Author's Note: Another chapter! One proceeding the long awaited reuniting of our three heroes! What could be ahead? Conflict? Love? Murder? Someone we all know dying? A randomly incorporated sword fight? Well, I can confidently assure that all but one will take place before this tale is over. Until the, please enjoy!

Raven had been in the United States for about six hours now and already she was missing France. In the six hours since she stepped off that plane, she'd lost luggage, lost her passport, lost her patience, and wasn't too far from losing her sanity. Jesus, sometimes it even felt like people were purposefully wondering out of their way to inconvenience her life. Every single frizzy-haired, Hawaiian shirt wearing tourist was in her face waving around brochures and asking for directions, every single cigarette smoking scum-bag leaning on the wall was whistling cat-calls, and every single perky, suite wearing attendant hiding behind a desk was acting as incompetent as humanely possible whenever documentation was handed over. Her phone call to Beast Boy hadn't been an irritated demand for a ride; it had been an honest to god plea for help. At this rate, she was going to get arrested for being an illegal telepath with a daughter of mass distraction.

And to think…all of this because of a stupid dream. A vague, back-glancing, forlorn dream. Hmph, oh well, there was little she could do about it now. Raven and Adeline were here in America now so she might as well get used to it.

To help…she bought a cup of coffee.

She was seated at a table, both her hands locked protectively around her caffeinated purchase with four opened and crumpled creamers scattered around it. The sign had said that it was French Roast…but quite honestly it tasted more like a cup of spiked hot water in a Styrofoam cup. In the past twenty minutes she'd taken two sips. Coffee may have been pride in France…but in America, it just seemed like some form of a portable human battery. Caffeine came first, flavor came second. She couldn't even force herself to finish, so instead found herself just swirling it into a French Roast whirlpool with a very uninterested huff. Adeline was just a couple feet away, standing patiently in line for the McDonald's line for her Happy Meal, casting occasional glances back to her mother and sometimes waving. The tables around them were crowded with different colored people and clothing, the floors littered with luggage and garbage. Somewhere in that background, a baby had been screaming for the past ten minutes.

A group of young boys, no older than twenty a piece sat snickering at the table next to hers. There were four of them, each one wearing some form of excessive metal fashion accessory and clothes two sizes too big. Every so often one of them would raise his head to get a good peek at her, then instantly go back to chattering with the lowered heads of his buddies. She could hear bits and pieces of their conversation through the buzz of the terminal, most of it accompanied by snickers and elbow poking. "Betcha she's taken…Naw she isn't…Go talk to her…Fuck no, dude, you go talk to her…Betcha twenty bucks you wouldn't last a minute...Check out that ruby on her forehead, dude, sexy stuff…She's probably from India…Naw, her boobs are too big…And she'd probably have AIDS…Seriously, twenty bucks says none of you can't keep conversation goin' for a minute..." After a moment, one of the bolder ones finally stood up with plenty of cheering whispers from his friends. He straightened himself and leaned back to his table, whispering something none-too-discretely back to one of his friends that sounded a bit too much like 'Gimme two minutes and I'll be able to tell you what color panties she's wearin'.'

She glanced back, boredly as the boy got the thumbs up from his friends. He was short, sporting a backwards base-ball cap, a busted set of converse and a rather plain, acne scarred face that sleeked into an expression of perky jejunity as he gave her body a good once-over. His pants were unnecessarily baggy so much so that if it wasn't for an oversized T-shirt that hung down low, she'd probably be stuck looking into the crotch of his red striped boxers as soon as he sauntered over. Raven sighed and went back to staring at her coffee as the boy cleared his throat, giving a half smile as he collectively began to stroll towards her table. One of his buddies stood up on his chair and whistled at him, calling "Go get 'er Steve!".

The boy stopped and turned around, drawing a quick hand across his throat in a severe 'kill-it' gesture. He was taking this one seriously, Raven mused. He must really want to see what color underwear she was wearing. His friend laughed and plopped down in his seat, holding up his watch and pointing to it. The boy named Steve game him a thumbs up and turned back to Raven.

She said nothing.

"Sorry to interrupt," He said with wondering half-lidded eyes. "But I couldn't help but noticing that you haven't touched your coffee for over ten minutes. Does it taste bad or anything?"

