Author's Note: Here we are, chapter 2. I could have more to say, but I wrote this a bit ago and am watching 24. My faith in humanity plummets when I watch that show… Anyway, lets just say the fan has started up and it's spinning very quickly. Hopefully we'll get all the pieces on the board soon. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: It is not my intent to infringe any copyright, and I'm not making a profit. I don't own anything. So, we cool?

"It was impossible, Kori," said Rachel, her long fingers coiled tightly around a mug of herbal tea. "That's the only way I can describe it, impossible."

Her one and only friend, Kori Anders, sat across from her at the kitchen table, her fingers tapping lightly against a cup of mustard. This was one of Kori's many quirks to which Rachel had grown accustomed. Her long mass of auburn hair hung past the seat of the chair, falling over her golden shoulders unrestrained. A single ornamental braid hung in front of her right ear and she played with it occasionally, twisting it about her free hand. Her eyes were an unnatural looking shade of brown, as if she wore contacts of some sort, though Rachel knew she had excellent vision. She wore a light pink blouse that was utterly transparent, a small purple tank top (that did not reach past her ribcage) and a look of concern. Her light denim miniskirt was frayed at the edges and her pink toenails flashed vibrantly in plain white flip-flops.

"Was it, then…" she started, trailing off. Her intent eyes swept the room as if looking for the right word, then returned to Rachel's face. "As you hoped?" Rachel snorted.

"Yeah, I suppose "hoped" is the right term…"

The two had met in Gotham when Kori was drawn into an occult shop by an impressive array of prisms (protective wards). Rachel had had the fortune of explaining their use to her and, in doing so, opened herself to hear the girl's life story in a gush of gratitude. She said she was from here-and-there and had the most peculiar syntax Rachel had ever heard. No accent, just an odd way of arranging words. Kori had just moved to Gotham from California, following a boyfriend Rachel never actually met, but unfortunately circumstances prevented her from finding him at the moment. She had become quite terribly lost and these odd elevation devises were beginning to hurt her feet and she would very much appreciate it if her new friend could direct her to a good place to stay. She had money, but no idea how to use it and Rachel, in an uncharacteristic act of charity brought on by a mix of pity and genuine concern for the girl's safety, offered her couch. Kori accepted with gusto, calling her something sweet in a language Rachel had never heard before. The two had stuck together ever since.

They were as different as two women could be, each an utter paradox in their own way. Kori was very social and, though she had learned better than to bring any of them home, had many friends. Her looks were enough to get her into the most exclusive of clubs, acts which she perceived to be sheer altruism, and though her dress was far from modest, her behavior and self-image remained innocent. She was sensitive and bubbly and more than a little prone to extreme moods, but well intentioned and, oddly enough, as respectful of Rachel's oddities as Rachel was of hers.

Rachel, on the other hand, was cold and remote, as in control of her emotions as she was of her hands. She valued quiet solitude and would much rather get acquainted with new books as opposed to new people. Her tastes were dark and conservative, but she knew the art of being a woman as well as anyone and could wield it with deadly precision. Where Kori had utter faith in humanity and the goodness of the individual, Rachel decidedly withheld judgment until at least four people proved her disparaging view of the world wrong. So far, only Kori had been able to do that and, as a result, Rachel cherished her. And from time to time let her paint her toenails or braid her hair or engage in the "spa days of friendship building." Kori had been the one to provoke the first meeting with Rachel's new employers and, when she had moved to Jump for the job, Kori had accompanied her. The two, as always, shared an apartment. Separate rooms.

Rachel had gotten home sometime around 2:00 AM and found Kori waiting at the kitchen table expectantly, herbal tea already steeping. It was clear she'd been waiting since she herself had returned from one of her temp jobs, sensing something had gone poorly that day. The two had sat in silence for what seemed like hours before Rachel found herself ready to articulate the chaos in her mind.

"Natural creatures can not do what that thing did. Natural animals have one shape and one shape only. I don't know that demons can either. This… he can't exist."

