Disclaimer:
I don't own the Teen Titans, though I sure wish I did. Or maybe just a pair of hot Tamaranian Princesses to give me a 'bath.' Yum-yum. They all belong to DC Comics and Warner Brothers.

Summary:
A love that transcends time and space, linking two people, leads one to undertake a journey to find the other. Takes places after the events of 'Cyborg the Barbarian' and was originally something of my own personal response to the lack of Sarasim stories on the website. Something that has still yet to be rectified. Rated PG-13 just to be on the safe side, for epic action violence and some romance.


3000 B.C., give or take.

The time of the early Bronze Age, when mankind first began to fashion weapons of sturdy metals and make things both terrible and wondrous. A time when the first human villages began to sprout up throughout the landscape under the watchful eyes of their human builders. A time when things truly began to change.

One such city rested on the coastline of the great river, in the center of the known world (for it's inhabitants had never ventured more than a hundred miles in any direction from their home). It's name would one day be forgotten in the annuls of history, as would a great deal of it's people. They were just one of many villages after all, only a hundred of millions of people who lived and died during this period of time. Noteworthy for their accomplishments as people, not as individuals. However, during this time, two had risen to fame. Such that their names could not be spoken aloud without everyone knowing instantly who they were.

The first was The Cyborg, who had fallen from the skies to save them from a great and terrible enemy. So mighty he was, the people of the village whispered, no sword could pierce his armored body, and he could call down the power of thunder itself to destroy any who threatened the ones he protected. Some said he'd had the strength of a dozen men, at least. Some said he had turned the course of a river with his bare hands. The veterans of the Great Battle spoke of such things to their children still.

The other legend was their leader, the wise leader, Sarasim. If Cyborg could destroy any foe with his strength, Sarasim could solve any problem with her wisdom. She too had fought in the Great Battle, many years ago. She was twice the warrior of any male in the village, and her wits were sharp as a daggers. Which was why she was their leader still.

But the children of the village heard a sadness when the two heroes were spoken of together, from any who fought in the Great Battle. They had been lovers, it was said, and when the Battle had ended, no sign of Cyborg could be found, as if he'd been swallowed back up by the earth itself. Some said he perished in the great battle, but no sign of his body had been found afterwards. His tomb lay empty, though the people had grieved for his loss.

Only Sarasim knew the truth of the matter.


The ring of metal was enough to identify the blacksmith even to those struck blind in both eyes. It was open aired, which proved fortunate in the heat of the city during the summer months, when the forge was good and hot. The door had been left open this day, and many beautiful wares lay on the tables outside, waiting to be claimed by those with the coin, interest, and need.

Sarasim politely cleared her throat and addressed its sole occupant as she stepped inside. "Master Blacksmith?"

"Come in," said the man, dark-skinned and bearded, taking a moment to wipe his forehead as he turned towards the doorway. "What can I do for... Lady Sarasim!"

She smiled, her beautiful face twisting into a faint grimace. "Please, I have never cared for that title. I am Sarasim only."

"As you wish," he replied, setting aside the tools of his trade and turning his attention fully to her. "What can I do for you?"

"You have already done much for this city, old friend," she said, addressing the older man affectionately, for she had known him for many, many years. "You and your son both have stood beside me and helped to build this city and protect it from outsiders. For that alone, I thank you."

The Blacksmith nodded his head at her words. "It is true, but we have been glad to serve under such a skilled warrior as yourself. Honored even."

"I fear that time is at an end," she stated quietly, drawing her cloak around her shoulders more tightly. Despite the heat of the warm summer night and the fire from the blacksmith's workshop, she felt a sudden chill. It went right down to the bone. "It is high time I stepped down... and allowed another to take my place as leader."

"Who?"

"Can you not guess?" she asked slyly.

"Me?" he asked in astonishment.

"Is your son not already our newest champion? You have displayed your valor on more than one occasion, old friend, and your wisdom as well. You need not think yourself lacking. You and your family have been good to the village."

"But... why?" he asked. "Why now?"

She hesitated a long moment before replying, as if wrestling with the answer herself. "I... I cannot go on," she stated simply. "There is a journey I must take... else I will never feel complete. Never whole," she said softly, her voice dropping down to a low whisper.

The blacksmith quirked an eyebrow at this. "You seek Cyborg..."

She nodded simply. "If he is dead, I must know, so I may properly mourn his loss... but if he lives..."

