Teen Titans #58: "Beguiled, part 1"

[arcalian]

Teen Titans #58
"Beguiled," part one
Story by Jay McIntyre
Art by Rik Mertens

"When you were here before,
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel,
Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fuckin' special

But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here

I don't care if it hurts,
I wanna have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul

I want you to notice
when I'm not around
You're so fuckin' special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here, ohhhh, ohhhh

She's running out again
She's running out
She run run run run...
run... run...

Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so fuckin' special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here

I don't belong here..."
--Creep, by Radiohead


“I at midnight by the clock may creep into your bed.”
 William Butler Yeats

[arcalian]

-1-

Eric Forrester smiled to himself in the mirror. He was dressed casually. He had considered dressing up for this first formal invitation to Titans Tower, but decided against it. They'd think he was just putting on airs to impress the ladies anyhow. What none of them yet understood was that he was always doing that.

Troia first, yes. Lovely lady. Vulnerable and needy, didn't think of herself as 'that kind of girl'. Perfect. But she would only be the start.

He checked himself. No need to get overconfident. One thing at a time, one girl at a time, one seduction at a time.

No one volunteered to bring him, not even Troia, which worried him a little. But he supposed this counted as “official business”. He was game for it; he had faced much harder challenges in his time than simple transportation. And he didn't want for money.

So he took a cab to the docks in Perth Amboy, and stepped up to the automated ferry to Titans Tower. Few had access, except on special occasions for the press; a cop and a couple dock walking whores eyed him curiously, and yes with some envy. He smirked at them all and gave them a sarcastic salute.

The cops didn't bust the whores, of course. Officially it was because they weren't vice, so it wasn't their jurisdiction. The real reason was much more basic, of course. He smirked to himself. On his own account, he had long since moved past whores, even when desperate he no longer had to pay for the privilege, and when not so desperate, as now, he preferred a challenge.

Yes, there was no need to push things with Troia. Things were going just fine as they were.

He punched the intercom. “Greetings and salutations, superfriends. The charm and color in your life reporting as ordered.”

“Ease up on the humor there,” Beast Boy's voice came through the intercom, trying to sound wry; but Eric could hear the annoyance beneath. “That's my department.”

Eric smirked. “Duly noted, good sir.”

The barrier slid back. “You may step up,” Beast Boy said through the intercom.

Eric stepped across. He had been here before, a couple of times now; but this was an official visit. He'd only used the Ferry once before, when the Titans brought him.

Across the dark night time waters he went, the Tower slowly growing in his vision, it's interior lighting oddly subdued. The cold Atlantic winds whipped across him, and he felt them through his thin jacket, but he paid them no mind.

He kept his thoughts neutral and inoffensive. Not the lust; surely that was obvious. But anything more complicated, he didn't think of. He knew that Raven couldn't read thoughts, but she could read emotions. And he didn't want her to get.....the wrong idea about him.

As the automated ferry pulled up to the island, the lights behind the main doors lit up. Still no one to greet him, though he was getting the feeling they were trying to psych him out. And he was not above admitting he was a little nervous, had anyone asked. But as far as head games were concerned? They were wasting their time. He knew that territory well enough. He was no coward, but bravery was a tool to be used, like any other. Better to be alive and considered a coward, then be a dead fool whom the living thought brave.

He stepped up to the door. He considered just pulling it open, but knocked instead. He was wondering whether he had not made a bold enough choice when the door opened. Troia smiled, and took him by the hand. He grinned back and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

She pulled her hand away. “Naughty naughty,” she chided him in a soft voice.

“Always.”

[arcalian]

-2-

Eric sat on a sofa in the lounge. The Titans surrounded him. Basic intimidation tactics. He would say he wasn't impressed; and by that simple move, he wasn't. But on another level he was; almost all of them had powers that could take him down with one shot, and the one that didn't, Nightwing, had eyes like the grim reaper when he felt like it, and apparently he felt like it now. He'd heard that the vigilante had been trained by Batman, or at least picked up some tips from the Gotham psycho; and Eric well believed it. How else would a non-powered type take command of a group like this? On that level, at least, Eric had to hand it to Nightwing for his own manipulative abilities.

Then there was Raven, who knew what you were feeling, and was spooky in her own right. She would be a tough nut to crack, and no mistake. Again, he checked himself. One step at a time. And right now, they were eyeballing him.

Then there was Dagon, or as Eric had once known him, David Nathaniel. They hadn't been friends, back in college, but they had known each other. He had offered David the chance of a lifetime, though neither of them had known it at the time. But it seemed that of the two, only Eric had taken full advantage of the gifts he had been given.

