[Hey everyone. My story is a few chapters deep now, so I thought I'd post a quick summary of what this IS and what it ISN'T for new readers. Titans: BLACK is my attempt to tell a espionage heavy, hard-edged, crime-heavy tale of the Titans four years after the final episode, 'Things Change.' The story is following the canon of the cartoon and really the cartoon alone. I'm going to ignore the Titans comics, how they introduced Rose, Geo-Force, etc. and write my own versions of how those characters are introduced, if they are at all. I use some of the canon from the Justice League show, and I plan to use characters from DC comics as well. The most notable being Batwoman.

The story is a mature tale. There will be violence, swearing and some sexual content. I'm going say up front though that this story isn't going to be a hyper-violent, edgy collage of sex and murder, but those elements will be present. I want to keep the characters as IN CHARACTER as I can, so that means they aren't going to suddenly start killing people.

As always, please leave any comment you wish! I appreciate all kinds, even the shipping stuff. Just a note though... The story in this comes first, romance secondary. So, if you are in this for a relationship based story, it isn't going to be that. My focus is telling fun, exciting stories within my favorite television universe with a mature but sensible tone.

Thanks! And enjoy.]

-Garfield-

"Atta boy Sonny! You got him!" Timothy the Boy Detective shouted. He skipped over to where Garfield sat atop the 'criminal,' and gave him a gentle pat on the head.

Garfield hated the pats the most. No matter how many takes they did, it always seemed to irritate him. Sometimes he wondered if the director did extra takes just to piss him off, but he tried to put that out of his mind. It was about the job after all...

Garfield gave a happy bark, wagging his tail and lolling out his tongue like always. He made sure to get that puppy dog twinkle in his eyes so the kids at home had something to 'aww' over. By the sounds of it though, he'd be out of the job soon. The ratings for 'Sonny the Crime Fighting Dog' were tanking, and Garfield could understand why. Kids these days didn't care about cheesy, stupid stories about a dog who fights crime. This wasn't the freakin' 80s. They had video games and other stuff to keep them entertained. There was no room for a Beast Boy anymore.

"Annnnd cut!" The Director finally called. Garfield shifted into his normal form, giving an arch of his back as 'Timothy' walked off set.

"Ugh, this shit was horrendous." Timothy said, calling back to him, "Christ Gar, think you could maybe stretch your acting chops just a bit?" He had a childish voice with an adult's tone.

Garfield looked at this twelve year old punk, who somehow was already convinced he was some kind of child prodigy of acting, with a scowl, "I'm the dog, dude. The dog ain't gonna give you Shakespeare. He's gonna bark and wag his tail."

"Well, this bitch probably just got our show canceled! You were a some kind of hero right? I wish you could have saved this production." He said, storming off.

And thank God for that… Garfield didn't have the energy to argue with Timothy tonight. Hell, he couldn't even remember the kid's real name. Gar made it an internal promise long ago to let those kinds of people just drop out of his mind. Their thoughts could be in the gutter for all he cared.

The kid was right though. This show was boned, and there was really nothing Garfield could do about it on his side. He walked towards the producer, who was busy on the phone, and waited. The sleaze ball eyed him for a moment, then produced a check from his pocket and turned away.

Garfield cracked open the envelope to find a check for two hundred bucks. Two hundred? That's all he had to live on? Great...

Garfield made his way off set, petting the back of his neck as he sighed. Working in Gotham turned out to be harder than he thought, especially in the TV business. Most of the good work was out West, but Garfield needed to stay here… In this cess pool. He had heard stories about Gotham, about the people who ran this city. He heard how the criminals locked their grip around the citizens here and didn't let go. He had no idea how true it all was until Nightwing showed it to him.

Garfield blinked, grabbing his cell phone from his pocket and looking at the time.

6:57 PM.

Crap…

Garfield sprinted for his trailer, stuffing the check in his pocket.