Her voice trailed off.

Nodding to himself, the blacksmith placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. It was so easy to forget, sometimes, that Sarasim was, despite all her wisdom and strength, a young woman. She'd been scarcely an adult when the Great Battle had come upon them. She'd borne the burden of leadership well. The burdens of the heart were not so easy.

"Go," he said simply. "You will be missed, Sarasim... and we will never forget you. Or our champion."

She nodded, brushing away the hot tears suddenly forming at her eyes. "Thank you, old friend... I... I intend to go immediately. Tonight, under the darkness of the new moon... you will tell the others?"

He nodded, and she gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek as a sign of her gratitude before stealing away into the night, the hood of her cloak drawn up to conceal her features as she skirted away as silently as a shadow.

"I certainly hope you find what you're looking for, Sarasim," intoned the older man, watching her go.


Sarasim crept over the high wall of her home, hopped lightly down the far end, and immediately made her way in the darkness towards the river at the edge of her former home. The source of it's power and it's prosperity. She carried only two belongings with her. A short sword that rested at her hip, sharp and deadly (for whatever dangers lay out there for her).

And around her neck lay a thin leather cord. At the end of which was secured a small rectangular rock of blue, silver, and white. A piece of Cyborg's armor Sarasim had found after the Great Battle. Always she kept it close as a reminder of him.

As she walked, her mind drifted back into her memories, and she could see it all as clearly as if it happened the other day...


"I may have failed you as a hero," growled Krall, making his way towards her in huge, earth-shaking steps, his new sickly green body rippling with power as he drew closer to her. "But I shall triumph as your conqueror!"

Triumph was not yet yours, thought Sarasim, activating the hidden switch in her gauntlet to allow her wrist-blade to slip out and lock into place. Quickly, she lashed out with her arm, hoping to run Krall through, but with seemingly no effort at all the great brute grasped her hand in his own, stopping the attack.

Krall's own mighty fist reared back, then struck with the speed and force of a battering ram. Sarasim cried out as she seemed to fly backwards, slamming hard against the ground. The blow had shook loose her bronze helmet, which clattered to the ground several yards from her position, though she praised the Gods she had worn it. Without it, she was sure at the very least her skull would have been fractured by the blow.

As it was, she found she couldn't move. She lay there, stunned, unable to fight back. Utterly helpless.

"NO!"

She heard the cry go out, recognized the voice. Cyborg. He was coming to save her.

"Out of my WAY!"

The sounds of battle erupted more fiercely than ever somewhere to her left, and she could hear the great sword Cyborg wielded as it clanged heavily against the armored hides of the beasts Krall had loose upon them all. He was tearing his way through a sea of them, or so it seemed, to save her.

Whether or not he would be in time was another question.

Krall reached down and grabbed the front of her chest plate, hauling her up into the air as if she weighed no more than a mere child. She reached out, grasping his wrist, but was unable to pry him off, and her legs remained weak from the first blow. She had no more strength left to fight him, and she watched in horror, bright blue eyes wide, as Krall drew back his fist once more...

A strange noise filled the air, carrying over the sounds of battle as clearly as if it's source stood right beside her. The strange whirr and click of Cyborg's armor. "Sarasim! Don't move!"

Time seemed to slow.

Her eyes widened in shock and she turned her head to see her knight in bronze armor being carried away by a black wave of the creatures. No doubt they were intent to keep them separated instinctively. Or perhaps Krall had even ordered as much of them. Cyborg's right gauntlet had been torn clean off and his hand had... changed... into the strange object he used to call forth the thunder. She had seen him use it many times before, but he said it drained him. And with so little strength left in his body...

And then she knew.

He intended to sacrifice himself... to save her one last time. And there was absolutely nothing she could do.

The whirr of Cyborg's arm grew louder, and she could see it in his eyes too, he knew it was a desperate gamble at best, and it was the only way he could save her. She saw too, in his eyes... both of his eyes... the strange red one and his pale gray one... she could see he would not hesitate to do it either.

He loved her. And she him.

Then something... unexpected happened.

As the bright glow of blue lightning coalesced around Cyborg's arm, at the mouth of his device, there seemed an odd whirl in the air above his head. Only Sarasim saw it, not even Cyborg noticed the rift until a bird's claw comprised of dark energy lashed out and grabbed a hold of him, yanking Cyborg suddenly up and out of the reach of Krall's beasts and towards the rift...

"Noooooooooooo...!"

