(Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans. Nor a number of other media franchises that are alluded to, in particular those of Battlestar Galactica, Knight Rider and the A-Team; nor any portrayals thereof. Nor any person involved in the portrayals thereof...thereof. Especially not David Hasselhoff, who is quite an accomplished actor despite the impressions Cyborg and Raven may seem to have.)
"Perhaps I can be of assistance?"
Cyborg got out from under the T-Car in the Tower's garage. Not because he hadn't identified Starfire as the speaker already, but because it didn't seem right not to talk to her face-to-face. "This is kind of a one-person job," was his reply. The system he was working on was only accessible from the underside, there simply wouldn't be enough room for two people to work on it.
Starfire was undaunted. "But surely I can...ooh, what does this fascinating device do?"
That fascinating device happened to be a plasma welding torch. "Whoa—" Cyborg didn't have time to properly express his shock before Starfire's curiosity located the trigger.
The sudden gout of flame was punctuated by a certain Tamaranean's squeal of surprise. She quickly released the trigger, as well as the torch itself; but the damage was already done, in the form of a large scorch mark on the T-Car's door.
Cyborg would've stared at the spot, mouth agape, for longer if Beast Boy hadn't done the exact same thing that morning. As it was, his compounded aggravation at having to repair the door, again, quickly caught up with him.
"...it had the gas?" was the first, sheepish, remark from the honorary pyromaniac of the hour.
He turned his head to look at her, and was not impressed by her forced smile. Attempting not to overreact...or react, for that matter...he turned back to the spot, and let out a long sigh.
Now Starfire's voice was filled with remorse. "Oh...I am most sorry for the fiery damage. I shall assist—"
He snapped his head in her direction, imperceptibly shaking with rage as his self-restraint started to break. "Star. I think it'd be best if you left, I'll take care of it myself."
And with that, he turned away from her and started digging through his tools to start re-repairing the door. True, she'd got off scot-free compared to what he'd said to Beast Boy, and he'd start yelling if she stayed there another minute. But he still knew he didn't want to see the look on her face when she went away.
"Dude, he just said you should leave?!?! Aww man, he threw me out the door! Like it was my fault the T-Car isn't flameproof!"
Starfire slumped onto the couch in the command center, across from Beast Boy. She wasn't completely certain Beast Boy was trying to cheer her up; but if he was, it wasn't working. She couldn't shake the feeling that, unintentionally or not, she had forced Cyborg to undertake a loathsome task; and more distressingly, that her friend didn't want to speak with her.
Beast Boy was undaunted. Possibly because he wasn't in a position to be daunted. Regardless, he continued. "Don't worry Star, Cyborg'll fix the door and he'll forget about the whole thing. Until you do it again. But maybe that's reserved for me, too. Anyway, why don't you watch TV with me? Get more worthwhile things on your mind than the T-Car."
Starfire considered it. There wasn't anyone more experienced in annoying Cyborg than Beast Boy, and she decided he was probably an expert in dealing with Cyborg's moods as a result. She ultimately decided to trust his judgement, for the time being at least. "I shall endeavor to distance my thoughts from their troubles. Please, what television program are we to watch? Perhaps a documentary on potato farming, or—"
"Dude! I said 'worthwhile', not 'educational'! Bleh. Now let me see...." With that, he began the most rudimentary activity associated with Beast Boy: Pressing the channel increment button on the remote. He absentmindedly rattled off brief channel descriptions as he went: "...soap opera...commercial...Warp Trek...French chef guy...commercial...news...DUDE!"
The abrupt change in tone and volume startled Starfire, to the point that she jumped out of her sitting position and subsequently fell to the floor. As she picked herself up, she briefly pondered if someone had neglected to mention that today was some sort of "Startle Starfire" holiday. Perhaps "Startlefire Day".
Beast Boy's eyes were fixated on the screen, at such intensity that Starfire doubted he even noticed her fall. He pronounced, in that strangely reverent tone of his, the subject of his fascination: "Knight Rider."
Starfire turned her gaze towards the screen, and was quickly confused. "Please, do not the knights ride the horses, and not the cars?"
"Knight's his last name. Well, actually it was Long and then he got shot in the head but he lived and now he's got a new name and everything, but it's still Knight now."
"And do the cars of the Knight always crash into the wall, and not simply open a door?"
"Dude, it's an indestructible talking super-robot-car! Of COURSE it always crashes through the wall!"
Starfire didn't reply, nor did she ask anything more. Something about that last answer stuck in her mind. Thinking it over, she narrowed it down to the words "indestructible" and "car". But, what about an indestructible car would....
She gasped, her face beaming with revelation. "That is the solution! If I were to—"
The red lights, klaxon, and Robin declaring "Titans, trouble!" cut short her exterior monologue. It was a sad necessity that making things right with Cyborg would have to wait; the city needed her attention first.