"Did he harm you," Kori asked gently, her eyes soft, searching, and unyielding. They flicked down to her bandaged electrical burns. "Did he do that?"

"He scared the crap out of me and knocked me around some, but the burns are from the door. These people have the most ridiculous security, like nothing I've ever seen. If the shut down field did this," She waved her bandaged hand. "Then I'd hate to see what would happen to anything that tried to break through it while it was on."

She paused to give Kori a suspicious look. "What kind of people have you gotten me involved with?"

"I am sorry, friend Rachel," Kori said, hanging her head slightly. "They said they work for your government and were very polite. They explained their needs and I knew that instant you were qualified. I believed it would be… fun? Within your area of interest and thus an enjoyable experience for you."

"How did you even meet them," Rachel continued in a slightly accusatory tone. Kori looked sheepish.

"My boy who is also a friend, what is the phrase… my boyfriend, Dick. He is very knowledgeable."

Rachel raised a skeptical eyebrow. She'd known Kori for three years now and had never once met this boyfriend of hers, Dick Grayson. If it had been Rachel with the boyfriend, this wouldn't have seemed so odd, but Kori wanted to introduce her to the ducks in the park. When asked about this Dick, Kori became uncharacteristically evasive. It was concerning to say the least.

"And how much did you know about what kind of work I would be doing before you sent me into the lair of the beast?"

"Friend Raven," exclaimed Kori, knocking over he mustard as she reached for Rachel's hands, grasping them with ridiculous strength. "Surely you are aware I would never put you in danger if I knew otherwise. You must know I shall always protect you!"

"Don't call me that."

"What?"

"My name is Rachel, remember? You must not call me Raven. Someone might hear." Her grip loosened.

"I am sorry. It is difficult to remember all the time."

"I don't blame you, Kori, you couldn't have known," she said carefully, pulling her hands from Kori's grip. The woman appeared deflated and mildly hurt by the act, placing her fists delicately in her lap. "I'm just a little… unnerved. You know how I hate to admit that sort of thing."

"Does the tea not help?"

"The tea is wonderful, really. A little cold, but still good."

Her eyes lit up at that, her long, beautiful face bursting into a smile.

"Then I shall increase its temperature using microwave radiation and generate more with the stove device!" Rachel lifted her eyebrows as she yielded her mug, almost grinning. As she watched her bustle around in their alcove of a kitchen, her mind began to wonder.

The day had started out so slowly, then accelerated without any plan or warning. She could recall the details of her morning, her peppermint tea breakfast, her long and dull train ride to inner Jump made slightly better by her favorite rendition of the Wolfman legend, then the painfully awkward ride to the facility in the company car. The unabashed schmoozing, the unbridled compliments, and lavished praise of her expertise, gratitude that she had agreed to work with them on this project, assurances that her safety would be guaranteed, yada yada yada. Then came the security briefing, the swearing to secrecy, the briefing on protocol, etc. Finally, the ambiguous people in black suits or white lab coats had explained why she was there.

Their subject was an oddity, no doubt, but not just a genetic one. Its mutations were… downright unnatural and their science had found nothing that could have given rise to such a creature. They'd been at it for over a year and, rather than discount any option as too foolish to peruse, thought it best to call in an expert on the unnatural. Apparently, Dr. Roth came highly recommended (Rachel wondered how that was) and, even if the creature did not turn out to be demonic by nature, she could still be of great assistance in getting its cooperation. They had been… unsuccessful in that respect, despite their best efforts and persuasive methods (Rachel wondered about that too). So far, samples had only been obtained from its innate form. There was no further elaboration; Rachel cut them off before they rambled any further. She wanted to see the subject for herself before investing any serious effort into the project. The scientists begrudgingly accepted and sent their best slave labor with clearance to take her to the specimen. She'd creeped out the intern for her own amusement, and proceeded to her encounter…

It was fragmented after that.