He burst through the front door and closed it, making sure it was locked. He then darted towards the vanity mirror, pulling out a plastic bag from his drawer with a number of cell phones rattling around inside. They had switched to burners weeks ago, yet Gar always forgot. He dumped them out onto his cot, separating them one by one.

Nothing…

He looked back to his cell phone. It read: 6:59 PM. Garfield waited…

7:00 PM.

The burner near the edge of his bed started to ring, and Garfield immediately flipped it open and held it to one of his elfish ears.

…

"We're on for tonight. Meet Red at the safe house in thirty minutes. We're expected at 10 pm."

"Got it."

*Click.*

Garfield fell back on his butt as he sighed out in relief. He was glad he made it in time. If he was late with receiving the call on the first ring, Nightwing would have scrubbed the Op… And this was an important one; a job straight from the top. Garfield wasn't sure, but he figured the JL was involved somehow. He snapped the phone in half, and then stood up to crush it beneath his boot. He then picked up the pieces and stuffed them in his pocket. He'd shove them down a drain somewhere on the way to Kate's safe house.

Gar looked back to the vanity mirror, looking towards himself.

The hero known as Beast Boy had changed quite a bit since the days of the Teen Titans. He called himself Changeling now. He was 18, a man nearly grown, and unfortunately thanks to his stay in Gotham, battle scarred. There was a long scar down his right cheek where he had taken a knife in an attempt to stop a mugging. He was on the job too, so he couldn't shape change. His left ear had the point blown off from a gunshot. Garfield had said 'screw it' to the no morphing rule on that one. Nightwing didn't take kindly to the decision. He had grown taller since he was a kid at 15, growing to a nice size of 5'6. He was still short compared to Kate or Nightwing, but he was happy with what little he got.

Through his aging, he had also grown very bestial. Fur had begun to grow on much of his body, most prevalent on his cheeks and forearms. His trademark fang grew sharper, and Kate sometimes commented on him being like an 'orge.' Garfield didn't mind. It was better than Elf, or whatever Raven used to call him. His hair had grown out a bit, covering much of his forehead. Kate said it looked shaggy, which fit him fine.

He slid the supplies into his backpack, the makeup and hair dye, and swung the pack around his arm. It was best to get there early. Garfield wouldn't know how much time Kate would need to apply the makeup until she saw what he had available. Unfortunately, the studio started CGing out his fur color in the show, so he didn't have much makeup to work with nowadays.

Garfield tugged on his uniform with an unbalanced bounce, tugging at the spot he knew ti chafe to make sure everything was in a comfortable place. He then threw on a hoodie and jeans, putting on a pair of black boots. He hoped his uniform wouldn't get too hot underneath the clothing, but thankfully Gotham got pretty cold at night… Even in summer. Gotham was weird. He finally put on a baseball cap, a Gotham Wildcats cap, and tucked in his elf ears underneath the rim. He then pulled on some black gloves, covering his sharp, claw-like finger tips.

Garfield pushed open the door to his trailer and headed out, keeping his head low. Wouldn't do much good to be recognized, especially tonight.

It didn't take long to get to Kate's safe house. He turned down an alley and looked down both ways. He wouldn't want to be seen by some homeless dude this late in the game. Garfield whistled up, standing back a bit. A long tethered rope flew down at him, and Garfield tightened his backpack against himself, grabbing hold. He quickly darted up the rope, climbing over the edge of the roof to find Batwoman awaiting for him in full gear.

Batwoman, or Kate as he knew her, was probably a year or so older than him. She was younger than Nightwing, but still older than Garfield. She got kicked out of the military for... personal reasons, and had been using her year out of service to dedicate herself to crime fighting. Garfield wondered if the powers at be were annoyed at the title of Batwoman that she took for herself, but they must not have cared that much because she was still patrolling the streets with the name. Garfield imagined the Bat clan couldn't really fuss at someone who was doing a good job at cleaning up the streets. Maybe they believed she had earned it...

