Author's Note: I keep cranking out these silly plotbunnies.
Disclaimer: Disclaimed.
Summary: After a rocky on-off relationship with Starfire, Richard Grayson needs a place to crash and burn. Specifically, Raven's.
Hush, Little Birdie
.:x:.
When we said our goodbyes and exchanged our numbers, we never thought things would turn out the way they did. Cy and Beastboy left for Steel City, and Star and Robin headed to Bludhaven. I stayed here in Jump—the only one that disappeared from the headlines. Out of courtesy, the city left Titans Tower as it was.
Normalcy was a strange concept at first—it wasn't very hard to notice a former Titan, even in street clothes. The media tracked me down to my condo—a gift from a certain Bruce Wayne—and camped out in the parking lot. I made sure they understood that I could still use my powers—demonstration included—and eventually, they left, with very little prodding from Yours Truly. Slowly, I became what any human being was to another human being—crap. And being half-demonic, with an unusually high tolerance for pathetic mortals, like yourselves, I was fine with that.
I never thought I'd see him again. Without Star, for that matter.
Despite all my years being with him, I was never prepared for the chaos he brought into my life.
Thinking back, I never should have opened the door…
.:x:.
"Hi."
Raven blinked.
"I need a place to stay."
Too shocked to speak, Raven opened the door wider and teleported the bags inside, before turning to face her guest again. He was taller, of course, with a leaner face, but still had that boyish charm she remembered. His eyes were a light blue—she knew that already—but the color disturbed her for some reason, somehow oddly out of place, but perfectly normal at the same time.
"What…what are you doing here?"
"I told you," he said a second time, "I need a place to stay. You won't turn me away, will you?"
He said it lightly, but Raven made no comment.
"Why are you here?" she asked, harsher than she intended.
"I promise I won't stay for long, a month and a half, maybe. And I'll pay half the bills, naturally." It was clear he wouldn't give a better answer. All right; she could handle that.
"And cook. Twice a week." An eyebrow rose, and once again, Raven found the action so odd. She preferred him masked.
He nodded his consent.
"Starting tonight."
.:x:.
She marveled at the simplicity of it all; she accepted him so easily without question. When she had thought about meeting them again—any of them—she always imagined an awkward tension, but she felt none of it.
He had gone to the spare bedroom to unpack and she had plopped ungracefully on the couch when she heard the door shut, still staring at spot where she had seen him last. Presently she stood up to resume vacuuming—he would come out eventually to prepare dinner. When he did come out, she was still cleaning, but turned the vacuum off.
"Would you like something…coffee?"
"No," he said slowly, watching her. Then why was he staring?
"You're cleaning."
"Obviously your perception hasn't changed."
"Sorry," he offered lamely, "but I can't get over it." It was too ordinary.
She paused. The wet dishcloth she was using to wipe the coffee table lay gently underneath her hand.
"That makes two of us, then," she said, standing up to stretch. "What are we having for dinner?"
"What do you want? And what do you have?" he asked, probably remembering how they never really had anything edible in the fridge at the Tower.
"I went shopping yesterday."
He went into the kitchen and called out, "Pasta, it is!"
"Red sauce," she called back. She was crazy; she was so crazy.