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SUZETTE LABOY | August 17, 2013 12:03 AM ET
ISLAMORADA, Fla. -- Sharks abound in the waters off Florida. But not on this day at this particular spot off the Keys as some `young scientists' are on watch for them.
About a dozen high school students – guests of the University of Miami's marine research program – went aboard the vessel Curt-A-Sea. Their mission: to help scientists capture sharks, measure them, take blood and conduct other tests before tagging them so they can be tracked. The sharks would then be released back into the ocean.
Shark Series Part 2
SidneyAnne Stone | July 31, 2013 10:21 AM ET
If you are not familiar with shark finning, it is a brutal process in which the shark's fin is removed for the purpose of making shark fin soup. The shark is then thrown back into the water where he/she is unable to swim and drowns to death. For a graphic clip of an actual occurrence of shark finning, click here. It is my hope that after viewing this clip you will want to join the fight to protect sharks.
Many in the ocean conservation community know what a problem shark finning is and what a threat it poses to the environment. Further, any major disruption to our ecosystem stands to threaten our entire existence. Much like the butterfly effect, when you kill a shark, you just don't know what kind of impact that can have on our environment. By eliminating an apex predator, you set off a chain of dominoes and there is no telling where they may stop. The amount of gross overfishing that has occurred in recent years may have already caused enough damage to cause certain species to become extinct in our lifetime. Organizations like Oceana allow you to log on and make your opinions known about the practice of shark finning.
Just last week, Governor Andrew Cuomo signed a bill banning the trade of shark fins in the state of New York. While shark finning was already illegal in waters off New York, this also makes it illegal to trade shark fins in the state -- further enforcing New York's intolerance for the practice. Governor Cuomo stated, "Not only is the process inhumane, but it also affects the natural balance of the oceanic ecosystem." As my readers know, I am always a proud New Yorker but particularly at moments like these. Unfortunately, New York is in the minority on this issue so speak up and write to your local representatives, senators, Congress and governor and advocate for the environment that we all share!
Matt Rutherford's Mission to Make Ocean Research Affordable
Lesleyann Coker | May 21, 2013 2:27 PM ET
In 2012, Matt Rutherford became the first person to solo circumnavigate North and South America. He completed the non-stop 27,000 mile journey in 10 months in a tiny, old sailboat.
During the course of his epic journey, the then 31-year-old capsized in the Arctic battling waves, avoided being smashed by a tanker and navigated a maze of icebergs large and small. In South America, he experienced Cape Horn's famous beauty and cruel winds. He also faced the literal doldrums - areas near the equator without any wind. And all while spending more than 300 days in complete solitude.
Politicians monitored his progress, and a documentary for the Sundance Film Festival is in the works.
Now the ambitious sailor has launched a non-profit company, Ocean Research Project, which aims to identify new, lower-cost methods of conducting ocean research.
At the beginning of May, he set sail on his latest adventure in the Atlantic. Before his departure from St. Katharine docks in London, he spoke to Lesleyann Coker.
In 2012, you became the first person to solo circumnavigate the Americas and the Northwest Passage. What motivated you to attempt such a journey?
It all started as a fundraiser for a local Annapolis-based non-profit called C.R.A.B [Chesapeake Regional Assessable Boating]. At this point I've raised over $120,000 for the non-profit by doing the trip. I'm also a great admirer of [Ernest] Shackleton, and his story inspired me to try something that most people thought was impossible.
How did you get started in sailing?
I bought a little 25-foot boat from the '60s back in 2004 and sailed it from the Chesapeake Bay to the Florida Keys. I knew nothing about sailing when I left. I made every mistake possible, but over time I taught myself the skills necessary to cross oceans, and eventually, sail around the Americas.
What's your connection to Senator Tom Harkin and Governor Martin O'Malley?
Martin's wife, Katie, saw me off the dock the day before I left and I've been invited to their house several times since my return. Tom spoke about me on the floor of the Senate after I passed Cape Horn. He has shown an avid interest in my story. Tom Harkin is an old school Democrat who understands how important it is to reach across the aisle. He will be missed [after he retires next year], especially on environmental issues.
2013-05-20-IMG_1766.JPGThe Sailing Channel has produced a documentary about you, Red Dot in the Ocean. What's its status?
It looks like we may get into Sundance if it's done in time. Nothing is guaranteed. They approached me to make a documentary, and after a month of "contract negotiations'" we started the film. Here's the trailer.
You recently founded a new 501c non-profit called Ocean Research, which aims to dramatically lower the cost of conducting ocean research. What are the typical costs of ocean research, and what will be your costs? How will you approach the problem differently?
The typical running costs for scientific research in the open ocean is between $6,000 and $15,000 a day, depending on the organization. With Ocean Research Project, for our first expedition we have a daily running cost of $73 a day.
We're living in a changing economic environment; you can no longer think big boats, big crew, big budget. Instead, a non-profit should think small boat, small crew, small budget. By doing this, you not only reduce the cost of the expedition, but also the overhead.
All too often when $100 is donated to a non-profit, $90 goes to salary, renting office space, paying the electric bill, etc. With Ocean Research Project, the majority of the funds raised go to the mission.
What will be the implication of reducing the cost of ocean research? More research? Why is ocean research important?
Once you have reduced the cost of the expeditions, you can travel farther for longer and collect more data. There's still a prehistoric way of thinking within much of the general scientific community. Too many scientists think the organization that spends the most money or has the biggest research vessel somehow collects the best data.
The reality of the matter is that by working with universities and bringing along one or two scientists who bring their own equipment and are trained to use them properly, you can collect a wide variety of important data about our changing oceans. It's true, we cannot have submarines and helicopters, but most research is done by equipment that can be installed or carried onboard a 40-50 foot sailboat.
Ocean research is important because we are all affected by the ocean no matter where you live. The ocean not only produces food for 25 percent of the world's population, but also produces between 50-75 percent of the world's oxygen through Phytoplankton, which lives in the ocean. The problem is the ocean is not part of any country, and it's out of sight out of mind.
There has not been enough research done within the open ocean because in the past scientists have tried to collect important data with big boats and big budgets. I sailed 27,000 miles, over the top of Canada and around Cape Horn on a 27-foot boat without stopping. I can tell you from experience you do not need a 150-foot, two million dollar boat to cross an ocean or do good research.
You're about to embark on a research mission [he embarked the first week of May]. Where are you going, what are you researching, and what do you expect to learn?
MR: During our first expedition we will be at sea for 75 days collecting data, while sailing 6,500 miles of the Atlantic Ocean.
The Atlantic Ocean is home to the Atlantic Garbage Patch and coincides with one of the five major oceanic gyres. The Sargasso Sea Gyre is a huge spiral of seawater formed by colliding currents. Most offshore sailors have seen floating junk on the high seas, but it's a problem that has not been thoroughly explored in the mid-Atlantic. It's the poster child for one of the worldwide ocean problems: plastic that's initially created with human hands, then ends up in the ocean, often found inside animals' stomachs.
We have several objectives for this expedition:
We'll conduct a Sargasso Sea marine debris reconnaissance survey using standardized data collection methods. This study will add to the global understanding of quantity of marine debris in the gyre and will stimulate awareness of the consequences of manmade debris. This project is run in collaboration with our Partner 5 Gyres.
We'll conduct ocean acidification data collection to supplement existing efforts to portray the acidity condition within a gyre in an open ocean marine debris laden environment. This data may reveal a significant concentration of high acidic marine water that may jeopardize the livelihood of critical marine life.
The vessel will act as a mobile observing platform reporting atmospheric and oceanic observations to NOAA [National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration]. It serves as a voluntary observing ship to feed international atmospheric and oceanic modeling databases that depict global weather forecasts, climate studies, and support mariners' safety at sea. Work will be in cooperation with our partners which include NOAA's Voluntary Observing Ship, the Ship of Opportunity Program and the Atlantic Oceanic and Meteorological Laboratory.
What are the dangers involved in this research project?
There is always danger in the vast open ocean. That said, reward lives in the house of risk.
I can teach a person the skills necessary to cross an ocean alone, but I can't teach the mentality a person needs to sail alone across an ocean. Either you've got it or you don't. If you don't learn to control fear, fear will control you.
Exploration is the physical expression of intellectual passion.
How can people follow the progress of your journey, or support your non-profit?
You can follow the expedition at There will be a tracking device on the boat so you can see our position, and a weekly blog so you can hear the story as it's happening. You can also donate on the website.
Photo Credit; Matt Rutherford
Want to Save Starving Sea Lion Pups? Here's How
Megan Pincus Kajitani | March 18, 2013 11:26 AM ET
Tears streamed down my 7-year-old daughter's face this cloudy, March morning, as we watched the plight of a lone female California sea lion pup, clearly exhausted, struggling to keep her head above water and get herself to our local beach's jetty.
The Sea Lions' Struggle
In our city of Carlsbad, Calif., just up the coast from downtown San Diego, at least 40 malnourished, young California sea lions have been rescued since January. According to a local news story, about 150 malnourished or injured sea lions are typically rescued in our region each year -- but this year, from Jan. 1 to not even mid-March, there have already been 130 rescued.
This morning when we called the local sea animal rescue center about the stranded pup, their voicemail said they are extremely busy. A spokesperson from there told the local news that there's "something going on out in the ocean" in relation to our sea lions' food supply. Clearly.
The Bigger Picture
But here's the thing: This isn't just a local issue, and it isn't just about this specific group of sea lions' food supply.
Something is going on with all marine mammals' food supply. Something major is happening with all of our ocean ecosystems. These malnourished pups are just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.
Dr. Bruce Monger, an oceanographer at Cornell University, told my class in eCornell's Plant-Based Nutrition Certificate Program that we as a society have "maxed out the ocean."
Many marine scientists believe that, at the rate we're going, the seas will be barren by 2048. (Did you get that? No sea life in 35 years!)
Like the roaming plains buffalo shot by humans to extinction, Dr. Monger says, we can extract every single animal out of the ocean. And with commercial fisheries not just taking all the fish but also seabirds, sharks, dolphins, turtles and every other kind of sea animal (most thrown out by the trawlers, dead, as "bycatch"), we are doing just that.
The sea lions of the Pacific Rim and Alaska are now endangered because, Dr. Monger explains, fishing "took away all their food, and they are starving to death." I contacted Dr. Monger this week and asked him about the California sea lions: Are they next?
He told me scientists are studying two main factors likely causing the crisis with this species: overfishing and climate issues. But, clearly, he said, "the sea lion pups are probably starving because their mothers are starving." Clearly.
You Can Help Save Them
So, here's the other thing: You can actually do something to stop this ocean crisis, whether you live here on the coast, in the middle of farmland or on a mountaintop. We all can.
I get that it's hard, I'm a former sushi lover myself, but we must stop eating fish. There simply are not enough fish left to keep them on our plates, and still leave enough to keep our ocean animals alive. Period.
I've heard all the justifications, and my replies go something like this:
• You can still do your sushi ritual, just do it with veggies instead of fish (as my half-Japanese, sushi-loving husband and I now happily do).
• Farmed fisheries are no better, with incredibly high rates of disease, which is unhealthy, inhumane and harms wild fish as well.
• Eating land animal meat is also harming the oceans, by the way. An amazing fifty percent of the world's fish catch is fed to industrial farm animals, not to people (as Dr. Will Tuttle explains in The World Peace Diet). And nitrogen runoff from those factory farms is creating huge "dead zones" where no sea life can survive.
The good news is that pleasurable, healthy, social eating is possible with plant-based food. It just takes making the choice -- to help animals rather than eat them.
Actually, Dr. Monger believes it's both personal choice and political will that will save or destroy our oceans: Beyond urging us to avoid eating fish and other meat, he urges us to speak out against the government subsidies that fuel overfishing.
"The fish in the ocean are as much yours as the fishing industries', and if you would rather see your fish left in the ocean, you have the right to speak up and ask your leaders to help," he says. "If you remain silent about it, someone is going to step in and take [your ocean life] away from you for their own profit."
The Next Generations
This morning, my sniffling 7-year-old asked me why the malnourished sea lion we watched could not find food.
As fishing boats trawled closer to shore than I've ever seen them, I wanted to tell her that the sea lion and her brothers and sisters will find food. That they have plenty of food to find. That the ocean is ripe with life.
But, the truth is, I can't tell her that, because as each day passes, it is becoming less true.
I told my daughter instead that we can make a difference for that sea lion by calling the rescue center to help her. And on a bigger scale, we can make a difference for all sea lions, by not eating their food and by educating others about their dwindling food supply.
Through her tears, my daughter asked me if I could educate more people today.
So, I'm writing this piece today for my daughter, for the sea lions and all the animals, and for the future. Before it's too late -- at the very least -- please do your part to save our ocean animals by letting the fish be food for them, and not for you.
Janie Campbell | December 15, 2012 7:55 AM ET
Some people say -- and they make a good case -- that to understand Miami you have to understand the forces and influences of the drug trade, money, and Cuban immigration.
Or you can look at the corals, according to Colin Foord and Jared McKay, the UM-trained marine biologist and experimental musician who form the scientific artist duo Coral Morphologic.
The pair tie their work, which involves not only growing but filming and soundtracking corals in their glowing Overtown aquaculture lab, to Miami's distinction as the only mainland U.S. city on a coral reef, with corals even growing inside the city limits.
You might even blame the tropical polyps for those vibrant "I'm In Miami, Bitch" tank tops.
"There aren't any other life forms on the planet that are as natural fluorescent as living corals; this is something that wasn't even really observable by mankind until 50 years ago," Foord told HuffPost. "The colors of Miami -- these bright neon colors -- have always been the essence of the city before the city was even here. The cement in the buildings is made from the ground-up skeletons of fossilized coral. The colorful essence is literally built into the city."
Colonies of corals, Foord says, also reflect who we are as a 21st century metro. It's a concept he and McKay have highlighted by projecting them onto South Beach buildings during Art Basel, onto AmericanAirlines Arena, and during festivals in Britain, Sundance, and Miami's own Borscht Film Festival. Saturday night at Borscht 8, they'll debut a new work called "Fungia."
Their "scientific and artistic exploration of living coral reef organisms... radiated the most beautiful and unexpected work I saw," wrote curator Patterson Sims, the man behind four Whitney Biennial exhibitions, after an arts tour of Miami in April.
(Story continues below.)
By using their carefully tended, DIY aquariums to both create and fund their art -- a side business selling cloned corals to aquarium owners helps keep the lab lights on and the artists and animals in constant symbiosis -- the pair not only highlight the Magic City's incredibly rich and unique makeup, but draw multiple parallels between reefs and humanity.
"We really see corals as futuristic organisms," Foord explains. "They're very modern. We live in a time when the world that you're born into is totally different than you die in; it necessitates that you're constantly adapting to technology. It's a changing world and the actual biosphere is also now changing more than ever. Being that they're cemented in place, [adapting] is just what corals have been doing for millions and millions of years."
But our corals point not only to Miami's past and present, but future.
"If given the chance -- if sea levels are to rise -- the corals will happily move back into the city and start growing on our infrastructure," Foord said. "We already know they're growing inside the city limits on our trash. This is the flip side of projecting onto buildings. Miami has always been an ephemeral place: it's underwater, it's out of the water, it's underwater, it's out of the water.
"Anyone who thinks the sea level rising washing South Beach back into the ocean is a terrible environmental catastrophe is misinformed about the very nature of South Beach as a real estate scheme to begin with. It's another side of the story of climate change and human interactions with the planet that every time there's a catastrophe there's an opportunity for life to take advantage of new real estate to colonize."
How is it possible two middle school best friends from New Hampshire know Miami better than most Miamians do? Foord moved to the Magic City to study marine biology at UM, then McKay came down to start Coral Morphologic in 2007. Relative newness didn't stop them both from becoming instrumental in pushing Miami culture forward. They've helped nurture Wynwood's arts scene, started a record label, and discovered four new species of zoanthids, confirmed by DNA testing and published in the Journal of Marine Biology.
Next year, they'll install a Knight Foundation-funded aquascape video project at Miami International Airport and plan to start on a full-length Imax-style film.
"Coming in as outsiders, we maybe have a more objective perception of what's really happening here, what has happened, and what is likely to continue to happen in the future," Foord said. "At the same time, our whole perception of Miami has been shaped by our friends, artists and musicians who have grown up here that have really tuned us into a lot of things that someone from outside Miami would have a very hard time engaging with as far as a 'real' Miami.
"Without the arts scene and without all these artists and amazing people that Miami is blessed with, I don't think we'd have ended up on this track. We're definitely a product of our environment here."
What Happens Underwater During a Hurricane?
Janie Campbell | November 2, 2012 11:38 AM ET
By Brian McNoldy, University of Miami's Rosenstiel School of Marine & Atmospheric Science
We think we’re pretty familiar with hurricanes – strong winds, storm surge, flooding rains, ominous satellite images from space, and radar loops when they get near land. But what goes on at and below the ocean’s surface when a hurricane passes overhead? Quite a lot, actually!
Effects on the ocean properties
The upper levels of the ocean are typically strongly stratified by temperature and by salinity. That is, colder, saltier water lies below the warmer, fresher water near the surface. When a hurricane comes by, it mixes everything up, resulting in a muddled and more homogeneous upper ocean. That means the surface water is cooler and saltier than it was previously was, and deeper water is warmer and less salty than it previously was. However, in very shallow coastal areas, the copious amount of fresh cold rain water from the hurricane can actually reduce the temperature and salinity of the near-surface water.
Time series of the vertical profile of temperature and salinity from the ocean’s surface down to 200m, and spanning one day prior to the hurricane’s passage through 2.5 days after the passage. The dramatic mixing down to approximately 150m is evident. Time in days relative to the passage is listed along the horizontal axis. This particular case is from Hurricane Frances (2004) on 1 September. (Sanford et al., 2007)
The colder surface water upwelled by the hurricane can actually be a fairly significant player in controlling the hurricane’s intensity. A strong slow-moving hurricane will upwell cold water much more effectively than a weaker and/or fast-moving hurricane. And since hurricanes require warm ocean water to fuel their “engine”, that upwelling can end up weakening the storm. The trail of upwelled cooler water left behind a storm is called a “cold wake”, and shows up clearly on maps of sea surface temperature.
