Not Really All That Subtle

By Concolor44

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A/N: Takes place just after "Things Change", which episode, in my humble opinion, should never have been aired. This story is the progeny of yet another plot bunny that refused to die.

Note of interest: Lisa's name comes from my admiration for a similar character in the stories "Coincidence and Misunderstandings" and "Consequences of Misunderstandings" by Silently Watches. If you haven't read them, you're missing a treat.

And, as usual, I don't have any stake, financial or otherwise, in the Teen Titans. I realize no gain from this or any other such bit of fan-fiction that I might produce. Those who do would be the Cartoon Network, Time-Warner, DC Comics, and all their affiliates and assigns.

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Jump City, September 12, 4:22pm

"Hey, Jaz, wait up!" called a petite blonde.

Her friend, slender and dark-skinned with a long, bouncy pony-tail, turned and smiled, pausing until the other girl caught up. "Hey, Lisa! Thought you were goin' to the library."

"I did. They didn't have the book, said it was available in e-form only. I'm s'posed to look it up online."

"Oh, okay."

They walked several paces in companionable silence before Jazmyn asked, "That Beast Boy guy leavin' you alone?"

Lisa huffed an exasperated sigh and muttered, "I wish." She continued, as she pushed her long, straight hair back over one ear, "I thought when I told him last week that I wasn't that 'Terra' girl he was pining over that he'd take a hint."

"But, no?"

"Not really. I mean … okay, he hasn't actually come up and talked to me, but …"

"Yeah?"

"… Okay, well, you know, I went to the Titans' Tower with him that first day, right?"

"Yeah."

"An' he showed me all kinds of stuff about Terra. Showed me her room."

"Yeah, you said that."

"There was this little jewelry box or something. Little heart-shaped box. He said he made it for m- … um, for her."

Jazmyn gave her a narrow eye for a couple of seconds. "Yeah. So?"

"It was on my window sill this morning."

"Oh!" Jazmyn rubbed at one of her arms. "Dang! Goosebumps!"

"Uh-huh."

"Sounds like he's got a serious thing for you, girl."

A new voice asked, "Who's got a thing?"

The two girls turned to look at the fiery redhead who had walked up behind them, and Jazmyn said, "Hey, Maeve. That Beast Boy character. He left Lisa an 'anonymous' present at her window this morning."

"… Crap."

"Uh-huh."

"… Can you take out a restraining order on a Titan? Would they even do that?"

Lisa was quick to placate her. "Don't worry about it. He's not dangerous. Not to me, anyhow. He's just … persistent."

"He's gonna persist himself into my fist!"

Lisa had to giggle at that.

Jazmyn tugged on her arm and pointed to a news stand. "Hold on. Gotta get a paper."

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Lisa quipped, "Not the horoscope again? Seriously? You know that's all crap!"

"Is not. Okay, so maybe they don't always get little details right, but …"

"I don't suppose," inquired Maeve, "that I could get you two to just shut the hell up about that? You do this every time."

They waited, Lisa tapping her foot in silent but very obvious impatience, while Jazmyn bought her paper and folded it open to the horoscope. "Okay, lessee … Lisa, you're a Virgo." She popped her eyes up above the paper briefly. "And you got a birthday comin' up. Don't you think for a second we forgot."

Lisa groaned softly.

"Huh. Says here you got an unexpected meeting in the next few days."

"Which could apply just as well to three-fourths of the country. They do that on purpose."

Jazmyn said, "Maybe Beast Boy's gonna show up at your house with flowers."

"And maybe," growled Maeve, "Lisa can douse 'em in gas set 'em on fire."

The blonde shook her head, trying to hide a smile. "I don't have a gas can."

"Borrow mine?"

"Figures you'd have one."

Jazmyn's gaze flicked back to the paper. "Okay, and Maeve … yeah. Hee-hee!"

"What?"

"You need to work on 'conflict resolution'."

"No. I don't."

"Gasoline? Fire? Sounds like conflict to me."

"Humph. If violence isn't solving your problems, you just aren't using enough of it."

They walked on, the good-natured and animated argument killing time, until they came to Lisa's cross street where she bid them goodbye and turned left.

As she walked away, a hidden figure tracked her progress from across the street, moving to follow when she'd put a couple of blocks between them.

Lisa's home was relatively modest for the neighborhood, a four-bedroom split-level of pale beige brick on a decent lot. Her adoptive parents, though currently comfortable financially, each had large student loans that had eaten up a major portion of their incomes for a decade and a half after college. That was one of the reasons they didn't get married any sooner than they did. Consequently, they weren't nearly as affluent as most of their neighbors, but they had careers they loved, a strong, loving marriage … and now a daughter to love as well.

