Chapter Text
The sky over Jump City was the color of a day-old bruise, a moody swirl of purple and grey that perfectly matched Kitten Walker’s disposition. She stood, hands planted firmly on her hips, on the rooftop of a ridiculously chic, ridiculously expensive boutique she’d just finished terrorizing. Not that she’d done much of the actual terrorizing. That was what her hired goons were for. Her job was to look impeccable while it happened, a task at which she excelled.
The only thing marring this otherwise flawless picture of villainous panache was Robin, the Boy Wonder, standing about twenty feet away, looking utterly unimpressed.
"It’s over, Kitten." he said, his voice as flat and boring as a concrete slab. He spun his bo staff with a casual flair that was meant to be intimidating but only served to fuel the inferno of her irritation.
"It’s not over until I say it’s over!" she shrieked, the sound a little more shrill than she’d intended. Her prize, a one-of-a-kind diamond-encrusted cat collar, lay discarded near the ledge. The whole point of the heist had been to get Robin’s attention. She had it, but it wasn’t the kind she wanted. She wanted adoration, obsession, perhaps a desperate plea for her to change her ways and join the side of justice, all for him. What she got was… boredom.
"Your dad’s on his way to pick up your hired help." Robin continued, yawning behind a gloved hand. A yawn. He dared to yawn at her? "I’d suggest you go home before your curfew."
That was it. The final, patronizing straw.
"You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you, Rob-in?" she spat, pronouncing his name in two distinct, venomous syllables. She stalked toward him, her platform boots making emphatic clicks on the rooftop gravel. "With your stupid, perfect hair and your angsty, mysterious backstory. You know, some people find that cliché."
"Okay, Kitten." He wasn't even looking at her anymore, his eyes scanning the city below, probably for a real crime to fight.
The rage inside her was a physical thing, a hot, bubbling geyser threatening to erupt. She had tried everything. She had orchestrated jewel heists, kidnapped irritating city officials, and even once tried to blow up the city’s supply of tofu just to get a rise out of his green teammate, all in the hopes of luring Robin into a dramatic confrontation that would end in a passionate, star-crossed kiss. She had read all the comics. That’s how these things were supposed to work. The brooding hero falls for the misunderstood bad girl.
But Robin wasn’t following the script.
"I could have any boy I want!" she yelled, her voice cracking with a frustration so profound it almost felt like despair. "Literally any of them! They would line up for a chance to date me!"
Robin finally turned his full attention back to her, and for a fleeting, hopeful second, she thought she saw a flicker of something in the lenses of his mask. Annoyance? Possibly. Interest? Unlikely.
"Then why don’t you?" he asked, his tone laced with a genuine, cutting curiosity. "Why don’t you go date one of them and leave me alone?"
The words hit her harder than any of his birdarangs ever could. They were simple, logical, and utterly dismissive. He wasn’t just rejecting her; he was writing her out of his story completely. He didn’t see her as a rival, a villainess, or even a mild nuisance. He saw her as a gnat to be swatted away.
Her fury solidified into something cold and sharp. A plan. A terrible, wonderful, exquisitely petty plan.
He wanted her to date someone else? Fine. She would. But she wouldn’t just date someone else. She would date one of his own. She would parade her new, adoring boyfriend in front of him at every opportunity. She would be so sickeningly happy, so disgustingly in love, that the sheer force of her bliss would make him realize what he’d thrown away. He would be consumed by a jealousy so potent it would drive him mad.
Her eyes scanned an imaginary roster of the Teen Titans.
Cyborg? No. Too loud, too much metal. He probably smelled of oil and motor grease. Not her style.
Aqualad? Been there, done that. He was cute, in a fishy sort of way, but far too earnest. And the wet dog smell was a dealbreaker.
Speedy? He was an option. Arrogant, a bit of a show-off. She could work with that. But he wasn't around enough. This needed to be a constant, in-your-face kind of torture.
Her gaze, both in her mind and in reality, drifted past Robin to where the rest of the Titans were wrapping things up below. Starfire was floating, a beacon of nauseating positivity. Raven was… being Raven, a gloomy little thundercloud in a cloak. And then there was him.
Beast Boy.
He was currently in the form of a bright green parrot, perched on Cyborg’s shoulder and squawking out a terrible rendition of a pop song. He was goofy, immature, and a vegetarian, for crying out loud. He was, in every conceivable way, the opposite of everything she found attractive. He was loud where Robin was quiet, silly where Robin was serious, green where Robin was… not green.
He was perfect.
Dating Beast Boy would be the ultimate insult. It was a choice so baffling, so utterly nonsensical, that it could only be interpreted as a grand, theatrical statement. It would show Robin that she was so over him, so completely and utterly moved on, that she had cast her romantic net into the most absurd corner of the pond and pulled out… this. This green, tofu-loving jester.
A slow, malicious smile spread across Kitten’s face. The anger didn’t vanish, but it transformed, crystallizing into a diamond-hard resolve. She looked back at Robin, her eyes glittering with a new, triumphant light.
He was still watching her, a slight frown on his lips, as if he was trying to figure out what was happening behind her suddenly serene expression.
"You know what, Robin?" she said, her voice now a purr of pure, weaponized sugar. "That is a fantastic idea. The best you’ve ever had."
She turned on her heel, her hair swinging like a pendulum marking the beginning of a new era. She didn’t bother to retrieve the diamond collar. It was a bauble, a relic of a failed strategy. Her new prize was much more valuable.
"Consider yourself left alone." she called back over her shoulder, not bothering to see his reaction.
As she descended the fire escape, her mind was already racing, plotting, and scheming. Phase one of Operation: Make Robin Rue the Day was complete. Now for phase two: the wooing of the Beast. This, she thought with a surge of vindictive glee, was going to be an absolute disaster. And she couldn’t wait. She would need a strategy. Flowers? No, too traditional. Candy? He probably only ate vegan, organic, fun-free candy. A love poem? She shuddered at the thought of putting that much effort into something so disingenuous.
No, this required a special touch. The Kitten Walker touch. It would have to be loud, expensive, and completely tone-deaf to the recipient's actual personality. It had to be a spectacle. The more public, the better. She wanted the whole city, and especially a certain Boy Wonder, to see her efforts.
Her phone was already in her hand, her thumb hovering over her assistant’s number.
"Celeste." she would say, "I need you to arrange for a flyover of Titans Tower. I want a banner. A very large, very pink banner. And it needs to say something… poetic."
A wicked grin touched her lips. This wasn't just about making Robin jealous anymore. This was about proving that she could have anything, and anyone, she wanted. Even the boy who was the living embodiment of a sentient broccoli floret. Beast Boy wouldn't know what hit him.