Raven quietly ignored him, although through the corner of her eye she could see the rest of the gang all leaning out from their table, snickering and bobbing their heads. The boy continued, coolly confident. "Cuz it's not really a surprise if it does taste awful, y'now. Especially since the shop in this place uses toilet water in their coffee." She said nothing, but the boy named Steve continued in a hush voice, as if she'd just put a hand over her mouth and gasped. "Seriously, I'm not kidding here! I've been in the bathroom taking a piss when I saw some Mexican employee just walk into one of the stalls with an empty coffee mug and boom, came out two minutes later with it full. I'm tellin' you, the airport is no place to go if you're looking for good coffee." He paused again, leaning in a bit farther than he should have. "Now, on the other hand, there's a nice little coffee shop at the bottom of Third Avenue that makes coffee the way the it really should be made. Would you be interested in trying again there a little later with me? Eh?" He winked at her. "My treat."

Raven continued to absently stir her coffee. "If you want, I'll let you talk to me for two minutes so you don't lose your bet you have going with your friends."

Instantly the boy's table, who'd been eagerly eavesdropping, all recoiled with a chorus of 'Oooooh's until the boy named Steve whirled around to silence them. He turned back to Raven and her rather unimpressed stare. "Naw, don't pay any attention to them." He said, waving a hand in their direction. "Some stupid bet isn't why I came over here." He paused then leaned in, tilting his head with a subtle eyebrow bob. "I actually did it because you looked…sophisticated."

Again, Raven didn't answer. The boy named Steve frowned only for a moment then narrowed his eyes at an idea for a change in subject. Quietly, he leaned in to look her in the eye, pointing at her forehead. "I noticed that you have one of those ruby thingies there. That means you're from India, right?"

"Azarath." She said flatly.

"Cool." He responded, completely unfazed. "That's that city in Europe right? Sounds like you come from pretty far away to come all the way to Jump City."

"You could say that." She responded, playing with the lip of the coffee cup with her index finger.

"You must be pretty smart to be able to learn two languages. How many can you speak?"

"A few."

Getting slightly flustered by her minimal syllabic answers and the occasional curly fry being tossed at the back of his head by his cackling friends; the boy named Steven finally shrugged and extended his hand, once again changing battle tactics. "Well, in case you were wondering; my name's Stephen Malbery. You can call me Steve if you want…"

"Raven. Pleasure." Raven took his hand without even looking at him. His hand was warm and sweaty, with a relatively weak grip being compensated for by squeezing a bit too hard.

"Raven…" He repeated thoughtfully, still shaking her hand. "Like the bird, raven?"

"Sure." She said.

"Do you have a last name, Miss Raven like the bird?"

"No."

"How about a number I can reach you at?"

"Not really, no."

The boy named Steve bit his lip, putting his weight from one leg to the other and finding that he was equally uncomfortable on each. The same friend from his table stood up again putting both hands over his mouth. "She doesn't want yah, Steve!"

The boy named Steve, let out a quick sigh and put both his hands down on her table, leaning forward a bit too far. "Look, Raven." He whispered. "I think that it's awfully mean of you to just blow me off like this. Can you at least let me buy you another coffee? That stuff must be shit-cold by now."

"No thank you."

He sighed again, sharply this time. Raven glanced over and met his gaze, noting his irritation with a tired, sigh. The last thing she needed was to start a commotion. "Listen, what's your name again?"

Instantly, he perked up. "Stephen! Stephen Malbery!"

"Okay, Stephen Malbery," She said patiently, folding her hands and staring directly up at him. "I'd like to tell you something you may not have realized while you were talking to your pals over there. I have no interest in any of you."

"O-ho…I think I get it." He leaned in and winked. "You're not a lesbian are you?"

An irritated sigh. "No, I'm-"

"Cuz it's perfectly okay if you are. Quite frankly I think it's hot!"

Christ, this guy is worse than Beast Boy! "No, Stephen, just listen to-"

"Is your girlfriend anywhere's around here? I'd be kick-ass if I see you two make ou-"

Suddenly, a Happy McMeal plopped down on the table and a little girl slid happily into her seat. "Hi Momma!" Adeline said happily.

Everyone at both tables stopped talking.

The boy named Steve slowly glanced from Raven to Adeline with the expression of a man who'd just realized he'd sat on the narrow end of a splintered broom-stick. Finally, the mental gears aligned themselves correctly so the slow recognition of the fact that the hot chick he'd been ogling at for the past hour at had already gone 'round all three bases' with another dude and that the other dude was most likely still around. He didn't have anything to say so he quickly stood up, so quickly in fact that his elbow caught the lip of Raven's coffee, emptying their contents onto the crotch of his pants, and despite the fact that it'd been sitting out for a quite a while, the contents were still hot enough to make him give off a high-pitched "FUCK!".

