Cyborg glanced furtively from side to side as he made his purchase, terrified that me might be recognised, even though the holoring he was currently sporting made him look like a Caucasian eighty-year-old woman. You could never be too careful, and he didn't want the others finding out about his…compulsion.
As he put his acquisition in a brown paper bag, and got into the T-Car, he shuddered at the thought of what the others would do if they found out. Starfire would be fascinated, and would demand a detailed explanation as to the purpose and nature of the item. Robin would smirk at him behind that damn mask of his, Raven would simply shake her head in despair, and Beast Boy…Beast Boy would simply laugh his green ass off.
Pulling into the underwater tunnel that lead to the Tower, Cyborg removed the holoring, and stored his purchase in a hidden cavity in his arm. Arriving in the garage, he locked the T-Car, removing the furry dice that Beast Boy had seen fit to install on the rear view mirror. As a second thought, he removed the pine cone air freshener as well.
Moving with a stealth that belied his weight and size, he slipped into his room. Thankfully, the Tower's resident couples were doing a grand job of distracting themselves, so he was able to get to his room unnoticed, although he was privy to some...noises that he really didn't need to hear. Especially coming from Raven's room.
Activating the security lockdown on his room, he made his way over to his wall. Lifting a picture of him on the school football team, he touched a section of the wall that was apparently no different to any other section of the wall.
Any other section of the wall wouldn't have opened a secret door in the wall, which Cyborg opened to reveal a cabinet displaying his most prized possessions. Old school sports trophies. A piece of the first car, rescued from the debris when he had blown it to shrapnel. A piece of the second T-Car, reclaimed from when Terra had totalled it with a hunk of flying granite. A piece of the third T-Car, salvaged from the wreckage Ding Dong Daddy's imps had reduced it to. His favourite football, and his stuffed toy mouse that he'd had since he was old enough to try and eat it.
As Cyborg placed his newest acquisition among these hallowed memories, he mused on the nature of success. For some, success came in the form of a medal, or a certificate. For some, it was the acquisition of vast amounts of wealth. There were those that took confirmation that they had "made it" in a particular field when a curly-haired accordionist with uneven nostrils began to mock their work. And for Cyborg?
Cyborg stared with pride at the cheap plastic item that he had just bought. For Cyborg, there was no clearer indication of success than the sheer, visceral thrill of seeing his likeness adorning a PEZ Dispenser.
Just a stupid little oneshot I thought of. In line with LOTP, not that that's likely to be relevant. The stuffed toy mouse is mine. It used to have a tie, but when I was two I tried to eat it, and choked on it. Fun.