The girl skipped up the flagstone walk and into the front door. "I'm home!"

Her father's voice wafted back, "I'm in the study."

Quickly bouncing upstairs to the room in question, she slipped in and walked over to her father, leaning in and giving him a quick hug. "Hi, Dad."

"Hey, Sweetie." He pushed his chair back from a very cluttered desk and stretched before asking, "How was school?"

She moved some of the junk out of the way and perched on the corner of the desk. "Same ol'- same ol'. Still hate biology."

He chuckled. "Think you'll ever be able to smell formaldehyde again without gagging?"

"Not a chance. Stupid, rotten shark."

"I'm sorry, Hon, but it could be worse. I had to dissect a fetal pig and a stray cat."

"Bleah!"

"I know. Why do you think I became a writer instead of a medical examiner?"

"Maybe 'cause you stank at biology?"

He crossed his eyes. "Maybe 'cause biology stank."

Lisa giggled at the squinched-up face he made. "Well, hate it or not, I've got homework."

"Guess you better get to it, then."

" 'kay, Dad." She dropped a kiss on his forehead and then took a detour through the kitchen to snag an apple before heading up to her room. Neither of them had any way of knowing that their conversation was being monitored – and recorded – via a very sophisticated set of bugs that had been placed in the house several weeks earlier.

A little over an hour later, Lisa was kicked back on her bed, earbuds pumping in an indie techno band at near-painful levels, when her mother stuck her head in the door. "Hey, Lisa."

Popping out the earbuds and hitting a button on her music player, she sat up and smiled. "Hi, Mom. What's up?"

"You ever heard of The Partnership for Excellence in Blended Families?"

"… The who?"

"Okay, me neither. But they've heard of you."

Lisa's deeply puzzled face made her mother chuckle. "It's a support service for adoptive families."

"Oh! Ooookay … and we need support?" Lisa was still confused. "News to me."

The twinkle in her mother's eye indicated that she knew more than she was letting on. "Come downstairs with me and we'll find out together."

This was shortly accomplished. Her mother led them out to the backyard gazebo, positioned in the center of a large and carefully-raked rock garden, and then her parents were introducing Lisa to a distinguished elderly gentleman in a light-gray suit with a plum-colored tie, wearing a patch over his right eye. She gave him a firm handshake.

"Lisa," added her father, "this is Mr. Wilson. He's with the Partnership for Excellence."

"Yeah, Mom told me. Pleased to meet you, sir."

"Oh, the pleasure is mine, I'm sure." They all sat. "Did your mother tell you why I'm here?"

Lisa glanced between her parents, both of whom had large grins. "Uh, no. Not yet. What's up?"

"Hon," said her mother, gripping her hand in glee, "Mr. Wilson's group is offering you a scholarship!"

"… Wait, what? Scholarship? But … but my grades really aren't that good …"

"It is not about grades, young lady, but potential. Also, while it is true that biology may not be your forte," and here he gave her parents a wink, "your math skills are quite impressive."

"Yeah, well, math's easy." She shuddered briefly. "Nothin' to cut up in math. Nothin' to squirt stinky slime on you."

"Our group," continued Mr. Wilson, "is committed to helping overcome the unique challenges of the adoptive family. We feel that, should you decide to pursue a career in mathematics, it would only be fair to compensate you for the effort."

"Compensate?"

Her father stated, "He's talking about twenty grand a year, paid to the college of your choice."

Lisa's eyes got huge.

At that point her mother's cell phone deedled a certain tune, pulling a frown across her face. She muttered, "Please excuse me," and got up, walking toward the house while answering the call.

Mr. Wilson's brow knitted in concern as they watched her leave. "Nothing serious, I hope?"

"Uh … well, Marjorie works for a pharmaceutical R&D lab. That ringtone is the one she uses for her office."

"Oh, dear."

"It may not be anything. They call her all the time for direction. See, she's got this project …"

His wife came hurrying back to the gazebo, her face the picture of frustration. "Dave, I'm sorry! That new high-speed micro-factory …"

"They need you to come in?"

"Yes, blast it. Kervin's out of the country this week and they can't get Susan to answer her phone. I'm next in the queue."

"Well, if you have to go, better get going."

They both apologized profusely to Mr. Wilson, who was the very image of calm reason. "It is no bother, truly. I certainly understand. You were both too kind to see me on such short notice in the first place. Please, go attend to your work. We can go over the rest of the details when you return."

Thanking him again, Lisa's mother hurried off to her lab.

Mr. Wilson turned to Lisa's father. "Mr. McMahan, I would not fault you at all if you were to …"

Another ringtone cut the air and this time Lisa's father got an annoyed look on his face. He pulled out the device, grimaced and said, "Well, snap. Thought I recognized … yeah, it's my editor. Why's he even …" Making a gesture that indicated he'd be right back, Mr. McMahan got up and stalked into the house.