"What is he like?" Rachel almost started as Kori set a steaming mug in front of her.

"What?"

"This being you are to study. What is he like? Does he have a name?"

"Kori, he's a scientific specimen, professional detachment is not only recommended, but necessary. If he has a name, I should not know about it."

"Dick says they have been calling him… Beast Boy."

"How original," commented Rachel sarcastically.

"It must be terrible," she continued, gazing off to some distant point. "Trapped there, alone, without friends or family. Caged like some kind of animal."

"We're all animals," said Rachel coldly. "Some of us are just more trained then others. Why are we talking about this? You act like he's human or something."

"One shouldn't need to be human to be treated as such," Kori responded, sitting down across from her. Her fingers brushed the wood lightly as they ran along the edge of the table. Kori was sad, her compassion for this creature she'd never seen filling the room like fog. "If one has feelings and thoughts, that should be enough."

Rachel didn't answer.

"I wonder how he came to be, this shape shifter," Kori continued, oblivious of Rachel's critical stare. "Was he born like this? Did he have a family? Where are they now? Dick has told me little of these things-"

"Why does your boyfriend know anything? Is he involved?"

She flushed and hurried to occupy herself, bending to clean up her spilled mustard. "No, not at all."

"Why are you lying to me, Kori?"

"Please, friend, I would never-"

"Yes you would," she cut Kori off, crossing her legs and looking into her tea frigidly. "If you thought it was somehow for the best. Which would primarily happen if Mr. Grayson told you it was, for some reason or another."

Kori paused, bighting her lower lip. Her skin seemed to shimmer in the harsh fluorescent light, a gleam of green in the whites of her eyes. She reached out and picked up the glass of mustard, fortunate none of it had actually spilled out.

"The head of security is Dick's friend. His name is Dr. Victor Stone and he is not supposed to speak of his job to outsiders." She turned to look at Rachel, her eyes glittering. "You will not tell anyone I have told you this? I could not stand to betray Dick or Victor's confidence in trusting you."

"I'm not going to rat you out, Kori," said Rachel, still looking at her tea. "I just have this feeling I'm involved in something larger than a research job and would prefer it if you were honest with me."

"I'm sorry," Kori hung her head, her auburn hair falling over her shoulders in silken locks. Rachel rolled her eyes at the dramatics, sipping her tea. She was well aware that Kori had secrets, perhaps even as many as Rachel herself, and wouldn't pry too deep as long as Kori did the same. One day, when it was safe, the honesty they both desired would emerge like life in the spring. One day, when it was safe, Kori would understand Rachel's fascination with demons. And hopefully on that day, Rachel would have the privilege of meeting Mr. Grayson and discovering exactly how it was he knew so much. Today was not that day and they both knew it. Today, like all days, they simply had to trust each other. It drove Rachel crazy.

"Is there anything you can tell me," she sighed, swirling her tea and sipping it again. Kori perked up immediately, as she always did, smiling in embarrassment.

"I admittedly do not know much; I am not directly involved myself," she started, fumbling for words. She wanted to disclose everything, but the web of conspiracy in which she'd somehow become entangled prevented her. It was in Kori's nature to be truthful, but also loyal and reliable. Anything she could say, she would without hesitation when properly provoked. "But from what Dick and Victor have told me… I have formed some of my own conclusions. Conclusions which, I believe, they share."

Rachel sat back in her seat, gazing at Kori intently. She was still being unusually cryptic, as if this entire scheme had been ticking for a long time now and Rachel had only just been brought on board. It was interesting.

"But I mustn't share them with you now."

"He spoke to me, Kori. When I let him out he thanked me. In English. What kind of animal does that? What kind of people keep something like that?"

"It is important that you form your own opinion of this… work… and the people it involves. It is important that you make your own decisions, unbiased by me," Kori responded slowly, swallowing anxiously. There was something she was just dying to tell her, but didn't know how to say it. Rachel sighed again.