Cyborg's final cry still echoed in her mind, on occasion, when she felt despair most keenly. But his efforts had not been in vain, she saw. Just as the rift drew closed, a bolt of blue shot forth from it, speeding towards her. She closed her eyes, having full faith in Cyborg and his magic. He had boasted to her once before that he never missed. She believed him.

Her faith was well rewarded. The blast missed her by scant inches, to be fair, but she emerged the blast without a scratch.

The same could not be said for Krall. The blast impacted fully against him, striking him in the chest with the full fury of the armored hero behind it, and sent him flying through the air, much as she had, moments earlier. He landed with a bone-crunching thud on the ground, so hard it seemed the village shook from the impact. She landed and immediately went into a roll, minimizing much of the impact. Her armor absorbed most of the damage, but she would be sore for a week, at least.

What happened next was a blur, but she dimly recalled lifting herself up and making her way to Krall, who was dead by the time he'd hit the ground. With their leader defeated, the green beasts had fled, and Sarasim stood atop of the defeated conqueror's body and threw up her sword, as her people issued a victory chant.

They had few casualties, which was fortunate, and even fewer injured. Mostly bruises and broken bones here and there. But of Cyborg, there was no sign. Only the strange piece of his armor, broken off during the battle, remained as a reminder of their bravest defender.


A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and Sarasim took a moment to mourn Cyborg's loss. She had done so many times in the years since he had vanished. Not dead, no, she did not believe that. Her hand instinctively came to the talisman around her neck. The only piece of him left. No, he was not dead... she was sure of that. They were bound by forces stronger than magic or technology or circumstance.

They were bound at the soul, as if they were in fact a single one that had been split in half.

But now they were separated, and having met him, Sarasim would never be content here in her home. She would be left with a void in her, incomplete, unwhole. She needed to find him to fill that void. To be complete once more.

And thus, her journey had brought her here.

The people of her village knew of and feared this place, and rightly so. She had learned of it from an underling of Krall's who had the good mind to leave the village shortly after his defeat. It was a mountain range, black spires and forbidding chasms. The river had led her this way, though in the dark, her steps grew slower and more cautious, and her hand rests on the hilt of her sword as she made her way forward, aware of the dangers of these black rocks. Nor was the environment the only danger. Here, the shadows were alive and breathed, and seemed to watch her as she past. A chill ran down her spine, but she stubbornly ignored it.

Finally, she found the cave she'd been told of. It was not easy to mistake. An eldritch blue light lit up the walls, illuminating it dimly despite the thick, ever-present fog. It was also cold... far colder than it should have been. The chill of death lingered in the air.

Steeling herself, Sarasim called out bravely, "Witch. Show yourself."

A harsh intake of breath made the warrior maiden whirl around, hand on her sword hilt, legs spread in a defensive stance. However, when no sudden attack came, she allowed herself to relax a little.

The Witch stood before her.

Her age was impossible to determine, but ancient would not be an inaccurate term to describe the sickly woman who stood before Sarasim. She was bent and withered with age, shuffling forward towards her as if she required all of her will not to crumble to ash then and there. Her eyes were yellow and seemed sightless, but her gaze locked on Sarasim, telling her such was not the case.

"Greetings... Sarasim," she hissed out, her voice as raspy as sandpaper. It grated on Sarasim's nerves, but what truly chilled her was the fact that the creature knew her name. Could she read another's mind with her magic? she wondered idly. She was certainly powerful enough.

A bitter smile twisted the cracked lips of the crone. "You needn't fear me probing your thoughts, warrior," she said, evidently doing just that. "Krall spoke often of you... he coveted more than just glory and power, you know. Had my powers been up to the task, he would have asked me for you as well."

Sarasim felt another shudder ripple up her spine, but this was from disgust, not the cold. "Krall is dead now, witch. You have no one left to serve."

"Mmm," the Witch replied with a nod of her head. "Very true. But you seek me out, because of my power. You wish for something as well, don't you?"

"Information first," replied Sarasim darkly, taking a step back. "I've heard all about you and your bargains, Witch. The 'prices' for your power."

The old woman laughed at that, and her laugh was horrible to hear, like a raven choking. She spread wide her robed arms and smiled at Sarasim. "You may ask what questions you like, child... some carry no price... others... well... you shall see..."

Sarasim nodded, having expected as such. And she was no stranger to negotiating either. Ruling a people meant more than sword-rattling and head-bashing, after all.