They had shut Chaos down, and that didn't really bother Eric; he got what he needed from the crazy a long time ago, and had moved on since. If others, like David, or Dagon as he was now calling himself, couldn't use what they had? Then it was their loss.

But he'd best guard such thoughts carefully. They were all staring at him, most importantly Nightwing and Raven. Troia smiled reassuringly, but he didn't dare look directly at her just now.

“Just to reiterate,” Nightwing said. “You are not joining the team.”

“Understood and agreed with,” Eric said with absolute honesty.

“Good. We are going to continue to keep an eye on you, and with any....fraternization with our members.”

“Of course,” Eric agreed. Inwardly he cursed; he should've just kept his mouth shut for that part.

Evidently Nightwing thought so too, he frowned. “One of the reasons we are doing this is to make sure you keep doing the right thing, and don't slide into....more mercenary ventures.”

Eric kept his silence for a moment, then nodded when he realized an answer was expected. Sweat began to trickle down his back; this was not going quite as smoothly as he'd hoped.

“Now then. We have two tasks for you. You will be supervised for each. The first involves a potentially dangerous situation with a Rogue AI in Buffalo.”

Eric most pointedly did not ask why anyone would bother installing any kind of complex AI in Buffalo, as opposed to, say, MIT.

[arcalian]

-3-

Troia carried him, in a calm businesslike fashion; he clung to her lowered arms as she flew. Her grip was firm, he was in no danger of falling. The fact that there was nothing romantic about it bothered him not at all; he could still touch her arms, and he knew she could feel their powers interacting through the connection. He knew she enjoyed that feeling; what it did for him, he couldn't begin to describe. Not to her, not to anyone.

Raven was also along for this particular mission, and he knew she was reading his emotions, probably Troia's as well. Not a problem. He had been playing this game for a long time before he had met the Titans. Even before he and that dreary David Nathaniel had been experimented on by Chaos, he had always known to shield his heart from the rest of the world. Whether they knew it or not, the Titans were just like him, deep down; it was simply that they wouldn't admit it to themselves. And weren't as good at it. And didn't have his...particular gifts.

They landed just off the Kensington Expressway, in what was nominally a residential area. Eric frowned; that alone was not right.

With Troia and Raven just behind him, he half ran, half jogged to an open house. Troia gently—for her strength—forced the door open and they entered within....

...and that was when Eric understood; it was not some professional installation gone wrong, but rather some kid's internet connection that had been compromised or hijacked.

Three teenage boys were rolling around on the floor, beams of lightning connecting them to a television screen. Burnt gaming controls lay forgotten, the console smoking to one side. One of those online MMOs had, by design or chance, spawned a real threat that was using this house as a base. It was trying to spread throughout the entire game network, and from there to the larger internet. It was relentless, but stupid; had it any wit, it would've hit the net proper long before now.

Eric nodded his understanding to the women, and stepped forward, stretching out his hands, letting his machine empathy reach out, glowing in his hands and eyes.

Two of the lightning tendrils reached out and attached to his hands. He didn't do anything so absurd as confront the AI personality directly, such as that personality was. He did nothing so direct if he could help it. Besides, the thing was stupid; he could easily work his way around it.

He did not see any kind of VR world while doing this. It was more instinctive, more feeling and texture. His powers always worked like that; like a blind man reading braille. He saw no visions, felt no pain or fear, only textures and nuances. He enjoyed this part, truth be known; it helped him to separate himself from his needs and wants, from the cares of the world. But that was the danger, if he used these powers too long, he gave up too much of who he was. That was something that none of the Titans, not even Raven with her demonic heritage, understood or had to deal with.

Both Raven and Troia drew back from him as his eyes and hand glowed, and he was dimly aware of that, but gave it no thought.

He 'snuck past' the monstrosity of the AI. It knew he was there, but not specifically where. It was hard to describe; he he any time to explain (which he didn't) only Cyborg would have properly appreciated it. In any case, he snuck past it and severed it's connection to the network. Not it was weaker, but knew exactly where he was. He did not try to scramble out of the way, instead he hid in the datastreams of it's own broken connection. It's attack still struck, but went through him as though he weren't even there, a ghost. He could have stayed in there to finish the thing off, but there was no need.

He disconnected himself from the energy tendrils, which were already weakening and fading. “The hostile AI is dying, but it will take a little while to burn itself out. The gamer console is corrupted, though. I'm afraid the kids will have to get a new one.”

