Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Believe me, you'd know if I did.

The rest of the day, the whole one period, passed uneventfully. Rachel quickly grabbed her stuff before Malchoir could find her. She hurried to where her bus was and quickly boarded. Kori joined her and the two engaged in the closest thing to "girl talk" Rachel had ever been involved in.

"Friend Dick is very nice, is he not?" Kori asked, feigning innocence.

"He wears a bit too much hair gel for my tastes, but someone couldn't keep her eyes off of him, could they?" Rachel asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Was I that obvious? I tried to be "cold" about it, but I am afraid I was unsuccessful." Kori said. Rachel assumed that by "cold", Kori meant "cool".

"Don't worry too much about it." Rachel said allowing herself a small giggle, "I don't think he noticed it too much. He was too busy staring at you. Though you might want to watch out for Kitten."

"Who is Kitten?"

"A spoiled brat who usually gets her daddy to get her whatever she wants. She wants Dick, and likes to tell herself that he's hers, but everyone knows that he can't stand her and refuses to even consider dating her. She's rather pathetic really."

"So he does not like this Kitten?"

"Nope, quite the opposite. But you might want to watch your back anyway. It hasn't stopped her from going after other girls that liked Dick."

"Thank you for the advice. I shall be sure to keep it in mind." Kori said in all seriousness. She then looked around, and said, "I believe this is our stop."

They got off the bus and headed different directions to their houses.

Rachel got to her house and looked for her father's car. She didn't see it. She gave a sigh of relief and went up to the door and in the house. She walked into the hall and through to the stairs. She went into her room and deposited her bags. She then returned to the living room.

She looked around and gave another sigh, this one of defeat. She went into the kitchen and grabbed the trash bags. She went back into the living room and began to pick up the trash from her father's binge last night. After she bagged the trash, she went about righting chairs that had fallen and sorting through the frames that had fallen off their perches on end tables, mantels and shelves, where her father had bumped into them in his drunken state and knocked them over. She threw out the ones beyond repair and placed the others in a box that she stored in the closet.

The phone rang and she picked up.

"Roth residence." she said.

"Rachel?" she heard her father's voice.

"Yes?"

"I'm having associates over for dinner tonight. I want you to call that Italian place and have them bring over enough food for five. You will have the house and yourself ready at six o'clock. This is an important business deal for me with a company that's big on all that family shit. Wear that dress that you got last time." (1)

"Any particular item you want me to have them bring over?" she asked her father.

"That Shrimp dish with the bow tie noodles."

" They aren't allergic to sea food, are they."

"No. I would know these things. Are you saying I don't know how to do my job?" he asked. Rachel could hear his voice rising.

"No. I'm sorry." she quickly tried to placate her father.

"Just make sure everything's ready."

"Should I put out the pictures of mom?"

"Yes. Makes it look like we actually miss the bitch that stuck me with you." Rachel felt her teeth grind.

"Should I have them bring a wine?"

"Yes. That Italian wine." he answered. 'That really narrows it down.'

"Are they bringing three people?"

"No. Wilson's coming too. He's going to be the one in charge of relations between out two companies, he needs to be there too." (2)

"Ok, then. Shrimp Farfalle for five. Italian wine. Mom's pictures. Dress from last time. Six o'clock. Am I forgetting anything?"

"You better hope not." Click.

"Love you too, dad." she said, sarcasm dripping off her tongue with every word.

She looked up the number to "that Italian place" and placed the order.

"Are you even old enough to order wine?" the man taking her order asked.

"My father asked me to order it." she answered.

"How do I know you're not lying?" he asked in return.

"My father is Trigon Roth. I believe you've heard of him?"

"Yes, ma'am. He owns Roth Industries."

"Then do you really want to question me?" she asked. (3)

"No ma'am."

"Good. Now have it here at quarter 'til six." she said in a commanding tone.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Send the bill to Roth Industries."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you."

She hung up with the man and looked at the clock. It was 3:30. She had a little over two hours until the food arrived and about two and a half until her father and his guests came. She shivered at the thought of Slade Wilson. She couldn't stand him. He was as bad as her father. No doubt if all went well, he and her father would celebrate out in the town and come back drunker than all get out and either pass out or keep drinking until they did. If it went bad, well, she didn't want to think about that. Either way, her father would be very drunk tonight.

She put the pictures of her mother up in all the places she usually did. She then set the table with the good china and crystal. She made sure all the liquor bottles were full and all the glasses clean.