"Do you know why I am here?" she started with.

"No," replied the witch, startling Sarasim. "But I can easily guess your reasons," she added, her malevolent gaze drifting down from the warrior-maiden's blue eyes to the talisman around her neck. Instinctively, her free hand clapped over it. "You seek your warrior... the one I brought here."

"At Krall's behest."

"Krall asked for the strength to defeat the monsters I unleashed upon your people," replied the witch. "It is not always I who decide the price of my magic," she added, seeing Sarasim's confused look. "Fate also determines the price."

"I wish to know where he is... how to reach him," Sarasim said after digesting that piece of information. Bargaining might be harder than she thought, if even the Witch couldn't deliver a set price.

"I have the means," the Witch replied enigmatically, drawing herself up to her full height and folding her arms. "Have you what is required?"

"I have little of value," replied Sarasim carefully, which was true enough. She'd left almost everything behind to undertake this journey. "That which I value... is what I seek... how can I pay you with what I wish to obtain?" she asked.

The Witch cackled again at this, throwing back her head and letting her laughter echo throughout the cave. "A wise answer," she replied, a smile gracing her lips once more. "To that, a simple price to pay... and I shall reunite you with your warrior."

"Name it."

"To grant you what your heart desires... I would have you fulfill my heart's desire," replied the Witch, with a wicked grin.

"... you... wish for... money? Power?" asked Sarasim, the last very nearly making her draw her sword from its sheath. But the Witch shook her head, and her hand remained where it was.

"Look around you... what use have I for money? Power? I have more at my fingertips than I care for, and even my power has a price," she said bitterly.

"What do you want then?" spat Sarasim, angry with her riddles and doublespeak.

"... to rest," replied Witch, closing her eyes a moment and giving a weary sigh. "To sleep once more. Krall awoke me from my slumber, and only he could send me back... with him gone, I require another."

The two women locked eyes, yellow and blue orbs gazing at one another as they took each other's measure and found what the other needed, they possessed.

"Deal."


The wind picked up suddenly, very nearly knocking Sarasim over as she drew up her fur-lined cloak and used it to shield herself from the worst of it, grimly pressing on across the desolate wasteland.

"My power is not such that it will pluck you from time, as I did with the warrior," the Witch had said. "But I know of a place where time lies still, while the world around it passes it by. Go to this place, and drink this elixir I have prepared. Do so, and you shall sleep... and awaken in the time of your warrior. The rest is up to him."

So had been the Witch's instructions. And thus, with the ceremony completed, Sarasim had put her to rest. She would threaten no one else with her sorcery and her prices. She had obtained her own heart's desire, to sleep untroubled by the changing of the world.

Very soon Sarasim would too. But she did not intend to slumber forever as the Witch did. She wanted to awaken... when the time was right. She admitted to having only a vague understanding of the Witch's talk of time and space, and knew only to find her way to Cyborg's home, to Cyborg himself, she would need to put her trust in the Witch's magic.

So she traveled, day and night, to the place the Witch had spoken of. An unspoken price here as well, for it was a long and hard journey, many miles. Always with the rising sun at her right and the setting sun at her left, always in the same direction, across whatever terrain barred her way.

The elixir lay in a pouch at her side. Only a dozen or so drops in a small water pouch. She was very careful not to let any harm come to it.

The terrain was not her only trouble for the long journey. It began to grow colder as well, the further she traveled. Not just with the ending of summer, but the climate as well. Soon she was trudging through snowy mountain peaks and icy plains in the self-made furs of a bear and some wolves. Still she trudged on.

Finally, she came to her destination. The Witch had described it perfectly for her. A crevice in the ice, split into three parts like a bolt of lightning. There could be no two others like it anywhere in the world.

And so she descended into the depths of the earth, and vanished from the eyes of the world, never to be seen again... for nearly five millennia.


At the north pole their existed a little known cave in the Arctic Circle. Only a few people on Earth were aware of it's existence, which was fortunate, for it was a natural wonder of the world, and were the general population aware of it, it may have very well been destroyed years ago.

This cave was unique in that it led into an underground cavern, miles beneath the surface of the Earth. And it was this cavern in truth, that was the real mystery and wonder. It was a place that time had truly forgotten, a self-contained ecosystem that remembered the days when Earth had seen the mighty thunder lizards roam it's surface, long before man had ever come to walk in their place. How it was possible for such an ecosystem to exist, none could say. Perhaps heat from volcanic fissures below the surface warmed the cave enough to allow the growth of plant-life, and the reflection of such fissures off the crystal-like ceiling overhead simulated sunlight. And perhaps, just perhaps, there was magic at work, that made it all possible. It was one of the many great mysteries of our world.