“The kids,” Raven said coldly, “Are still comatose.” She gestured to the three prone forms. “You were supposed to save them!”

Eric flinched back from Raven's anger, hands up. “Whoa, whoa! They weren't in the net, I would've felt them!” And this was true. “They must still be in their own minds, however injured. Can you sense them?”

Raven looked down at them. “Yes,” she said. “I can.” And she could also sense the truth of his words, Eric felt sure.

“So, call the paramedics, eh?!” he tried not to sound confrontational, but the stress was getting to him a little. And that was all right; maybe it would make him seem more normal.

“Yes,” Troia said. “Of course, you're right.”

[arcalian]

-4-

Compared to that, the second task was almost anticlimactic. After returning from Buffalo, he was wondering what the next location would be. Instead they led him into the second sublevel, where Cyborg was plugged into the Tower mainframe. That meant less in these days when virtually everyone had a PC—Eric knew all about that, as computers were his business and one of his passions, of course—but nevertheless they still played a role.

Apparently Cyborg had already successfully deflected an attempted hack on the Tower. They suspected the hacker of going after several targets; STAR Labs, the FBI, WayneTech. Stopping the attacks wasn't too hard; but this particular hacker was very elusive. So far, nobody had been able to track him or her down.

“And that's where I come in,” he said to Cyborg.

The dark-skinned man nodded grimly. “Easy what you do to our mainframe, freak.”

Eric grinned unpleasantly. He guessed that Cyborg, instead of feeling any bond of kinship with him, was worried that Eric might be able to mess with his own cybernetic systems. He probably could, too; but that was neither his plan nor inclination. “Relax, robocop,” he assured him. “Your mainframe is just the door that leads the way.”

He placed his hands on the keyboard but had no need to type. He closed his eyes this time, as Cyborg might have some understanding of his glowing eyes if he saw them. Once again, he felt his way. Doing this on the Internet was more his natural mode, and very comfortable. It was almost like coming home.

“Ahh, I see,” he said at length.

“What is it?” Cyborg asked.

“It's not one hacker, it's three. No...four,” he corrected himself. “They're a tight little team. They trade off and help to cover each other's tracks. Reading their blogs and emails now....nothing idealistic, just in it for the thrills, and maybe some money.”

“Like the equivalent of kids joyriding,” Cyborg mused.

“With the beginnings of ambition for more,” Eric agreed. “Not full blown greed, but the desire to cover their living expenses, and make enough that they don't have to do anything else for a living.”

“Are they kids living with their parents?”

“Two are, two aren't. The kids have an eye on the future, so to speak. Ahhhh....two of them are lovers, as well. Fun stuff. Too bad they couldn't keep their hands clean,” Eric said with real regret and admiration.

“We'll need their locations,” Cyborg said. “Don't admire them too much.”

“Not to worry. I can pinpoint three of the four locations on web maps, and from there it won't be hard to figure out where the fourth one is.”

“And without the other three that one won't be anywhere near as much a threat anyway, right?”

“Exactly.”

[arcalian]

-5-

Later. Evening was growing on.

Eric was flirting with Troia in the lounge again. The Tower had various entertainment facilities of course, but Eric preferred a nice restaurant or his own apartment. Besides, it wouldn't do to have the other Titans looming over his shoulder during all this.

As it was, Raven, Nightwing and Kid Flash were looking on with various degrees of disdain. Raven shook her head.

Eric did his best to ignore them. “So, do I pass the test?” he asked her.

Troia smiled thinly. “You pass this test, yes. But there will be more in future.”

“Of course; I'd much rather deal with you guys than Checkmate or STAR Labs,” he said, entirely honestly.

“Right answer. Remember, we will be keeping an eye on you.”

“By all means do,” He said, touching her shoulder.

She smiled and closed her eyes, feeling the interaction of their powers. He knew she enjoyed it despite herself. She kissed his cheek.



“You have gifts,” Raven warned from across the room. “Make sure you use them correctly.”

“That's why I'm here,” Eric said, not taking his eyes off Troia. “But now I think it's time to leave, if Troia feels like accompanying me?”

“Of course,” Troia agreed. “I'll take you back to your apartment.”

They walked to the door together.

Behind them, Eric could hear the cute blonde, Terra, muttering to her own Beast Boy-toy that she hoped that Eric appreciated what he had with Troia. Indeed, Eric did; but not quite in the way she meant. Now was hardly the time to say so, of course.

