, letting the air current pull him in, shifting as soon as he was clear, speeding down the shaft, only pausing to sniff out his target or check to make sure he hadn't managed to trip some type of alarm. Hell would freeze over first, but he couldn't allow himself to get caught, least of all here.

Adonis was sitting on what passed as his bed, stick legs dangling to the ground, chin propped in his open palm, probably venting about his latest failed attempt at greatness. He was staring moodily at the wall in front of him, as though it was somehow responsible for his predicament, his gaze so intent that he didn't notice the small, emerald primate slide down his wall. He didn't see it look at him smugly and begin to contort and grow, nor did he see it become a green man in the shadows. It wasn't until Beast Boy snorted in amusement that the villain even knew he had company. Clearly annoyed, he turned sharply to protest, but the words died on his lips, coming out as more of a choked exhale than anything. Emerald eyes glinted in the darkness, not quite yellow, but still almost glowing, a slim figure appeared to tower dangerously, the shadows twisting its shape into something so far from it's true form it was almost laughable. In a way, this twisted creature made more sense than what stepped forward.

"Hello Adonis," said the changeling casually, giving him a dark grin. The villain almost stepped back, but, regaining his composure, instead elected to get closer, jutting his chin out and pulling himself up to his full height.

"Come to get your butt whooped, shrimp," he challenged cockily. Garfield's grim spread, but nothing else moved. His eyes glinted strangely as he met Adonis's gaze, sending goose bumps across his skin. "Well?" Garfield remained silent and still, grinning, amused. Adonis ground his teeth, his nostrils flaring nervously. He had fought this boy before, beaten him easily, claimed his prize over the vocal objections of this little twerp. True, at their last meeting, he had been on the loosing side, but that's only because he was having a bad day. There was little doubt in his mind that if they fought again, he would win, even without his suit. Yet there was something, maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to glow, or that grin of his, or the overall feeling that it was someone else in the changeling's skin, that was making that doubt grow, bubbling up inside him. He set his jaw determinedly and prepared to strike. No answer was as good as a 'hit me' for Adonis. Before he had finished forming a fist he was kneeling on the ground, clutching his stomach. Garfield squatted beside him, still grinning. "What- the hell is- wrong- with you," he gasped before he could think of something more insulting.

"You know, there's something almost, I don't know... cute about you when you think you can beat me," Garfield commented casually. "Like a puppy barking at a wolf. Of course, the puppy doesn't stand a chance, that's a little sad. But the funny part is... he doesn't seem to know that." Adonis snarled, his pride unable to withstand the bashing, and attempted to knock Garfield of his feet. The changeling lept nimbly out of the way, pushing off the wall and landing lightly on Adonis's back. "Like I said," he whispered into his ear, his fingers finding his hair. "Almost cute... but not quite." He yanked back, causing Adonis's head to jerk and a sharp yelp to slip between his teeth.

"And what makes you so confident all of a sudden? You're girlfriend finally give you a pity date," he hissed, his lips twisting into something between a sneer and a grimace. Garfield raised his eye brows, smirk almost faltering. Adonis's grin grew smugly, feeling truly pleased with himself; Garfield rolled his eyes and pulled back again, relishing his moment of pain.

"Be quiet," he said lazily, releasing Adonis and moving towards what appeared to be the door, inspecting it. Adonis got up quickly, rubbing his head and scrutinizing the green boy. Sure, he looked like the annoying little Titan, but there was just something... wrong about him. He couldn't put his finger on it, but his muscles had tensed and every fiber of his being was telling him to run. But the male ego is a surprisingly suicidal force. With a war cry, Adonis took another swing at the back of Garfield's head, grinning triumphantly when he didn't react. Next thing he knew, he was on his knees again with his wrist in a painfully twisted position before him, staring into a pair of gleaming green eyes. "Perhaps I picked the wrong person," the green boy mused quietly. "If you can't even follow a simple direction, then how can I expect you to be of any use to me? Oh well, there are others." Adonis opened his mouth to demand what he meant by that, but he didn't have time to get past the first syllable. Garfield threw him carelessly across the room, slamming him into the opposite wall. Before he could slide down to collapse on the cement floor, the changeling had caught him again, pinning his throat to the wall with his forearm. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. His feet were slowly being lifted from the ground, his back grinding harshly against the cement wall. Slowly, his vision started to darken, everything but Garfield's green eyes flickering. He was going to die, the changeling was going to strangle him in his own cell, and the last thing he would see would be that idiot's smirking face. No, he was meant for more than this, for more than to be murdered for talking out of line, he couldn't let it end like that-

"Wait- wait," he choked out, barely conscious, hands clawing futilely at Garfield's arm. The changeling looked annoyed, his grin sliding into a line, his lips pouting forward slightly. "Wait- please- wait," Adonis pleaded, barely audible.

"What, do you want to say your 'last words'? You want me to get you a last meal," said Garfield sarcastically. Then his mouth twisted back into its smirk, his eyes gleaming in the half-light. "Or have you decided you can be a good little human?"

"Yes," Adonis muttered hesitantly. Garfield pressed against his throat harder, squeezing the breath out of him. "Yes," he said louder, closing his eyes in humiliation. Garfield released him, allowing him to crumple to the floor, gasping. He scooted away from the changeling, grasping his neck.