Dinosaurs lived down here, as did all manner of exotic plants and animals both big and small. But of primary interest were it's two unique residents, metahumans with strange powers and honorary Titans.

Our first was Gnarrk, a caveman from an era long gone, frozen in ice and revived centuries after his old life, now content to live in the underworld, away from the modern world that confused and terrified him. And the second was a young girl named Kole with the power of crystal within her very body, who had quit the same modern world that sought her for her powers, eking out a simpler existence with her best of friends, Gnarrk.

Today, the two were exploring a recent change in their underground home. A shift in the blocks of ice above their heads (the result of global warming melting the arctic circle, though they did not know it) had caused a cave-in to the southeast of their tree home. Out of curiosity, the two had gone to investigate it and see what they could find.

What they had found had amazed them. And this was from two young people who had fought off supervillains and regularly hunted long-extinct velociraptors for their dinner.

Immediately, Kole had done what she felt best under the circumstances... she called her friends, the Teen Titans. Hearing that something odd was going on in the Arctic Circle, they had promised to send aid as soon as they were able. That aid arrived later that very same day in the form of a teleporting sorceress in a blue cloak, the enigmatic Raven.

"Gnarrk!" greeted the cave-man of the same name politely, though he did so safely behind the much smaller form of Kole. Technology and magic alike both continued to scare him.

"Hi Raven," said Kole, the bubbly, pink-haired girl. Not afraid in the least, she made her way up to shake Raven's hand. Raven nodded her head to the greetings as she returned the shake, shrugging off her hood.

"Nice to see you again, Kole... Gnarrk," she replied, her voice flat and emotionless as always. She could have been sincere, probably was, but it was always hard to tell with Raven.

"We're glad you came, this is really something you need to see. You especially Raven," said Kole, leading the way as the merry threesome headed off on the trail towards their discovery.

"Gnarrk," agreed the caveman with a nod as he knuckled his way along after the two girls.

"I fail to see what it could possibly be of any interest to..." said Raven, and then her voice caught in her throat as they reached their destination. The cave-in from earlier hadn't really collapsed onto anything, it had shifted aside to reveal something. A something that Raven instantly recognized, though she'd only seen it once before, in one of her books.

"My goodness," she swore.


"Yeah Bee take care... no really, you're welcome... yeah I had fun too... alright, later..."

A click, and the phone was hung-up. Or rather, turned off, since it was built into his left arm and short of removing the appendage it was impossible to get rid of.

Natural part of being unnatural.

Still, it made driving a lot easier. Which was fortunate, since Bumblebee had chosen to call him in the middle of Jump City's busy rush hour, and the streets were overflowing with vehicles of every shape and size. Drivers weren't too pleasant either, and more than once Cyborg had been cut off by some angry worker hoping to get home and unwind. Ah well... once he got to the bay he could make much better time. Not many cars had built in rockets, after all, like the T-Car.

It had been an eventful week for Cyborg, who'd been spending some time in Steel City with the East Titans, helping upgrade their security systems, though that had mostly been a pretense. Since things had quieted down in recent years, it had been easier for the core five Titans to relax and pursue more leisurely activities. For Cyborg, that meant seeing his friends in Titans East. Speedy, Aqualad, Mas y Menos, and especially Bumblebee.

He'd even been introduced to a new member of the team this time around, the horn-blowing Herald.

Bumblebee's boyfriend.

Easy-going and friendly guy that Cyborg was, when he'd been introduced, he'd reached right up and shook the man's hand when they'd met. He'd been alright, in his own way. He was a shy, quiet sort, but that made him perfect for the louder and more confident Bumblebee to boss him around. No outsider could possibly be confused as to who wore the pants in that relationship.

He was happy for both of them.

At least, that's what he'd told them, he mused as he parked the T-Car in the underground garage of Titan's Tower, alongside the R-Cycle and the B-Ped (which was still in need of repairs, he noted). And perhaps he really was happy for them. They deserved one another. And after all, Cyborg and Bumblebee had never worked out quite well in that way. For one thing, they were too competitive, too bossy with each other, too stubborn. They'd gone out on a couple of dates but those had always ended awkwardly. And Cyborg suspected he knew why.