Her uniform was mostly black. She had a red cape that flowed behind her, as well as a red bat emblazoned on her chest. Her combat boots were a blood red, along with her gloves. Her mask was a black eye cover, white filling the void where her eye balls would be, and it was all offset by her long, beautiful red hair. Garfield had to admit, she pulled off the 'Bat' look well.

"Hey Red. We uh, using code names now?" Garfield asked, running a hand through his hair as he pulled off his hat.

"Yeah. Since the call went out, Blue said we go code names only until the Op is debriefed." She stated, waving him inside. Garfield followed closely behind, swinging the pack around towards his front.

"There ain't much left. They started cutting the makeup bud-"

"No details Green." Kate said, lifting a finger up at him.

Garfield smirked, rolling his eyes, "Alright."

Inside the makeshift shack Batwoman had made for herself, she sat him down in front of a light. She then sat across from him in a chair, looking over his face, "You have the brush product?"

"Yeah, not much though. I figured I can wear gloves for my hands."

"Alright. We'll have to get some on your wrists though, or at least tape them up." Kate said, taking a hold of Garfield's pack and digging through the makeup. She pulled out a large tube of flesh toned powder and started to work.

Kate really rubbed in the stuff, caking it into Garfield's green skin. She did so much that even a scruff against his face wouldn't reveal his true skin tint. She was good at that. She had quite a bit on herself to give her face that ghostly white when interrogating a bad guy. Garfield lifted his chin so she could get his neck after she had finished with his face. Once she was done with that, he pulled up his cuffs so she could lay a foundation on his wrists.

Finally, Garfield sat in front of a mirror as Kate sprayed his hair with temporary dye, making it jet black, "Ugh, I look like Nightwing…" Garfield said with a grimace.

Kate chuckled, then ruffled his freshly dyed hair a bit, "This stuff won't last if it rains or you sweat it out, so try to keep it covered. Now, what are you gonna do about that fang?" Kate asked, stepping back and crossing her arms.

"No problem." Garfield spun around, fishing a pack of smokes from his hoody pocket. He put one in his mouth, piercing his fang into the filter. He lifted his arms to Kate, thinking she'd be impressed. She just smirked and nodded, "Alright, you're on."

Garfield lit his smoke as he awaited Nightwing to appear. He had time to replace it with a new one when it was time to move. He still had 15 minutes after all. He took a long drag, looking up at the night sky. He breathed in deep, taking in the cool air to fill his lungs before he let his breath and the smoke cascade out past his lips in a nice sigh. He could just barely make out Batwoman's shape in the distance, a flutter of the red interior lining of her cape catching the moonlight.

He turned his eyes back street level, looking up and down the empty road before him.

"You're smoking?" Garfield jumped, looking back to see the towering figure of Nightwing approaching him. Robin looked as how Starfire used to describe him when she took a trip to the future. He was well over six feet, muscular, hair obscenely long and reaching past his upper back. His chin had become much more square, and while Garfield couldn't tell, he guessed that he was pretty handsome under that mask.

But at the moment, he was in his civvies. He wore a black leather jacket, a pair of dark shades, and a beanie that held his hair in place. He walked next to Garfield, rubbing his hands together.

"Hides the fang." Garfield explained, yanking the used smoke from his pointed tooth and stubbing it out. He took another cigarette out of his pack and pushed it into the fang, letting it settle there unlit.

"Good thinking… But don't let it become a habit." Nightwing was always strict, even during the days of the Titans, but over the past four years he had become much more… Bitter some would say. He had reason to be. After Starfire left earth with Red X and Speedy, Barbara becoming handicapped, Raven disappearing, the once energetic leader had become much more solemn. Garfield noted that he completely absorbed himself in his work, never taking time off to hang or get something to eat. Kate would at least hang out with him. When the Titans fell apart, Nightwing took the death of the team as the death of his friendships too. Though he did help on Garfield and Cy's search for Raven…

"Noted."

…

"How's Babs?" Garfield asked, turning towards him.