"What in the world made you choose the name Adonis any way," Garfield asked, casually leaning against the wall across from the recovering man, his eyes luminous. He didn't respond, refusing to give the green boy the satisfaction of hearing him answer. "I know the myth of Adonis, the ever-youthful, annually-renewed vegetation God. Something tells me that that's not who you thought he was though. You were probably going off of the more modern idea that he's some kind of super-man. Is that who you're trying to be, a super-man? Is that why you named yourself after him?" Adonis set his jaw stubbornly, attempting to use the wall to help himself back to his feet. Garfield watched, and grinned... that feral grin that sent shivers down his spine and goosebumps across his skin. "It's kinda sad, actually," Garfield continued coolly. "Don't you wanna know why." There it was, a flicker of the Titan, a flicker of Beast Boy. Adonis turned to face him, bolder than was probably wise.

"Why's that," he bit off the rest of his comment, loving life too much to throw it away on something as stupid as insulting a changeling when he was stuck in a cage with it. Garfield's feral grin widened, Beast Boy was gone again.

"Because you're nothing more than a pathetic human, a parasite, a plague. You can try all you want, you can try to be great, try to be worth something, but in the end, it's just not in your blood. But you know what makes humanity so incredibly annoying, what takes away all compassion that I would feel for any other type of animal?" Garfield's voice had taken on a strange type of resonance, vibrating powerfully in the air, echoing around the room, his eyes a sickly yellow green. Adonis stepped back, nodding meekly. "It's that you don't seen to realize that. You think you're the greatest thing that ever walked this planet, that every other creature must be inferior, that their only purpose is to serve you in whatever manner you see fit and then die. You expect to rule the word, you can't even decide which of your own breeds is better, which one id 'more worthy'. It's sickening. And you're the worst of the worst, the sludge at the bottom of the all ready disgusting pit, you and all others like you. A human, trying to compete with his betters, trying to be what he so clearly is not," Garfield snorted, his nostrils flaring as if he could smell something particularly putrid. "Trying to fly when you quite obviously never had and never will have wings. And the worst part is, you actually thing you've done it. It's pitiful."

"If you hate me so much, then why the visit," demanded Adonis, concentrating more on not hitting Garfield than what he was saying. The changeling relaxed slightly, his eyes fading back to their luminous emerald.

"Because," ha stated calmly, as if he couldn't remember his speech not two seconds before. "I need a wind up mouse to set loose in the museum. It would be so much more dramatic if I could say that I need you for this, but I really don't. There are plenty of others that are equally well suited to this task."

"Then why me? Wouldn't you rather I 'rot in here'? Isn't that what you Titans tell me every time you throw me back into this cell, 'You can just rot in here'."

"Do you want the truth?" Adonis scoweled, which Garfield took as a 'please, I would love it if you would tell me the truth,' and proceeded. "I really don't like you, I can't really say why at the moment, I just really don't like you. They know that, so if you're running loose, they're more likely to let me come on the hunt. And there's something there, at the museum, that I need, something they stole. But, a Titan turning thief? That's just a little to ironic for my tastes. So I send you in to make a racket and hide. The Titans come looking for you, giving me a chance to take what I need, you go free, go putter around Gotham for all I care, until you do something stupid and get caught again, I keep my clean name, every one goes home happy. So, you in or out?"

"What happens if I'm out," Adonis asked cautiously.

"Well, then I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you. Can't have you gossiping about my little visit, you understand," shrugged Garfield casually.

"You can't kill me."

"Can't?" Garfield's luminous eyes locked onto his, amused and dangerous.

"Can't, you're a Titan, you probably don't even know how to kill. Your record's clean as a new born's conscience."

"You'd be surprised," grinned Garfield, back to his earlier, cocky state. "But is that really a risk you're willing to take?" Adonis stared at him, shocked, afraid. Those eyes... who's ever they were, were serious, and they found the prospect... entertaining. He swallowed hard and nodded.

"I'm in."

"I thought you might say that. When the doors open, you'll be given a clear path out of here. You're suit is about 50 feet to the East. Put it on and head strait to the museum. Don't get caught on your way there, but do trip some sort of alarm after you've been inside long enough to leave a trail in every room. When the Titans show up, hide. As soon as they're distracted, make a run for it. What happens after that isn't my concern. It'll be at least a day, so don't get too antsy, you'll make the guards suspicious."

"The Titans are going to be distracted, allowing me to make my escape," said Adonis sceptically.

"Trust me, they'll be distracted, just don't stay to watch the show," Garfield called over his shoulder. "Oh, and Adonis, try to keep your mouth shut about this, or I might have to kill you any way," his eyes flashed a glowing, yellow-green, his fangs gleaming in the light as he smiled fiendishly. He held up one hand carelessly for inspection, watching casually as his gloved fingers lengthened into claws. He flexed these, cracking the knuckles to make his point. Adonis bit his tongue. "See you soon, human." and with that, he disappeared back into the air vent, leaving Adonis blissfully alone again. All the villain could do was back up into his bed and collapse on it, trembling.