Adeline calmly removed a burger and took a small, little bite, glancing up at the boy named Steve with a nonchalant interest as he danced around with a wafts of steam billowing from his crotch, his pants which were nearly riding down to his knees. "Who's the guy with the red underwear, momma?"

Raven wish she didn't laugh right at that moment, but something about the simplicity of Adeline's expression as she chewed absently away at her burger with her little feet swinging underneath her chair just made it so damn impossible. It was a belly-laugh for sure, full and hearty. One that she hadn't felt in such a long time. Funny how it just took an 11-year old girl, a boy named Steve, and a cup of bathroom water French Roast to spark it. The boy named Steve didn't seem to notice. He was too busy swiping a napkin across the front of his pants as if they were one fire; his eyes sweeping the room for any potential husbands to come roaring out from the McDonald's line to kick his sorry ass through a window.

Adeline simply blinked and took another bite as a couple of people from surrounding tables slowly glanced over their seats to see what the commotion was all about. Raven didn't really care. It was all too damn funny to care. Despite everything, Raven once again getting used to living in America.

The boy named Steve was retreating for the stalls, his gait that of a constipated penguin and each step accompanied by a hissing 'fuck' or 'damn'. More than several heads watched him go, Steve's table full of friends laughing nearly as hard as Raven was as he waddled by. By the looks of it, the boy named Steve wasn't going to be giving her any more trouble today.

Raven continued laughing, leaving Adeline to sit there wondering just what the hell she did that was so funny. Finally, she just gave up on it and went back to her Mcburger with a content shrug.

After a moment, she heard her cell phone go off. Still chuckling slightly Raven removed it and glanced at the I.D.

GARFIELD LOGAN

As quickly as it had come, Raven stifled her laugh. In less than a moment, her phone was to her ear and her tone back to the deadpan which her green companion knew so well. Beast Boy wasn't going to talk to her when she was happy. She'd called him over an hour ago and he was just now getting hold of him. He was going to have to answer to Raven as he knew her best.

"Beast Boy? Where the hell are you?"

A hesitation, then, a rather unsure almost feminine voice answered. A voice that wasn't Beast Boy's. The reception was grainy, but in the background, Raven could hear what sounded like car running and a lot of noisy car horns beeping angrily. "Uhm…no. This isn't Mr. Logan…this is Harry Hesmond. I'm Mr. Logan's assistant."

Raven blinked. "Wha? Why isn't Beast Boy returning this call?"

Another unsure pause. "Well…Mr. Logan was in the middle of a party. He…uh…he was busy. He told me to come pick you up, but to find out where you were first. So…where are you?"

Again, Raven could only blink. "Wait, how did he know I needed to be picked up? How did he even know I was in America?"

"He…uhm, said that you wouldn't call him unless you were coming over to visit. He wanted me to bring you a ride in his personal limo."

Raven slunk back in her chair, pressing her tongue against her cheek. God damn lucky guess, Beast Boy.

"Look, what is your name again? Harold?"

"Harry. Harry Hesmond….you can call me Hex, though. A lotta people do."

"Okay, fine, Hex. I'm at the airport; you can pick my daughter and me up in the lobby."

Over the line Raven could hear Hex call to someone. "They're at the airport, Dunbar; stop reading your book and step on it!"

This was quickly followed by an unhappy sigh, a very sudden revving of an engine and a dangerously thick squealing of rubber accompanied by angrier car horns and yapping pedestrians.

Raven ran her tongue unhappily against her teeth. She knew that Beast Boy had snatched a gig in showbiz after the Titans split but what could he be doing that'd get him a personal secretary and, by the sounds of it, a personal limo driver? Whatever it was, though, it probably meant that Beast Boy was going to lay down the bragging rights he earned by proving Raven wrong. (Right before she left for France she'd apparently made a bet with him stating that the highpoint in his entire showbiz career would be refilling David Letterman's coffee cup. Looks like she'd have to chalk one up to easily entertained societies who love green, pointy-eared comedians.) Still, though, a green pointy-eared comedian was not why Raven had come to America. In truth it was a six and a half foot tall cyborg who didn't answer the telephone at his house for hours on end, despite the fact that Raven had kept it ringing throughout most of the morning on her flight over. Maybe Hex somehow knew where he was…or at least his boss.

"Listen, Hex," She said. "Do you know anyone named Cyborg? Your boss, Beast Boy knows who he is. Has he ever mentioned him in the past?"

Instantly, the voice on the other end of the line perked up like a flute. "You mean Mr. Stone? The Mr. Stone? Oh, yes, I know who he is! He's the big, good looking, muscled guy, right?"