"Not here. No details. No names." He muttered out, looking down the street, "They should be here any second."

"Jeez man, I don't ever see you outside of work… When am I gonna ask?"

…

"Fine, how's "Claire?" Garfield asked with air quotes.

"She's fine Green. Can we drop the small talk please?"

Garfield sighed, stuffing his hands inside his pockets. He blinked, suddenly becoming nervous, "How do I look?"

Nightwing quickly turned to Garfield, inspecting the makeup applied by Kate, "You look too clean." He then walked towards the building closest to them and rubbed his fingers into some dirty soot that laid into the foundation. He approached Garfield, rubbing some under his eyes.

He pulled away just as the headlights began to draw near, a black van turning the corner and speeding down the road, "Remember, we don't go hard until the pull has already been made. We need to find out what they're stealing."

Garfield nodded, putting on his best 'face,'

The van screeched to a stop, pulling alongside the curb. The van door swung open, and Nightwing and Garfield quickly jumped inside. The van was already flooring it by the time the thugs got the door closed.

Inside the van, the two sat down on the floor. They were given balaclavas and assault rifles, and Garfield quickly ditched his hat and drew on his mask. Nightwing checked his weapon first, and Garfield noticed he tacked on the safety. He gave Garfield a look and he did the same, only then did Nightwing pull on his mask. He kept his sun glasses on, blocking sight from everything but his mouth. Garfield made a note to memorize what he was wearing...

Garfield then took a moment to look about the van at the unsuspecting perps. Most were of general build, but there was a towering figure at the end of the van that was making the back of it dip. His head was pressed against the roof of the van, and Garfield felt a shiver trickle up his spine as he looked into his eyes.

They were a solid white.

Garfield studied the figure further, slowly coming to realize there was more about him he recognized...

Two fangs protruded from his mouth, and there was a tuft of red hair that peaked underneath his mask at the back end. He could hide it all he liked, but there was no mistaking Mammoth. Garfield gave Nightwing a nudge with his knee, and the former boy wonder looked towards where Garfield was looking. It didn't take long for Nightwing to register it, but when he did he gave a nod and went back to looking out the front windshield.

Mammoth could prove to be a problem, but it had been years since they had fought the monstrous creature. The question was: Was the rest of the HIVE five on this job?

Garfield laid his head back against the side of the van, looking back forward to watch the driver make quick, confusing turns up and down alleys and streets. If they were being tailed, he wanted to lose them quickly.

Finally, Garfield could see the factory in the distance. They were to be briefed once they got on site, but the gist of the job, according to Nightwing, was to steal a crate of military hardware developed by Lexcorp. Word had come down that whatever was in the crate was of high value, and it could turn the tide in a battle with the Justice League. Nightwing must have received word from the men and women upstairs to intercept said crate, but they couldn't just burst into Lexcorp. Lex was legit once again, and any sign of a heist on Lex's merchandise would be seen as an attack from the JL, who were already facing legal issues with the UN. No, this had to look like a crime by criminals, not supers. Taking out these thugs was secondary, the real mission was getting a hold of whatever was in that crate, and that crate was inside Lex's factory up ahead.

"Alright boys," The driver spoke up. He must have been the connection to whoever was pulling this job, "Word is the crate is upstairs in a safe room on level 3. We don't have an exact blueprint though. The mission is the crate, nothin' else. Don't get greedy or trigger happy, we don't need murder police or get the League investigating this shit. We're already taking a risk by pulling this during Batman hours, but we ain't gotta choice. If you have to shoot, shoot to kill, keep movin', and stick with your partner. Cool?"

No one said anything. Most of these guys must have been freelance, no prior connections with anyone else in this gang of robbers.

The van screeched to a stop outside the security desk, and the gang spilled out of the van quickly and quietly.

Garfield followed Nightwing from behind, keeping his rifle at the ready but his finger off the trigger. No one could die here tonight, that much was certain. No security, no robbers and no former Titans.