Map of sea surface temperature before (left) and after (right) Hurricane Isabel in 2003. Isabel’s track from the eastern Atlantic all the way into the mid-Atlantic coast is evident by the cold wake left behind. (NASA/GSFC)
Intense hurricanes can generate 60′+ waves, and at the ocean surface, the boundary between the water and the air becomes nebulous. Amidst the formidable waves, sea spray and foam streak horizontally across the surface at high speed, blurring the view of the ocean’s surface in this photo from an aircraft flying through a hurricane.
Photo of the sea state under Category 4 Hurricane Isabel taken from 400 feet above the surface. Note that the aircraft was not in or near the eyewall at this time or altitude. (Will Drennan, RSMAS)
But below the ocean’s surface, the currents and turbulence beneath those waves can also be quite destructive. Unlike places above the surface, the ocean doesn’t “forget” about the storm very quickly… strong currents and turbulence have been known to exist up to a week after the storm passes overhead. Damaging currents can extend down to at least 300 feet below the surface, capable of dismantling coral reefs, relocating ship wrecks, breaking oil pipelines, and displacing huge volumes of sand on the seabed.
Simplified schematic showing the parts of an ocean wave. At the surface, there are crests and troughs. Crests are separated by a wavelength. The depth to which a wave’s effects can be felt depends on the wavelength and wave height.
Effects on marine life
Some studies conducted in the Caribbean Sea have shown that in the year following a hurricane, coral cover is reduced by 15-20 percent (more or less, depending on the intensity of the hurricane) in the affected areas. There are several factors that go into the negative effect on coral: 1) the turbulent water breaks it, 2) the days of muddied water reduces the amount of sunlight reaching the algae in coral tissue, 3) the fine suspended particles clog the pores, and 4) the tremendous amount of rain reduces the salinity of the shallow ocean in the immediate area which can stress coral.
Large self-propelled marine animals such as sharks seem to be minimally affected, since they can detect tiny changes in pressure as larger waves at the surface approach, as well as the reduced surface pressure associated with the storm itself, and go deeper or leave the area. However, hurricanes have been known to result in tremendous numbers of dead fish, crabs, sea turtles, oysters, etc due to reduced amounts of dissolved oxygen in the water, rapid salinity changes, and violent surf.
Just like us up here on the surface, marine life suffers for months to several years from the death and destruction following a hurricane.
Brian McNoldy
Senior Research Associate
University of Miami Rosenstiel School of Marine and Atmospheric Science
Author of Tropical Atlantic Update
Follow Brian on Twitter: @BMcNoldy
(Flickr photo via Surf Cabo)
What Does A Coral Reef Sound Like?
Janie Campbell | October 26, 2012 12:17 PM ET
What does a coral reef sound like? Perhaps surprisingly, it isn't a cacophony of indie-band boings and wriggles.
In fact, thanks to University of Miami PhD candidate Erica Staaterman, you can hear a Florida coral reef in the video above, which documents her research into the behavior of pelagic fish larvae.
Billions of such "baby fish" are born every year, but must find their way to a coral reef to survive -- a needle in a haystack journey, as Staaterman describes it. For her research at UM's Rosenstiel School of Marine & Atmospheric Science, she set out to determine whether larval fish use the soundscape of the reef as a navigational tool.
The project, which in video form is a finalist in the National Science Foundation's "Creating the Future" contest, involves playing the reef back to fish larvae in a special underwater chamber and then documenting their behavior.
(To us it sounds like frying bacon, but maybe we're just typing hungry.)
"Coral reefs comprise less than 1 percent of the ocean, but they are one of the most important areas on the planet both ecologically and economically," Staaterman says in her video. "Due to human impacts like overfishing and climate change, they're also one of the most threatened marine habitats. We need to discover how fish larvae find their way home, because the replenishment of reef fish populations depends upon the success of this next generation."
Click above to hear the abiotic and biological symphony of a Florida coral reef, and vote here for Staaterman's video.
RISE: Climate Change and Coastal Communities
Stephanie J. Stiavetti | July 24, 2012 10:38 AM ET
This month yet another new study about climate change* was released. But this one is different. Unlike many previous studies in which scientists are hesitant to draw causal connections between global warming and specific weather events, this study comes out and says it: "Global warming makes heat waves more likely." The study also found that global warming is making other weather extremes more likely, such as droughts and heavy rains.
Higher global temperatures heat up the oceans, as well. When the water in the seas heats up, it expands -- this is called thermal expansion. Thermal expansion is one of the biggest causes of sea level rise. Throw in melting glaciers adding more volume to the rising waters and more frequent heavy rains, and we've got a big problem for the more than 600 million people around the world who live in coastal areas that are less than 30 feet above sea level. And it's not just those people whose homes are right beside the water. Many others are at risk as floodwaters inundate sewage treatment plants, airports, freeways, and farmland.
RISE: Climate Change and Coastal Communities explores this international issue through the lens of a single place: the San Francisco Bay Area. Six multimedia web stories take a look at the personal lives of men and women living along the water who are facing a rising tide.
Save the Polar Bears, Save Ourselves
Sylvia Earle | April 20, 2012 3:06 PM ET
Spill Cleanup? Just a Cost of Doing Business?
Jackie Savitz | January 31, 2012 9:41 PM ET
Here's a new item to add to the long list of expenses that are putting our country into deficit spending: cleaning up oil spills. While we keep hearing that companies like BP are on the hook for the costs of cleanup, in truth, much of the cleanup will be paid for by the U.S. Treasury itself. As it turns out, BP and other oil companies can write off the costs of cleanup, forcing about a third of the billion dollar cleanup tab to come out of the Treasury. So, besides the normal billions of dollars that we already forego each year by giving tax breaks to some of the richest companies in the world, now we have billions more that those who spill oil into our oceans can get from our bank account even after committing one of the most heinous environmental crimes imaginable.
Thankfully, Congress is taking notice, but will it have the political will to end this ridiculous giveaway? So far, Big Oil and its allies have been all too effective at preventing any legislation whatsoever from passing in the wake of the Deepwater Horizon Spill. Today, Congressman Alcee Hastings (D-FL) introduced the "Oil Spill Tax Fairness Act" to end the practice of allowing oil companies to take tax breaks after they've caused an oil spill. The Joint Committee on Taxation estimates that the bill could save the Treasury more than a billion dollars a year by placing cleanup costs squarely on the laps of those that made the mess.
Remember, these are companies making record profits. Today, Exxon announced that it earned $41 billion in 2011, up 35% from 2010. Yet there seems to be no end in sight for the broader slate of tax gimmicks that result in billions of dollars lost to the Treasury each year. At the very least, these bad actors should pay to clean up their own messes. I have nothing against writing off business expenses, but a major oil spill is not, and never has been considered a normal "cost of doing business." Nor should it be. Killing workers, devastating marine life, including dolphins, corals and endangered sea turtles, shutting down fisheries, making people sick, and destroying the cultural fabric of coastal communities should never be considered just a cost of doing business. And companies like BP that take tremendous risks with our resources certainly should not be rewarded for doing so.
Congress and the Administration should be doing much more in response to the Gulf Spill, like imposing real safety requirements, lifting the horrendously low liability cap, ending tax handouts to oil companies, and ultimately moving us away from offshore drilling. But at the very least passing the "Oil Spill Tax Fairness Act" would be a good first step.
Wallace J Nichols | October 4, 2011 10:23 AM ET
The ocean is the single biggest feature of our planet.
Phytoplankton in the ocean provide more than half of our oxygen and provides the basis of the primary protein for more than a billion people.
Humans have derived unmeasurable inspiration, joy, recreation and relaxation from the ocean for millennia.
But we have treated the ocean poorly, and its decline in recent decades has been catastrophic for our planet and its people.
We have put too much into the ocean, in the form of oil, sewage, fertilizers and pesticides, antibiotics, plastic pollution, noise and increasing levels of CO2.
We have taken too much out of the ocean by subsidizing and encouraging inefficient and destructive overfishing, bottom trawling, long-lining, purse seining, dynamite fishing, irresponsible aquaculture and illegal hunting.
We need an Ocean Revolution.
It is our coast and our ocean.
The time is now to Occupy The Ocean.
[Repost this anywhere you like, adding to it as you will.]
| September 19, 2011 5:42 PM ET
By David Biello
(Click here for original article.)
Jellyfishes rely on drifting to eat. They take their luck with currents, and create tiny eddies to guide food toward their tendrils. Yet in waters from the Sea of Japan (aka East Sea) to the Black Sea, jellies today are thriving as many of their marine vertebrate and invertebrate competitors are eliminated by overfishing, dead zones and other human impacts. How have these drifters of the sea reversed millions of years of fish dominance, seemingly overnight?
Biologist José Luis Acuña of the University of Oviedo in Spain and his colleagues now suggest that jellyfishes are just as effective at mealtime as fishes when judged by the right measures. "Jellyfishes are ancient organisms, which use a primitive predation mechanism based on generating feeding currents to bring the prey into contact with their bodies," Acuña explains. "In spite of this primitivism, jellies are as effective as fishes in catching prey and in transforming the energy acquired [into] body growth and reproduction."
So where fishes use their eyes to spot planktonic prey, jellyfishes rely on body size—like the lion's mane jellyfish's 37-meter-long tentacles—to maximize their success. To achieve that size gain, predatory jellyfishes have relied on water incorporated into their tissues—the refrigerator-size Nomura's jellyfish from the Sea of Japan comprises mostly water. A larger body requires more energy to move, so jellies let the surrounding water do the work for them, which makes them some of the slowest swimmers in the sea. And measured by the amount of carbon in their bodies—rather than total weight—jellies consume and incorporate as much prey as fishes do, Acuña's team found. The results are detailed in the September 16 issue of Science.
"It is very neat work," says ecologist Kylie Pitt of Griffith University in Australia, who is working on similar research. When combined with overfishing, climate change, fertilizer runoff–induced dead zones and other human impacts on ocean fishes, a watery evolutionary stage has been set for a jellyfish takeover—dubbed the "gelatinous ocean" by some scientists.
There are exceptions to this rule: The cannonball jellyfish—a seafood delicacy in Asia—shoots through the water at 15 centimeters per second, a decent clip. And the return to ocean conditions last seen in the Ediacaran period more than 540 million years ago—when jellies last ruled the seas—has been a boon for certain fishes in habitats like the Benguela Current in the South Atlantic off Namibia in Africa, where jellyfish-eating gobies have replaced sardines in the food chain. The growing abundance of these jelly-feeding gobies now serves to provide sustenance to the predators that formerly feasted on the sardines, such as seabirds, larger fishes and, ultimately, humans. "We need research to be sure of what new ecological scenarios are arising," Acuña says.
"It is time to take [jellyfishes] seriously," Acuña adds, both as a marine predator and a future seafood source.
BP's Bad Timing
Jackie Savitz | September 8, 2011 4:51 PM ET
If you were BP, wouldn't you wait for the right time to go back to the U.S. government to ask for more permits to drill? What would seem like a good time to do that? Surely, it wouldn't be when oil is gushing uncontrollably from a BP site on the cold, dark ocean floor, or a day when oiled birds were washing up on beaches. Certainly fisheries closures wouldn't still be keeping Gulf fishermen from working, and people wouldn't still be rebuilding their lives, after losing jobs, and even loved ones following the explosion.
I picture BP coming back for more drilling rights on a bright, sunny day, with clear blue skies, birds chirping and butterflies fluttering around. Flowers would be blooming, and green marsh grasses would be swaying with the fresh breeze. The kind of day when it seems as if there is not a care in the world.
Sadly, that's not how the Gulf looked yesterday, or today. BP's announcement that it wants more drilling permits came on a day when the Gulf still looks more like a traumatized post-disaster site than the pretty picture of recovery we so hope for. Everywhere we look we see reminders that the oil is not gone and people and wildlife are still suffering.
Just two weeks ago there was a large oil sheen spotted in the Gulf, not the first since the Deepwater Horizon of course, but one which was tracked back to an area near two abandoned wells. There are about 27,000 such wells in the Gulf with the potential to leak at any time, and oftentimes do so unnoticed since they are neither monitored nor adequately inspected.
Then, just last week, a new oil sheen was found near the site of the Deepwater Horizon. BP's initial response was less than helpful, but independent chemical analysis showed that the oil looks an awful lot like theirs. The sheen can't really be explained by a passing boat, or a leaking rig. A natural seep is a very low odds possibility, not to mention a convenient theory for BP. But many believe this oil may be coming from the well, either from the abandoned riser, or from a leak springing from a fracture caused by the blowout. BP has no good explanation. They say they don't see the sheen. But it's bad timing to be asking for more drilling.
Maybe they couldn't see the sheen because far from being a clear, sunny day, the ocean is stirred up thanks to Hurricane Lee. Lee isn't the first hurricane to hit the area since the spill, and it won't be the last. It's a reminder that more permits for drilling in the Gulf may not be such a good idea. Hurricanes Katrina and Rita famously led to numerous spills in Hurricane Alley. When there's a hurricane threatening the existing Gulf rigs, it may be a bad time to ask for more permits.
And finally, anyone who did think it might be a nice beach day may have been disappointed to be greeted by a fresh new batch of tar balls on the shoreline. BP oil? Authorities are not yet sure. But one thing is for sure: it wasn't the first set of tar balls to wash up, and it won't be the last. Especially not if BP and other oil companies continue to insist that their right to drill trumps everything else in the Gulf. Oh, and one other thing: It's probably not a good day to ask for more drilling rights.
| June 23, 2011 6:13 PM ET
In case you needed any reminder of the awe-inspiring wonders in nature, this video will do just that.
We don't know how we missed this incredible footage from last year, but we weren't the only ones, and it's definitely worth posting no matter how old.
YouTube user Seainggreen documents the hatchings of a giant Pacific octopus, which can lay up to 100,000 eggs, according to Wikipedia.
From the video's description:
A giant pacific octopus mother who lived just across from downtown Seattle had her hatch right under the noses of local divers. Her den was sequestered in Cove Two in West Seattle, in a location that spared her from predators and over-visitation by humans. On September 4 (aka early, early on September 5), 2010, the eggs began hatching. It's a time of mixed emotion; joy at the hatch, and sadness at the knowledge that this event means the mother's life will end. The hatch lasted a full week, after which the mother died.
Sit back, and prepare to be blown away by mother nature -- jump to 3:24 if you want to get right to it.
WATCH (via Digiphile):
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Titans Forever
by Blue Ten
When the Titans defeat a mysterious assassin targeting Starfire, they are thrust into a journey to possibly save an entire system from destruction. Can the Titans' friendships and bonds survive in the harsh environment of war? RobxStar, BBxRae
I do not claim any ownership of the TV series 'Teen Titans', or any of its counterparts.
Contains major spoilers for 'Trouble in Tokyo'.
Episode One: Hunted
- - -
Act One: Cheers, Plays, and Showoffs
A feeling of laziness drifted about with the warm breeze on this sunny day in Jump City. As was typical on such a day, the denizens of the metropolis – at least, those fond of the outdoors – would flock to the rolling green hills and shady trees of the park. None had come to satisfy vocational responsibilities or obligations of that nature; all had come to forget about such things, for as long as the good weather would allow. Even the city's five most notorious workaholics could not ignore the call of leisure time.
Running alongside the coast, the park's green acres stretched on, covered in many places by populations of short yet leafy trees. The hills looked out upon the brilliant blue of the sea, leading downward to the white sands of the beach, where many more people had undoubtedly taken the day off. However, the upper portions, where clearings in the trees created large open spaces, seemed to be among the favored spots. Here, in a clear patch of green beside a lengthy dirt walkway, a tense battle was in recess. The two opposing forces were both but a field's run from victory.
Cyborg stared forward at his opponents, fierce determination in his human eye. "Maybe y'all should just give up," he cracked, smirking confidently. "It might spare you the embarrassment of all-out defeat," he finished with a well-placed incentive. Beast Boy, with no less confidence on his smiling, green face, stood a few feet to the left of Cyborg's tall form, ready for the deciding match to take place.
"Heh," chuckled Robin, looking out across the open field, his back to the view of the ocean. "Funny, I was just about to say the same thing," he said, lowering one eyebrow under his mask as he gave a sporting grin. Starfire, though having lived on Earth for a long enough time, had always found herself unable to engage in 'the trash-talking', and so intended to simply wait until it was over. She stood at Robin's right side, ever supportive, though in slight confusion over strange Earth customs such as this.
Without further ado, Robin clenched the plate-sized, circular orange object in his hand and took a step back. Leaping forward, he threw his arm to the right and sent the disk flying across the field.
"A splendid kick off, Robin!" cheered Starfire, leaping into the air as well, an immense smile on her face as the Frisbee cut through the air.
Watching carefully as the saucer made its way over, Cyborg bent low to the ground and launched himself upward, his arm stretched high to make the catch. The spirit of competition abound in his expression as he caught the wayward object, Cyborg made an easy landing on the grass and stood up to point across the field. "Let's finish this in one shot," he said, peering over his shoulder at Beast Boy. "BB, go long!"
Nodding, the changeling took off toward Robin and Starfire's end of the field without restraint. Entirely focused on his goal as he continued, he had a simple strategy planned: run far, leap high. Grinning widely, he took several more quick steps until something abruptly snatched his attention away.
"WAIT!" shouted Cyborg as loud as he could... which, apparently, was more than enough.
Almost as though Cyborg's speech had become a physical obstruction in front of him, Beast Boy found his upper body halted. Unable to keep his feet from moving, he tripped over the grass and landed flat on his back. Groaning, about to stand up and protest, he turned to see what Cyborg had called a time-out for and immediately decided to join in.
A figure was stationed across the field from the dirt pathway, under a nice, shady tree. Sitting atop a flat, gray stone at the trunk of said tree, Raven remained still, a hard-cover novel held close to her face. Quietly, she flipped aside another page, paying little noticeable attention to the goings-on around her. Cyborg and Beast Boy now stood under the shadow of the tree, staring with narrowed eyes... something which Raven found excruciatingly impossible to ignore.
"...What?" questioned the empath after a long pause. She looked up from the pages of her book at the two, the extent of her vexation made visible by the sudden appearance of a vein on her temple.
Finally getting the response he was looking for, Cyborg's face grew a smile. "Hey, didn't Raven say she would 'root for us' since she's not playing?" he questioned, crossing his arms about his chest and looking over to Beast Boy, who stood at Raven's other side.
