Written with the aid of various fabulous story generators.
It's not that Tim is uncomfortable working with robots. He's worked to rid himself of any lingering prejudice against non-carbon-based lifeforms and artificial intelligences. Sometimes he finds them much easier to deal with than humans, even. The problem isn't that Indigo is robotic. It's that she's...well...not robotic enough. Tim is pretty sure that other robots--proper robots--aren't supposed to get that kind of look on their faces when interfacing with other robots. That...distracted look.
"Indigo?" he says, a little louder this time. In his head, almost idly, he's calculating the various escape routes from this warehouse, even though he knows her reflexes are a hundred times better than his. (He's not uncomfortable with robots. Not even the ones that can beat him.) It's just one of his reflexes when his partner starts acting...oddly. There are far too many ways to affect or control the human mind, and it should theoretically be even simpler to build a virus program of some sort, relatively easy to download it surreptitiously...
She isn't answering.
Tim fingers the comm and steps forward, tapping her distressingly-warm shoulder. "Is something wrong?"
When he touches her, she breaks contact with the display panel, letting her hand fall away. The low hum ceases, and the panel goes dim. "Nothing is wrong, Robin."
He loosens his grip on the comm, but doesn't let go. "You didn't hear me, before?"
"I was communicating with the security systems," she says, sounding eerily like Dick mentioning he was just chatting with Roy the other day. Like she's been socializing.
"Did the two of you have a nice talk?" He hopes that didn't come out quite as acidic as it sounded. He doesn't want the Outsiders thinking that Robin is some kind of anti-robot bigot.
"Very much," Indigo says, and turns around. Her eyes are--
Her hand is clamped tight enough around his wrist to hurt. Hurt kind of a lot. The comm hits the floor and skitters away.
"You are not authorized to be on these premises," she says, except it's not her voice, just like it's not her eyes. It's the security system, which is apparently very well-made and possibly intelligent, given that it tricked Indigo into uploading it. Tim isn't sure if Indigo will remain dormant when the invading system tries to really hurt him, or if maybe her deeper programming will kick in and take over, but he really doesn't want to find out.
"You are not authorized to be on these premises," the system repeats, and pulls hard on his arm, and suddenly he's staring at the floor, stretched across Indigo's perfect simulacra of human thighs. "Corrective measures will now be taken," the system tells him, and yanks down his tights.
(Indigo/Tim Drake...encounter a spankbot)
"Nnnngh," Roy said, and instantly regretted it. His mouth tasted like something small and multi-legged had crawled inside, died, and started to ferment. He settled for twitching his arm instead, and trying to figure out why he couldn't do more than twitch. And why the pillow under his face felt so warm and soft and...really a lot like a breast.
Which answered a few questions right there, really. And the smirk was already creeping onto his face when he remembered where he was. The Titans had asked him to help close a case, and he'd been staying at Dick's apartment rather than dig up the cash for a New York hotel. It had been a good time, really--the kind of teamwork Roy had always liked best, with friends who didn't have to come on all hardass to make themselves feel competent. There really wasn't a lot of that to be had working for the government, and when he got Dick's call he'd said yes before Dick had even finished asking. And Dick had grinned at him over the phone and told him the number of the flight he'd already set up for Roy, and it was...a good time. He didn't get to see his friends enough.
Right now, though, with his face buried in what could only be Kory's breasts, Roy thought there might be a good reason for that. Like that not seeing his friends kept him from waking up in bed with his friends' naked girlfriends, which was a totally unfriendly thing to do, and part of Roy's brain was already trying to figure out how to apologize for this.
It would help if he could remember how the hell 'this' happened in the first place, because it definitely hadn't been on his mind when he went out celebrating with Dick and Kory last night. He distinctly remembered hooking up with a seriously hot waitress named...J-something. Jenny, Jenna...short spiky brown hair and hips that could probably take out small buildings with one good swing. Except they'd gone out back while the happy couple were drinking coffee and being adorable at each other, and Jenn(y/a)'s hips hadn't done structural damage to anything except Roy, and she'd gone home, and taken her rather awe-inspiring chest with her, so the also-magnificent pillows currently supporting his head...pretty much had to be Kory's.
He'd thought about it, of course. Every guy who saw Kory thought about it, because she was golden and perfect and round and really fond of bikinis. But he'd never...thought about it, certainly never meant to do it, and he still couldn't remember what the hell had happened last night for them to wind up here. He couldn't, actually, remember much of anything after giving Jenn-something a really long and pleasantly sticky goodbye kiss, and heading back to the table, and...nothing. Roy's only hope was that they'd all gotten completely fucked up--although he wasn't sure if Kory actually could get drunk, at least on earth alcohol--and Dick had done something even worse.
Not that there was anything worse than sleeping with your best friend's girlfriend, and...shit. This wasn't going to get any better, and it was getting kind of hard to breathe. Bracing himself for the scene that was sure to ensue, Roy tugged his arm out from under Kory's back and sat up.
Tried to sit up, and completely failed, because his legs weren't moving. Roy blinked and twisted around to look. And blinked some more, because...well, he was pretty damn sure he wasn't in trouble anymore.
Dick squirmed and mumbled something when Roy pulled his legs free, then snuggled back against Kory's thigh. He was really astoundingly adorable when he was unconscious. Grinning, Roy rearranged himself more comfortably and rested his head on Kory's not-quite-as-soft-but-still-really-very-nice stomach.
Curled an arm around Dick and pulled him just a little closer. And let himself fall back asleep.
Koriand'r (Starfire) and/or Roy Harper...wake up in the same bed, and don't remember what happened
"I'm gonna kill them," Bea announced.
"You said that already."
"I'm gonna beat them to death with their own fucking limbs. Those little brats think they're funny--"
Guy snickered. "Hey, this setup ain't too bad, you ask me." He flexed his wrists and ankles against the bonds, identical to the ones locked around Bea. They wouldn't burn off, and if Guy wasn't lying about trying to get free--which he probably was, the bastard--they were impervious to ring power. She had to admit, Ted and Booster had cooked up something that might actually be useful, this time. Maybe she'd leave them alive long enough to explain it to the rest of them.
But then, most definitely, there was going to be some serious death. Practical jokes were one thing, but this--this was unforgiveable.
"Are you watching? Awww, c'mon, this is great film!" She could hear the smirk in his voice. His stupid, sleazy, smirky little voice.
"It's lesbian porn, you numbskull. Not exactly Oscar material." Although any woman who could sound that enthused while getting fingered by fake nails that long had to have some kind of acting skill. Bea winced and looked away again. "Christ, I'm going to rip their balls off and shove them up their--"
The soundtrack jumped and shifted, and she heard a small choked sound from Guy. She opened her mouth to ask what was up, but before she could speak, the deep male voices started to pour from the speakers.
Lots of male voices. Groaning. And the popping, faintly electrical sound of Guy frantically shooting off his ring, to no avail.
Bea settled back in her chair, smiling, and reconsidered her vengeance.
(Bea/Guy...watch porn together)