Nightwing made a dash for the guard at the gate, ducking below his line of sight as the rest waited for him to dispatch the guard. Nightwing sulked around the booth, dipping behind the guard and slipping his arm around his neck, pulling him into a choke hold. He held until he passed out, then lifted his rifle up and nodded us inside to join him.

From there, it was a mad dash inside. Most the workers outside were construction and maintenance, and they were moving so quick the workers hardly had a chance to recognize the group as a threat.

They all collapsed on the front door, stacking against the wall and then waiting for the move to breach. Nightwing led the way inside, and Garfield wondered how deep his cover went. Did he convince this group of rouges he was the one in charge? Garfield wouldn't be surprised. Nightwing was always the resourceful one.

They all pushed inside quickly, guns at the ready. There was a receptionist at the front desk, fiddling with her cell phone. Garfield decided to make himself valuable as well, so he darted over and hiked over the desk, kicking the poor girl in the face. She fell back hard, landing on her back as blood gushed from her nostrils.

The cry she made drove Garfield sick, but he had to stay in character. He quickly turned her on her front and zip tied her wrists together, leaning in to whisper, "Let it bleed." He reached down and pulled the crushed nose out so she wouldn't suffocate, and tried to block out the sudden cries and sobs that trickled out her lips.

He then stood up, joining the others as the converged on the elevator. He could see Nightwing looking at him. He tried to ignore it, tried to make it seem like they didn't have any prior history. He probably disapproved of the use of force like that, but it had to be done. Criminals were brutal, and they had to show their force. Garfield wondered if that rationale made its way into Nightwing's mind, because the man stopped staring at him.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a lone scientist, looking over his notes. He raised his eyes casually, then yelped in terror as Mammoth smashed him into the side of the elevator, ramming his forearm into his neck. The man scrambled for breath, his fingers clawing at the massive arm that held him.

Nightwing had amazing patience, placing his hand softly on his arm, "Don't kill him yet. He may know where the crate is."

Mammoth nodded, letting up off the poor scientist. He coughed furiously, falling down on his knees as the troops surrounded him, "Ack... Uh... W-what do you want?"

"We're looking for a crate: High value, came in last night." Nightwing stated, pressing the barrel to his forehead, "You have one chance to show us where it is."

The man nodded quickly, standing up to press the button for level 3. The group filed into the elevator, Nightwing holding the rifle to his back as he stood behind the man.

The poor guy looked to be in his late thirties, but his legs trembled like he was a little boy. The possibility of death could do that to a person. Garfield wondered if he could remember those trembles, before the threat of death became so normal.

The doors opened with a 'ping!' when they reached floor 3, and Nightwing led the way with his hostage in tow.

The man did what he was told, navigating through the numerous hallways and doorways until they came to a storage area. Level 3 was surprisingly empty. They all must have cleared out after quitting time. Nightwing pushed the man down on his belly, zip tying his wrists as Garfield looked in through a small window into a room, "I see a crate labeled 'Lexcorp' behind a steel cage."

"That's us." Nightwing said, opening the door.

The group pushed inside, and Mammoth went to work breaking the cage open. He pressed his foot to the foundation, and then wrapped his hands around the bars on the door, pulling towards him. He growled, straining to bust open the cage. Garfield could hear the steel start to churn, the bars bending at his will as he eventually busted open the door with a loud snap.

This was the moment...

Nightwing said the code phrase, "Score." Nightwing dropped a smoke grenade, the room instantly filling with vision blurring grey smoke.

Garfield shifted from a human to a large gorilla, giving a roar as he swung back, knocking a robber off his feet and out the door. He toppled backwards unconscious.

He then Slammed his whole body into Mammoth, taking him by the hair along the back of his neck and slamming his head forward into the bars. He continued to bang his head against the steel, awaiting for that resistance to give out and the monstrous Mammoth to go limp.