"It was a figure of speech," replied Raven, hoping to clarify things for Cyborg, at least. The next sentence, however, was intended for Beast Boy. "And, I only said it because, at the time, I was physically closer to--"
"Yeah," Beast Boy cut in, responding to Cyborg's question, apparently without knowledge of Raven's words. "And I don't hear any 'rooting'," he finished, cupping a hand beside his ear and leaning toward Raven expectantly.
Letting out a low sigh, Raven set the book down on her lap and stared off at nothing with a blank look on her face. "W-o-o-o," she cheered, with about as much enthusiasm as her expression displayed. "Go, team..." she continued listlessly. "Beat 'em..." she added more, reveling inwardly at the bewildered expressions Beast Boy and Cyborg now displayed. "Kick their collective a--"
"Okay already..." Cyborg suddenly broke in, shaking his head with narrowed eyes, his arms now hanging limply at his sides.
"'Figure of speech'..." quoted Beast Boy, shoulders slumped forward, eyes looking off to the side. "We get it."
As Cyborg and Beast Boy walked away, defeated and dispirited, Raven picked her book up and smirked. One more victory... and surely more to come. Hardly a day went by when she couldn't find some form of amusement in this manner.
As soon as Cyborg and Beast Boy made it back to the open space of the playing field, they stood still for a moment in silence. A slight wind rushed, rustling the grass beneath the two and whistling through the trees. Feet tapping on the ground, a runner in red and black made his way across the adjacent pathway... A group of birds chirped in the distance, their song filling up the relative silence.
"So... uh," started Cyborg, lifting the object in his hand and tapping the side of his head with it. "What were we doing again?" he queried. In response, Beast Boy simply brought a hand up to his face and scratched his chin thoughtfully, eyes closed in concentration.
Unable to believe what was going on before them, Robin and Starfire remained in place, faces catering to looks of utter confusion. After a moment of examining the situation, however, they soon caught scent of what might be going on. Their expressions soon shifted to ones of annoyance.
"THROW THE FRISBEE!!" shouted Robin and Starfire in unison, fists held low and clenched tightly.
Caught off guard, Beast Boy and Cyborg nearly fell over in response to the explosion that erupted from across the way. Repositioning themselves, the two chuckled sheepishly. Considering they had actually managed to get that reaction out of Starfire... and not just Robin, they figured they had done enough damage.
"Heh..." Cyborg held up a hand in defense, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. "Just messin' with ya," he said, closing his eyes. Finally getting into the game again, he looked back to Beast Boy. "All right. How 'bout we try for the 'Parallel Play'" he suggested in a sly tone of voice.
Beast Boy took a moment to grin back. "Gotcha," he replied with a secretive understanding.
Readying themselves, Cyborg grasped the Frisbee, looking across the open field, and Beast Boy slid one foot back, preparing for a mad dash. Quickly, Beast Boy took off, kicking up blades of grass with the sheer amount of force he applied to his steps. Waiting a moment for Beast Boy to gain some distance, Cyborg poured all his strength into throwing the Frisbee, sending it high to follow behind the changeling.
"They're going for the 'Parallel Play'," said Robin, watching closely as Beast Boy headed their way from his end of the field. "Nice try. But we won't fall for that again," he added, smiling competitively.
"No we will not," agreed Starfire with a joyous expression, implying that they had already come up with a countermeasure. Moving closer to Robin, she reached out and took hold of his hand. The two stood almost like a barricade as Beast Boy, in the distance, could be seen shifting his form.
As a cheetah, Beast Boy tore his way onward, keeping up with the speed of the Frisbee behind him. As soon as he met a critical distance with Robin and Starfire, he bounded forward, changing form once again. Landing on the ground as a kangaroo, he wasted no time and sent himself soaring with a powerful leap, morphing back into human form to grin at Robin and Starfire as he passed them by. The two had made no attempt to get past him, or even move at all. Ignoring that odd fact, he looked back to see the Frisbee still coming his way; deciding he had some time, Beast Boy simply looked forward and stretched his arms out at his sides.
As soon as Beast Boy's attention was away, Starfire made her move. Taking her free hand and grasping Robin's upper arm, she turned around to face Beast Boy and launched the Boy Wonder into the air with one quick motion. She smiled, watching Robin close in on Beast Boy and the Frisbee. The rest of the game was now up to him.
'Hehe. Couldn't get past my block,' thought Beast Boy with a chuckle as he flew along, unaware of what had just occurred behind him. 'Just like last time...' he trailed off, suddenly sensing something wasn't quite right. Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder.
Robin held his arms back and his knees forward to gain speed. His cape flapped furiously behind him as he flew closer, a confident look on his face. "Hey, Beast Boy," he called, causing the changeling to shift his weight and face him, shocked, of course. Robin decided to gloat a little. After all, they had found a good way around Cyborg and Beast Boy's... 'invincible play'. "Got anything to say before this is over?" he questioned.
Beast Boy paused for a moment, unsure of what he could do. Suddenly, though, the Frisbee caught his eye; spinning through the air above their heads, it seemed to have gained some height since he last looked. "Yeah," he responded, trading his shocked expression for one of smug sureness. "Thanks for the lift," he said, making sure to give Robin a nice, big grin.
"...Huh?" wondered Robin, his facial expression contorting as confusion set in. Before anything more could be said, Robin's face was met by the underside of a large, green frog. In an attempt to remove the amphibian, he moved his arms forward and reached for his face... which caused him to lose some of his forward momentum. With surprising force, the frog's legs pushed away from his face. As Robin's flight slowed, he could see Beast Boy morphing back into human form and reaching for the Frisbee... smiling appropriately. Taking his mind off of his slight frustration, Robin braced himself, realizing, with his current rate of descent, he would soon come in contact with the ground.
Seeing Robin falling out of the sky, Starfire quickly took off in his direction, looking up and holding out her arms as she ran. Just before the Boy Wonder could hit the ground, Starfire leaped forward and made a quick catch. The two suddenly found themselves tumbling across the grass due to the speed at which they met, as well as the hill's slight slope.
Finally coming to a stop on her back, dizzy eyes facing the sky, Starfire sat up straight and turned to Robin... who was on his hands and knees, in the process of pulling his face away from the ground. "You are okay?" she asked, finding it hard not to smile as he wiped a few blades of grass from his face.
"Yeah..." replied Robin, remaining close to the ground as his lightheadedness from the spin wore off. "Just remind me never to try frog legs..." he said, smiling with a slight cringe as he remembered the frog falling right on his open mouth.
Seeing the Frisbee coming his way, Beast Boy knew victory wasn't far. All he had to do was make a catch, and land safely in the 'end zone'. Reaching up high, he opened his palm and waited for the object to glide right into it. However, a pair of... intriguing voices soon turned his eyes away from his goal.
"Wow, look at that guy," said one of two girls who had been walking along the path beside the field. She tugged at her friend's elbow and pointed up to the sky. Blocking their eyes from the sun, the two girls watched in awe as Beast Boy flew along. Short, blonde hair pushed away from her eyes, the first girl simply smiled and stared up through sparkling blue eyes, looking thoroughly starstruck. Mouth agape, the second girl, a brunette with long, wavy locks, appeared truly impressed.
Though a little surprised at first, Beast Boy's ego quickly grew several notches in response to the extra attention. Finding it hard to resist showing off a little, he placed his hands behind his head and took a relaxed pose, as though flying through the air was nothing to him. "Hey, ladies," he spoke over the wind, sending a wink their way with a large grin on his face. The two girls responded by giggling.
Watching from his side of the field, Cyborg shook his head and slapped a hand over his face, hoping against hope that the little showoff could still make the catch. Raven, though still sitting under the tree, had her attention grabbed by the events... but mostly, the giggling; looking down the field with one eyebrow raised, she nonchalantly flipped aside a page of her book. In the process of helping each other up, Robin and Starfire took notice of Beast Boy and wondered if they had been given another chance to win.
Deciding to show off again by making the catch in some outlandish manner, Beast Boy morphed into a small dog with big, bright eyes, and opened his jaw wide. As the Frisbee came close enough, he closed his eyes and quickly snapped his mouth shut. 'It's in the bag,' he thought, smiling inwardly as he reached the peak of his arc and began moving toward the ground. Quickly, though, he realized something was missing. Opening his eyes, Beast Boy felt nothing but air in his mouth and looked up to see the Frisbee flying away above him. His expression faltered as he felt himself gaining speed, closing in on the ground. Morphing back into a human, he flailed his arms about wildly, neglecting to try another animal form due to his state of panic.
Face colliding rather painfully with the ground, Beast Boy slid across the field a good distance. Sitting up and spitting out chunks of dirt and grass from his mouth, the changeling looked up through squinted eyes to see the Frisbee continuing its flight down the hill. He chuckled nervously with an embarrassed grin as the orange disc disappeared behind a grouping of trees.
'Wow... that flew pretty far...' thought Beast Boy, massaging the pain from his forehead.
"You just had to turn into a dog," commented Cyborg, now standing just behind Beast Boy, who flinched in response to his words.
Beast Boy turned around to see Cyborg staring down at him seriously. Though he knew the fault was entirely his, he felt the need to defend himself in some way. "Tch... You're the one who issued that 'no flying' rule," he started, making sure not to look Cyborg in the eye as he spoke. "Plus... everyone knows chicks love puppies," he finished, crossing his arms defiantly. After a long silence, Beast Boy opened his eyes to a squint, seeing Cyborg's unchanged expression... though his eyebrows seemed much lower than before. "'I'll go find the Frisbee'?" Beast Boy spoke for Cyborg, finally giving up his useless defense as he pointed off to where the aforementioned object had gone.
"That's more like it," said Cyborg, expression still set in stone, watching as Beast Boy guiltily made his way down the hill. As soon as Beast Boy disappeared, Cyborg let his shoulders fall forward. 'We were so close!' he thought, eyes practically tearing up at the thought of losing in such an embarrassing way. However, he knew it was only karma, losing when he expected so much to win. "I guess there's no such thing as an invincible play..." he admitted to himself reluctantly.
"So..." started Starfire, looking away from the far end of the field, her attention back on Robin as they walked to where Cyborg and Beast Boy's starting point had been. "This is a good thing?" she asked, smiling hopefully with a hint of blush in her cheeks.
"Well," replied Robin, coming to a stop as he thought back to the events during that final round, "it was a tie-breaker, and Cyborg overthrew, so I guess that means..." he trailed off, crossing his arms in thought.
"We are victorious?" Starfire clapped her hands together happily. She had been hoping for this, because it gave her an opportunity to once again try one of her new favorite Earth traditions. Stretching out her arms, Starfire locked Robin in a strong embrace and administered a nice, big smooch to his cheek.
Though, considering they were together now, and he had gotten mostly used to that kind of thing, Robin found himself caught completely off guard by the kiss. Entering into a stupefied daze, a ridiculous smile on his face, Robin swayed back and forth as Starfire let him go – happily standing aside, currently unaware of her affect on the boy. Most likely due to a combination of flying through the air at high speed, falling, tumbling across the grass, and receiving a kiss, Robin suddenly lost his balance and fell to the ground. Placing a hand over her mouth and gasping, Starfire immediately knelt down to help her boyfriend up.
A small sound of amusement could be heard to the side of Robin and Starfire. "Still can't handle those victory kisses, huh?" asked Raven without looking away from her book, a tiny smirk on her face as she flipped aside another page.
- - -
Act Two: Killer Smile
Having taken the form of a bloodhound, Beast Boy sniffed away at the ground, sensitive nose passing over each blade of grass as he meticulously searched for the scent of the Frisbee. Coming upon the distinct smell, he began to pick up his pace, snout still pressed firmly against the ground. All the while, his mind was brimming with various grumblings...
'Why do I have to search for it...? He's the one that overthrew,' thought Beast Boy with contempt, paying little mind to the flurry of footsteps suddenly passing him by. 'Well... I guess it was partly my fault,' he admitted to himself. 'Wouldn't have happened if I didn't show off like that,' he continued as another set of footsteps thumped against the grass at his sides and quickly faded out of earshot. 'Then again... Cyborg probably would have done the same, maybe worse.' Beast Boy chuckled inwardly at the thought.
Though his mind was focused mostly on smell and his own thoughts, leaving sound at a distant third, he couldn't dismiss yet more footsteps crossing by his person. Lifting his head from the ground, Beast Boy looked back only to see a young boy running up the hill... rather frantically. Shrugging his canine shoulders, he ignored the oddity and turned back to the ground, resuming his search.
Nose bumping into a bit of orange in the grass, Beast Boy barked happily upon recognition of the Frisbee and quickly resumed human form. Reaching forward, he began to pull at the saucer, only to find it stuck to something. Practically pressing the object into the ground, at the other end of the disc was the toe of someone's black boot.
"Uh, hey..." started Beast Boy, tilting his eyes up toward the owner of the foot, "you're standing on my--" Beast Boy cut himself off with a surprised gasp as his sight took in the rest of the figure. The man's getup was mostly pitch black, except for heavy silver bands adorning his wrists and ankles, and a thick belt of the same color at his waist. Behind the figure, though hard to see in the bright light, a long object swayed back and forth... a tail? Spanning his chest was a peculiar gray design, oblong in shape with three evenly-parted, vertical points at its base, the longest in the middle. However, peculiar uniform and tail aside, what caused Beast Boy the most alarm about the... creature... was currently staring down at him in a decidedly unsettling manner.
Upper half almost made a silhouette by the sun behind it, the figure's facial features were hard to make out. Stretched across a gray faceplate was a wide and terrifying grin, above which were a pair of eyes, narrowed to thin white slits. It was obviously a mask of some sort, but that fact made it no less frightening to Beast Boy. Merely the look on the monster's face seemed to adequately describe itself as 'blissfully psychotic'.
"Um..." started Beast Boy, finally choking back a bit of his initial fear. However, before he could mutter anything else, he found his collar grasped tightly by the creature's... gloved, claw-like, three-fingered hands.
- - - - - -
"Hm... That's weird," started Cyborg, having joined the others by Raven's tree. He looked down in slight confusion at the time displayed on his arm's computer screen. "Usually doesn't take Beast Boy this long to find something like that," he said, looking to Robin and Starfire.
"Perhaps he has located his female fans, and has decided to initiate the small-talking?" queried Starfire, remembering the two girls who had since disappeared. Robin and Cyborg's slightly amused expressions seemed to imply they agreed.
Seeming a little annoyed by what Starfire had pointed out, Raven set her book aside and looked to the others with a twitching eyebrow. "If that's the case, then I wouldn't be surprised if he's getting his face shoved into the side of a nice, big tree right about now."
- - - - - -
"Oof!" coughed Beast Boy as his cheek was slammed harshly against the bark of an oak. Held in place by the creature's hands, he stared back beyond the fingers, feeling worn out. He had put up a good fight, but the tall and lanky creature was surprisingly strong. For the last several minutes, Beast Boy had been fighting back against the mysterious enemy, given no time to contact his friends, while being constantly questioned about the whereabouts of... an alien girl. Now, face pressed firmly against the side of a tree, feeling the soreness of being jabbed, kicked, and whacked in one too many places, he decided to wait as long as he could to regain some energy. Grabbed by the collar once again, Beast Boy was pulled away from the tree and quickly slammed back against it, now face to... face with the monster.
"We know it is lying," the creature started in his odd, shrill voice, the grin on his mask remaining still even as he spoke... more evidence that it was simply for purposes of intimidation. Pushing Beast Boy harder against the tree, he began to sniff the air sharply, causing the changeling to cringe. "That wretched scent is unmistakable. This one has surely been in contact with the foul being." For a moment, the masked attacker simply stared at Beast Boy, narrowing his featureless eyes, his frozen smile becoming all the more unnerving. "We will ask it once again. Where is the filthy Troq?" the creature questioned, his high, crackling voice grating on the green Titan's ears.
Beast Boy lowered his eyebrows and glared as the question registered in his mind. Troq... He knew what that term meant... and he wouldn't stand for someone insulting his friend like that. Beast Boy huffed and turned his head to the side, coming up with a good plan for escape.
"Where's the Troq?" Beast Boy restated the question, still looking away. "Funny, I coulda sworn he was holding me up by the collar just now," he grinned, chuckling appropriately. However, he quickly found himself slammed back against the tree once again.
"Twisting Zoka's words. It is clever, this one," spoke the creature in a deceivingly amused tone, revealing his name. Releasing one hand from Beast Boy's collar, Zoka continued to hold the boy up and swung his free arm backward through the air; a scraping metal noise sounded as he did so. Zoka brought his hand back up to Beast Boy's face, brandishing the thin, sharp blade he had extended from his wristband. "Perhaps we shall see how clever it is in the absence of its head..." he threatened, holding the weapon close to Beast Boy's neck.
Beast Boy suddenly took a deathly seriously expression and stared Zoka directly in the eyes. "Dude, you are threatening the wrong people," he said, voice shifting to an almost low growl. Zoka's eyes showed signs of confusion as Beast Boy seemed to gain mass, gradually losing his humanoid form. In little time, the masked creature found himself high above the ground, grasping the neck skin of an enormous lizard. Beast Boy, in Tyrannosaurus form, looked down at the pitiful creature still attached to him. Deciding to take his revenge, he let out a deafening roar, causing Zoka to flail wildly like a flag in a hurricane.
- - - - - -
The four Titans remained in the shade of the tree, taking a break as they waited for Beast Boy's return. Robin and Starfire, sitting back on the grass together, were simply looking up at the leaves as the sun broke through various apertures, engrossed in their own quiet conversation. Raven, still perched on her rock, had leaned back against the tree; eyes closed and book set aside, she appeared to be resting peacefully. Taking a note from the others, Cyborg had reclined back against the grass under the tree; arms behind his head, he watched the thin clouds drift about in the midday sky. At this point, they had decided to let Beast Boy do whatever he wanted... it was a day off, after all.
Hearing what he interpreted as a loud car horn, Cyborg quickly sat up and looked around, feeling the ground rumble a little. "What was that?" he asked, looking over his shoulder to the others. Robin and Starfire had already gotten up, both looking alert, though they shrugged to imply they didn't know what caused the sound.
Raven cracked one eye open and scanned the area. "It sounded like a roar to me..." she stated, having recognized the tone as one of Beast Boy's ancient lizard forms.
Nodding in agreement, Robin decided to take action. "Could be trouble," he said, turning around to look down the hill in the distance. "Let's--" Robin stopped, finding himself staring into two green and jittery eyes, whose pupils were severely dilated.