[arcalian]

-6-

Eric had thought to leave a window open; thankfully it had not rained. Troia's arrival with him by now went unremarked; the Titans had visited his neighborhood enough times now for it to no longer cause a stir. Mind you, there were always superhero fans with their phones and cameras; perhaps tonight Eric would give them something worth seeing. He hoped so. Troia was ripe; tonight could be the night.

“Shall we go out to dinner, or shall I cook?” he asked.

“Cook, but don't strain yourself.” she said. “Something simple.”

“Spaghetti?”

“Sure,” she smiled.

He got to work, making the sauce (he used a fair amount of onion, which she seemed to like, certainly he did).

After a pause, she said, “We've been seeing each other for couple months now, but you never asked my real name.”

“I thought you wanted to protect your secret identity,” he said. And he meant it, too; he had no intention of exposing her identity to the world, or even selling it to someone who would. Money wasn't what motivated him.

“Not my whole name, not all the details of my civilian life, no. But I'd like to tell you my first name.”

A gesture of trust; Eric would be stupid not to take advantage of it. “I'm listening, dear. Tell me.”

“Donna.”

“Donna,” he repeated, considering it, tasting it. “Lovely, and it suits you.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

[arcalian]

-7-

They ate, slowly and quietly. Eric did not usually initiate conversation during eating; he did not think tonight would be a good time to break that pattern, with Troia—no, Donna—so close to giving in. She complimented him on his cooking, and he thanked her; this was hardly the first time he had cooked dinner for her. He had learned to cook for himself long ago, and it had never hurt his chances with the ladies.

After dinner, she showed no inclination to leave; and he led her to the couch, gently rubbing the backs of both her hands with his thumbs, continuing the interaction between them.

She was obviously nervous, but responded favorably, settling herself against him. In a way, he was nervous too; he knew how powerful she was. If he did something too aggressive or spooked her, she could swat him like a fly.

But she was responding well to his lead. “I never told you...” she faltered. He said nothing; being able to listen was important. “I never told you why I was attracted to you in the first place.”

“Yes?” he prompted.

“Before we met you there was a hero.....he looked like you in the face. He wasn't built like you, but.....”

At this Eric barked laughter. He was no body builder. He hoped his involuntary response didn't put her off.

But she smiled and kept talking. “Oh, you keep fit enough. He was an artist. But....he had a face very like yours. And like you he appreciated me. Appreciated so many things.”

This time Eric was able to contain his laughter. He put on an appropriately somber and interested face. “What happened to him?” he asked, though he could already guess.

“He died. Nobly, to save the Galaxy. He was off Earth; I wasn't there. If I had been....” she couldn't finish. She lowered her head, not quite crying, but sighing heavily.

He held her close, in a comforting gesture, and did not push the interaction of their powers. “Not your fault.”

“No, I know but....I regret not spending more time with him. Giving him the opportunity, to....to...”

“Ahhh,” said Eric, understanding dawning in his mind. He grinned; he hoped the grin wasn't too openly predatory.

She saw it and blushed. “I'm not.....I'm not the sort to give of myself easily,” she said. “Starfire is a little like that, not as much as you'd think by looking at her. Terra much more so. Raven is all about trust, and Scarlet Wing is still so new and unsure of herself.”

He nodded, having figured all of that out already, but let her talk. He didn't even have to push that hard, now; she was talking herself into it.

“But I....I know you're a bad boy.”

“I've never denied it.”

“And you'll take advantage of me if I let you.”

“Only if you want me to.”

She looked at him, and said nothing, eyes wide and biting her lip. All that power, and yet still so vulnerable.

He could have said a number of things at that point; they might have worked, or they might have soured the mood.

So instead he moved in, stroking her shoulder and her hair, letting her feel the disreputable, dangerous tingle of his powers affecting her. She shivered but did not pull away.

He kissed her, and she responded, wrapping her arms around him. In that moment he knew; he'd got her, hook line and sinker.

He moved atop her and settled his weight on her. She didn't resist or push him away, instead she moved to accommodate him, spreading her legs. The glittering stars of her costume darkened under him. He opened the connection between them wider through the kiss, so she could feel it all through herself. She shuddered.....then held him tighter.

Finally, he broke the kiss and gave her a dangerous smile. “I guess you do want me to take advantage of you, hmm?”
'
She stared at him a long moment, eyes searching, and he felt the tiniest quiver of worry.

Then she closed her eyes and breathed out the word, “Yes.”

He burned with triumph, inside. He kissed her again, savoring it, letting it flow.

Then he gently picked her up. She let him, despite her superior strength.

He carried her off to the bedroom, not bothering to turn on the light.

She let him carry her into the darkness.

Continued...

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