So, yeah. Been a while since I wrote a TT fanfic. Or anything at all really. I certainly hope there are still some faithful fans and readers out there. I had a lot of fun writing this. Reviews are adored!


It was generally believed by most men that it was a bad idea to pursue a bad girl. But then again, he did fight crime, and he won most of the time, even believing that no dark monster had done any permanent damage—yet. He had a team for a while: a green changeling, a cyborg, and a dark yet powerful girl had joined his ranks to help fight the crime of the city. And for a while, they had been good. But nothing could keep them together when the crime moved to so many different places, not just in the city alleyways, and their brittle bonds of friendship had broken when they all decided it was, afterall, better to go their separate ways.

Robin had thought, for a fleeting moment, that she was a new type of battle that could have used a team. But then she rose, out of the rubble she had just made of a city, her chains broken from her hands and the green lights still searching the skys for her, and Robin thought that it was best if he took care of her by himself.

The metal plates that covered her breasts and thighs had fallen away, and she had stood before him naked except for the bloodred hair that covered her heaving breasts. Every muscle in her body clenched beneath her golden skin when she saw him, the only human left standing before her, and he expected to be blown away like the buildings themselves. But instead she smiled and laughed a deep, throbbing howl before closing the space between them and kissing him full on the lips.

As her lips moved smoothly between his at first, all he could think of was of her naked body, full flush against his stupid uniform. Why he chose to actually wear it that day… But then it was as if every memory was being pulled from his brain to his vision, from his youngest at the orphanage to his adventures with the Titans, all holding a certain word associated with each picture—and there were millions of pictures. Thinking that her lips had held his for years, when they parted the sky was still green and the smoke only just beginning to settle.

"Thank you, Robin," she said. Her face was covered in ash but her eyes glistened like the green lights searching for her, the planets at war trying to find this girl. "Do not try to stop me again, or next time I'll kill you too."

He didn't have time to respond before she shot into the air, faster than a lightning bolt and gone just as quickly, leaving him reeling and clutching to the feeling of a lifetime passed she had left on his lips.

The next day, as he awoke with barely two hours sleep, he clutched his coffee and the newspaper and read over the headline. He had been up with the police the entire night, encouraging them to phone in the military the next morning, considering that whole planets had come searching for this girl. And thankfully, the headline read: MILITARY CALLED IN AS ALIEN PLANETS COME TO JUMP CITY TO RECAPTURE ESCAPED PRISONER

Beneath it was a grainy picture some pedestrian with a camera phone had taken of the alien ships firing at a streak of green in the sky, which the caption identified as the alien girl. It warned of her extreme danger, and not to approach her, and not to talk to her, etc, etc.

But Robin couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't entirely dangerous. The article said nothing about her going around kissing people, or why she was a prisoner in the first place. As far as all of Earth knew, she could have been a slave. It wouldn't be the first time it had happened…. But then again, the slaves that escaped to earth didn't wreck the first city they came upon to pieces.

Still, there was something he couldn't put his finger on about this girl. She was dangerous, sure, but the crime-fighting appeal didn't stand the same here. From what little Robin had seen of her, she was the most incredibly sexy and breathtaking woman he had ever set eyes on before. A woman like that couldn't just go walking around Jump City unnoticed.

There were no favors he could call in, no people he could contact. He was solo and, for the first time in a long time, he was glad of it.

Robin spent the next few days either investigating with the police or investigating in his apartment. He had tapped every camera in the city to see if anyone had sightings of her, but she was elusive as ever, and no havoc had been wreaked on the city since her arrival. The alien ships were reported to be making loops around the earth, doing investigation of their own, but Robin had a feeling that she wouldn't stray far from the city she destroyed.

At 5 pm, just as Robin was drinking down his last dreg of stale coffee, the police commissioner called saying he had a lead on the girl. Robin rushed down to the police station, which was only a few blocks from his apartment, and navigated the hustle and bustle of the busy men and women all on the same case.

"Thanks for coming, Robin," said Ford, running a hand over his stubble. "A man came in earlier and confessed he'd seen her the night before, at a nightclub downtown. Said she'd hypnotized him or something, because before he knew it they were kissing."

Robin laughed along with the commissioner and leaned against a desk. "He just fell in love, I reckon." He shuddered to think if he'd have thought the same thing. "She's not ugly, that girl."

"Yes, you mentioned that," Ford laughed. "The aliens just gave intell to D.C as well. If she isn't found within the week and handed over, they'll start blowing up cities. Our country is not in the state for universal warfare, Robin. We've got to find her."

Robin rubbed his eyes. He had long ago removed the mask he once wore constantly, believing that his identity was something that was not worth protecting when he had no personal relationships. "I know, Ford. But I don't understand why they won't tell us why she matters so much. Obviously she's dangerous, but she isn't destroying anything else. It looks like she's hiding." Robin remembered the chains he watched break from her body the night he saw her.