"Big," started Beast Boy, sounding out of breath as he stared eerily at Robin. Jumping over to Starfire, who reacted instinctively by guarding with her arms, the shaken changeling continued his peculiar behavior. "Ugly," he added, quickly moving over to Cyborg, whom he had to climb in order to get face-to-face with. "Smiley-guy," said Beast Boy as the others simply listened and watched in confusion. Speedily moving on to Raven, still in a great deal of panic, Beast Boy took hold of her cloak and pulled her forward. "Trying to KILL me!" he shouted, pointing back down the hill without looking away.
Reacting calmly, Raven stared forward through lazy eyelids. Pushing Beast Boy's hand away from her cloak, she dusted herself off and looked to him inquisitively. "What are you talking about--" she started, eyes suddenly widening. "Get down!" she shouted, pulling Beast Boy away from the tree.
As Beast Boy and Raven fell to the ground, the Titans witnessed a quick, black blur rush across the area. Several splinters of wood broke away from the tree as a result. As the blur came to a stop, it revealed itself to be a tall, thin figure with a tail, clad in black and silver, a strange looking, round mask covering the entirety of his head. An odd length of gray tubing extended from the back of his mask to an area between his shoulders. The creature's right arm was fully extended; a blade attached to his wristband had created a large gash in the tree.
Zoka cocked his head to the left and looked down at Beast Boy and Raven. "The green one has friends... How peculiar," he said, turning to face them and pulling back his bladed arm. Thrusting the blade forward, he found it blocked by a wall of black energy. Raven held her hand up and focused her energy as Zoka continuously struck her shield to no avail. "Most peculiar indeed..." added Zoka.
"Big, ugly, and smiley... You weren't kidding," Raven spoke over her shoulder as she examined the creature beyond her shield, standing up fully to parry more attacks. Still feeling sore, Beast Boy made no comment and stood up, clutching one of his arms tightly and staying close behind Raven.
"Well, this guy doesn't waste any time," said Cyborg, recovering from his initial surprise. He turned his face to Robin with a semi-serious expression. "Were you gonna say 'Titans go', or is that just implied?" he asked, charging up his sonic cannon.
Robin shook his head, still wondering what in the world was going on. "Come on!" he said, rushing forward and waving for the others to follow. Starfire, at the back of the group, hesitated a bit as she looked upon the attacker... something about his form was frighteningly familiar. Shaking away her suspicions, she quickly followed after Robin and Cyborg, who now held their weapons ready.
"Hey!" shouted Robin, swiping his staff through the air to get the creature's attention. "You're probably new here, so I'll say this once..." he paused, narrowing his eyes, "we're the last people you'll be picking a fight with today," he said, holding his weapon defensively as the strange face turned to look his way.
Paying no attention to Robin, Zoka's eyes widened as he noticed the girl standing behind the two humans. Quickly extending another blade from his left wristband, he turned away from his prior focus and bolted forward. Thinking the attack was coming his way, Robin rushed into the battle and swung his staff. However, to his surprise, the enemy quickly dodged. Knocking Robin aside with a strong shoulder, Zoka simply moved on.
"Goin' somewhere?" questioned Cyborg, moving in front of Zoka with his arm aimed forward. Before Cyborg could fire, Zoka stabbed one of his blades into the bottom of the cannon and pushed upward, directing the blast harmlessly into the sky. Tearing his blade away, he delivered a powerful sideways kick to Cyborg's abdomen, sending him to crash against the tree.
Starfire stood ready, eyes glowing, both hands imbued with bright green energy. The tall figure dashed her way, blades held back. As Zoka executed a high horizontal slash with his right blade, Starfire ducked and sent a strong punch to his stomach in retaliation. The creature could be heard letting out a pained breath as he tilted forward over Starfire's arm. Using the punch to his advantage, Zoka flipped forward and landed on the ground behind Starfire; wasting no time, he swept his tail across the ground, knocking Starfire over. Kneeling low, Zoka hovered over Starfire and pulled a blade back. Seeing her chance, Starfire quickly threw an arm forward, firing a starbolt at the attacker's chest. Her blast had a strange affect, though... its light and energy seemingly absorbed right into Zoka's uniform.
Tightly grasping Starfire's wrist with a claw, Zoka narrowed his eyes menacingly at the frustrated Tamaranean. "Long have we awaited this day. Does it think us so foolish that we would not prepare?" he asked, pulling his free arm back.
Gritting her teeth, Starfire growled and tilted backward on her shoulders. Pulling her legs back, she quickly slammed her feet against the creature's chest, launching him away and into the air. Standing up, she watched as Zoka struck the ground in the distance and rolled to a stop, slowly recovering. Breathing hard, she looked furiously at the creature, calming down as she felt a familiar hand grasp her shoulder.
"Are you okay?" asked Robin, who had come to Starfire's aid along with the others. Turning to Robin, Starfire nodded... though she was sure her eyes had already told him different. Zoka's strange words were now hanging on her every thought...
"He's after Starfire," Beast Boy spoke up, standing at the back of the group, still tightly clutching his right arm. "Kept asking about her... Tried to beat the answers out of me, but I didn't say anything," he explained with a pained grin. "Looks like it didn't matter, though... he found you anyway..." he added regretfully, looking to Starfire who had turned a sympathetic eye his way. Seeing Zoka beginning to stand up, Beast Boy, along with the others, began to rush forward... however, with his injuries impeding him, the changeling only made it a few feet before falling to his knees and cradling his ribs with a groan.
Stopping and kneeling down to hold Beast Boy up, Raven looked him over carefully. Bruises were starting to form across his face – and the rest of his body as well, she could only assume... He looked much worse than before. She wouldn't admit it, but she felt rather proud of him for being so noble. "They can handle him for now," said Raven in her usual, calm voice, letting the others go after Zoka. "Just... tell me what's broken, and I'll see what I can do."
Pushing his hands against the ground to help himself up, Zoka was about to rush back into the fray, unwilling to let his target escape. However, as soon as his face turned away from the grass, it was met with a powerful strike which sent him tumbling across the ground again and onto a dirt pathway. Quickly regaining his balance, he stood up to find himself surrounded. Robin slowly retracted his fist, looking angrily at the masked creature. Cyborg, no less furiousness in his expression, stood behind Zoka, ready to attack on a moment's notice. Still unsure of the nature of this assassin, Starfire was ready to fight nonetheless, knowing now she had to keep to physical attacks.
Looking from opponent to opponent, Zoka let out a loud growl and dashed in Starfire's direction, having only one thing on his mind. Nodding at each other, Robin and Cyborg rushed up behind Zoka and grasped his arms tightly, holding him in place. However, both had to put all their strength into keeping him still as the tall creature thrashed about with an astonishing amount of force, whipping his tail back and forth.
Ignoring Robin and Cyborg, Zoka looked straight ahead at Starfire. "It will perish by our hands. And if its friends continue to fight, they will meet the same fate." Tearing his arms away, Zoka elbowed Robin and Cyborg in their stomachs, causing them to tilt forward. Taking advantage of the Titans' momentary weakness, he grasped their heads and forcefully slammed them together, sending both falling to the ground as a result.
"Robin, Cyborg!" shouted Starfire, rushing forward. However, she halted as the creature stepped away from her friends and moved in her direction, reptilian tail scraping against the dirt.
Retracting one of his blades, Zoka reached down to his belt and removed from it a short, tubular object – which appeared to be some sort of projectile weapon. Fastening it to his free wristband, he aimed it toward Starfire. "As we stated before, we are not foolish," said Zoka mysteriously. Soon after, an explosion of smoke erupted from the weapon and a length of glowing white rope with weights on its ends was propelled toward Starfire.
With such little distance between her and the attacker, Starfire couldn't see her way to moving in time. Immediately, the strange rope had wrapped itself tightly around her waist, tying her arms to her sides. Suddenly feeling all her energy disappearing, Starfire's eyes widened as she tilted toward the ground, falling flat against the dirt path. She couldn't move... not only because the rope was constricting her, but because it seemed to be draining the life from her body as well. She struggled, but could only find shallow breaths escaping her mouth as Zoka's footsteps approached.
"Four years planning..." started Zoka, slowly closing in on Starfire as he placed the weapon back in his belt and unsheathed his blade once again, "twenty-five light years traveled..." he continued, bending down beside her, "nine planets in this pathetic system searched..." he said, reaching down and pulling her up by the hair to face him, "and we find it here, in the open, mingling with the animals," he finished, staring her in the eyes. Starfire felt her body quaking as she helplessly watched Zoka pull his blade back. "We would have appreciated a more challenging hunt."
Swinging his blade downward, Zoka was infuriated to hear it clash against metal. Rushing in between Zoka and Starfire, Robin had blocked the blade with his staff and now held it safely at bay.
"Appreciate this," said Robin, glaring upward at the smiling assassin.
"Meddlesome primate!" growled Zoka, pressing harder against the staff. Eyes twitching and narrowed, he breathed angrily as he stared down at Robin. The Boy Wonder made no response and simply held his position. Suddenly, as the assassin lessened his push against the staff and looked over his shoulder to see the other Titans recovering, a small chuckle could be heard behind his smiling mask. "Another time, then..." he said. In an instant, Zoka pushed away from Robin, slashing harshly at the staff in the process. Sprinting around Robin, Zoka speedily disappeared into the trees beside the path, kicking up dust with his speed. He could be heard rustling away through the flora until the sounds faded out.
Letting out a breath, Robin squinted and felt a sharp pain on his cheek. Reaching a hand up to his face, he ran his fingers across the area and looked at them to see a small amount of blood. Ignoring it, Robin dropped his staff, immediately turning to kneel down beside Starfire, the terrified look in her glassy eyes sending a chill through his body. Finding the weights on the strange rope, Robin began to unravel it and finally tossed it aside. Holding Starfire up in his arms, he watched worriedly as she slowly seemed to regain her energy. Life finally back in her eyes, Starfire looked up at Robin without saying a word.
Robin couldn't stand seeing her this way... it scared him more than anything ever had. "Star... are you--" he started, immediately finding her arms draped over his shoulders, holding him tightly. It was not the kind of embrace he had become accustomed to from her. Starfire's body shivered relentlessly as she sobbed into his shoulder without restraint. Robin felt his heart sink as her heavy tears began to tap against him. He wanted only to comfort her, to tell her everything would be all right. Wrapping his arms around her back, Robin returned the embrace, slightly quelling Starfire's trembling. "Don't worry, we'll make sure nothing happens. I promise," he said, glad to feel Starfire's breathing settle.
Hearing Robin, Starfire attempted to calm herself in spite of the nightmarish thoughts running through her mind. No matter what was going on, she knew she could trust his words and that was enough comfort for her. "...Thank you," she responded without moving, a small smile appearing on her face.
By this time, the others had gathered next to Robin and Starfire, almost glad they had missed the horror leading up to this point... but more than a little guilty that they seemed powerless to prevent it. Cyborg scanned the trees with his robotic eye, making sure the enemy had actually left the area; he sighed with relief, seeing the only life signs were small creatures. Raven held Beast Boy's arm over her shoulder, helping him over to the scene; she had managed to heal a few of his injuries, but there was only so much her powers could do all at once.
"Thanks," said Beast Boy, letting go of Raven to look at Robin and Starfire. It was a gloomy moment, to say the least. However, he had seen a smile appear on Starfire's face and so thought it appropriate to lighten the mood a little. "This may not be the best time to say it... but, Cyborg, I think I lost your Frisbee."
- - -
Act Three: Plan Versus Plan
A bright, quarter moon loomed in the night sky over Jump City's bay area. Due to a slight cover of wispy, dark clouds, the heavenly body shone a parted glow upon the calm water. The waves reflected also the bright lights of the city itself, whose many buildings were lit up, streets still bustling with traffic. However, there was one building outside the multitude which was as dark as the night surrounding it. On its island in the bay, Titans Tower stood tall below the moon, all interior lights extinguished.
The three panes of the tower's common room windows invited the moonlight in. In the large floor's central sunken area, the arc-like, gray couch faced the windows, casting a heavy shadow where the red carpets from the main doorway and opposing halls met. The tables in the dining area and yellow counter tops in the kitchen cast shadows of their own in the quiet night. All was perfectly silent – which was typical at this time of night, when the Titans usually retreated to their rooms.
However, every now and again, a quiet metallic thumping, only noticeable to the most astute of ear, could be heard, interrupting the dead silence. As time passed by, the sound gradually... patiently traveled from the ceiling to the hallways. In the corridors outside the Titans' rooms, the sound continued on.
A dark figure slowly shuffled through the air ducts, pulling himself along with his arms in the tight space. In the pitch darkness, the image of a grin on his mask was all but invisible. Every so often, his reptilian tail would strike the metal interior of the ducts, causing a soft thump. It was these moments that Zoka took to slow down and listen carefully to make sure he had remained undetected. He followed a scent he recognized, his intention to carry out his plan in a silent and efficient manner. No need to alert the Tamaranean's friends; they were not targets... they were not even factored in.
Coming to a stop over a grate in the ducts, Zoka inhaled sharply through his nose, finding the scent to be a bit stronger in this area. Looking down, he peered through the horizontal blinds in the grate only to see darkness. Reaching up, he tapped at the side of his head and activated his mask's heat sensors, which caused the eye holes on his faceplate to glow red. Though only strong enough to see through the grate, his sensors showed no heat signs, even near the bed in the immaculate room.
Grunting under his breath, Zoka looked away from the grate and moved along, feeling the scent become stronger as he progressed. Further down the duct, the smiling assassin came to a halt as he heard the sleeping breaths of a female. The sound became more pronounced as he approached a grate in the duct. Looking down beyond the grate, Zoka took notice of a presence in the room below. Described through his sensors as a bit of red and yellow in an otherwise blue area, he could see his target under the blankets of a large, circular bed. The sound of breathing was clearly coming from that position, and the Tamaranean scent was even stronger. Unmistakable.
Deactivating his mask's heat sensors, Zoka focused on the grate. There was a bolt on each of its four corners. Knowing his mission would soon be complete, Zoka carefully removed each of the bolts with his sharp fingers and set them aside in the duct. As quietly as he could, he pushed down at the grate until it came loose, about to fall onto the floor. Realizing his mistake, Zoka reached out fast and caught the grate. Pulling it back into the duct, he set the piece of metal further ahead with the bolts. Slowly, he took hold of the opening in the duct and lowered himself into the room, landing silently on the floor beside the bed.
Zoka could see nothing in the dark, the room's drapes shut tight, but the sound and scent were enough to identify his target's position. Moving closer to the bed, he slowly extended a blade from his right wristband. Making no sound, he lifted his arm up high.
'No interruptions,' he thought, quickly slashing his arm downward. The force of his attack shattered the bed into two pieces, after which a warm liquid splashed back up at him. The breathing had come to a stop. However... something didn't seem quite right.
"It slices," came a boisterous male voice from the shadows.
"It dices," added a younger, higher voice.
Suddenly, the room's bright lights switched on all at once, causing Zoka to guard himself as he turned around to face the voices. "But it's none too sharp, now, is it?" said Cyborg, grinning widely as he stood by the door, a hand pressed against the light switch.
Eyes widening, Zoka looked at the mechanical human's side of the room to see three others accompanying him, lining the wall to his right. The caped child stared at him through furious masked eyes. The green one, hands behind his back, had an extremely amused expression. And the one in the blue cloak simply stared forward, eyes visible behind the shadow of her hood.
Zoka grunted, looking over his shoulder to examine the bed. He growled furiously as his eyes caught sight of it. Sitting between the sections of shattered bed, in a puddle of water, were many pieces of multicolored plastic. Beside the mess was a mechanical device which appeared broken, soaked by the water. Breathing angrily, he turned around to face the Titans, only to find their expressions unchanged.
"Y'know... it's amazing what you can do with a voice recording and a bunch of hot water balloons," said Cyborg, taking his hand away from the switch to aim it at Zoka in cannon form.
Removing his hands from behind his back, Beast Boy tossed a yellow water balloon up and caught it. "And you wanted me to throw them out," he said, leaning toward Raven with a grin. The empath rolled her eyes in response. Chuckling, Beast Boy pulled his arm back and hurled the balloon at Zoka, where it popped against the creature's face. Zoka could be heard constantly muttering under his mask with indistinct grievances as he glared, unmoving, letting the plastic and water slide down his face.
Stepping forward, Robin extended his staff and let a small smirk show on his face. "I'd say 'we were expecting you'..." he started, leaning forward to get a better look at Zoka, "but you've probably figured that out by now."
- - - - - -
Several lights and monitors illuminated an otherwise dark room with their multicolored glow. The room was a simple, box-like area, with computer panels lining three of its walls, and a strong, reinforced door taking up its fourth. Well hidden and highly protected, the security room was where all of the tower's camera feeds could be viewed across the various monitor screens that lined the forward wall.
Sitting at the main computer console's chair, Starfire stared forward at one of the screens, watching warily as a fight spilled out from her room and into the tower halls. As advised by the others, she stayed in place to remain safe. However, the more she saw, the more she felt like leaving to help them.
Keeping a close eye on the events unfolding before her, Starfire thought back to the fight in the park. They had nearly been defeated... by a single opponent. How could they hope to stop him now?
'Long have we awaited this day. Does it think us so foolish that we would not prepare?' Zoka's words ran through Starfire's thoughts. 'Four years planning...' she repeated his speech in her mind.Eyes widening, Starfire stood up and turned to face the security room's heavy door.
- - - - - -
A loud explosion erupted in the hall beyond the main doors in the common room; as a result, its two sliding pieces were sent flying across the floor and crashing into the couch. Cyborg lowered his cannon as he looked out through the newly opened doorway at the clearing smoke beside the couch. The others stood just behind him, watching cautiously as well. As the smoke dissipated, it revealed Zoka, bringing himself to his feet atop one of the dented pieces of metal. He glared off toward the Titans.
"Where is it?" Zoka demanded loudly, referring to Starfire. "We must complete our mission. This does not concern foolish, Terran children," he said as the Titans approached him.
"Trying to assassinate our Starfire?" questioned Cyborg as he and the others came to a stop at a safe distance. "Yeah, that concerns us a little," he said, charging up his cannon once again.
"They do not need to die as well. Had we carried out our mission without interruption--" Zoka stopped to slash at an object suddenly thrown his way. Cut into two pieces, Robin's birdarang detonated in midair, sending Zoka tumbling backward over the couch. Fallen on his stomach, about to stand up, he found himself grasped by the end of his tail. He looked back to see Robin as the culprit.