Garfield couldn't see him, but he assumed Nightwing was sweeping up the rest. He could never hear him move, only the smacks and grunts of the men he put down. Eventually, it was quiet, and Garfield gave a loud snort as Mammoth started to push back, trying to break free. He was strong, and Garfield wouldn't hold long against a furious Mammoth.

Thankfully, Nightwing crawled on Garfield's back, reaching over him to place a gas grenade on Mammoth's face. Garfield backed up as it went off, a puff of green toxins filling Mammoth's lungs before he fell over, unconscious.

Nightwing jumped down, reaching for his watch and activating the timer, "Ok, 3 minutes. We gotta have this crate on the roof in 3 minutes."

Garfield nodded, still in Gorilla form. He waddled into the cage, picking up the crate in his arm like it was nothing. He then grunted towards Nightwing, following the hero towards the stairs.

They booked it upwards, Garfield taking a few liberties in skipping some floors with his ape reflexes. Nightwing didn't even need ape reflexes; he jumped between floors like they were nothing...

It was only a matter of time before the two were on the roof. No sirens yet, nothing... They had moved fast. Nightwing pulled a flare gun from his utility belt and shot it off.

The flare filled the sky with light, illuminating the two as the searched Gotham's horizon for the Blackhawk helicopter stolen off the army base just East of the plant.

A few seconds later, a lone helicopter approached at low altitude. It came in close, and Garfield could see Kate at the helm. It dipped towards them, hovering over the two.

Nightwing drew out his grappling hook, and then shot a round towards the chopper. It hit the underbelly, and the claws of the grapple sank into the steel, gripping it tight. He then attached the crate to his hook, hopping atop the crate as Garfild morphed into a hawk and flew up towards the deck of the chopper. He then morphed back into his humanoid form, sitting on the edge as Nightwing pulled himself up.

As Nightwing slipped inside, he sat next to Garfield, looking out over Gotham. The chopper pulled away, steering towards Inner Gotham as the Lexcorp plant shrank in the distance. Garfield stuck out his fist towards him, and for the first time Garfield had seen in weeks, Nightwing smiled. He returned the fist bump naturally.

"They're late..." Muttered Nightwing, crossing his arms.

The warehouse picked out for the drop was out towards Gotham's old industrial complex. It was a shabby thing, broken windows and old graffiti. Garfield could even pick out some of the old gang tags of Gotham. The Ghost Dragons were there... Even some old Penguin tags.

Kate sat atop the crate, looking towards Nightwing as he paced back and forth, "This was a risky Op Blue. They'll show when they can."

"Why do I feel like they might not show at all?" Nightwing grumbled, walking back towards Garfield. Nightwing had been showing a growing resentment of all things JL as of late. He wondered what was causing it...

Garfield was sitting inside the chopper's bay, trying to wipe off what remained of the makeup that was on his face. He looked up to see Nightwing looking over him, "You got too aggressive with that receptionist. Let's hope she doesn't have brain damage."

"I was in character dude..." Garfield moaned, putting the rag down, "Besides, a broken nose won't kill her."

Nightwing didn't say anything. He just walked away, continuing his pace. He was probably right... Crime had changed though, and not for the better. Garfield missed the days of how it used to be, of battling villains who used goofy parlor tricks to get what they wanted. How they decked themselves out in costumes like they were a character for Halloween. Here in Gotham though... It was all drug dealers, mafioso's and psychopaths. Things had changed... And for Garfield, they had made their mark on him.

The loud blaze of Wonder Woman's invisible jet picked up just over the horizon. The distant burn of jet fuel came closer, until it was causing Garfield to lift his hand to block the gust of wind the jet was casting towards him. Garfield lifted his head as a shapeless form began to descend alongside the chopper, planting itself next to it. The engine started to fade, and Garfield once again had a hard time placing the jet's location.

A loading bay descended, the only thing visible among the blob of invisibility. It cast a yellow light against the dirty Gotham environment. Wonder Woman descended from the bay, followed by an old friend...