"Well that's just fantastic."

"Friend Rachel," said Kori in a blur. "I know you do not think much of your own morality, but you are an honorable person. I believe you would be capable of many good things, great things, if given the opportunity. Please look upon this as just such an opportunity."

"It's not like you to be so mysterious, Kori," Rachel said, folding her arms. "Just what are you trying to say?"

"I wish to say… I wish to ask you to trust your instincts. And to, how do you say it, keep an open mind."

"About?"

"Beast Boy."

For the second time that week, Dr. Rachel Roth stood outside the beast's cage. The flash drive that serviced as a key was clutched tightly in her hand, hovering just outside of its port. She'd had to practically fight her way back in here, declining an escort and ultimately threatening to abandon the entire operation if they didn't allow her to proceed. This time she was prepared, she'd said. There wouldn't be any repeats of the previous incident, she'd said. Besides, she was a hands on type of researcher. She needed to establish a relationship with this creature, be it animal or demon, and to do that she needed to be alone with him. That may have been a slight fabrication with respect to the pure science aspect, but she didn't trust these people. And based on his previous treatment, she was pretty sure the changeling Beast Boy was none too inclined to trust them either.

She swallowed, hesitant. Rachel was nor one to scare easily; her primary work involved demons, for goodness sake. But the sight of that, for lack of a better word, man, turning into a dinosaur… It was unnerving to say the least. She thought she'd been prepared for anything, she'd thought nothing could surprise her. She'd been wrong and that was as scary as any monster. Rachel was admittedly nervous about this second encounter. What surprised were in store for her this time? What else did he have up its sleeve?

Then again, if he had wanted to kill her, he would have done so when she was pinned. If he had wanted to hurt her or warn her, then why hadn't he left so much as a mark? True, he had proven more than dangerous, yet none of those men actually died. That and, for one bizarre reason or another, Kori seemed to believe he had redeeming qualities.

She was being irrational and that was the first step to bad science. None of this speculation meant anything; all that mattered was the truth. And to find the truth, she would need to be objective.

Steeling her gaze, Rachel inserted the flash drive and waited for the door to open. She swept over the threshold like an ice queen, her flat black boots make no noise as she passed. The door closed fully behind her with a fatalistic grind and she once again faced the subject. His shackles had been replaced, as had his white garments (she suspected the other scientists were uncomfortable with anything remotely human shaped sitting naked in their vault). White bandages wrapped his arms where the steel had cut them, stained with patches of brown-red.

When she entered he glanced over at her with mild interest, pointed ears twitching. She gazed back, expressionless. "They" had cautioned her extensively on this creature's wiles. "It" was cunning, "it" would try and trick her, and "it" most certainly shouldn't be trusted. Based on his previous behavior, she had no doubt he would use her for his own gain in an instant. Yet something in his faceted green eyes spoke of intelligence and pain. She wasn't sure whether she believed "them" or not.

"Hello," she tried coolly, keeping her distance. "Beast Boy" blinked at her, then returned his attention to his fingernails. He picked at them with utter boredom, pointedly turning his back on her. It was both an insult and a challenge. She paused, not sure how to continue. "How are you after last week's little adventure? Still a little sore, I would think."

His eyes narrowed in indignant comprehension, but remained fixed on the cuticle of his right index finger. He was very careful with how he moved his body, communicating primarily through the potency of his gaze. His face was animated and expressive and very personable. He was undoubtedly thinking as he "groomed," undoubtedly planning.

The same could be said of a Boston terrier, she chided herself. Scientists who had been working with this creature for months now were unconvinced of his nature, and the gift of speech hardly proved personhood. A lifetime dealing with real monsters had taught her that. No, Rachel had to stay impartial. Guilty until proven innocent, demonic until proven human.

"Look, I don't have time to waste with games. If you are truly an animal then I will treat you as such, but believe me if you have any semblance of intelligence you do not want that."