"You're about to get a lot more than interrupted," said Robin with a glare, pulling backward, managing to lift the lightweight Zoka from the ground. Turning in place, he began to swing his enemy around by the tail, while the others simply watched in wide-eyed astonishment. With a growl, Robin finally released Zoka, sending him in the direction of the farthest window pane on the right.
Seeing the window coming up, Zoka rotated himself in the air and pointed his feet directly at the glass. In an instant, the masked man shattered the window pane, flying outward through the hole he created. Chuckling as he passed through the window, Zoka reached out his hands and took hold of the vertical separator between the adjacent panes, using it to redirect himself toward the tower. Crashing through the center window, Zoka entered the common room once again, feet first, with a target chosen.
Guarding himself from the inward-flying glass, Robin was too preoccupied to guard the incoming attack. As soon as he dropped his cape, he found his face met by Zoka's boots. Robin tumbled back over the couch, slowly recovering as the others came to help.
"We will rend this building to the ground if we must," said Zoka, removing an object from his belt as Cyborg stepped forward with his weapon ready. Whipping his arm through the air, Zoka launched a small circular object across the room. Almost like talons, four sharp objects extended from the rim of the object, latching themselves onto the barrel of Cyborg's cannon.
"What the--" said Cyborg, stopping as he watched strings of electricity surge about on his arm. Unsure of what would happen, Cyborg quickly stepped aside, deciding to let the others handle the lizard while he focused on removing the foreign object. He knelt down behind the couch where Robin was recovering. Cyborg watched from the corner of his eye as Zoka moved toward Beast Boy – who had gone to defend the hallway threshold by the kitchen.
"No way. You're not getting in there!" said Beast Boy, guarding the hall entrance with his arms spread out. Morphing into a gorilla, he took off toward Zoka with a roar. Reaching out, he attempted to grasp his enemy, but found the lizard too quick for his heavy form.
Zoka easily dodged, ducking under Beast Boy's arms and moving around to his back. With a high kick to the left, he sent Beast Boy flying toward the kitchen counters, reverting back to human form. Though the boy was out of the way, now resting against the outside of the counter, Zoka continued after him.
Massaging his forehead, Beast Boy opened his eyes to see one of Zoka's blades coming down at him from the front. Blocking with his arms, he watched it cut into the counter at his right. Rolling to the left, Beast Boy found himself blocked by the other blade, which Zoka quickly sliced into the counter. The changeling began to morph, deciding to turn into a small animal to escape this predicament. However, before Beast Boy had a chance to change completely, Zoka snaked his tail forward and wrapped it around the boy's neck.
"We have unfinished dealings with this one," said Zoka in a creepy tone, bringing his face up close to the choking Beast Boy. Suddenly, though, Zoka released Beast Boy's neck as something more urgent came to his attention. A knife, propelled at high speed from the kitchen... had implanted itself in the front of his mask, avoiding his face by minuscule distance. He looked forward to see the telekinetic one acquiring several new weapons from the various drawers in the kitchen with her powers.
"Step away from the imp," said Raven, turning as many pointed objects as she could to face Zoka. Beast Boy's facial expression showed he was both appreciative... and insulted.
In a manner quite different from his attitude so far, Zoka's eyes widened. Quickly, he pulled his blades from the counter and leaped back as the entire kitchen's arsenal came flying his way. Dodging all the sharp objects – though being struck by the blunt ones – Zoka took refuge behind one of the tables in the dining area and plucked the kitchen knife from the front of his mask, tossing it aside on the ground.
'They are becoming a greater problem than anticipated...' thought Zoka, scanning the Titans in the room around him. All were now closing in on his location. Reaching to his belt, Zoka removed a spherical metal object from the front compartment and pressed a button on its surface; a red light on the device began to blink. Narrowing his eyes, he stood up to face the Titans, concealing the object from sight. Leaping over the table, he positioned himself near the center of the room. Oddly enough, the Titans all came to a stop, seeming to stare through him at something. Zoka peered over his shoulder to see, in the main doorway, his target standing in plain sight.
"Starfire," started Raven, more than a little surprised at this turn of events, "what are you--"
"I could not let you fight him alone. He is here for me..." said Starfire, looking down toward Zoka, whose eyes had already begun to dig into her. She didn't allow his stare to affect her, keeping her brave expression steady. "If anything were to happen, I would rather it happen while I am here to help."
"But, Star..." Robin trailed off, looking across the room in a distressed manner. "Don't worry about us! You've got to get out of here. We'll handle him."
"Yes, we will," said Starfire, starting to move down the steps. "He came here prepared to fight me alone. He was not expecting 'us'."
Hearing Starfire's words, the others looked toward Zoka and suddenly saw him in a slightly different light. The assassin had been prepared for a one-on-one battle, but found himself facing a team instead... it explained why he had retreated in the park. He was afraid.
"That is why you attempted a stealth attack, is it not?" questioned Starfire. Zoka was already showing signs of distress, looking around himself frantically, his body language saying more than his hidden facial expression ever could. "You knew you could not defeat us as a whole, so you tried to avoid my friends at all costs. Together, we are too strong for you." Starfire looked forward through sure eyes.
Growling behind his mask, Zoka turned to fully face Starfire. "A problem we mean to rectify..." he started, displaying the spherical device he held, the sight of which caused Starfire's eyes to widen, "right now!" Spinning around, Zoka hurled the object in Cyborg and Robin's direction. Along its course, the device emitted a quick, continuous beeping sound.
Though the device was surely alien in origin... the Titans could easily understand what it was. Both Beast Boy and Raven were too far from the action to do anything, thinking whatever they could try would either be too late... or prematurely destructive. Starfire stood in place, leaning forward, about to fly off toward the object, planning to snatch it and take it to a safe distance outside the tower; however, seeing a recognizable look on Robin's face, she halted, hoping he had come up with a plan. All this took place in less than a second.
Watching carefully, Robin focused on the wayward sphere as time seemed to slow down around him. Already halfway across the room, its beeping became more frequent as it approached. Robin swallowed hard, finding himself nearly frozen in place, gripping his staff tightly. Acting on instinct, the Boy Wonder ducked low and rolled forward as the bomb came close enough. Now on the other side of the device, he quickly swung his staff through the air and struck the object, increasing its velocity.
Looking surprised as they creaked their necks to face each other, Robin and Cyborg immediately rolled away as the blinking metal sphere made its way out through the broken window. Suddenly, a blinding flash of light scorched the area as the object detonated loudly. Each Titan ducked low, guarding themselves from the explosion and sudden luminosity.
As a sound of rushing air in the tower became more prominent, the bright light slowly began to fade away. Vision returning to them, the Titans gave off a collective gasp, each witnessing the result of the explosion. Part of an immense, perfect sphere had been cut away from the tower, completely obliterating the windows... and most everything else on that side of the room, including part of the sofa. Wind from the outside now rushed freely into the tower, a view of the night sky, bay, and the floor below the common room now visible through the vast, gaping wound.
Finding themselves standing right at the fringe of the damage, Robin and Cyborg quickly stepped back, both feeling cold sweat on their foreheads.
"No..." growled Zoka bitterly, seeing the two had survived.
Gaping at the hole as his shock gradually wore off, Cyborg began to clench his teeth and fists tightly. "That's it..." he started, slowly turning around, shoulders tightened. "That's the last... and I mean LAST time anyone..." Cyborg paused for a moment, sending a murderous glare Zoka's way, "ever takes a chunk outta MY TOWER!" he shouted, motioning a hand at the disaster. Cannon freed of any foreign objects, the robotic Titan aimed his arm at Zoka once again.
Too frustrated to have paid any attention to what Cyborg had said, Zoka began to turn around. Even if it meant his own demise... he would complete his mission. However, one Titan had already decided to take tactical advantage of the previous explosive distraction. Before he could turn around fully, Zoka was met by the horn of a charging green rhino.
Vision flashing white from the impact, Zoka was propelled across the room in a daze toward Cyborg, who immediately took decisive action. Stepping aside, Cyborg faced the opposite wall and held his cannon forward, waiting for Zoka to enter his sights. Robin responded by retreating several steps to avoid the blast – as well as prepare for his part in the chain. As soon as the lizard entered his view, Cyborg fired off a sonic burst. Struck in the back by the blast, Zoka grunted as his direction was shifted in midair; he continued his flight, now heading toward Robin.
Narrowing his masked eyes, Robin wasted no time and tossed his staff aside as the reptilian flew his way. He felt like inflicting some damage in a more personal manner. Ducking low, Robin swept his leg vertically through the air to his left, striking Zoka across the face and sending him in an arc toward the kitchen.
Seeing her turn had arrived, Raven held up a hand, focusing her energy on the stunned, airborne opponent. She felt no need to delay things by being flashy. As soon as Zoka was engulfed in her dark force, Raven whipped her hand to the left, sending him toward Starfire in an instant.
Seeing Zoka coming her way, face-first, Starfire focused energy in the palm of her right hand. Examining him closely, she knew of one point on the enemy that surely wouldn't absorb a starbolt. Eyes glowing, she pulled her arm back, waiting for the right moment to strike. Deciding the critical distance was met, Starfire threw her open palm forward, slamming it directly into Zoka's mask. Just as she had predicted, the mask could not absorb the energy. In a bright green explosion, Zoka was sent backward into the center of the room, where he rolled across the floor, the front of his mask leaving a trail of smoke behind.
Zoka released labored breaths as he pushed against the ground with his hands, barely managing to lift himself with his shaky, weakened arms. The front of his mask had gained a clearly visible crack, which stretched diagonally across its surface, passing between the eye holes. "Our... years of planning..." he groaned, eyes squinting as he looked through blurry vision at the children encircling him. "Our training... waiting for this day... preparing for every possible encounter... It should not have ended like this." Finally giving up, Zoka let out a single breath and collapsed on the floor with a thud.
"You can't win 'em all," said Cyborg, still holding his cannon forward cautiously, looking down at the defeated creature. Seeing no more movement from the lizard, he sighed in relief and relinquished his aim.
Relaxing their fighting stances, the Titans all gathered around the center of the room, where Zoka remained, sprawled out like a swatted insect. All simply looked down at him, their many questions still unanswered.
Kneeling down to examine the fallen enemy, Beast Boy's mind dwelt on the mysterious man's features for a moment. "Well... he's kinda skinny for a..." he began, scratching the back of his head, looking toward Starfire inquisitively, "Gordanian?" he questioned.
- - -
Act Four: Setting Off
Zoka took in a sharp breath and forced his eyes open. A blinding white light flooded his vision, causing the lizard to squint. Attempting to move, he found his arms, legs, and tail constricted as he sat forward in a chair. What little he could see revealed to him that his hands were held in place at the wrists against a metal tabletop by two thick braces. He could feel his tail and feet were constricted by similar implements. Even more alarming to him... his weapons were missing; his belt, his wristbands, everything. The only relief he found was in the fact that his mask had remained in place.
Looking up from the table, Zoka saw two silhouettes – a large and small one – beyond the intense light from above. They whispered indistinctly, sounding as though they had taken notice of his awakening. The large one stepped forward into the light, followed by the other. Upon sight of the two children, the assassin now knew he had been taken captive... his main mission effectively failed.
Cyborg dropped several silvery metal objects onto the table. Zoka's belt and wristbands shimmered under the light in the interrogation room. "Have a nice nap?" questioned Cyborg, leaning forward over the table to look Zoka in the eyes. The assassin made no response.
Robin stood to the robotic Titan's left, no clear expression on his face, arms crossed strongly about his chest. For a moment, he glanced over his shoulder to the room's two-way mirror, on the other side of which were Starfire, Raven, and Beast Boy. He couldn't see the others with the intense light on his side of the room reflecting off the mirror, but he gave them the signal that Zoka had woken up. Turning back to the table, he decided to let Cyborg do most of the talking, knowing himself to get... somewhat worked up when enemies affected him on a personal level such as this.
On the other side of the mirror, in a much darker area, Starfire, Raven, and Beast Boy stood side by side in front of the glass, watching intently as Cyborg and Robin proceeded with the interrogation. They were each eager to know more about Zoka's so-called 'mission', Starfire especially. With Cyborg and Robin's combined interrogation tactics... they were sure they would know soon enough.
Cyborg noticed Zoka eyeing the objects he had placed on the table. Reaching out, Cyborg patted them with a hand. "Some impressive stuff here," he started, remembering his examination of the belt; not since Robin's equipment had he seen so many things stored away in such a small amount of space. "Mind telling me where a guy like you gets a hold of tech like this? Seems too high-end for you. Heck, I couldn't figure out what half of it was supposed to do."
Zoka seemed disturbingly unaffected by his predicament, merely looking up at Cyborg from his seat. "Return them to us and we will show you," he said defiantly, clenching his fists and sitting up as far as he could.
"Not in a cooperative mood?" responded Cyborg, taking his hand away from the table and standing up straight. "We've got an expert here who can help us trace this stuff back to its source. So whether you're in a talking mood or not... we'll find out," he finished seriously.
This seemed to get Zoka's attention, the lizard-like man turning his head to the left for a moment. Before long, he looked back, switching his attention to Robin. "And what of this one?" he questioned. "Still bitter that we scarred its face?"
Robin chuckled once through his nose, keeping a sedated expression. Stepping further into the light, he placed both hands on the table and looked at Zoka. "Believe me... if this had ended up on anyone else, you'd be in far worse condition right now," he threatened, pointing to the small slash mark still on his cheek.
Cyborg moved to Zoka's side and leaned forward as the staring contest continued. "Robin here doesn't like it when someone tries to assassinate his girl," he spoke quietly, hoping to intimidate the lizard with his next words. "He's already on the edge. If you push him further, I can't be held responsible for what he does," he warned, standing up and shrugging as he stepped out of the light and rested his back against the wall. "It'd be smart to answer his questions."
Robin felt like shaking his head... Cyborg had seen way too many cop movies. Stifling his reaction, he backed away from the table and continued to stare down the alien. "We're going to give you one chance to cooperate..." said Robin, crossing his arms. "Who sent you? And why are you after Starfire?" he questioned.
Zoka made no movement, simply staring out through his grinning mask. "...Privileged information," he responded dryly after a moment.
Robin let out an exasperated sigh and looked to his right... pausing to think about how he could get the information out of the guy without going too far. He remembered Starfire explaining what she could about Zoka. He was a Gordanian... but one who had been raised outside of the homeworld, trained in space as an assassin. His suit, though Starfire did not recognize its design, appeared to imply that he had developed an intolerance to certain atmospheric pressures and compositions. Though the other Gordanians who had visited Earth were not in need of such devices, this one was. It was a good place to start when looking for valid threats.
"Starfire..." called Robin, looking over his shoulder to the mirror. "Does he need the suit to survive?" he asked, waiting as a long silence followed.
"No, he does not," Starfire's voice sounded over the speakers.
Robin seemed satisfied with the answer, moving away from the table and slowly walking around to Zoka's side. Seeing this, the alien began to struggle, writhing in his chair to no avail. As Robin came to his side, Zoka, panicking a little more, turned to look at Cyborg.
"You think I care?" asked Cyborg, chuckling under his breath. "Hate to break it to ya, but there ain't no 'good cop' here, man."
Coming to a stop, Robin examined the back of Zoka's suit. A short length of metal tubing extended from the back of the mask and plugged into a port between the shoulders. As Zoka continued to thrash about in his chair, Robin reached out and took hold of the tube.
"Wait!" shouted Zoka, scratching his claws against the table to get Robin's attention as he felt the tube being tugged at.
Still keeping hold of the tube, Robin glared at Zoka from the side. "Tell us why you came here!" he shouted, threateningly pulling at the lifeline.
Glaring angrily, Zoka looked forward at the mirror. "...Several years ago, the Troq was handed over as a peace treaty between our people," he began, speaking as though he knew Starfire was standing just beyond the glass. "But it did not deal well with its place in life, did it? It tried to escape."
Generally confused by this information, Raven, who stood at Starfire's right, turned to look at her friend. The Tamaranean's eyes were wide with recognition. She obviously knew just what Zoka was talking about... and was now piecing things together in her mind. Raven turned back to the glass and eyed the alien on the other side with curiosity. The time when she had switched bodies with Starfire suddenly came to mind. Even though she and Starfire had shared much information about their lives with each other... Raven had no knowledge of the things Zoka spoke of. But then... Raven knew she hadn't exactly shared everything either on that day. Apparently, even Starfire had skeletons in her closet.
"We could not have that. There would be no peace without a means to maintain it," Zoka continued, still staring off at the mirror. "Our General Trogar followed and captured it in this system... but was defeated, yes. Its people had gone back on their word... Unforgivable. We are its punishment. We are Citadel. And Citadel demands retribution!" he shouted, sitting up as far as he could.
"No..." Starfire began to back away from the glass, trembling slightly. Zoka seemed to be staring directly at her.
"If not in the end of this one's life, retribution will come in another form. We failed in our mission... this information has reached our system by now. If we cannot destroy it, its entire planet will take its place, its people no longer a threat. That is our judgment," he spoke in a frighteningly serious manner. "It is only a matter of hours now. Vega will be witness to a destruction not seen in a thousand years!" he shouted before entering into low laughter. "Did it think it could hide? Did it think we would simply forget what was done?"
Robin cringed at the words which had escaped the creature's mouth. But it didn't take long for his shock to turn into anger. Gripping the tube tightly, he quickly tore it from the back of Zoka's mask, tossing it aside to the ground. As he did this, pressurized air began to pour from the hole, flying out in a thick white fog. Suddenly gasping wildly for breath, Zoka began to make the only major movement he could... slamming his face against the table as he wheezed.
"Get used to it," said Robin, getting his face up close to Zoka, who continued to thrash about, creating dents in the table as he continuously threw the front of his mask at it. "You'll be breathing that air for a long time."
- - - - - -
"Ugh," coughed Zoka, falling flat on the asphalt, arms, legs, and tail restrained tightly by specialized cuffs. Like a fish torn from the water and tossed to the dirt, he weakly gasped for air as he looked around at his current location. The moon loomed above him in the clear night. To his left was a large facility with high stone walls, and a thick metal gate which he currently rested in front of. To his right... the Titans, suspended in the air by the telekinetic one's powers.