"That's what I want you to find out. If she isn't a threat to us, then it's in accordance with Universal Law that she be protected if she's fleeing. We need a way to talk to her without threatening her."

Robin could see where this was going, and his stomach gave a little jolt—"Robin, we need you to go to the nightclub and talk her"—at the prospect of seeing her again.

"Understood, Commissioner," he said. Laughing, he added, "I just hope she doesn't follow through with her threat to kill me."

Ford smiled and turned his grey head away from him, adding over his shoulder as he left the office, "I think kissing is what you should be worrying more about, boy."

Robin walked back to his apartment and picked up a few beers along the way. If, he thought, he had to deal with the slutty girls and pervert men that were associated with every nightclub he'd ever been to, then he certainly wasn't about to do it stone-cold sober. He thought of how he should prepare for the night, as he always did whenever he knew in advance that he was going to be fighting someone. But he didn't need target practice, or sparring practice. He was going to bring a gun, but what was even the use? He knew she could outfight him in any way, and it would just make her distrust him if she saw the gun at all.

No, his only dilemma was what he was going to wear. He chuckled to himself and pushed aside all of the immaculate uniforms in his closet, trying to remember the last time he'd word normal clothes. Pulling on jeans and a blazer, his beer in his hand, he looked in the mirror and saw a man that had all the qualities of a normal life. A life he could never come close to possessing. He sighed, turning away.

He faced the nightclub after three beers and a shot of tequila for luck. Making sure his hair was spiked and aftershave sharp, he tried to walk into the club like he knew what he was doing. He slipped past the security guard with a flick of his badge, the too-young-looking-to-be-21 girls giggling at him as he passed. The place was just starting to heat up, the bodies writhing together with barely elbowroom, the music thumping through the walls.

He sat at the bar and ordered another beer. The man next to him was sitting alone with his head in his hands, looking like the most dejected guy in the room.

"Girl got your tongue?" Robin asked him. "Hey, make that two!" he called to the bartender. She winked at him.

"Oh, man," he groaned, looking up at him. "You've got no idea."

"I've dealt with my fair share of rejections, too. I get the gist." He took a swig of his beer and encouraged the guy to do the same.

"Well, I'm sure you haven't been rejected by many," the man said, eyeing Robin's blazer and dress shirt. "But I'd doubt even your luck with this chick."

Robin laughed. "That great, is she?"

"She's…she's unreal. She's otherworldly." The man sighed, gulping his beer. He added, in a whisper, "She's here. Tonight."

Robin guessed it wasn't the first time this guy had met her, and his mention of otherworldly beauty caught his attention. Chancing a guess, he asked, "Hey, she didn't happen to have red hair, did she?"

The man's eyes opened wide in shock and he nodded vigorously, but before he had a chance to respond, Robin cut in, "Where is she?"

The man pointed a shaking finger to the back room. Robin was up and pushing through the dancing bodies in an instant, flashing his badge yet again at the guard at the door to the private room. The guard chuckled and opened the door to a dimly lit room.

And there she was. She was no longer in chains, but he hadn't expected her to keep those. Her long legs were draped over a man's lap, her tight black dress exposing her flawless skin. As he entered, she glanced over and whipped her long crimson hair over her bare shoulders. She laughed, the same deep and throaty laugh he had heard the day she destroyed the city.

She rose so her emerald eyes were level with his, and he found himself holding his breath, forcing himself to hold his gaze steady and not take in every inch of her bronze, perfect body.

"Robin," she said, her cherry lips arching into a perfect bow, "so nice to see you. Please, come sit."

He nodded and, before he was really conscious of his actions, he sat down on the leather chair. She whispered in the other man's ear and he blushed and quickly hurried out of the room, with one longing glance behind him.

"So," she said, sipping her martini, "are you going to offer to buy me a drink first? Or are we going to…what is the saying? Get right down to business?"

His breath caught in his throat—he felt like a fish gulping his last breath. Every inch of him ached to buy her a thousand drinks, to watch her laugh and dance, to kiss her lips and pull her body against his. But he was here for a reason, and he had to keep himself in check.

"Why did you kiss me after you destroyed the city?" he blurted out. He supposed the better question would have asked why she destroyed the city in the first place…but they were just warming up, right?

She laughed. "On my planet, it is how we learn language." She reached her delicate hand towards his cheek, running her thumb across a scar on his jaw. "Memories, also."

"So…so…," he started, trying to take in the information, "you fled from your planet?"

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and for the first time he saw something beneath her sexy appearance. "What is 'fled'?"

"It means…you escaped. You left?"

She dropped her gaze to her hands, where there were scars trailing across her otherwise perfect skin. "No. No, I did not…flee."

"Then why are you here? Why are your people searching for you?"

He immediately regretted his word choice. She stood up and bellowed, "They are not my people! I was stolen! I was made a slave!" Her eyes glowed greener with rage, her entire body trembling, electric.

"I'm sorry, I didn't…," he trailed off. "I'm sorry. What's your name? You already know mine."

