Hello everyone, and welcome to 'Save Me, Jump City'! I normally don't do author's notes before the chapter - I'd rather just let everyone read - but I wanted to clear something up real quick. If any of you have read my previous story 'Heartbeats', this story has NO correlation to the plotline of that (ie, Raven and Beast Boy do not have a child together). This is canon with the animated series, except it takes place ten years after the end of the series. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans! All rights to DC Comics. Here we go:

Chapter One – The Most Beautiful Girl in Jump City

The day started off with a shampoo commercial.

"Kori, sweetheart, you are beautiful! Can I get a pout?"

She pushed her lips together, angled her chin down, and gave the camera a smoldering look. Her red hair like fire tumbled over her shoulders. After a few clicks from his camera, she switched it up, tossing back her hair and giving a winning smile. The lighting guy's pants bulged.

"Kori, darling, I love you. I am in fucking love with you. Can we get one on your stomach, please?"

She laid down on the couch, flipped up her slender ankles, and leaned over. Bright green eyes peeked out over a curtain of hair.

"Oh, my God, you're the most beautiful girl in Jump City!"

I know. Seriously.

"Alright, one last one on your back, and then maybe a clip for the commercial? We can send it to corporate, they'll jizz their pants, you're sure to get the next campaign."

Not to be a bitch, but she already knew she'd get the next campaign. Shampoo commercials came as easily as marriage proposals to her. All she had to do was wake up and let down her hair, and every photographer in the City was on her dick.

She flipped over in her skirt, giving the boys a fun glimpse at her strawberry-colored lace panties, and then stretched out her long body, letting her hair fall over her chest. The photographer finished clicking, a wild-eyed look on his face, and then she sat up and they brought in the film guys. There was a quick stop at makeup, then they gave her the shampoo and got behind the lens.

She didn't even need a script anymore. "L'Oreal," she said, her voice sultry and her smile enchanting, "for hair that shines like the stars."

It was her signature phrase. After a few takes, the whole room burst out into applause, and the assistant came forward with her after-shooting favorite – hot dog with loads of mustard. It wasn't considered socially acceptable to drink mustard. Damned shame.

As she was munching, walking towards her dressing room, the director came out. "Ms. Anderson, I have to thank you so much. It really is an honor to work with you."

"The pleasure is mine," she beamed. "Lance is one of my favorite photographers in the city, and you've got a great crew. I'm happy to work here."

"We'll do everything in our power to make sure you get the next campaign, Ms. Anderson. I'm sure corporate will love it."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed." She leaned down – at five ten, she was taller than a lot of guys she met – and gave him a cordial kiss on the cheek. "I've got to get back to my agency, but it was great seeing you! Have a good rest of your day."

"Thank you, Ms. Anderson!" He smiled like a baby as she went into her dressing room. There was a brief pitstop for her commuting sandals – Jimmy Choo, of course – and her Prada bag, and then the supermodel formerly known as Starfire headed out onto the streets of Jump City.

She used to listen to her iPod on the way to work, but she figured out quickly that it was the sounds of the city that she needed to hear. Screaming people, honking cars, blasting music, especially on the east side fashion district where she worked. Upscale bars with slick waiters all ready to tell her how damned gorgeous she was.

Every day she listened to the sounds of the city. She wasn't sure what she was expecting to hear. A scream of someone in danger; the battle cry of a villain; the blaring siren of the alarm. Ten years and she still waited.

Starfire shook her head and kept walking.

It wasn't far to her agency, at the corner of 25th and Tangerine. She did shampoo commercials on the side, because they were so damned easy, but she was serious about her job as a supermodel. She'd been in the Prada show last year, and was hoping for Gucci this year. Vain, stupid, vapid shit. But she needed to pay the bills somehow. And it turned out that she was pretty hot.

As she got up to the sixth floor where she worked, two skinny male assistants were having trouble lifting up a gigantic box, probably full of shoes.

"Oh, guys, let me help!" She ran forward.

"Don't sweat it, Kori," one of them said, his young face twisted in pain. "We got it. It's really sort of a two-person thing."

Oh, yeah. All 260 pounds of the two of you together are doing such a good job.

She reminded herself that supermodels normally didn't have superstrength.

"Okay," she said, turning down the hall and heading to her office. A million tall skinny bitches walked past her, giving her deferential nods. Kori Anderson was the prima donna model of the last century. They all knew she was the queen bee.

"Kori! How was working with the peons?"

"The guys at L'Oreal aren't peons, Stella."

Her boss was attempting very hard to be Meryl Strep from The Devil Wears Prada. Today she was wearing oversized sunglasses inside and was carrying one of those giant Starbucks glasses, spilling cappuccino all over the carpet. She tottered over to Starfire in her Jeffrey Campbells and grinned.

"Well, I'm sorry, but when you've got the guys from Gucci on the phone, everyone else seems so…blasé."

"Gucci called?" Her heart raced.

"Yes! They want to interview next week. When are you free?"

"For Gucci, whenever they want me. Well…actually, not next Tuesday afternoon."

"What's up?"

"Personal."

She clenched her fists together. Once a week she needed the release. She hadn't gotten a chance to this week, and she could already feel the power in her hands, itching to explode. She couldn't take chances with her powers when she had a Gucci appointment. She had to get it out of the way quick.

"Can you ask for any time after Tuesday?"

"I'll do what I can." Stella winked and moved back down the office. "You're a gem, Kori."

"Oh, stop it."