Sarasim.

She'd been his first real love. Jinx had been a harmless crush (well, not quite that harmless maybe) and Bumblebee was just a friend, but he'd never felt as strong as he did about anyone than he did about the barbarian Queen from five thousand years ago.

Another sigh. Artificial lungs had no need for oxygen the way a full human's did, but the effect was the same. A gesture of sadness. Sarasim was gone... had been gone for millennia. Even though they'd won the battle against Krall, it hadn't made any difference. Not really. He'd been glad they'd won, of course, good triumphing over evil and all, but sometimes he wondered what was the point?

"Does anything we do really matter?" he wondered aloud as he walked down the corridors towards his room. "Do we really make a difference with what we do? Or in the end, when all is said and done, is it all for nothing?"

"Gee," came a deadpan response from a side-corridor. "And here I thought I was the depressing one."

"Hey Raven," said Cyborg as he passed her by, barely giving her a nod to acknowledge her presence. "How'd things go with Kole and Narrk?"

"GN-arrk," she corrected him. "And it was... well... interesting actually. Uhm... Cyborg..."

"Yeah?" he said, coming to a complete stop and turning to face her. Raven looked as if she had something important to say. And with Raven, that could range anywhere from they were out of herbal tea to it was the end of the world. Cyborg braced himself.

"We... well... we have a guest. It's someone I think you'd like to meet."

"Oh, who? Fixit? Spike?" he asked, rattling off the two best guesses he could think off of the top of his head. Neither dropped by frequently, but most of Cyborg's close friends could be counted on both hands... with fingers to spare. And all of Titan's East were still back in Steel City.

"They're waiting in your room," said Raven, in an uncharacteristically rushed voice, grabbing a hold of Cyborg's arm and hauling him down the corridor after her. "I really think you'll want to meet them. Right. Now," she added with emphasis.

Cyborg quirked his one remaining eyebrow. This was getting weirder and weirder by the minute. And it got even weirder when Raven didn't follow him into his room to introduce their guest, instead letting the door seal shut with him inside and her outside. Really, with Raven you got an off day here and there but this was beyond weird.

"Hello?" he said. The room was dark, he hadn't bothered to power-up the lights yet. However, his infra-red optic sensor showed him that a warm body, humanoid, was standing just beside his work station. Whoever it was, they jumped when they heard his voice, turning to face him.

"Cyborg?" came the voice. A voice he recognized instantly. A voice he needed no machinery in his skull to tell him exactly matched the pitch of hers. But... no... it was impossible. Yet... he'd seen the impossible before. Could he dare to hope?

"... Sarasim?"

Click. The lights came on.

There she stood, a radiant vision of beauty and elegance, clad only in a simple loincloth that clung to her curvy figure. Sky blue eyes, jet-black hair, richly tanned skin... she hadn't even aged all that much. She looked almost the exact same as when Cyborg had last seen her.

"Sarasim?" he asked again, instantly running a self-diagnostic to see if his core processor wasn't breaking down.

Immediately it was cancelled as she stretched out a hand, placing it lightly on his right cheek, the one still composed of human flesh. And he felt her. Not registered a touch, the way the rest of his body did, but really felt her.

She was real enough for him.


Raven, having lingered outside of Cyborg's room long enough to ensure everything was alright, immediately made her way to the living room. She did not need to be an empathy to sense that both Cyborg and his guest were going to want to be left alone for a long, long while.

Which means she had to break the news to the rest of the Tower's residents that they'd just gotten a new guest. So it was she arrived, book in hand, in the living room of Titan's Tower. And because of Gnarrk and Kole's earlier alert, the Titans quickly dropped what activities they were doing so they could listen to her report.

"What'd you find, Raven?" asked Robin, all business-like as usual.

"It's... complicated," replied Raven after a moment, sitting down on the couch. "Suffice to say Titan's Tower is going to have a... a guest of sorts for a while."

"Really? Who? Where? Is she pretty?" asked Beastboy, plopping down onto the couch beside Raven, asking the last question with an exaggerated waggle of his eyebrows. Inwardly, Raven smirked, though outwardly she grimaced. Sometimes she wondered about that boy.

"I don't know her name, she's in Cyborg's room now, and I'm fairly sure she's spoken for..." remarked Raven, answering his questions in rapid fire, just as he'd asked them. Long years of living with Beastboy had kept her wits sharp, if nothing else.

