Sapphire Bullets
DC - Yo. This is my first Teen Titans fanfic, so I thought I'd just pop this in here to let you know that the pairing is Raven and Beast Boy, sort of. I'm probably going to add more chapters soon as I can, but I'd like to know if it'll be worth it first. So, if you could review, I'd be extremely grateful. Anyway, shall we continue?
Disclaimer – I don't own Teen Titans. However, I do own the rights to the cheap Puerto-Rican bootleg, Titan Teens. I'm taking all offers, people.
"Are you sure we got the right person?" She asked, leaning in close to her partner, a fixed grin on her face, trying not to alarm the person facing them, assembling his equipment.
"Positive." He reassured her, nodding in a satisfied manner.
"It's just that I never imagined him like this, you see…" She hissed, not wanting to be heard. There was a dull, metallic thunk. Her partner shrugged.
"So he's updated his image and his kit. Why can't he move with the times, too?"
"I'm not saying that. I'm just making sure we have…him, rather than just some nut with a Winchester rifle." She whispered. Without looking up, the figure interrupted their conversation.
"It's not a Winchester rifle, madam. Plainly you know nothing about guns. This is a Gibbs Quest Three Extreme Carbine rifle, with 2A Chrome Vanadium steel barreled action, and whilst it is chambered for the powerful .308 Winchester, it adds the benefits of polymer stocks to the design. It has a weatherproof electroless nickel finish, a ten round chamber, and a unique compensator/flash-hider that tames recoil and reduces muzzle jump, and I have had it modified to use my preferred scope, the Aimpoint Comp ML2."
She blinked. Whatever he had just said, it had passed right over the top of her head. She turned to her colleague to see if he had any better idea than she, but he shook his head and shrugged.
"We don't know a lot about guns. This is why we have hired you, even if yours is a specialized field."
"Of course you hired me. I'm the best there is." The figure sneered, tying a bandana over his head.
Trying hard to refrain from making the comment that he was the only person in this line of business, and consequently also the worst, the woman nodded.
"So, I take it we have an agreement?"
"You got it."
"And your fee?"
"No fee. This time, I'll do it for the challenge."
The man nodded. "In that case, consider this a token of our thanks, rather than a payment." He slid a plain briefcase across the floor to the world's most famous hitman, who looked at it blankly.
"I don't need a suitcase."
"No, it's filled with money." The man explained patiently.
"…Oh." The world's most exclusive, elusive hitman nodded, comprehension dawning.
"Well, we'll leave you to your preparations. Let's go, Miss… Jones."
"Yes, Mr… Smith." They rose, and left, closing the apartment door behind them. When she was certain they were out of eavesdropping range, the woman shot her partner a curious look.
"Miss Jones? Is that the best you could come up with?"
"Don't give me that look; it was the best I could come up with. You know how strange these Earth names are."
"Oh, fine. I don't suppose it matters in the long run." She consented. "You are sure we're doing the right thing, aren't you?"
"Of course I am. She is the Daughter of Trigon. She has to be neutralized, and this is the best way."
"Yes, I suppose so. I just wish she and we had some choice in the matter."
"Omelettes and eggs, Miss…Jones, Omelettes and eggs."
After they had left, and the echo of their voices had faded away, the hitman looked down at the table, and the picture that lay upon it. His target, a prominent figure on the international crime-fighting scene, not that he was concerned by that. When you did his work, morals weren't exactly black-and-white. He worked for the challenge, and sometimes the money, if he felt it was too easy. But this one, ah…Superheroes. He grinned, and picked up his leather jacket. Image was important these days; no-one took him seriously in the olden times. Then again, he had his trademark to think of. He slipped on the black jacket. On the back, some forgotten tailor had redesigned the fabric to include the image of two white wings, spreading from the stitch along his spine to the tip of the jacket's shoulders. It made him look a little like a Hell's Angel, which some people will tell you he is. Cupid shouldered his rifle, tucked the picture into his pocket, and left for Jump City.
Raven floated into the main area of Titan's Tower, her eye catching the large screen that dominated the front of the room. Typically, there was a video game on. Instead of the usual racing game, this time it was a beat 'em up match between those well known characters, Large Bare-Chested Man Wearing a Cowboy Hat, and Under-Dressed, Over Balanced Schoolgirl. As she watched, the Schoolgirl leapt back out of the reach of a huge, heavy handed swipe from the Cowboy, and then darted in with a sweeping kick, knocking him to his feet and then performing a decidedly unladylike maneuver on her prone foe. The screen flashed red, and the Schoolgirl posed for victory in a position that only just managed to be slightly more suggestive than everything else about her was. This, however, was background noise to Cyborg, who dropped his controller with a clatter, exasperated.
"Aww, man, I don't get it. How is it you beat me down every time we play this game?"
"Dude, you play the game like you fight. You just try and smash, that's why I always beat you. I'm too fast for you!" The changeling grinned. Unseen by the two friends, Raven also smiled a little in the shadow of her cloak. Beast Boy had a point, not that she would ever admit that to him.
That's not all you won't admit to him, is it? A voice purred inside her mind. Raven frowned, and quelled the voice of one of her most irritating emotions. She had been right, but that didn't mean Raven was going to like it, or do anything about it. Even if she had grown closer to Beast Boy over time, it certainly wasn't the L-word, and even it if was, which it wasn't, she wasn't ever going to act on it. She knew too well what happened if she lost her grip on her feelings.
Besides, how can he possibly be interested in us? Another voice murmured sadly inside her. Raven wasn't sure who that had been. There were too many candidates. Depression, Guilt, Self-Doubt, Fear, Paranoia…The list went on, and she decided that after she'd had her tea, she'd go have a little talk with her emotions. They'd been growing too intrusive by far after the incident Cyborg and Beast Boy had in her soul-mirror, and she suspected that her changing biology wasn't helping. No-one had ever really been around her for long enough to take her aside and explain the birds and the bees, or the ins and outs of growing up and moving from child to teen to adult, but she read a lot, and wasn't stupid. She was well aware that the upcoming years would be interesting, and being half-demon could only complicate matters further. But this was a train of thought for another time. She floated over to the fridge as Cyborg stomped out of the room, muttering something about doing some repairs on the T-Car.
Beast Boy watched his friend go, grinning. It was always nice to win against Cyborg. As he left, he caught Raven in the corner of his vision, and the grin faded. Now he wasn't sure if Cyborg had left because he'd been beaten horribly, or because Raven was here. Since the half man, half machine was pretty much his best friend, he knew what Beast Boy felt about the Sorceress and delighted in giving them 'alone time' as he called it, often whilst grinning. It was quite an effective torture, probably punishment for the time that the changeling had sneaked into the garage and replaced all the CDs in the T-Car with Country and Western. He wanted to tell Raven that he, well, really, really liked her, but he couldn't because she was Raven, and he was probably so beneath her attention it wasn't even funny. But it wasn't in his nature to be alone in a room with someone and not say anything, which meant several minutes of strained conversation at least…He steeled himself for the ordeal ahead, and strolled over to the kitchen area. Might as well get it over with for now.
On the oil rig out to sea, Cupid nodded in satisfaction. He had had the Tower under surveillance from here for the last two weeks, and now his patience had paid off. He released the safety, centered the sights on the girl's chest, and squeezed the trigger. It was a clean shot. She was thrown to the floor, as if she'd been hit by a car as the bullet tore through her.
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DC - ….Did I mention this is going to be a comedy fic? Don't worry, it's not as bad as it sounds. Let me know what you think, and if people want it, I'll finish off chapter two! Till then, peace out.
DC