Zoka had been taken to the high-security prison, which resided near a patch of forest, safely outside the city limits.
From within Raven's bubble of dark energy, the Titans each looked down at Zoka as several prison guards scrambled to the gate to apprehend him. He certainly did look weakened now... but they had warned the prison to be extra cautious with him anyway.
"Say hi to Cinderblock for us," said Beast Boy, making light of the situation with a serious tone.
Zoka used what little strength he had to glare bitterly as the Titans floated away to the west. However, he quickly cringed as he heard the gate beside him slowly sliding open, thick metal grinding against the ground. Weapons being removed from their holsters could be heard as well.
Five fully armored guards stepped out into the open... gasping in surprise at the large creature on the ground. One of the officers, presumably the squad leader, stepped forward to examine Zoka closer. The creature's lizard-like features were the subject of his awestruck attention.
"When I heard the term 'illegal alien'... this is not what I envisioned."
- - - - - -
"This is terrible," said Starfire as Raven dropped everyone off on the roof of Titans Tower. "If I am to believe what he has said..." she trailed off, trying to hold back her despair at the thought presented to her. She stepped away from the others and looked to them helplessly.
"...What do you mean?" Beast Boy chimed in, stepping forward with a bit of hope in his eyes. "It hasn't happened yet. There's still time, so we can just get in the T-Ship and--"
"We appreciate the enthusiasm, but..." started Raven, hanging her head forward a bit, "Tamaran is over twenty-five light years away... it would take more than a few hours to get there."
Robin remained silent; for once, he had nothing to say... nothing he could say. Starfire, the one person in the world he always wanted to protect, would lose her home... the most important thing to her. And there was nothing conceivable they could do about it. Robin looked across the rooftop at Starfire... He had never seen her in such a state of sadness. He wanted to comfort her... but he felt like he would only be making things worse.
Cyborg examined each of his friends. Everyone was looking perfectly at the ground, their eyes blank and void of any hope. With a small smile forming on his face, he figured this was as good a time as any to tell them.
"Guys... don't give up just yet."
- - - - - -
A single, collective gasp echoed in the immense, open room as the Titans gazed upon the object before them. All eyes were wide, most with astonishment, and a pair with pride. Necks tilted back to take in the full scene, Cyborg's teammates were awe-struck, to say the least.
"When did..." started Robin, trailing off as he looked at the practically building-sized object.
"She's been my project ever since we went to Tamaran the first time. Sorry for keeping it a secret all this time. I wanted to surprise you guys with it," said Cyborg, grinning as he looked up at his creation. "Ladies and gentlemen... the T-Ship," he said, motioning a hand up at the immense vehicle.
The cavernous metal room was located directly under the island's outdoor training course. Until now, the other Titans were completely unaware of its existence. Hugging the four walls was a strip of metal flooring, the railing of which looked out upon the T-Ship and its supporting platform. Above, the ceiling seemed to be split lengthwise into two separate parts.
The T-Ship itself was a sight to behold. With a shining blue and silver outer shell, its sleek, aerodynamic form nearly filled the entire room, illuminated by the lights that lined the floor. The vehicle's short, glider-like wings loomed over the outer platform, holding up a pair of large, fighter jet style thrusters at their ends. At its aft was a large, bulbous looking engine... just looking at it, the Titans could only guess the immense amount of speed it could kick out. Windows were located at the front of the ship, where Cyborg would most likely be piloting; the Titans also noticed windows in an area just over the engine. The Titans saw it as reminiscent of a NASA spacecraft... but much... cooler.
"Sweet!" said Beast Boy, eyes sparkling with wonderment. Suddenly, his expression faltered as he thought about the vehicle's name. "Wait... T-Ship?" he questioned, leaning over to Cyborg. "Don't we already have one of those?"
Cyborg leaned over to Beast Boy in response. "Actually, that was just the T-Sub with a pair of escape rockets strapped to it. It wasn't really designed for space flight, or even anything above the water," he explained, whispering behind his hand so as not to disturb the others.
"This will get us to Tamaran in time?" questioned Starfire hopefully.
Cyborg nodded happily, chuckling a little. "With time to spare," he replied confidently. "Remember when Starfire told us all about the physics of space travel?"
"Yes," came a collective reply: three exasperated voices and a single elated one.
"Well, I took what she said, applied it to this ship, and came across a new engine design which can reduce travel time exponentially. We should even have time to pack," he explained proudly. Cyborg looked over to Starfire, seeing she still seemed a little worried. Wanting to be as reassuring as he could, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and looked back to the ship with everyone.
"Don't worry, Star. We got your back."
- - - End Episode One - - -
Author's Note: I'm loving this :). I haven't felt this good about a fic since 10 Leisurely Days. Nor have I had one so planned out since then. Forget Me Not was sort of a 'write-as-you-go' fic, which is okay, but I ended up feeling like I could have done a lot more with it.
This originally started as a fan comic for my Deviant Art gallery, but I'm glad I decided to do it this way, because I think it could be my biggest fic yet. It's a story I really want to tell, and now I'm convinced that this is the best format for it.
I was a little rusty with writing after taking such a lengthy break, which is why it took me so long to get this first episode out. Hehe, I'm sure I'll get back into the swing of things eventually, though XD. Still, this format (writing chapters in acts, episode style) has given me a lot more freedom with the story, allowing me to try a lot of different things. I'm looking forward to the future episodes, whose stories will be able to take advantage of this as well.
Also, I should mention that this will be probably be my last Titans fic. I know I spoke of a sequel to TLD, but I think it's better if I left it alone; I don't want to ruin my most successful fic by making a follow-up that doesn't compare to the first. I also don't want to run this fandom into the ground. If I carried on any longer with it, I fear my writing will start to lose its quality.
The truth is, I feel like I'm slowly growing apart from writing Teen Titans stuff. I'm no longer the overly enthusiastic, easily inspired kid I used to be when this started.
So, anyway... I hope I can bring you something worthwhile as my farewell Titans fic. I may come back to writing fics if my other current obsessions inspire me so (Avatar or Naruto).
Next Episode Preview: Starfire arrives on Tamaran with the Titans, but she may be in for the worst welcome home imaginable. A strange message tells of disaster on the horizon, but is there any truth to it? "Episode Two: Home".
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https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3354655/1/Titans-Forever
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<urn:uuid:998bb335-6dd8-4bae-bc8e-fe693eb49f90>
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Title: Princess and the Dragon
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Summary: Draco enjoyed the chase and would search London high and low for his Princess.
Warnings: Cross-dressing, D/s, slight SM, language.
Author's notes: Thanks to my betas KF and megyal and lbewarethesmirk . You are all wonderfully helpful and inspiring! Thanks for the quick turn around and wonderful suggestions. EWE. Written for hpwintersmut . This story has a rough history. It is my very first cross-dressing, D/s kind of work and then my original recipient dropped out and the poor story was floating in the ether, then I was assigned someone new, so I tried to mod it for that person, but that fell through as well. So this story now sits as it is after a few mods.
Also note that this is an edited version. Unedited versions fount on my LJ site.
Original request: First-time (with each other), cross-dressing, D/s, rimming, some anger and perhaps a bit of hitting.
"Hey there, honey; buy ya a drink?"
Bright green eyes turned to look over at the American bloke who'd stumbled into the bar. He leaned forward and grinned, showing perfectly straight teeth and a face covered in rough stubble. The man was obviously a tourist: he wore an "I Love London" t-shirt and a pin that stated that one should "Mind the Gap."
"Sure," came the quiet voice. The American beamed like he'd unexpectedly won the jackpot.
"Hey there," the man called out to the bartender, "another Stella and," the man turned back to his prize, "What're ya having?" he asked.
"Whisky sour."
"And a whisky sour, please," he called out.
He landed sharply on the neighboring stool and brushed his brown hair out of his eyes. "I've been in London for a week, and I just love it here."
"Really? How long are you here?" The American grinned with pleasure at the inquiry.
"Just another few days. Me and my buddies--we're from California--we just up and decided to visit London. Never been to England before. It's great. Kinda spontaneous too. Dave, his girlfriend just dumped him. I'm Stephen, by the way." He offered his hand and they shook.
"Nice name."
"I think so," Lily said warmly.
Stephen continued to talk about himself as the drinks slowly disappeared. His traveling hands covered Lily's each time he finished a story as if assuring himself she was really there. Lily commented once or twice, but had few words to say and seemed content to just listen to the American talk about his home and his job. Stephen's constant petting and touches were gently brushed aside, but he didn't seem to take the hint.
Finally, after Stephen finished his second drink—Lily was still sipping on that first whisky sour—another man approached him, and with an odd look at Lily, leaned close and whispered something in Stephen's ear.
"What!" he burst out.
Lily sighed. Here it was.
The man's eyes ran up and down Lily's body then rested on her throat. Her Adam's apple. No, his Adam's apple. "You're a man?" he asked, sounding more than a little disappointed.
Lily shrugged; it wasn't like Stephen was his type either. "Does it matter?"
"Yeah! Of course! I thought I was chatting up some gorgeous Brit, but I was hitting on a dude!" Lily flinched and then rose to leave. The bartender caught Lily's eye and the silent communication offered enough assurance that he sat again.
"Dude, let's just go," said the new arrival, tugging on his friend's arm.
"Yeah, definitely. And Lily, or whatever your name is, that's really crappy. Hanging out here, leading guys on. Fucked up."
Stephen stood up and walked away.
Lily, who wasn't really Lily, looked into the mirrored backing of the bar and caught his own eyes floating amongst the back sides of countless liquor bottles; green and full of a hollow loneliness. He'd gotten quite good at the feminine disguise, wrapped up in soft silks and an even softer nature, but his Adam's apple was left noticeable for those who knew what to look for. Not that he would have gone home with that guy anyway. Getting his arse kicked once was a valuable lesson, so he became very sure of his bloke before he ever made a move.
Needless to say, he'd never been a one-night stand kind of cross-dresser, and to his own frustration he had been alone for a very long time.
He examined his eyes in the mirror. His eyes. He had left his eyes the same: bright green and full of something pure from his mother—a sense of what's right and a willingness to follow through with hard choices. His hair was still black, a symbol of his brave father. But that scar, only a shadow now that Voldemort was gone, he buried beneath a layer of foundation, burying that reminder of everything that had broken within him the day he saved the world.
Harry walked down the street towards the Ministry of Magic, dodging in between other early morning commuters. The air had a harsh chill this close to the New Year. In one gloved hand he carried a double tall latte while theLondon Times was clutched in the other. He found it very important to keep apprised of the Muggle goings-on.
His mind wandered back to The Moon and Mars, something he tried very hard not to do when at work.
"Well," he mumbled to himself, "at least I'm not at work yet."
It had rained the night before and the air smelt clean, if you discounted the smoking tailpipes from the traffic jam to his right. The sky was a hundred different shades of gray; a thick layer of clouds covered the skyline as lower cotton puffs snagged onto some of the taller buildings. It was a typical London winter.
He found he couldn't take his mind off of The Moon and Mars, though it broke his usual strict 'separation of night life and normal life' rule. The American bloke had been nice, if a talker. And he'd been attractive, though obviously very conservative and totally oblivious. He grunted disdainfully. Who was he kidding; the guy was a complete idiot. Harry could do better. Plus, Harry didn't want to deal with someone that was going to be here today and disappear tomorrow.
The real bent bristle in his broom was that he knew he wasn't going to find the love of his life—however cheesy that sounded—at The Moon and Mars. He longed for someone who understood him and accepted his odd… requirements. But that was something he didn't like to dwell upon. He was who he was, nothing would change that.
The seedy bar haunted the end of London and apparently only drunk tourists frequented it. Harry often questioned why he continued to go there. There were probably more… open, friendly places he could go where the guys weren't going to freak out once he dropped skirt and his extra equipment was revealed.
He stepped across a puddle in the broken pavement and bumped into someone, muttering a quick apology.
Maybe he should find somewhere else to go…
Harry lifted his contemplative gaze from the ground and saw Hermione waving, crossing the street to meet him.
"Hey Hermione!" he said, waving in return. He waited at the corner and then they continued to walk down the pavement together.
"We missed you at Percy's. You should have seen Luna. She brought a few manoko. They were climbing all over her, but she didn't have a care about it." Hermione chuckled, shaking her head.
"Manoko?" Harry asked, half-listening, half-watching the gum riddled ground pass beneath his feet. A flock of pigeons flew by as they passed a park, cooing at the hopes of a handful of seed. They looked soggy and unhappy at the weather.
"Yes, don't you remember, Harry? The grant she got to study them for Hogwarts?" A moment of silence passed between the two. "Harry, are you even listening to me?" She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. He oofed in response.
"Of course. Sorry. I just don't remember." He didn't really remember much about his social life lately. Since he had so little of it, he thought the detail should have been etched into his memory. If Harry were honest with himself he would admit that he just didn't care.
"She'd discovered them in southern Italy during one of her 'walk-abouts.' They're pretty cute little things. Scaly, like a lizard, but round and floppy like a kitten. I bet they will be the new pet craze, assuming they'd be safe as pets and Luna wouldn't be affronted at the notion."
Harry grunted in shock. "I'm surprised you aren't affronted at the notion," Harry said.
"Why would I be?" she asked, her tone a little edgy.
"House-elves, goblins, centaurs…"
"Those are sentient beings, Harry, not some lower life form." Though Harry wasn't looking at her, he was certain she'd just rolled her eyes at him. "You would think after all your work redesigning the Ministry that you would at least have a grasp between the Beast Division and the Being Division."
"Yeah, yeah. I know. Sorry, my mind's just somewhere else," he rushed to derail a Hermione blow-up.
"So, where were you?" she asked.
"Huh?" he asked, caught off guard.
"Where were you Saturday, when we were all at Percy's? You said you would be there." She leveled her gaze on him and he could feel her noticing and cataloging his every reaction.
Harry sighed. Even after all these years, Hermione really hadn't changed much.
"Did you have a date?"
"Whaat?" Harry asked, drawing the word out as he searched for something quick to say. He turned a scandalized look on Hermione; she couldn't know about his extracurricular activities. Nobody could know. He had been so careful.
Someone walking close behind bumped into him as he lost his stride. "Sorry," the woman apologized as she brushed past him.
"'tsokay," he murmured as he and Hermione continued their walk.
"Well, it has been awhile, Harry. You can't still be pining over Ginny, can you?" she asked, her tone suggesting he still wore his first year set of snitch pajamas to bed at night. She seemed… disappointed.
"What? No! Of course not. We went our ways on good terms, you know that." He lifted his hands to shield off the next volley of questions.
"So, that isn't why you weren't at Percy's?" she asked again.
"No, I mean… No. I just didn't feel like it. I was tired from work and I just wanted to relax." He flinched at the defeated tone of his words and almost flinched again as he noticed Hermione registering his first flinch. She didn't need any more fodder for her ever needling interrogation.
"Harry," she stopped in the middle of the rush hour crowd--the flow effortlessly parted around her like the river around a stone--and touched his arm. Someone bumped into him again. Harry groaned internally. He'd failed in steering her away from her concerned mode. "Maybe you're working too hard. It's been five years. You've reformed the Ministry. It's done. There isn't much else you can do; now, don't you think it's time to step back and see if it can truly run on its own?"
"You don't think it can?" he asked in alarm. He'd put the last five years of his life into establishing an honest and stable form of government for the wizarding world. He had lost his childhood to abuse, his adolescence to Voldemort, and then the prime of his life to the ungrateful masses surrounding him. Sacrifice played a major supporting role in his life; he didn't want that sacrifice to be for naught.
"That isn't what I was saying, Harry. I think it can, and I think it will. There will always be obstacles, but we've set up a good system. But seriously, maybe it's time for a vacation. Get away. Have some fun." Her eyes were full of love and Harry swallowed against a lump in his throat.
Fun. What an odd concept, alien in its carefreeness.
"I can't. I've got this meeting with the French ambassador, and the Committee for Werewolf Rights is still being stubborn; I couldn't leave it right now." There was so much to do. Harry couldn't just leave it all. That would be irresponsible.
"Okay, fine," she huffed. "Just think about it. Eventually, you will explode if you don't give up this work, work, work lifestyle. I don't want to see you burn out like Neville did," she said and turned to once again join the flow.
"I won't, Hermione." They'd reached the Ministry's south entrance and walked through the pet shop to the hidden room lined with a battery of Floos. Screeches and caws filled the air as they passed the aviary. Harry stopped, fishing around in his pocket for some cheese, and fed his favorite mina bird. It nipped at his finger when it'd eaten Harry's entire offering. "Vicious bugger," he mumbled to the bird affectionately.
Hermione fed a small parrot a bit of fruit she'd had wrapped up in cellophane. "Are you available for lunch?" she asked, sounding resigned.
"Can't, I've got to finish the third quarter report on the Department of Mysteries redevelopment." He turned from the bird and stepped up to his Floo.
Hermione huffed. "Fine. Take care, Harry."
"Yeah, okay. Bye," he said to her back as she Flooed to her office. With his own sigh, he grabbed some Powder and called out his own address: "Assistant Minister's Office."
They had wanted him to be the Minister of Magic, but he had refused the position. Three times. After Harry had used his power to oust Scrimgeour--angering many people--Kingsley Shacklebolt was offered the position along with Harry. Harry eagerly stepped aside, soothing some officials' ire who were under the impression that Harry pushed for Scrimgeour's dismissal so that he could attain the position himself. Nobody seemed to accept that Harry never wanted to be Minster and never would.
Nothing could get done from the Minister's seat. Harry sat in the real cradle of power; where he could affect the government and get rid of the rampant potential for corruption that had infested the Ministry during Voldemort's short reign of power; that had existed since Fudge and probably even earlier, if he were to be honest with himself.
Here, as the Assistant, he could develop the government without having the people's eyes on him. His influence infiltrated every office, touched every law. From rooting out existing corruption to limiting red tape, he knew he'd formed a better governing body. He was the shadow lord of the Ministry.
However, it was constant and it was draining: day after day of meetings, always putting on his public face, always thinking ten years ahead. The deals, the late night planning sessions, the heavy burden that it might not work; it seemed to suck out his light, his humor, and his optimism. Sometimes, Harry thought, he should have just been a Quidditch star.
It drained him even as it invigorated his existence. Eventually, he knew, it would pull him apart, just like Hermione had diagnosed.