She then went up stairs to get ready. She slipped on the elegant black dress that her father had bought her for their last "dinner party". She pulled her hair until into a lose bun, curling the tendrils that fell about her face. She then put on enough make up to hide all the bruises, but not enough to where it was over powering on her face. She knew these "family guys". They were old, had big families and were old fashioned. At a dinner on one such occasion where she and her father were the guests, she had applied enough makeup for it to be noticeable because the man had two daughters of his own and she thought that was what he expected of her; instead, he believed that a girl should not wear makeup and commented several times his disappointment that her father was lax enough in his parenting to allow her to wear it. The beating she received that night was one of the worst ever.

She finished applying her make up and put her shoes on. She walked downstairs just as the door bell rung signaling the arrival of the food. She took it into the kitchen and put it on plates, putting the pasta in a warmer and the salad in the refrigerator. She then went through the house into all the rooms that the guests might be in, double checking that everything was in order.

Rachel then went into the front room (4) to wait for her father and the guests. She walked into the hall when her father called to say that they were pulling into the drive and to give her a "friendly warning" that everything had better be ready.

She was the perfect hostess. First taking their coats and hanging them in the closet as her father asked if they would care for something to drink before dinner. When the guests declined, they both walked arm in arm into the dinning room. They then both went into the kitchen where he got the wine and she got the salad. He poured the drinks while she took the salad bowl around the guests.

"Would you like some salad, sir?" she asked in her best tone.

"Why thank you young lady." Mr. Whatever-his-name-was said and he helped him self. "You have a lovely daughter, Mr. Trigon." he said.

" I know and am thankful for it." Trigon said. They both knew this tango well enough and had all the answers down pat. They could do this in their sleep.

"You you must be proud of your dad." Mrs. Wife-of-the-Big-Man said to Rachel as she held the salad for the lady to get some. This let Rachel know that she was to call him "dad".

"Very." she said, putting on her best smile.

After the wine and salad were distributed, Rachel had water, they sat down as a "family" and ate. After the salad was gone, Rachel and her father cleared those plates and came back in with the farfalle.

"Oh, my." said Mr. Big-Boss, "I am afraid that my wife is allergic to seafood."

"My, my, Rachel," came the voice of Slade, "Losing your touch, I see."

"Oh!" Rachel said, "I am so sorry. Are you allergic to chicken? We have some alfredo."

"That would be lovely dear, thank you." Mrs. Just-had-to-be-allergic said, handing her plate to Rachel. As Rachel went into the kitchen she saw her father shoot her a death glare.

She shook off the effects as she ran to the kitchen and grabbed the alfredo that she had ordered just incase this happened. No matter how much of a family man a guy claimed to be, he often forgot to mention his wife's allergies and as seafood was a common allergy, Rachel also tried to circumvent it.

She popped it in the microwave and quickly reheated it. She then put it on a plate and took it in the dinning room.

"Thank you dear." the wife said.

"It was really no problem." Rachel assured her. 'Not yet anyway.' she thought of the doom that awaited her after the guests left, but made no show of it.

The rest of the dinner passed with out incidence. After dinner, her father invited the guests and Slade into the front room. Rachel pretended to be interested in the small talk, but often found her mind wandering. She knew what came where and, by mentally "skimming" the conversation, knew when she would be expected to reply and what answers were expected of her. Over all, except for the seafood allergy incident, the evening went well, and things looked good for her father's business.

After the guests left, Trigon turned to Rachel, anger etched into every inch of his face. Rachel saw Slade smirk over at her and knew that he knew. 'That son of a bitch.'

"I'll deal with you later." her father said to her, "Clean up the mess. Wilson and I are going to celebrate. You just better be glad we were able to cover for your fuck up!"

Rachel bit her tongue. She knew that if she said anything that it would only make it worse. She watched as they went out the door, then gave them a long list of suggestions that were unpleasant and would make a sailor blush. She quickly changed out of the dress she was in and into her jeans and tee-shirt.

She cleaned the mess from the dinner, packing everything away and putting everything in its proper place. She then went up to her room and did the little bit of homework that she had left.

At 10:30, she went to bed, praying that her father and Slade would be too drunk when they got back to remember to "punish" her.

When she woke up for school the next morning, she had several new bruises.

School seemed to drag on the next day, lasting an eternity. She just wanted to go home and go to sleep, something she hadn't gotten much of the night before. She used her lunch time to make up for the loss.

"Hey, Rea? You ok?" she heard Gar ask her.

"It's Rachel, Garfield." she said, her voice muffled from her face being buried in her arm, "But yes, I'm ok. Thanks though."

"Coe on, Rachel, you know I hate to be called that."

"Don't call me Rea, and I won't call you Garfield." to this Gar grunted.

"Friend Gar is right, why are you so tired?" Kori asked.

"Had a late night." Rachel simply said.