Starfire headed down the well-lit hallway to her personal office. She slipped behind the desk, clicked on her email, and saw that the Pantene guy had emailed her twice asking for a shot next week. Jesus, that photographer was apeshit. Wanted her to try that new modeling fad where you look ugly to look pretty. Was it just her, or was that really stupid?

Thinking about it, small green sparks flew out of her hands.

Shit. She put her hands beneath the desk and thought. No choice now. She had to go tonight. Her powers had been building up all week. If she didn't get rid of them somehow, she was gonna have another incident.

She'd have to explain to her boyfriend, Gary, where she was going. He wanted her to look at houses with him that night. He'd been begging her to move to Gotham city with him for a year now.

Behind her, beautiful sunlight streaked in, setting all of her silver desk supplies afire. She allowed herself a breath and looked out her window. The sun burned bright, the city teethed with people, possibilities, potential. So much out there. So many lives she'd saved, once upon a time.

She couldn't leave. She couldn't shake the feeling that this city still needed her.

"Kori?"

The receptionist poked her head in. Starfire snapped out of her reverie.

"Yeah?"

"They released the theme for the D&G show this year. It's 'Wide Blue Sky'."

"That's fun."

"Yeah. They want some supermodels to be birds. Stella told me to ask you first. What do you think?"

"Can they rig up some sort of flying apparatus?"

"I can call them and ask."

Flying? She hadn't gotten a chance to do that, even fake flying, in so long. "If they do that, then I'm so in."

"I'll make the call," she said with a smile, scribbling the answer on her clipboard. "Any preference for what bird you'd be? They're just starting the designs."

Starfire snuck a glance out at the sky. Something fluttered deep in her chest.

"Well," she said, her voice soft, "my favorite birds have always been robins."

The day ended with a car thief.

He hopped in his own car, the feel of the gas pedal sending sparks up his legs, and cruised out of the station with the siren blaring. Eleven at night, and the streets were dead for a Friday. With the red Corvette in his sight, he punched the gas and flew through the night.

The idiot drove down a dead end after only a few miles. Damned shame. The chase had been so fun.

And then, because the night couldn't get any better, when he'd finally cornered the Corvette in a side street on the south side, the thief actually had the nerve to pull a gun.

"Listen, buddy, I'm armed," he said, dirty fingers gripping tight to the small pistol.

Boots crunched on the gravel. The heavy door of the cop car slammed shut. In the sickly neon light from a strip club next door, a black-haired police officer wearing sunglasses walked towards the thief.

"Seriously, I'll shoot you!"

"You're cute."

"What – "

He reached out, broke the thief's wrist with one hand and slammed him to the ground with another. While the idiot was still seeing stars, he'd come up from behind and began cuffing him.

"You are under arrest for theft. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot – "

"Who the fuck are you?" The thief spat.

"Officer Grayson, Jump City PD."

"How did you do that?"

"I get paid to do this."

"You really need to get laid."

He couldn't stop it. He punched the thief in the ear.

"What the fuck – "

Officer Grayson leaned over and hissed, "Bad move, wise guy. Now I'm pissed."

He pulled him to his feet and threw him in the backseat of the car. Going far faster than was legal, the police officer formerly known as Robin sped back to headquarters to put another criminal in jail.

He sped down the streets, but slowed down as he neared the station. He didn't want to go home yet. This fucking car thief had managed to pour salt in his largest wound, the one deep in his chest, between his lungs.

"Can't I know the name of the guy who arrested me?" The thief said from the backseat.

"I already told you."

"What about a first name?"

"Not in your Miranda rights, now was it?"

"I'm Larry Todd."

Robin smirked. "I'm Dick. It was not a pleasure to meet you."

"Do you enjoy busting up normal guys like me?"

"More than life itself."

"My girlfriend's gonna kill me for this…you sure you had to bring me in?"

"Stealing cars is a felony." He couldn't help but sneak a glance in the rearview mirror. This fuckup had a girlfriend?

Larry Todd smirked. "Do I sense jealousy from the big shot police officer?"

Robin pulled out his gun and leveled it over the back of his chair. Larry stopped smiling when the click of the cock came. "Shut it."

They drove in silence for another few minutes. Robin laid his gun on the passenger seat and stared at the stars. God, they were beautiful tonight.

If he turned on his TV tonight, she'd be beautiful. She was everywhere. Her infectious smile, her flaming red hair. Those mesmerizing alien eyes, staring at him from every billboard in this city.

He needed to leave. Needed to get over her. But he could never leave. He could never leave the city where the two of them had saved so many lives.

Besides, at least here, no matter how painful it was, at least he'd be able to see her.

"The one that got away?" Larry asked.

"Not really any of your business."

"Mine was named Maria. How about yours?"

"I don't have to answer that."

Larry rolled his eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Star. Her name was Star."

"That's kind of a stupid name."

Robin reached for the gun.

"Geez, man, I'm sorry, chill."

Robin eased back down on the gas. The sooner he got this asshole out of the car, the better. He could never manage to talk about her for more than five minutes.

When they pulled into the police station, the rookie officer was standing by, ready to take this guy in. Robin opened the door and murmured,

"Can you take him? I gotta get out of here."

"Sure, Dick, but – "

Robin swung around to his own car sitting outside the station. Just as before, he slammed on the gas and heard the screech of the tires as he peeled out into the streets. He couldn't go fast enough. One of the city's best officers was on the verge of breaking the law.

But he still couldn't go fast enough. Tonight, he wanted to fly.

Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading, and I promise to update soon! 3, PVB