Sensing the other Titans wanted some elaboration, Raven laid the book down on the coffee table before them. With a quick gesture the book's pages glowed black and obediently flipped open to the correct page.

It depicted a victorious battle of armored warriors, triumphant over a scaly-green giant, who now lay under the boot of a warrior-princess with sword upraised.

"That," said Raven, tapping the image of the girl, "Is who Cyborg's guest is."

Beastboy managed to neatly sum up the collective Titan's thoughts in a single, short phrase.

"Dude...!"


"It's... just so amazing you're here..." said Cyborg. "I... I didn't even know what'd happened to you."

Sarasim smiled gently. "As was the case with me. You vanished as mysteriously as you appeared, Cyborg. I saw the dark hand pluck you out of the battle... in fact at first I feared it was another of Krall's tricks," she added with a frown.

Cyborg chuckled to himself at that, shaking his head. "Nah... Raven was just... well... she tells me she wasn't able to be delicate about it. Locking onto my position across five millennia and yanking me back to the present..."

His voice deliberately trailed off, realizing he was wandering into technical areas, to say nothing of magical areas, that Sarasim would have no understanding of.

"... I'm sorry I wasn't there," he finally managed, settling for the short and bitter of it.

Again, that gentle smile came, and she rested a hand lightly on his mechanized shoulder. "You were there when it mattered, Cyborg. Without you, we might have lost the battle far sooner... but instead we were victorious, and no small part of that we owe to you and your courage."

"That means a lot," he said. "I... uhm... do you want anything to drink? You must've walked a long... I mean..."

Again, that gentle smile. She knew Cyborg was a man of action, not words, as was evident now, when he did not seem to know what to say. It did not matter to her. She knew and accepted it. Even liked that part of him.

"No, I am fine... I merely wish to sit and talk..."

He indicated the stainless steel table he used for his night-cycle repairs. It wasn't much but Cyborg's room was somewhat lacking in ways of furniture. At least, suitable furniture for people who didn't have cybernetic enhancements. And that became abruptly apparent when Sarasim grimaced as she sat down on the steel bench.

"... it feels like ice," she remarked idly, tracing the side of it with her finger. "You truly rest upon this?"

"I... don't... don't feel cold as much, anymore," he replied reluctantly.

"Ah, because of your armor," she said, with sudden understanding.

"... yeah... because of that."

A momentary awkward silence descended upon them... Cyborg, who did not like to speak of all that he'd lost because of the accident so long ago, and Sarasim, who couldn't comprehend it entirely.

"So how did you get here?" asked Cyborg, changing subjects as he sat down beside her. "I wasn't aware of any temporal taxis you could've hailed."

She laughed softly at that. She didn't understand the joke, but she did vaguely recognize it as a joke from his body-language and tone of voice. "It is... a long tale," she replied.

"I got time. And if I don't, I'll make time," he added emphatically, placing his hand over hers gently.

She smiled, and the tale poured forth from her lips, as she recounted all that had passed since the Great Battle, the defeat of Krall and his monsters, the empty months afterwards, the eventual decision to leave behind her people, the Witch, the journey north... and then finally, the end of her long journey. Where Raven, with her knowledge of mysticism, had figured out how to awaken her in Gnarrk and Kole's hidden underworld. Then Raven, recognizing her, had brought her to Titan's Tower.

"I have traveled many hundreds of leagues to find your home," she said as she finished with her tale. "To find you, my Cyborg," she added, more softly, her bright, sky-blue eyes gazing up into his, unflinching as they regard both the warm gray orb of humanity and cold red gaze of machinery. Most people could not look into Cyborg's other eye and not shudder, at least a little. Sarasim did not. She looked past his eyes... to his heart and soul.

Neither knew what they were doing, neither was really thinking... and perhaps that was for the best. They were letting emotions and the magic of the moment guide them, as Cyborg reached down and cupped Sarasim's slender chin. She tilted her head up, and he leaned forward. Their lips met... gently, simply, tenderly... and in that moment, both realized just how much they had missed the other... just how much their lives were... incomplete without each other. They were two halves of the same whole.

How long that kiss lasted, neither could tell.

And neither really cared all that much either.


Author's Notes:
Freshened up and polished off the story a bit, since its an old favorite of mine.

Special thanks to Badger the Gnome (formerly known as Comet-Hime) for providing the story image used.