He snorted, throwing her a skeptical look. A spray of red speckled the white floor and he paused, the back of one green hand whipping under his nose. He made a move to pinch his nostrils then, noticing Rachel watching, dropped his hand and rolled to his toes. Something that sounded an awful lot like a low growl rumbled in his chest as he squatted. A brown-red streak shone on green skin in the sterile light as a steady drip of blood began to fall from his nose. It pooled on the white floor, glinting vividly.

Rachel, clearly annoyed, dug around in her pocked for a moment and fished out a black handkerchief purposed for cleaning glasses. It was truly obnoxious that she'd have to buy a new one. She started towards the shape shifter purposefully. He growled even louder, rocking back onto the balls of his feet and crouching lower. His pointed ears were pressed back against his skull and his white fangs were bared in a snarl. Blood from his nose streaked their pearly surface, creating a most intimidating display. Rachel hardly flinched, continuing her advance.

"Cut it out," she said sharply, squatting down directly in front of him and holding out the cloth. "You're getting blood everywhere." He eyed her with suspicion, his hair visibly rising on his scalp. In what many would consider a reckless move, Rachel grabbed the back of his head and forced his face into her handkerchief. He emitted a sharp noise that could have been "Hey!" and jerked back, his teeth snapping threateningly. Rachel made a noise of disapproval and pinched the pressure points at the base of his skull.

"Like I said," she hissed into his ear. "If you are an animal then I will treat you like one. But I heard you speak and I know there's more to you than that."

His eyes whipped to her, then up to the ceiling. Rachel kept hers on him, unwilling to divide her attention and risk loosing the potency of her words.

"I am not one of them, do you hear me? I will not lie to you and say I'm your friend, but I have my own agenda and it involves getting to know you. As a person."

His eyes moved back to her in sheer disbelief and horror, like a parent who'd spotted an alligator at the petting zoo. Then he did something past unexpected. Faster than she thought a human could move, his hand slipped to the back of her head and he pulled her in, pressing her ear to his mouth.

"Are you crazy," he hissed, not moving his mouth and speaking directly into her hair. "Like, seriously, are you insane? They can hear you. They're watching."

Rachel paused for a moment, her brow knitting. She could feel the warmth of his hand, the tickle of his breath, and restrained power in his arm. Elements of a man. Yet at the same time the clawed tips of his fingers pressed into her scalp and the scent of blood clogged her nostrils. She was in danger, that much was clear. Danger of what or from whom… that was less clear. Wetness began to soak the fingertips that held her hanker chief.

"Are they now," she breathed back, her breath tickling his ear. The hand on the back of his neck slid to his shoulder and she pushed him back carefully. For a brief moment their eyes met and she saw the most peculiar mixture of relief and suspicion. Rachel removed the cloth from his face, folded it into more nose-sized quarters, then pinched it over his nostrils. He stiffened, but didn't pull back, his eyes wide and unblinking. His body remained rigidly set in a squatting position, as if chiseled out of green marble instead of flesh.

"Shhh," she said in a soft voice. "It's all right. You're all right." The sudden change in her demeanor, the high pitch of her voice, and the unexpected caress of her hand through his hair, caught him off guard. Rachel paid no attention to his surprise. Her eyes swept over the ceiling, settling on a small flashing red light. She gave it a hard scowl, recalculating in her head. Caught between a rock and a hard place, and not for the last time on this particular quest, she thought. So, the shifter was intelligent, as she'd suspected. And there was no chance of him cooperating as long as the "higher ups" were in the loop.

Fine, she wasn't invested in their research anyway. This was still a simple task: find out if this was a demon shifter and discover what he knew. From what she could gather he didn't strike her as the demonic type, but that was no indication. In her mind, that just made him potentially more insidious. Which meant it was just that much more important that he trust her. They were going to be very close, she and "Beast Boy."

"Don't worry boy." She spoke as if to a dog and he raised one inquiring eyebrow at her tone. "I'll take care of it."