He moved quickly through the night, feet flying on the concrete, towards his destination. A smile flew from behind his mask as the cold voice grated in his ears his orders. Exterminate the girl, some sort of revenge on the father. Simple.

Walking into the building, massive and adorned with decoration, labours of hundreds of men just for a few to toss aside and take for granted. Nothing, of course, like what his family would do if they owned this place.

'Ignorant rich pigs,' the mumble escaped his mask without his knowing until he heard it echo across the room. His eyes darted quickly left and right, scanning the room for someone there when they shouldn't be, a slight film of fear and sweat covering his brow.

He walked up the stairs, quickly and swiftly, yet not making a sound so as to not be heard by the guards. It was only the last step that creaked, and when it did, his heart stopped. Failure of this job would be death, and death by the Sladed Man would be a death to go down in the history books. He made a mental note as he looked around to never allow himself to be hired by a mercenary such as the Sladed Man again, no matter how devoid he was of money.

A soft muffle of footsteps on carpet caught his attention, and he turned to see a clichéd child in her pyjamas standing there, rubbing the sleep from her tired blue eyes, as innocent as a sunny day's sky. She looked up at him with those eyes, so large, framed by dark lashes and a tanned young face with loving blonde curls falling around her face; she appeared to be only five, the poor thing.

'Excuse me, sir, but are you one of my Daddy's friends? Is that why Daddy isn't here?' Damn, the father wasn't there. Oh well, he looked to the innocent girl that had spoken, trust in her eyes calling out to his kindness, yet shunned by his need to survive himself. Just kill the girl, then get out of here fast as possible. Simple.

'Yes, my little Chikawat (1), I am. Now if you just come with me I will take your back to your room of rest, and then we shall find your beloved Daddy.' Tell a lie, kill a child, get paid. Simple. Yes, but only if I like lying to myself.

A sigh escaped his throat, and he groaned mentally. He walked over to the girl, his feet naturally silent on the carpet, and as he came within a few feet of her lifted his blade and allowed it to begin its ascent to her small throat, the little jugular that was pumping with blood. She looked up at him and didn't notice the glint of a blade in the moonlight, didn't notice the singing sound it made as it left it's sheath, just stared right into his eyes, and pushed a button in her hand. Right as he began to drag it across her throat, the wall burst open.

His head whipped to the side as the little girl ran away screaming for her parents, and glared at the people that had gone through so much trouble to stop him from the completion of his job. What pests.

And oh, they were pests. Badly arranged ones, too. Or, now that he looked at it again, they seemed to be quite the skilled team. The leader was clad in yellow, green and red, with a black and yellow cape falling across his shoulders. A mask was spread across his face, and his mouth was stretched in a slightly cocky grin. This made the man's stomach churn. More rich pigs come to make his life miserable.

Next to the leader was a half-man, half-robot of some sort, with an eye glowing red, and circuits blue, He had his arm aimed at the man, and, unless he could do Ariko's throwing star technique, the man didn't think of pointing an arm at someone a threat. Just rude.

There was a green boy, with hair messy and also green, clad in grey gloves and a black suit with a purple stripe and belt. His arms were folded over his chest, glaring at the man not with hate, just dislike. He doubted anyone with that innocent a look in their eyes could hate, and, unless the boy tried to attack him with his colour of green and his smell of tofu, then the man doubted that he could be a threat.

Aside the boy that resembled bad bread, was a girl with orange skin and wide green eyes that had fury in them. She watched the small girl go and turned those irises that were ablaze with the sun's fire toward him, gazing deeper and deeper into him.

The first to strike was the one that he hadn't noticed, a girl with a long blue cloak on that covered her body, only allowing him to see the eyes. She spoke words with undertones of magic, the type that he had only heard of in tales of fairies. Her purple eyes were the only thing that he saw and darkness took hold of him, and he reached into the beg that the Sladed Man had given him, and drew out the capsules and threw them at the girl, and they shone, and shone, and shone. The light that consumed her seemed so full of justice, the irony was hard to laugh at that it was aiding a criminal.

The green one struck next, changing into a tiger, clawing at him with fury of a lover harmed. He chuckled behind his mask as the beast recoiled in agony. There were charges fitted into his suit for just this reason. The Sladed Man had aided him again, and also, had shown him a weakness; the girl of blue, birds and darkness, the one whom he pined for. It was almost funny how obvious it was.

The orange skinned one flew in next, crying out a call of 'Friends!' and flying, well, that was a discovery… to their protection and hurling orbs of green fury at him. He eyed them careful, and dodged them all. No good being hit on his first day, and his gut told him that those things would hurt, so he avoided them.

The man with his arm pointed at him in the rude way, the Cyborg, he supposed this country called him, blazed a gun of blue beams encircled with what the man could only think of as a snake coming from the cannon to make him atone for his sins. Well, never would he. Not until the task was done, and that could not be before the end of this job. Such was spoken, such was written.

He was running for the exit when the light of traffic attack him, using a bo staff to aim for his head, yet striking low on his chest. The man let loose an 'Oomph' as the air was knocked from him, and was sent hurtling through a window out into the waiting harbour below. He looked around him to see the glass mirror his face, still masked in the black of the night, yet with a small cut across his forehead that dripped crimson regret. A mistake, but a mistake to never be repeated, or so he supposed.

He fell into the harbour below and crashed through the water, bubbles swirling around his form as he felt a mechanical arm lift him from the water, and he was once again in contact with one of the Sladed Man's robots, cold, apathetic eyes stared at him, and he groaned and awaited the ride back to the Sladed Man's hideout, with the Team of Pests watching him from within the manor.

A/N: Yay! One chapter down! I was inspired! There are like so many other cool authors on this site, and I decided that if they can do it then I can give it a shot! So I shall write a Robin Vs Slade story! And so it begins! Yay! Oh, yeah... (1) This means orphan. My science teacher calls us it all the time…: D

Censorship Man: And as she went on and on and on and on…

C.C.C.: 'Takes out morphine' 'Sticks CM' Heeheee heee… Don't you just love sadists? We make the plot line interesting… 'evil grin'

CM: Ung… Caiiitliiin…

C.C.C.: 'Sticks tongue out at him' Then next time, don't be a meanie, and maybe I wont drug you up to shut you up. Hey! That sounds kinda cool… Bye bye! Thank you for reading!

Please read and review:D And I will give you a choccie chip cookie:)