"What were you doing?" Dick, who had joined their table much to his and Kori's delights, asked.

"Reading." she said, not quite reaching any ones eyes as she did. Dick got a skeptical look on his face, but said nothing. "So, do you think we'll start anything in Home Ec?" she asked, feeling uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going.

"I do hope so!" Kori exclaimed, then filled them in on all she wished to make that semester.

Raven slumped into her house after the brief walk from the bus stop. She quickly deposited her stuff and started to go about her clean up ritual. She had finished the living room and was heading in to the front room to make sure that it was still clean when she saw her father and Slade still passed out on two of the couches. She saw her father shiver as though he was cold. She hung her head, knowing that she was going to hate herself, but went to the linen closet and grabbed two blankets anyway. She then returned to the front room and covered her father and lazily threw the other blanket over Slade. 'God, I'm pathetic.' she thought.

She then went up to her room and did the homework that she hadn't gotten done in the day, then laid down herself and soon fell deep asleep.

Rachel had mixed emotions Friday morning. On one hand, she was happy that the weekend meant no school, but also afraid of how drunk her father might get and a little sad that she wouldn't see her friends. It was a weird sensation for her, to know that she would miss people. She shook these musings to the side as she walked to the bus stop, however.

"Friend Raven!" Kori greeted her at the stop, "Please, I wish to know if you are busy this weekend?"

"Uh, not that I know of. Why?"

"I wish to engage in 'hanging out'." Kori said, "Would you like to come to my house and we can do the watching of many movies late into the night as we share intimate secrets and do the painting of the nails!"

"Uh, sure." Rachel said, "But I'm not painting my nails and I have no secrets."

Kori was overjoyed that Rachel had simply agreed to the sleep over and talked excitedly about all that they could do. "And perhaps we can meet the boys at the mall of shopping tomorrow!"

"That might be nice." Rachel said.

That afternoon at lunch, the girls posed this to the boys.

"Sounds awesome!" Gar said.

"Well, all right!" Vic said.

"I'm game." Dick said.

They then discussed how they were going to get there."

"Well, I can always asked Bruce if we can borrow Jarvis." Dick said. The others stared at him, "What?"

"What's a 'Jarvis'?" Gar asked.

"Jarvis is Bruce's driver." Dick said, when they gave him blank stares, he defended himself, "Oh, sure. Pick on the rich kid."

"We're not." Rachel said.

"Yeah, its just that none of us have drivers." Vic said.

"Well, we gonna use him or what?" Dick asked.

"Actually, I was gonna volunteer to drive." Vic said, "I got my license and I got a car for my last birthday. It's not a limo, but it'll fit us all and it runs."

"I like that idea." Gar said, "This way we don't have to worry about time or pick up locations."

Rachel watched as the others planned to trip to the mall. If anybody had told her a week ago that she'd being going to the mall with not only friends, but this particular group of people as her friends, she'd have laughed in their face.

That afternoon after they got off the bus, Rachel convinced Kori to go to her house while Rachel got her things from her's. Rachel did not want Kori to walk in on her father passed out on the living room couch or into a front room full of empty beer cans.

Rachel walked up to her house and was pleasantly surprised to see that her father's car was not there. She walked in and grabbed some pj's, a pillow, sleeping bag, a change of clothes and various other toiletries that she would need. She then wrote a note to her father to let him know that she was going to stay at a friend's house and was going to the mall the next day.

Rachel then counted the money she had managed to save. "Hmm. Not much." she said to herself, eyeing the ten dollars in her hand. Dare she? She knew where her father kept his money in the house and how to get to it. Should she, could she, get some of it? She ran a hand up her arm and it brushed against a rather sore bruise. After all that man had taken from her, she surely deserved a few bucks. She firmed her resolve and went into her father's study. She opened his safe and took two twenties. He would never notice it and that should last her a good while. After she closed the safe, she went around the house and quickly picked up the trash, then grabbed her stuff and left.

When she got to Kori's house, she heard screaming coming from inside.

She cautiously knocked on the door and saw a flustered Kori answer the door.

"Is everything ok?" she asked.

"Yes. Everything is fine." Kori said, though she sniffed in displeasure, "My sister is just being a -!" What it was exactly that Kori's sister, Mandy, was being, Rachel neither knew or understood. The word was obviously some sort of insult in Kori's native language, however, because her sister came storming into the hall, yelling at her again. Eventually the sisters gave up their feud and Mandy left.

"I apologize for that." Kori said, her cheeks turning red, "I did not mean for you to see an argument."

"No worries." Rachel said, thinking 'That was nothing.'

"Come, let me show you my room!" Kori instantly brightened.