From somewhere on the other side of the line, Raven could have sworn she heard what must have been Dunbar mutter "Queer…" under his breath before Hex's voice once again filled the line.

"What do you need to know about him?"

"Well is he all right? I haven't been able to reach his phone all day."

"Oh." Hex replied rather bluntly. "His apartment got blown up."

"What?"

"Yeah, his entire room exploded."

Raven faltered for a moment, seriously considering laughing at this statement when she remembered her dream. The dream of fire, music, and meaning. It was a stretch alright…but it had been the only reason why she trudged across the country in search of him. She sighed. Until she knew if this guy Hex was telling the truth or not she'd give him the benefit of the doubt. "Was he hurt? Is he okay? What did it?"

Hex's voice rang out again, riddled with girlish admiration. "Oh, they're still trying to figure it all out…but Mr. Stone was more than okay. Mr. Logan was giving him a ride back to his apartment from the police station during a big rainstorm! And when we reached his apart-"

"The police station?"

"He completely saved Mr. Logan's life! It was incredible!"

"Wait, wait a minute there Hex! Why was Cyborg at the police station?"

"Oh…I dunno…suspected of a murder or something. But, as I was saying, he was just about to get to his apartment when 'boom'! The entire thing just completely explodes and this gigantic fireball comes screeching out into the street and Mr. Stone totally saved Mr. Logan's life! I was in the limo with Dunbar when we see-"

People in France always knew when to end conversations, especially when the conversation became one sided waste of oxygen. Raven didn't like it when peopled talked anyways…so she was going to pick this up with the appropriate person at the appropriate time.

"Look…Hex, can you just tell Dunbar or whoever to hurry up and get here? I would really like to…you know, get to Cyborg's place."

"I already told you. It's completely blown up."

Raven sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine, then where is he now?"

"Eh, I don't really know. Mr. Logan wants him to stay over at his house until he gets back up onto his feet." Again his voice picked up. "And he also said that I'll be able to come and visit him!"

"Then where are we going to stay?"

Aside from a prolonged 'uhhh', Hex didn't answer. He remained silent until Dunbar whispered something to him like a teacher prompting a kid on stage, to which Hex immediately responded. "Oh, yeah. He said that you are free to stay at his house as well. He said that it'd be like a reunion or something. I suppose that's where you'll be staying…I mean…if that's okay with you."

Raven could only shake her head, pressing a palm against her forehead. "You know what? Fine. Yeah, that'll work. Just pick us up as soon as possible."

"Already then. It was nice talking to you! And don't worry, Dunbar drives fast!"

Raven snapped shut her cell phone and pocketed it with another temple-rubbing sigh.

"You have that look again, momma." Adeline whispered, looking sheepishly up over her Happy Meal.

Raven huffed and lazily slapped the table with both her palms. "Yes. Mommy is probably going to have this look until I see Uncle Cyborg again, sweety."

"Was that Mr. Beast Boy on the phone?" She asked, struggling with a small plastic bag encompassing a strawberry bratz doll from the bottom of her happy McMeal bag. (In all truthfulness, Adeline secretly had a very small interest in toys of fast food restaurants. The only reason she'd even get them was because she didn't want to hurt their feelings. More times then not, she'd end up leaving it with another little girl so she could play with it instead.)

Raven noted her daughter's struggles and leaned forward, plucking the plastic bag from her. "No." She sighed wrestling it open and tossing the toy to Adeline. "It was someone who works for Mr. Beast Boy. He says that we're going to be staying at Mr. Beast Boy's house for a while, okay? Keep your eyes peeled for a limo."

Adeline instantly dropped the four inch plastic doll, glancing quickly up to her mother. "But I thought we were staying with Uncle Cyborg! Is he okay?"

"Yes, yes, don't worry; Uncle Cyborg is going to be living there too. It's going to be…uh…family reunion. It'll be fun."

If it isn't a complete disaster…

"You don't sound like you're looking forward to it."

"That's because I'm tired. I'm still trying to get over the jetlag." She furrowing her brow, she leaned towards her daughter. "Aren't you tired?"

Adeline glanced up innocently. "No, not really." She said. "Should I be?"