Her back was to his, red hair gleaming. "My name is Koriand'r." She turned towards him again. "But in your language, it means 'star fire'."

Robin smiled. He could not think of a more perfect meaning for the girl that burned brighter than any star. "So, can I just call you Kori?"

She nodded, but her eyes narrowed. "Why are you here?"

"I'm trying to help you. Our planet is sworn to protect anyone escaping from enslavement, so we can save you."

She laughed, but it was harsher than he had heard before. "Your planet cannot protect me. No one can. They destroyed my home to get me, and soon they will destroy yours."

He was about to ask why her planet had been destroyed, or why she laid ruin to the city, or anything at all about the girl and the mysteries she carried behind her fierce green eyes, but before he could speak she pulled him up towards her.

"Let us dance," she said.

The pit of writhing bodies parted like a river around her utterly concrete self. Men were enraptured by her mere appearance, and women glowered at her, jealous of the girl they could not hope to compete with. The alcohol was fogging Robin's mind and senses, but she stood out in the darkness, clear as fire.

The music flowed against his body, the bass thumping in his bones, as she turned to him, her hips swaying beneath the tight black fabric, her hand gesturing him forward. There was not an inch of her that he could resist.

He watched, along with so many lusting eyes in the room, as she thrust herself into the rhythm. It was dancing as he had never seen before. It was electric, seductive… It was desire itself personified, come alive, offering itself before him. She turned in graceful circles, her hips leading each step, her arms extended above her long body, her hair cascading down each beat drop, each svelte movement, her eyes heavy lidded and lost in lust until they met his own, piercing through the desire that was slowly driving him to insanity.

But what was it about this girl? he thought with difficulty as she pulled him towards her, pressing her scent into his mind. She is broken, somehow, somewhere beneath all this….

But God was she whole. She slipped around him like a snake, twirling just out of reach and tantalizing him with each hell-heated gaze. Every cell in his body was pulled tight with longing—to touch her, to feel her, to kiss her, to know her. To know her like she now knew him, from seeing memories he hadn't shared with another soul. He felt exposed, his life lying naked before her, something that he had guarded more fiercely than anything he ever had.

Before he could think or reason, she pulled him to her, finally allowing his skin to feel hers. And the last coherent thought that crossed his mind was that, truly, he didn't mind being exposed like this.

Her skin was smooth, her muscles rippling beneath his fingers, and he tried to burn each second into his memory forever as he grabbed her by the small of her back and pulled her close, so their bodies were, once again, flush together. The heat of her burned his skin. The proximity of their lips physically hurt. She thrust her hips into his as the last beat of the song vibrated the room, and he audibly groaned in longing to be closer to her, despite being pressed against her.

Finally her lips met his in an open mouthed caress, and it was a rush that set his veins on fire. His whole body burned against the softness of her kiss; her tongue sweet and searching, her teeth grazing against his lip. It was all he could do not to pull her up and wrap her legs around his torso and take her, right then.

For the briefest moment, he saw a memory flash across his mind—his apartment, the entrance, the number. She pressed her hands to the side of his jaw and pulled back, her lips wet and swollen from his kisses, and led him to the door.

The moment they were outside in the cool air, the streetlights cold against warm green searching the sky, he couldn't help himself. He turned and pressed her against the concrete building, running his hands over every inch of her he could reach, kissing her with a ferocity he had never known he possessed.

She opened her eyes, glittering green in the night, and pressed her hand against the front of his jeans. "What do you call this feeling?" she asked in a breathless voice.

And there it was: her eyes, glistening with curiosity, the desire to understand, the naivety of a new world. But also the fierceness that came with a tortured life, an innocence that was marred but not wholly destroyed, and the deep and animalistic desire beneath her heavy-lidded eyes.

"Lust," he answered.

She smiled and kissed him again, but this time softer. The wind whipped her hair around her head like a burning flame. All of a sudden, he felt his feet lifting off the ground. Her smile spread like liquid warmth into her eyes as they lifted out of the alleyway into the starry night sky. He knew that she planned to take him back to his apartment, but for the first time that night he felt fear.

"Kori, we will save you from these people. I don't know what they want. I don't know how, but we will. You're not going back, I promise." His whispers were lost in the wind whipping them into the starlight, but she nodded and he held her tighter.

"What do you call this?" she asked, searching his eyes for the answer.

He laughed. "Kindness? Trust?" She smiled. "Friendship."

He captured her lips again in promise. Her lips brushed his softly, a whisper of a kiss, and such a bold and full excitement rushed forth in him that it took everything in his power not to scream for joy. Her warm breath radiated out over his skin as she tangled her fingers in his hair, his hands pulling her closer still, wishing that every inch of them would stay this way forevermore.

He met her eyes again. "What do you call this?" he asked, curious.

"Araa," she said. "In your language, it means…." She paused, searching for the word in his memories, and Robin realized that he was not afraid of falling. "Love."