Don't they look rather grumpy? Grey one in particular. At least Green is up and ready. I think. Wait. Is he asleep? Seriously? It's eight in the morning. And how is he keeping balanced? Well then. Oh. The one with the mask looks like he might burst a blood vessel. What's all this about? Kids. I swear. Still. Focus.

"Am I right in guessing you were the one who gave Beast Boy coffee last week?" Robin finally asked, having to pause a few times before he could finally compose himself to simply speak. The strain in his voice was clear, even if he masterfully prevented it from showing on his face.

Oh. Um. Wait. That was last week. Why would they still be upset over something like that? Huh. Oh. Bruises? Never really noticed wounds on them the first time. Starstruck? Unlikely. Still. Useful to note. Oh. Here comes Grey. Is that a tome under her arm? Hope it's not magic. Magic sucks. Focus. Oh my. She's very grumpy. Um. Personal space? Please? Okay. Uh. Take a step back. Distance? Err. . .

"Never," Raven dictated, her voice as cold and foreboding as an approaching blizzard, utterly oblivious to Robin's and Cyborg's almost desperate hand-signals to stop or at least change her tone, "again."

Darker shadows? Oh god. Magic. Magic. Officer Foucault. Old days. Bad Days. Limbs twisted off like fucking cherry stems. Blood. Why was there so little? OiT. Officer in Trouble. Why? Barely a Lieutenant. Expecting sparkles and showmanship. Foucault. Mick. What happened? Darkness. The Deep Voice. Being pulled off a body. Looked like hamburger. Broken knuckles. Bone chips buried so deep in asphalt they had to re-layer it. The Magician? What happened? Demotion. The room. The frowns. The judging. To the last. What did they tell me? Blank. Why? Still, sympathy. Still have job. Still have the Badge. What did they remove? Why? No. Ribs ache. Why were ribs transplanted with metal? Wait. Why'd she take a step back? Do I look livid? No. Face is still composed. Focus. Calm down. Focus. Now is not the time to wake the Deep Voice. The Bad Days are over. Partially due to people like her. Calm. Peace. Even if she. . . No. Focus. Calm. Good.

"I'll make sure he doesn't get a cuppa, in that case. Thanks for letting me know," Inspector Grant murmured, his voice absolutely neutral as he eyed all nearby spots of darkness warily. Perhaps a second passed before he awkwardly reached out to grab Beast Boy's shoulder; there was a moment of hesitation as the Inspector noted the reflexive, almost protective, twitch from Raven, but the moment swiftly passed as he guided the semi-conscious Beast Boy into his car, nodded once more the assembled Titans in farewell, and drove away.

Why did she look at me like that? Especially after her little moment? Huh. Magic users. What can you say? Start off with noble intentions. End up scrubbing bloodstains out of concrete and worshipping Cthulhu. And that's the ones who aren't gifted. Ones who can actually cast spells without week long rituals? Light-poles with biological hazard signs surrounding them. Buildings where the stone looks like interlocking finger bones. Are interlocking finger bones. Things with too many eyes roaming the streets in search of Enlightenment. Missing orphans. Urgh. Oh. Bump. Should've gone slower. Still. Oh. Go figure. That woke him up. Huh. Less worried than I would've expected. Must be getting used to the interior of the cruiser. That's more depressing to think about than I care to admit.

"Is it already Sunday?" Beast Boy murmured in askance, trying to turn his face away from the light peeking through the windows but failing miserably. "It is, isn't it?"

You think? Might be a good idea to invest in a calendar. Or something.

"Yep. And lemme tell you, it looked like the happiest assembly ever," the Inspector replied with cheerful sarcasm as he rounded a corner. "If I ever take a life of crime, remind me not to start on an early Sunday. I suspect they would've torn my . . . would've dribbled me to prison," he added more somberly a moment later, only pausing to inject a far less grim assessment of the situation after examining his passenger's surprise.

Especially Grey. Though Blue and Multicolor would've probably raced her for the chance. It's far too early to be without Coffee. Orange seemed cheerful enough. Maybe. I can't tell with her. Focus. Kids. Really? Stop shifting all over the place. Seatbelts are supposed to keep you safe. Stop fighting it. Stop. STOP IT. Ow.

"You got me for a moment," Beast Boy yawned, stretching as he slowly woke himself out of his stupor. "Bet Raven was happy to get me out of her hair for a change, though."

Raven? What the hell does a bird have to do with thi—wait. Teammate. Oh gods. Is he talking about the doom and gloom one? Grey? God. I really need to study the newspaper more. Wait. Wasn't there another bird one? Focus. Huh. Still seems out of it.

"Not really," the Inspector said in reply. "Maybe a bit angry about the coffee, but that's about it. Seemed more worried than anything else. And a bit edgy about the entire situation, to be honest. And please stop tugging at your seatbelt; it's designed to save your life in case of an accident or sudden stop or, uh, something else like that."

Maybe she just figured that intimidating an officer of the law was a terrible idea. Huh. He's a lot more awake than he was a moment ago. Strange. That got his attention? Huh. Interesting. Wonder why?

"Dude, what? She's still upset about that?" Beast Boy whined. "I already apologized and everything! It was a week ago!"

Stole the words from my mouth.

"Oh, no. She seemed, uh, a touch upset with me, you see," the Inspector replied, seeming more than a little embarrassed. "She, uh, still let it drop relatively quickly, though. Which, admittedly, was nice."

Oh. Great. He's looking at me like I've just mutated in front of him. What in the world could it be that inspired this particular glance?

"Raven dropped the issue?" Beast Boy asked, his voice tinged with awe. "She almost never does that. Wowzers."

What?

"Why's that?" the Inspector asked, an eyebrow cocked in askance as he started pulling the vehicle into the police-station's parking lot.

Why do I suspect the news isn't going to be to my enjoyment?

"She just knows how to get a rise out of people, you know? Probably has to do with her being an Empath or something," Beast Boy replied blithely.

Oh god. Uh. Perhaps I slammed on the brakes too harshly. Good thing you wore your seatbelt, eh, Green? Wait. Empath. Shit. Does that mean . . . Oh hells. Wait. Empath doesn't mean Telepathy. Maybe. Probably didn't notice anything besides rage and terror. Not much of a relief but still something. Shit. Is that why she reacted when I reached towards Green? Damn. Still. Calm. Peace. Probably didn't do much more than ping on her emotional radar. Probably. Uh. Check on Green. Get out. Back seat. Good. Just a bit winded. Thank goodness.

"Sorry about that," the Inspector muttered as he half helped, half dragged the green teenager out of the seat and into the station. "Bit of a shock to realize your emotions are on clear display for all the world, you know? Uh. Yeah. Let's get your blood-test done with and get you back home, eh?"

Before I step on any more toes.

A/N: Thanks for the continued support, folks. And Ifeelblah? Good theory.