Raven shook her head, amused. She was just like her father. Always floating against the norm and always so clueless about it. God, she loved that about her daughter just as she had loved it in her father. If there was one thing Raven liked in a person, it was a deep sense of originality. Someone who takes a left when everyone else sticks to the right. Someone you can listen to without knowing how the conversation ends. People unlike the boy named Steve…and, come to think of it, most of the male population she'd had the misfortune to stumble across. Even in France, although a little more subtly, Raven had noticed that the men's eyes still wondered just like they did in America. Whenever she'd bend down to retrieve something at a grocery store, a little red flag would go up in her head stating the prepubescent cashier was getting his own little gratuitous peep show. Raven had told herself that it was because she was sort of pretty, but, as most of the other men she met had insisted, because she was downright beautiful. Although she'd already had a child, Raven was a woman in the prime of her life.

Just now approaching twenty seven and sporting a physique that would make a woman's head turn should she walk by. She wasn't voluptuous by any means, and quite honestly, Raven had always thought that the body she had now was just a taller version of her own as a Teen Titan…though many passing males had insisted through ear-wide grins that she was first-class model material. What a troublesome inconvenience. By all means Raven had not gone out of her way to achieve her current physique; once Adeline was born her main priority was the well-being and safety of her daughter instead of her butt. However, because she was stuck with a body other women would kill for; Raven was forced to forcibly consult her feelings on finding…someone else.

The subject itself was one touchy enough for her to comfortably ignore for nearly ten years with not trouble at all; keeping herself preoccupied as long as she had baby Adeline to constantly call her attention…but little Adeline was no longer a baby. She didn't need her mother looking over her shoulder every two seconds anymore. She could cut her own vegetables, she could sleep in her own bed, and she could read her own books in her own room. After the ninth year passed, Raven began to notice how utterly alone she if Adeline wasn't there at her side. Whenever she'd glance up from her book…the room would still be empty. Whenever she'd go to bed…the pillow next to her would still be unoccupied. Her books and writings couldn't smother this fact forever. Gradually but surely, she grew to hate being alone. Hated living in their big house, hated the empty chairs at the dinner table, and hated feeling those unoccupied sheets with her legs in her big empty bed.

Raven needed company.

She needed companionship.

She needed…to truly live again.

Those had been the last things Adeline's father had said to her over eleven years ago.

Live Raven, truly…live.

To live is to be happy…to be happy is to love…to love is to have someone. Raven had Adeline…but Adeline couldn't warm a bed or provide a sense of honest desire for her company that went beyond a mother/daughter relationship. Only Adeline's father had been able to do that. And he was dead. Eleven years had passed and during that time the only person to share Raven's bed had been Adeline when she was eight years old and susceptible to bad dreams.

Raven huffed to herself and snatched up one of Adeline's French fries and smiled, allowing her concerns to drift. She didn't need to worry about that now. She was in America. Privacy meant nothing here. She couldn't be alone even if she wanted to be.

She glanced over at a large clock hanging on the wall of the terminal. 5 p.m., right on the hour. Out of the bathroom, his face and pants still looking rather pissed, the boy named Steve sauntered by her table, casting a resentful half-lidded glare in her direction as he passed towards his friends. Raven returned his gaze with a knowing smile, letting him know with a slight nod of her head that no matter how ruff and tumble he acted now, she'd always remember him as that ass that spilt coffee on his crotch.

Adeline nudged her mother's arm. "Momma." She stated simply. "There's a limo pulling by the window."

Raven furrowed her brow and glanced over the back of her seat. Sure enough, there was an over sized, steely back limousine parallel parking at a rather surprising speed into the lot with a loud screech of brakes. Raven consulted it for a moment, the shook her head. "Forget it Adeline, that can't be ours. It takes at least twenty minutes to get way out-"

The door third from the back clicked open and a lanky, sunny blonde young man stepped out, consulting the crowds with gigantic black-rimmed glasses; an unnecessarily large tie swinging in the breeze. In the driver's seat of the limo, a rather elderly gentleman removed a book and promptly began reading, leaving the car idling despite the chorus of irritated car horns behind it.

It was them alright. Dunbar and Hex. Christ they got here fast.

"Adeline." Raven said cleanly. "Get your bags ready, we're going."

Adeline glanced back up. "In the limo?"

"Yes." Raven said, snatching up her bags and slinging them over her shoulders while giving Dunbar a narrow eyed stare. "And be sure you buckle up once we get inside."

Ending Author's Note: Hooray! Raven's back in America and she's still holding onto that reservation for the heartbreak hotel! Don't worry; next chapter will most likely have the big reunion that has taken too many chapters to achieve. As for Raven's feelings; well, ten years is a long time not to 'have' somebody of your own. I think that anyone in that situation would start feeling a need for companionship eventually. Question is….WILL SHE FIND IT BEFORE TOTAL ANNIHILATION??? Please review 'n stuff.