Neither Lisa nor Mr. Wilson said anything for a few moments. Then the old gentleman said, "That should keep them both occupied for a bit."

Lisa startled and asked, her voice cracking, "What … what do you mean?"

"I think you know perfectly well the real reason I am here, Terra."

"… Who?"

"Please. I am not Beast Boy, to be put off with lame excuses and transparent fabrications. I know who you are. And I know that you know who you are."

"What does that Beast Boy guy have to do with …"

"I had been waiting for the effects of your imprisonment to wear off. I was confident they would, and that it was only a matter of time."

Lisa's eyes went very round.

"You see, my dear apprentice, I do not give up so easily. Not when the stakes are this high."

"Who are you?"

"You are very well aware of that, too, Terra. Please do not insult my intelligence by denying it again."

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but she remained silent.

"I came by today to let you see how this is going to work. You will accept the scholarship. You will move from your current school to a 'special' school, a place quite removed from here, where you will receive intensive individual attention." He leaned forward slightly to emphasize his point. "My individual attention."

"But I don't … I mean, I'm not …"

"You may not be now. That is true. But I have every confidence that we can get you to remember, and revive your abilities, and … renew our bond." He smirked. "You really are becoming quite a lovely young woman. Not the spindly, gawky teen who first came to me for help."

"… I … I don't want …"

"That, my dear, is entirely inconsequential. What you will do is obey me."

A faint line of 'stubborn' invested her jaw. "And if I refuse?"

"That would be … unwise. And very unpleasant for your dear, kind adoptive parents."

The 'stubborn' was joined by 'rage'. "You leave them alone! They never did anything to you!"

"Indeed. And they will remain perfectly safe, as long as you do exactly what I tell you to do." He pulled out a small, rectangular device. "On the other hand …"

She eyed the thing in sudden alarm. "What's that?"

"Do you recall when your father was in Atlanta last month and slipped and fell in the lobby of his hotel?"

"… Uh … yeah." That question seemed like the king of all non-sequiturs. "Why … how do you know about …"

"He needed a quick trip to the emergency room, did he not?"

"… Uh-huh."

"Then week before last your mother had her annual physical."

That he had all this information chilled Lisa to the bone. She just stared at him.

"In both cases they were attended by physicians who were, shall we say, temporarily in my employ."

She couldn't make any words come out of her mouth.

"Each of your parents now has implanted within their bodies a tiny device. When activated by the proper signal, it will release a particularly virulent poison."

"No!"

"Oh, certainly not. If you do as I say."

Lisa stared at him. Then her eyes jerked to the remote. Then her face settled into a mask of resignation. She whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry for what? Leaving my service? Pretending to be something you're not? Surely you don't believe …"

That was when one of the rocks in the garden, a round, white stone about the size of her fist, hit the back of his hand at half the speed of sound. The hand, and the remote it had held, were both pulverized, blood spraying across the gazebo's clean, wooden boards.

Mr. Wilson gave a strangled cry, but then many, many rocks, from every point in the garden, pounded into him, knocking the air from his lungs, breaking bones, picking him up out of his seat and quickly covering him completely, save for the one eye.

Lisa stood and walked the few steps to stand in front of him. "What I'm sorry for ... is having to kill you. I didn't want to do it." She shook her head. "You should have believed me. You should have just let it go. Should have let me go. But instead," and here her eyes grew stormy, her face set in fury, "instead, you decided to threaten the lives of my parents. Yeah, maybe I've only even known 'em less than a year. But I love them. And they love me. And you," she said, moving a little closer, "are not going to hurt them – or anyone else – ever again."

He tried to say something, but couldn't move his mouth.

"And for your information, the effect didn't 'wear off'. I overcame it. In that tomb of rock, I practiced and practiced and strained and worked until I regained control. Complete control. As you'd put it, mastery."

The terrified eye disappeared behind a wall of gravel. The rocks began to grind against each other, then to flow and melt until Mr. Wilson's form was covered in a seamless cocoon of stone. Then it began to stretch and attenuate, getting smaller and smaller in the middle until finally, with a muted pop, it separated into two parts. This stony mitosis was repeated, yielding four large rocks. Then again, and again, and again, and again …

After a couple more minutes, the round, white stones of the rock garden, all now very slightly larger than they had been, settled back into their places, a few of them having already scrubbed the blood off the floor. Lisa smoothed her skirt, shook her head, drew a long sigh, and went back into the house to find her father and inform him that Mr. Wilson had been very suddenly called away.

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A/N: Yeah, I think Terra's pretty much a badass. Let me know what You think, eh?