The meeting had lasted for four hours. And then he had another emergency session with the Magical Games section. At nine that evening he finally walked through his front door, exhausted.
Hermione always insisted that he needed a vacation, but a few weeks on the Riviera still meant returning to life most regular. It wasn't that he wasn't happy… it just seemed that something was lacking in his life. He had such control at work that Harry wished he could give that up, that he had someone to take care of him for a change.
Sometimes he just wanted to relinquish himself to the hands of another master.
That desire drove him to visit The Moon and Mars even later that night, secretly hoping that tonight he would find someone, anyone, who wouldn't mind that he's really a man and take him home and touch him and whisk away his burdens. If only for one night.
The bar was adorned in mistletoe and garland in celebration of the winter season and while everyone seemed jolly at the new decorations, Harry looked on in sadness. The holidays always made him feel lonelier.
Scolding himself for such thoughts, he took his seat and caught his reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar. Bacardi, Blavod, Glendarroch, and a pair of green eyes. He watched the crowd's reflection behind him as the patrons came and went, drinking his whisky and wishing he weren't alone.
As the night tumbled past its zenith, Harry paid his bill with a resigned air and gathered his things to leave the bar, annoyed with himself. He didn't mind the time it took him to get presentable--the make-up, the coifed hair, the charms-- he was just frustrated with another solitary night. Frustrated with his love life. Frustrated with life in general.
He gave the crowd, thinning now at this early hour, one last glance and his heart nearly stopped as the last person he ever expected to see at The Moon and Mars walked through the door.
It'd taken him a good forty-five minutes to shake off his tail and Draco ducked into the first bar he came across. Really, his father had become far too watchful of him since he was released from Azkaban and placed on house arrest, and Draco didn't even want to dwell on the hints and suggestions that he should take a wife and settle down. He knew the family patiently waited for him to find a wife to bear the next heir, but he wasn't about to just settle for anyone. Plus, he would have to find a wife who didn't mind him straying on a perpetual basis. Women just weren't his slice of cake.
The bar certainly catered to a lower class than he was used to, but at this moment Draco didn't care. Even with the stale scent of cigarette smoke and beer infiltrating the air, it was still the air of freedom and he breathed deep. The crowd certainly registered low on the scale of human dignity, but even through the mass of tourists and journeymen, he still had hopes of finding someone to help him relieve a little stress for the night.
He shook off the damp from his wool coat and hung it on a rack, then turned to survey his choices.
Unfortunately, after a thirty-second scan of the people seated at the tables, Draco began to wonder if he wouldn't be better off with his "bodyguards"—as his father liked to call them—until his eyes stopped on a beautiful woman sitting at the bar. Not only was the woman beautiful, and usually he didn't bother with women, but his attuned senses picked up magic: she was also a witch. But unlike any other witch he'd ever sensed.
As he studied her from the entry of the bar--her dark skirt, slim legs, long black hair--she grabbed her purse and twisted on the stool to leave. She looked up towards the exit and caught his eye. With a look of unmistakable recognition, she dropped back down on the stool in shock.
He didn't know how this woman knew him and he couldn't for the life of him place her. Maybe his name and face preceded him, as it often did. He was damned unforgettable.
Smiling as he descended the steps into the bar, he approached her and said: "Hello there, Princess."
"Umm, hello," she said with a soft voice. Almost too soft, and as Draco watched her swallow with what appeared to be nervousness, he noticed it. The Adam's apple, and then he looked at her arms, the breadth of her shoulders. This wasn't a woman, but a man in drag. Draco couldn't believe his luck and blessed The Moon and Mars.
The woman's… no, theman's hair was black as night and his eyes seemed to glow like a cat's, green and almost phosphorescent. Such beauty. Draco would win him.
"Would you please share a drink with me?" Draco asked, turning on his allure. He rarely bothered trying anymore, but something about this man just drew him in. Maybe it was the situation, being out on the run, trying to live up his youth before he'd be tied down by the balls. Maybe it was the magical flux that wafted off of him, something Draco has only recently learned to sense.
"I was actually just leaving," his Princess said to him, clutching his handbag with delicate hands.
Draco wondered why he glamoured so much of his appearance to be feminine but still left that Adam's apple, like he wished to announce to the world that he was male.
Well… maybe he was only announcing it to those who knew where to look.
Draco smiled even brighter.
"Hello, I'm Draco. And you are?" he asked ignoring the man's attempt to leave, determined to find out more about this person, as if he were some mystery totally devised for Draco's own entertainment.
"Lily," and he reached out to shake Draco's hand.
"Come here often?" he asked, realizing it sounded lame even as the words emerged.
Lily laughed, rolling his eyes. "Oh, come now. I'm sure you can come up with something better than that."
"You. Me. My apartment. A night you won't forget."
As Draco delivered his proposition, he leaned close enough that their noses nearly touched. Lily smelled soft and fruity, but Draco also caught the scent of something underlying that cried out masculinity.
Lily jerked back in shock. "Wha…?"
"I know you're a man," Draco whispered. "I like that. What do you say?"
"But…" Lily seemed to lose his train of thought as he examined Draco. Those piercingly eyes drilled into him and Draco suddenly felt uncomfortable. Did he know this man? But then the gaze softened and those lips smiled and Lily nodded at him. "Okay."
"Yeah?" Draco asked.
"Yeah. Shall we?" he asked. As Draco offered his arm, Lily stood and took it, and then they walked out of the building.
"Shall we Apparate?" Draco asked after they'd left The Moon and Mars.
The smaller frame of the man next to him stiffened again. "It appears," he said in those soft and sultry tones, "that I have no secrets from you… Draco."
Draco chuckled at Lily's words, though noted the odd way Lily pronounced his name, like he was almost … shy of it.
"Don't worry, Princess. I'll let you keep the rest of your mystery about you," he said as he nuzzled Lily's neck.
Lily blinked, then nodded and suddenly they swirled away to appear in Draco's manor. With alarming alacrity, Lily left his arms and seemed adamant about avoiding Draco's gaze. Then Lily began to wander through the parlor. Draco watched as he looked around, wondering what thoughts were going through his mind. The more and more he watched him study the manor's decorations—looking at portraits, examining antiques, watching the flicker of candle flames, reviewing book titles—something nudged at Draco telling him that this person was familiar. But try as he might, he couldn't untangle what it was about Lily. While he promised Lily he would let him keep his mystery, he secretly vowed to himself that he would figure this man out.
"This is quite the home you have here, Draco." Lily finally turned his back on the marble Floo to face Draco, arms hanging loosely at his sides. Waiting.
"Thank you," he said. "It's my ancestral home. Could I get you something to drink?" He began walking towards the bar.
"No, thank you," Lily said.
"Oh, well…" Draco usually used alcohol to relax himself and his partner. Going into this sober would be an entirely new experience. He redirected himself from the bar to the man standing there. The man dressed in three-inch heals with ruby red lips. Just looking at those lips stirred something within him.
"Hmm, can I kiss you then?" He stood directly before his Princess, running a finger up and down his arm.
Lily laughed, a pink flush spreading across his cheeks. "Yes, you may."
And he did.
Their lips met with all the tentative concern of two innocents, light and gentle. Then Draco wrapped his hands around the man's waist and pulled him close, pressing their bodies against each other, feeling the shaking anticipation in Lily's frame. The pressure of Lily's lips against his own sparked a fire in his belly, tingling its way down to his toes. He opened his eyes, for one quick glance at this beautiful person in his arms, and saw those eyes flutter, as if the tremor affected his every part. Draco enticed Lily's tongue to play, to tango with his own and with delight he saw that there was no fight for dominance, no struggle for who was going to lead this encounter. Lily was all his.
He pulled Lily even closer to him, pressing his groin to Lily's hip and felt an answering erection firm against his own thigh. Tearing his lips away, Draco leaned forward to taste Lily's smooth cheek, dropping kisses down his jaw, along his throat.
Merlin, Lily tasted divine.
"What do you like, Lily?" Draco asked, his words peppered between dainty pecks along that unmarred expanse of skin. Tiny goose bumps sprouted along his route of passage and he retraced ever inch of skin with his tongue.
"Everything," he said breathily, "anything… just…"
Before the words could escape Lily's lips, Draco swept in and kissed him again. Everything. Anything. The kiss demanded and Lily gave and Draco's nerves sparked with pure want.
Deft fingers trailed down Lily's shirt, swiftly plucking buttons and finally revealing skin. Lily's breasts were modest, but they were there, soft and generally in the way.
"I have one request," Lily said, one shoulder bare as the shirt slipped off of his frame.
Draco nodded in encouragement. He was offered everything and anything; he certainly could answer one request.
"Please keep the lights off, I don't want you to see me… what I really look like." Demurely, Lily looked away from Draco's face, trailing his eyes down Draco's front. Long lashes framed those brilliant eyes. Again, Draco felt a surge of familiarity.
He couldn't help but wonder if Lily had some terrible scarring or other disfigurement and that cooled his libido to think that he stood on the precipice of sex with an ugly person. But as he focused on the man in his arms, he felt that more important than appearance was that something between them. He felt drawn to this unknown man, to the mystery, to his magic. He couldn't name it or even fully describe it, but there was something here, and Draco was determined to uncover what this was all about.
"As you wish, Lily," Draco said, planting a kiss on his forehead. Lily flinched. Draco wondered at the reaction and tucked it away for further study; small things told long tales if you were willing to listen.
But now other things were far more central to his mental processes; he pushed off Lily's shirt, letting it fall to the ground and wrapped his arms around him, unsnapped the bra and let that too drop to the floor. He leaned back to look at the shorter, compact body, still holding on with one arm.
Draco chuckled and ran his fingers over the curves and planes of Lily's body. This was a man, he reminded himself.
"Do you want to keep a woman's form all evening?" he asked, hoping that wasn't the case.
Draco spread his hand out on Lily's belly, which felt firm yet soft and curvy as no man's could be. The candlelight seemed to mute everything, erase all harsh features. His fingers were pale and thin against Lily's darker skin and he knew that this man would go topless in the sun and Draco felt sure that he did so with pride and an arrogance that the Lily persona would never possess.
Who he was Draco swore he would discover.
"Would you prefer I wasn't?" Lily asked, sounding unsure, a little apprehensive.
"I prefer fucking men," he ground out through his lust, dragging his fingers into the soft flesh, leaving red lines in their wake. He didn't want breasts and a pussy, he wanted a firm cock and a tight arse and a willing lover.
"Remember your promise…" The words were more a question, more a tentative plea.
"Of course, now drop it. Be who you are." The words were harsh and edged with command and even as Lily tensed, eyes wide with a little fear, Draco knew he would comply.
Draco traced the edge of his jaw line--so feminine in this guise--with his finger, drew the nail of his pinky along those full lips. Sometimes a simple touch can reassure the most skittish of prey.
Lily pressed his hands on Draco's chest and gently pushed him away. Softly, Lily said, "Nox," and the candles puffed out, one by one, filling the air with their musky smoke.
Blind, Draco's heart beat desperately in excitement.
"Lily?" he asked the blackness.
"I'm here," said the deeper voice, as the definitely male body stepped up to him. He was taller than he was as Lily, though still shorter than Draco, and he was fit and defined, just like Draco had hoped.
"How shall I fuck you?" Draco asked, surprised at the hitch in his voice.
Lily released a groan, rich and so sexy that Draco's cock grew painfully full, making his jeans tight and pinching. That eager noise was the best offer Draco had in years and raw hunger raced straight to his cock. "To your knees," he demanded.
A nervous swallow echoed through the oddly quiet room and then Draco heard his Princess kneel to the floor. He reached down and grabbed Lily's head, forcing his face into Draco's groin. Another soft gasp urged him on. "Suck me," he ordered.
Questing fingers reached up and undid his pants, popping the button, slowly pulling down the zip. Draco's knees jerked when strong hands, a man's hands, pulled him out, aching and ready. It hurt it was so hard.
Draco released his clenched fingers, lightly laying his hand on the back of Lily's head as his Princess leaned forward to dance his tongue along his length and then slowly swallowed him whole. Lily was eager and skilled and Draco didn't think he would last long, so after endless pleasure, he desperately tugged him off.
"Stop. Stop," he begged, panting to catch his breath. The suction stopped and Draco slipped from Lily's soft lips.
At the speed of thought, Draco shucked his jeans and stared down into the darkness where he could see a vague shape. "On your hands and knees," and again Lily raced to answer Draco's demand. He stared at the shape, butt tilted into the air, head down on the ground with mid-length hair fanned around him like a dark halo; his mouth watered at the sight. He sank to the floor next to the wanton man and ran his hand through Lily's hair, then trailed his fingers along his spine, dancing across each vertebra. He could feel scars crossing the soft skin and wondered at Lily's past. Then Draco's fingers ran into the waistband of Lily's skirt and he bunched it up around his waist.
Lily wasn't wearing a stitch under his skirt. Draco chuckled and licked at his skin. He squatted behind his Princess and leaned over his back, pinning him to the floor. Nuzzling his neck, he sank his teeth in, not enough to break the skin, but enough to bruise and show the world that Lily was his and nobody else better lay to claim what he owned. Lily groaned at the bite, and pressed up into him. Draco ran his hand up Lily's side, feeling the muscles flex and tense, and then wove his fingers through that beautiful hair; he couldn't get enough of that hair. He gripped and pulled.
Lily released a licentious groan, the kind that drove away things like thought and restraint. "Oh Merlin. Draco, please, make me yours, please." The incoherent stream of words raced from his lips.
"You're mine," Draco panted, and he pressed into the body below him, his voice cracking as he tried to memorize and analyze everything he felt, the touches, the heat, the utter welcome and acceptance by this total stranger. "Lily," he groaned, pulling tight on those thick tresses, and as he thrust again everything became mindless and terrible and so utterly overwhelming.
After timeless, pulsing moments, he collapsed, trapping that sexy man below him. Slowly, as the daze lifted, he nuzzled and kissed and licked his way over Lily's back, who flinched when Draco kissed an already marked spot.
He felt no guilt, only a sense of self-pride.
"Shall we retire to the bedroom," Draco asked, his voice husky and sated, but promising more for the very near future.
"Yeah, a bed would be preferable to the floor," Lily said, chuckling. Draco was pleased that Lily didn't sound shagged out, but his voice was definitely laced with satiation. Draco stood and drew Lily to his feet, and as they walked to his room, the lights snuffing out before them.
Harry looked at Draco, lying there, asleep and totally unguarded. Examining those features, he saw something that eased the tension he'd been suppressing inside. There was a softness there and Harry had to admit to himself that things had moved on, this was not the past and "Lily" was no enemy to Draco Malfoy.
He about cried as he gathered his things to leave. He found his skirt over in a corner and somehow his other clothing had migrated to a nearby table, neatly folded. Every time he crossed the room he caught sight of Draco, contentedly sleeping. This was something Harry wanted and knew he could never have. Draco wanted Lily, not Harry and Harry couldn't be what Draco wanted without his veil of Lily.
With a jumble of his things in his arms—he'd have to transfigure them into something that would suit his male body—Harry stood in the doorway of the bedroom, watching the sleeping man. He could love him, he knew this: he could love and cherish him and submit to him in every way. Just the thought, that glimmer of a future warmed Harry, but then that warmth was dashed as he turned and fled the Manor.
Draco, by choice, was not an optimist. He was a realist and though he often hated to admit it, he learned quite thoroughly that some battles, some challenges, he would just never succeed at. Even more so, he learned sometimes it was best if one didn't succeed. Fortunately, he also forgot some of these lessons when deliriously happy, which was his current state of affair. Draco wasn't the kind of man to sit by in heartache.
He lay sprawled across his grand bed; one arm seeking out the warm spot that he knew would be empty. This knowledge came not only from a sense of expectation—Lily did seem a skittish thing at times—but also some innate ability to sense his absence, absence of self and absence of that magical spark that Draco had so easily become familiar, and comfortable with.
But the lack of warm body next to him did not perturb him, or send him into a melancholy. In fact he welcomed the challenge and knew he would find his Princess.
No, while this would have set any other suitor back, Draco saw it as a welcome and expected sign. He enjoyed the chase.
Through the window sunbeams brightened his room and Draco lay there and stared at the dust motes hovering in the air, dancing in the light. Weightless. His arm remained in that empty spot, grown cold by Lily's absence.
That night, rather desperate, he returned to The Moon and Mars. After five glasses of wine he had to admit to himself that Lily would not return that day.
"Hey, barkeep," he called to the bartender. The man walked over, one towel tossed over his shoulder and nodded at him. A pencil was tucked behind his left ear and he reached for the bottle of zinfandel.
"Another glass?" he asked, ready to pour.
"No, but I have a question for you," Draco said, sliding a large bill across the bar to the man.
The man's eyes opened in surprise and appreciation. "Whatsit?" he asked.
"That woman I met here last night—dark hair, green eyes, couldn't miss her—how often does she come in?"
The bartender took a step back and shrugged, eyes easily leaving the rolled up bill on the counter. "Sorry, buddy, can't help you." He walked away leaving Draco and his money behind. Though Draco knew he should be annoyed, he was actually pleased that Lily had people looking out for him. He'd just have to win over his guardian's trust.
"Fine," he called out to the man's back. "I get it. I don't give up easily. I'll just keep coming by… Everyday!" The bartender continued talking to another customer. "'Cause she's worth it." A satisfied smirk danced upon Draco's lips as the bartender turned towards him and watched him walk out.
And he kept that promise and returned every evening to The Moon and Mars until nine days later he met his Princess once more.
"You sure you wanna be here today, Lily?" Samuel asked, as he began mixing Harry's usual whisky sour.
"Why do you ask?" Harry peered at the bartender. He'd been coming here long enough he'd developed a friendly rapport with the bartender. He knew that Samuel recognized he was a man, but he still held up the mirage and Harry appreciated that.
"A bloke's been coming 'round, every night, looking for you. That blond fella you left with last week." He didn't judge; Harry knew how valuable friends were who didn't judge.
"What? Really?" Harry asked, shocked. He didn't think Draco would hunt him down like this. Every night?
"Yeah, usually shows up around 10 p.m. You got about forty-five minutes of peace if you wanna avoid him." He wiped off the bar surface before Harry and set the drink down on a coaster for a local ale. "Enjoy," he said and then he turned away to help another customer demanding a rum and coke.