Kori led Rachel up a flight of stairs and through a small hallway to a door with a flowery name plate the read "Kori" on it. The inside of the room was equally "girly" with its pastel purple walls and carpet, her many stuffed animals on her purple canopy bed and white wicker furniture. Rachel, feeling Kori stare upon her, fought the urge to gag, instead pasting a smile and saying that it was nice.

"Glorious!" Kori exclaimed, "Shall we now engage in the sharing of intimate secrets, or the painting of the nails? Or perhaps we may perform braiding maneuvers upon each others hair?"

"Um." Rachel stared at her for a while, at a loss for words. Eventually Kori suggested that they wait a while to do these things and Rachel readily agreed.

Both girls were in sleeping bags on Kori's floor. Kori had convinced Rachel to paint her nails (black) and to allow Kori to braid her hair. Kori even got Rachel to braid part of her hair, which shocked Rachel, she usually despised anything this "girly", but found that it had actually sounded appealing. 'Must be the effect of the room.' she thought to herself.

They were laying in the dark, looking at the ceiling and its glow-in-the-dark stars, discussing the craziness of the Home Ec teacher when, seemingly out of nowhere, Kori posed a question that scared Rachel to the bone.

"Why do you always wear your sweatshirt?"

"What do you mean? I don't always wear it." Rachel tried to bluff her way out.

"I have not seen you with out it." Kori said, "Even now, when we are in our pajamas, you still wear it. Why?"

"Sentimental value." Rachel lied.

"Oh." Kori said, though her tone was one that said she didn't completely buy into the excuse.

"Why do you ask?" Rachel asked.

"Oh, it is nothing. Just something Mandy said earlier." Kori said.

"What did she say?"

"She-she said that your father beats you. I know it was just her being mean. She said that that was why your mother left. I told her she was being a garfnark, but she insisted that she was correct. That is what we were fighting about when you arrived."

"Don't listen to anything she said. Like you said, she was being a garfnark thing. ('Whatever that is.') It's ok." Rachel said, carefully avoiding the lie. "Where is your sister anyway."

"She is out with her friends." Kori sad sadly, " I think she might stay at ones house."

"Who's house?" Rachel asked, thinking it a good place to cause trouble if Mandy didn't stop telling these "rumors".

"I believe she is staying at Kitten's house."

"Oh, Kori. I'm so sorry." Rachel said, rolling over to her stomach to prop herself up to look at her friend. Kitten had been nothing but trouble for Kori ever since it became a bit more than obvious that Dick liked Kori. She had cornered her in hallways and at her locker, causing her to be late for several classes.

"It is ok." Kori said.

'No it's not." Rachel said, "It's wrong. She's your sister, that's tantamount to family treason!"

"My sister and I have never been close. She and I are nothing alike and never have been. I am quite used to this."

"That doesn't make it right." Rachel said as she laid back down.

NOTES:

1) Ok, so I know it's not really original, but I have Trigon as owing this big business, and no, I don't know what it's point is. For all I know, its just a front to launder mafia money. Eh. :S But I figured it fit because it gives him clout and would make others fear him or what he could have done to them, kinda like if he was the demon that he is in the series.

2) Yep, Slade works for him. Only fitting really. Either that, or he was the principal of the school, and I don't think that really conveys the evilness that is Slade, though they can certainly be evil ( and in the case of mine, ninja like how does he get from one end of the hall to the other in the time space of three human steps?).

3) Her throwing her heritage around and using it to her advantage. Hehe, she can be so evil at times.

4) Ok, I don't know about where where-ever you guys are from, but here, the living room is like the room where people watch TV, hang out, stuff like that (kinda like a rec. or Family room) and the front room is like the room with couches and chairs and pictures of the family (though the living room has pictures too) and generally serves no purpose other that when important people come over and nobody wants them to see the mess of the living room and is usually at the front of the house, hence "front room" ( or they use it as a front to suggest that they are neat and orderly all the time…). Unless of course you're from my family and the meanings are synonymous.

Ok, so there's the next post…..hoped you guys liked it. Uh, yeah, not every post is going to be the next day, but I do have a bit written and I got like, 5 or 6 reviews on one day and I got excited! Uh, sorry if you thought anyone was OOC, but I personally liked this post, not as well as others (especially those by other people) but, there you go.

Uh, I was TOTTALLY serious when I asked for ideas on what to put in this fic. Please, if there is ANY thing you want to see, lemme know! And I want to see Vic (Cyborg) with someone in this, but I don't know who, so lemme know on that. :D.

Thanks for all the kind words! Reviews feed my muse (not to mention my ego):D So, please, please review! Thanks!