Harry'd been trolling other establishments on the outskirts of London but hadn't been as comfortable as he was at The Moon and Mars, and Samuel was part of that. He'd even gone to cross-dressing clubs, but they were too aggressive and Harry didn't want control from someone he didn't trust.
Thus the conundrum with Draco Malfoy.
He knew Draco. Strangely, he felt comfortable with his old school rival. Harry had no worries about letting Draco take over, and in that game Draco seemed to be quite sure of himself. Harry snorted. This was Draco Malfoy he was thinking about, of course he was sure of himself.
While musing over his current circumstances, a man sat next to Harry at the bar.
"Hi, is this seat taken?" he asked, and then abruptly sat down with a shit-eating grin, like he thought he was cute with his rudeness.
"Actually, I'm meeting someone," Harry said, turning his body away from the newcomer.
"Oh, don't be that way, sweetheart. Don't snuff a bloke before ya get to know him," he said, right into Harry's ear. Harry swiveled around on the barstool and was face to face with bad breath and a set of leering eyes.
"Hi," he said again, and the he leaned forward for a kiss.
Shocked, Harry reached out to slap the bastard, but his hand was caught and held. "Now, now, none of that," he said as Harry tried to pull away.
"I don't think the lady appreciates your handling her that way," came the calm, droll words from behind Harry. Harry twisted his head around to see Draco standing there, hands relaxed at his sides, posture perfect, sneer and haughty demeanor right in place.
Instantly, Harry recognized that Draco has his wand positioned up his sleeve and that Draco would free him from this vexing letch. Relief flooded throughout Harry.
"I was here first, buddy. Go find your own trollop." He began running his hand up Harry's thigh.
"Trollop!" Harry said, tone shrill even to his own ears. "Unhand me, now." He yanked his arm again and the bloke finally let him go. Scrambling from the stool, Harry darted behind Draco, more than willing to let the "men" deal with this.
"I suggest you leave, before the police are brought in to take out the unwanted trash of this dubious establishment," Draco said, his voice full of command and Harry found himself inching towards him. Almost on their own accord, his hands rested on Draco's shoulders and Harry relaxed his head against that sturdy back.
"Whatever, idiots," the man sneered and walked away.
Draco spun around and wrapped his arm around Harry. "You okay?" he said, burying his face in Harry's hair, nuzzling him in public.
"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Thank you." Harry leaned into Draco, gripping him in relief. He hated guys like that. A shiver shook his body and Draco squeezed him.
"Shall we go to my place?" Draco asked, his voice thick and the tone of it sent tingles along Harry's skin. He just nodded against Draco's chest and then followed him out of the bar, hanging onto his arm.
They Apparated away when it was safe and immediately fell to kissing and petting and divesting of clothing. The lights went out and Harry dropped his disguise, marveling at the way Draco worshipped his body, treating him like the Princess Draco called him over and over.
"My Princess, my beautiful Princess. Merlin, you're marvelous. Don't ever leave me again." As Draco entered him, nipping him the entire time and keeping a tight hold on his hair--that drove Harry crazy--the two men called out to each other and the gods and promised forever in a moment's breath.
Afterwards as the night grew quiet and the two men lay in each other's arms, warm and protected, Harry tried to forget his other life out there and snuggled into that warm embrace until they both fell asleep.
And as before, before morning dawned, Harry slipped out, heart breaking, leaving Draco cold in the morning's first light.
After that second night with Lily, Draco admitted to himself that he could settle for no one else. His Princess had affected him in ways that seemed only hypothetical, if not silly, just a few days ago. He couldn't define exactly what it was, but his life seemed hollower, definitely less satisfying, without Lily around. Though they had shared only two nights and a handful of words, he couldn't help seeing something, like a bright flower or a beautiful painting, and wish he could tell his lover about it. His lover… Were they lovers after only two nights? Draco wasn't fool enough to lie to himself; he knew that he would never be satisfied with another.
So, he began to put together Lily's profile and tried to find out who he might be. He was a wizard who liked to dress like a woman and play the submissive role in bed. He probably held a high position in whatever company he belonged to. Draco had never actually seen him use much magic, but the man was powerful; he could sense it every time they were together. And he knew Draco; he'd recognized him when they first met. Maybe they'd even gone to school together; they seemed about the same age, though it was hard to tell with the glamour. Lily's body didn't feel old, anyway.
Above all else, Lily seemed familiar to him. Something in the voice, or maybe the way he carried himself. It was like trying to remember a word and it was not only on the tip of your tongue, but the back of your brain and if you thought about it directly, it would dissolve into the ether. You had to distract it, make it think you were looking for something else, then bring your mind back to it and catch it before it fluttered away. He was certain he would recognize Lily if they ever met in person, positive that connection would flare up like dragon flame if he ever met Lily's true self face to face.
So Draco made it his goal to begin haunting all of the local wizarding establishments, to attend all of the parties and presentations.
He still continued to meet with Lily: find him at The Moon and Mars. They would go home and fuck and God, Draco didn't know if he could handle another morning alone, but he kept coming back and kept taking Lily to his bed and kept begging him not to leave, though they both knew he would.
And they would talk. Not, Draco noticed, about anything personal enough to allow Draco to find out who Lily was, but they would talk about the world and the war and things that made them happy or caused them endless frustration. They began to know each other on these serendipitous meetings.
However, every morning without Lily left Draco more and more desperate. More and more cold.
Hermione strode into his office and smirked.
"What?" Harry demanded, immediately turning red, though he wasn't quite sure why.
She planted her butt on the edge of his desk. "You've been seeing someone," she stated.
"How would you know?" Harry asked, more than a little annoyed. Last thing he needed was Hermione nosing about. She'd figured out he was gay—that had been a fun conversation… but he didn't think she would understand the whole cross-dressing thing… or the Draco Malfoy thing.
Or the fact that Draco Malfoy wasn't aware he was shagging Harry into the carpet. Casually, he lifted his hand to the back of his neck and brushed against the bruise he'd hidden away behind magic.
Harry flinched, he'd just broken rule #1--thinking about his alter identity at work. Crap, he was slipping.
"Ha! You are seeing someone. So, tell me all about it," she demanded, sounding pleased. "Who is she… or he?" she said in that nosy tone. As if he would tell her.
"None of your business, and no, I'm not seeing anyone." He dropped his gaze and stared at the report on his desk. The lines blurred together. Damn it, he could smack himself in the head. He might as well wear a sandwich board saying "Hi, I'm In Love."
"Well, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Harry." She reached out and patted his shoulder. Harry shook it off and glared. With a smirk she moved on. "Anyway, we have a ribbon cutting for the new Severus Snape Clinic and Research Labs. You're going, aren't you?" Since she decided to drop her interrogation, Harry relaxed.
"Yeah, yeah. Let me grab my robes. Just… I'm not seeing anyone and I don't want to talk about my sad and lonely life, okay?" he whined.
"Sure, whatever. Good luck with that," she said with a wink.
The two friends left the Ministry for the newly established Severus Snape Clinic and Research Labs, specializing in curing and supporting those with curses such as lycanthropy and vampirism. The Clinic's establishment proved to be one of Harry's more trying achievements, due to the community's prejudice against both Severus Snape and cursed partial humans. Because of that, it was also one of his more proud accomplishments.
The air was crisp in the winter's evening, and Harry and Hermione were bundled up as they marched through the wet streets. He wore a Weasley wool scarf and hat as well as his outer cloak, trying for a good impression of a toddler overly dressed by an over protective mother.
They reached the door and Harry held it open for Hermione and then followed her in. A large crowd was milling about as they filed into the hall. Ministry events were always well attended in these peaceful years. Even if the people didn't care about the Clinic, it was an opportunity to see what the other witches and wizards were up to. It became a chance to see and be seen.
"It's you," Harry heard from his right and his blood froze. He recognized that voice. Deny it. He would deny everything.
"Is it you?" Part of Harry longed to acknowledge those words, turn to the man who spoke them and offer himself up, but that strong, in-control part that faced the world scoffed.
Slowly, Harry turned to face Draco Malfoy. His heart broke as he plastered on an indifferent expression. "Malfoy," Harry said with a slight nod. "Are you talking to me?"
Draco looked dumbstruck; his usual quick sneer not even making an appearance as he stared at Harry like he'd been betrayed. "What? You're not…"
"Hello, Malfoy," Hermione said, butting in like the prying friend that she was. Harry loved her even as he cursed her. "Are you here for the dedication?" she asked.
Draco tore his eyes away from examining Harry's every feature and then stared at Hermione with a lost look. Finally he seemed to recognize her and smiled his politician smile. It was all so fake, nothing like the Draco Harry had gotten to know. He had to get out of there. "Why yes. I was excited to hear that Professor Snape wouldn't go unnoticed in history."
He turned his gaze back to Harry, who continued to stare in return. Hermione looked from one man to the other. "What's going on?" she asked.
"Move!" Harry thought to himself. If he didn't move he wouldn't be able to break this spell Draco seemed to have cast upon him. "Nothing," he told Hermione, nodded once at Draco and turned to walk away.
"Potter! Don't leave. I need to talk to you. I know it's you. Please!" he pleaded, but Harry disappeared into the crowd.
Lily was Harry Potter. Holy Fuck. He'd been sleeping with Harry bloody Potter. His heart thudded in his chest, banging against his sternum as if trying to break loose. How had he not figured that out? As Draco watched Harry run from him, a confused Hermione trailing behind, Draco remembered things like his hair, the jerk whenever he touched his forehead, his magic. Those eyes. Harry Potter, Assistant Minister, the man who practically rebuilt the Ministry of Magic, was a closet submissive cross-dresser. And Draco was certain he was in love with him.
Draco tried to make sense of the twisted humor of the universe. He'd obviously been a very evil man in a past life.
It was pure art how Harry had transformed himself into Lily. Not only with spells, but with personality and mannerisms. The voice. Draco was completely flummoxed. His heart continued to race and he ran his damp palms together. Lily was Harry. Lily was Harry.
Did this change things? Did he want to maintain this weird relationship of masks and lies? Was Harry Potter worth it?
Lily was worth it, Draco knew that in his very core. And what were a few masks and lies to a Slytherin; really, he thrived on subreption.
Draco entered the dedication hall decked in holiday splendor, mindlessly grabbed a mug of mulled wine and stalked Harry from afar. The Assistant Minister was mingling, talking to all of the important people in attendance. They all gathered to shake his hand. It was obvious that Harry knew Draco was watching him. Even if Draco wasn't certain from thatfeeling he got when he saw Harry, Harry's downright avoidance and guilt was a good enough indication that he was Lily.
Harry stood before the huge crowd and delivered his speech like a master, so confident and sure, unlike the shy Lily. The crowd cheered him on and he waved a bit before he descended the stage steps and disappeared into the masses, letting Kingsley have his turn to speak. Draco ran to where he last saw Harry, excusing himself as he bumped and jostled the merry supporters of the Clinic. Unfortunately, when he arrived at the stairs, there was no Harry around. He turned in place, searching.
"Malfoy." Draco jumped as he heard his name and whirled around to see Hermione.
"Granger," he said.
"What's going on between you and Harry?" she asked.
The nosy know-it-all still needed to know it all. "Why," he found himself asking, "Did he say something?"
"Well, no… but he was certainly acting oddly from the moment you called out to him. You seemed shocked to see him as well. What's going on?" She crossed her arms and adopted that determined air that had annoyed Draco to no end back at Hogwarts.
"I don't see how it is any of your business," he said in reaction to her query.
She peered at him and Draco was certain she wasn't only reading his thoughts but also his soul.
"Well, I'm sure if you did have any business with the Assistant Minister, you could find him in his office. After hours his secretary is gone and he always forgets to ward his door." Draco's eyes grew wide, staring at her as she spoke the words so nonchalantly. "Of course, I will be up soon myself to talk to him about the ceremony. In about a half-hour. Have a nice day, Malfoy," she said and walked back towards the crowd, her sensible heels clicking on the floor.
Holy shite. Hermione Granger just gave Draco the keys to the kingdom and all he had to do was turn the knob. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all. With focused determination he darted back through the crowd to the exit and Apparated to the Ministry's offices. The halls were empty but the thin carpeting helped dampen his foot falls. It didn't take him very long to find the Assistant's office and Granger had been right; there was no secretary and the door stood ajar.
Quietly, walking in slow, exaggerated movements, Draco crept up to the door and peeked in. There he saw Harry leaning forward on his desk. His elbows propped up his arms; his hands cradled his head. Fingers massaged his skull through his mop of a hairstyle and he was slowly shaking his head.
This was Lily. The man he loved. He swallowed hard and then reaching out a finger, he poked at the door and it slowly swung open. Harry's head shot up and his wand was in his hand before Draco had a chance to say hello.
"Hello," he said tentatively and took a step in the office.
"What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy," Harry said with a disdain that did not reflect in his eyes. His eyes told a completely different story of sorrow and loss.
"Harry, can we talk?" Clicking the door closed behind him, Draco walked into the room, halting before Harry's desk. Two stacks of papers sat on the surface as well as a jar of ink and tin of quills. It was all very neat. Draco could see the back of one silver framed photo propped up, but couldn't see who was in it. He wondered to himself if it was Harry's dead parents, or a reminisce of the Golden Trio. He knew so little about Harry.
"Talk? About what? We've nothing to talk about. Leave." Cold, hard words.
"I don't want to leave. I miss you. I want you." Harry's eyes grew wide, reflecting a myriad of emotions. The wand tip dipped a little. "Whether you're Lily or Harry, I want you," Draco said softly.
"Don't call me that!" Harry screamed; spit flying from his lips as he jumped to his feet, his wand as sturdy as ever in his fury. "You bastard. Think you can just come into my ordered life and fuck everything up, take over? Well, I don't need you. I don't need anyone. Don't you think if I wanted you, I would have kept you?" With two long strides Harry was on the other side of the desk, yelling in Draco's face. They were chest to chest and Draco realized that this body was the body he dreamed of at night, this voice was the one that moaned out his name.
"Harry," Draco said softly, letting his love support the word. Cautiously, he reached out a hand.
"You don't own me! You mean nothing!" Harry pushed Draco hard, sending the taller man across the room. Racing after him, Harry grabbed the front of Draco's shirt, his face inches away, anger and an aching sadness roiling in his green eyes. These were Lily's eyes; there could be no others that vibrant and alive.
Gripping the collar of Draco's shirt, Harry slammed him against the wall. Draco grunted at the impact and clutched at Harry's strong arms, trying to pull them off. Rough portions of brick wall dug into his back and head and he growled under his breath.
"Fuck, Potter. Why are you doing this? It's me. You like me." Draco was certain there was a connection here, was certain that Harry wanted Draco as much as Draco wanted him.
"Not like this, Malfoy. I'm not that person. Don't you get it?" Harry yelled, and then he released one hand from Draco's clothing and brought the fist right smack into Draco's jaw.
"What the hell!" Draco screeched as Harry hit him again.
"I'm not that person!" Harry continued to yell, pummeling Draco, his athletic frame adding momentum to his barrage of punches. "I'm not!"
Draco brought up one hand to cover his face, then wrapped his leg around Harry's and tugged, causing Harry to fall hard to the floor, dragging Draco down with him as Harry continued to clutch at his collar.
"Potter, what the fuck…" he said, grabbing for Harry, but then his words were cut short by a sharp knee to his groin.
"Getoffme!" Harry cried, struggling under Draco's larger frame and his grip on Harry's arms.
As the stars faded away, Draco realized he'd had enough of this shite. He released his grip on Harry's arms and aimed for his hair instead. Once he got a handful he pulled tight and whispered in a commanding way, authoritative and sure: "Stop fighting me, Harry." And Harry did.
He went limp underneath Draco, his eyes glistening as Draco pulled on his hair. Draco leaned forward and breathed him in, taking in the male pheromones, the cologne, the fight and arousal. Burying his nose in Harry's ear he nuzzled and licked and bit down on the soft portion of his neck. Harry whimpered.
"Draco, don't do this," he begged.
Draco was sure Harry was as hard as he was, aching and leaking and just wanting to fuck like they had before. To love like they had before. Draco pulled harder on Harry's hair causing him to whimper again. Draco's cock jumped.
He climbed off of Harry, sitting back on his heals to examine the man sprawled on the floor. He wiped at his lip, shocked at the blood that came away on the back of his hand. "Get up. On your knees, Harry," he ordered, and Harry rose to his knees, head hanging forward, shoulders slouched in defeat.
Draco's heart grew tight at this surrender. This isn't what he wanted. He didn't want Harry defeated, he wanted him willing and totally his.
"Nox," Draco said, casting the room in darkness. Reaching out he touched Harry; carding his fingers through his thick hair, caressing his cheek. Finally, he wrapped his arms around the other man and drew him close. A tremble rippled through Harry's body, but Draco held tight until all of that stress slipped away. A clock ticked the minutes away; the only other sound was the quick, shallow breaths from Harry that eventually slowed from their frantic pace.
"Draco," Harry sighed.
"Lily?" Draco questioned… were there really two people here?
"Harry. Please, just call me Harry," Harry said and brushed his cheek against Draco's, tilting back his head to expose his neck and chest and offer himself up to Draco.
"Harry, my Princess," Draco called him, and then leaned in to kiss away the pain.
Draco stood at the entrance to The Moon and Mars and watched the beautiful man with black hair wrapped like a present in a long skirt and silk blouse. To everyone else, he was a woman, but Draco knew the truth; had known for some time. He loved watching him as he sat and sipped at his drink, leaving red lipstick on the rim. Sometimes he would glance up at Draco through long lashes, his bright green eyes stroking him as they roamed over his body.
His breath hitched, he couldn't stand it any longer.
He descended the steps from the entrance of the bar and walked over to him. "Hey Princess," he said. "Buy you a drink?"
The bartender rolled his eyes at Draco and moved the bottles as he begin mixing a drink.
"Of course," his Princess said with a smile.
Finally, Draco leaned down and kissed him and that ache of separation drifted away.
"How was work, Lily?" he asked.
Lily shrugged, "Same old, same old. I think I might be ready to retire. Maybe take a little vacation."
Draco smiled, he'd been waiting for this. "Need any company?" he asked
Lily stood and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist and leaned against him. Draco buried his nose in that black hair and took comfort in the scent. Lily felt right in his arms, as a woman or a man, they just fit.
"Of course," he said. "I need somebody to carry my bags." He chuckled and Draco squeezed him tight.
"Anything for you, my Princess, anything for you."
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