Panty Raid

"Garfield."

The emphasis on the first syllable somehow transformed the word into a growl packed to the brim with infernal menace. It left a trail of cosmic coldness in the very air it travelled through as it rolled threateningly over the two boys, chilling their blood and hydraulic fluid with the promise of unending pain and eternal damnation that was barely kept constrained within its few letters.

Interrupted in the middle of a game and not understanding, Cyborg glanced at his friend, then at Raven. His face went ashen; he swallowed and tried to make himself as small as possible. Not an easy thing to do when you're a six-feet-eight, half-ton mass of titanium alloy with some organics thrown in for good measure.

It would be difficult for someone that didn't know Raven to imagine her looking threatening. Her short, slim figure and striking beauty gave her an almost fragile appearance; wrapped up in her preferred hooded cloak she recalled mystery to an unfamiliar mind rather than intimidation.

But there was something much scarier than the four blazing red eyes, something more frightening than the snarling rows of razor-sharp, shark-like teeth, something more disturbing than the wisps of black magic braiding themselves into tendrils that wound together into tentacles, swaying slowly around her, their tips quivering with delicious longing to wrap themselves around living flesh and rip, rend and tear. It was the aura of pure, almost elemental rage that flowed out of her in an impalpable yet overwhelming tide, strangling every rationality and clearing every consciousness nearby of any thought except for a wish to either flee in fear or freeze in panic.

The green changeling gulped. He may, just may have gone a bit too far this time. Like several thousand miles too far.

"Heh… Hi, Rae! Um… Whassup?"

The four eyes focused on him. Cyborg half-expected to see a beam of concentrated fury fulminate out of them and incinerate his best friend, leaving only an unpleasant odor and a handful of ash on the couch.

"Give. It. Back." A part of Cyborg's mind wondered idly how was it possible for Raven's voice to be as cold as a dead comet while blazing with the ferocity of a star's core at the same time.

"Give what back?" Beast Boy asked with the most innocent and charming grin he could muster.

"Now." The reply was a soft whisper, almost unheard by the ears, but sensed loudly and understood perfectly by that instinct that we all have, to curl up in fetal position and shiver in paralyzed terror.

"Uh… sure. Here." Beast Boy dug his hand into a pocket and it came out holding a small crumpled wad of midnight-blue fabric. It was immediately covered with a black mist and lifted up to float quickly towards Raven. As it levitated closer, it unfolded into its normal shape, that of a lacy thong. Cyborg opened his mouth for a surprised comment, but then remembered that life was still beautiful and that in any case there were less painful ways to commit suicide. He thought better of it and closed his mouth without speaking.

A pale hand poked out of the cloak, grasped the dainty piece of fabric and pulled it under the indigo curtain. The fire in Raven's eyes intensified.

A black sphere appeared around Beast Boy and propelled him immediately and forcefully through the closed window to fall in a sickeningly long parabola half a mile out in the ocean. The broken glass of the smashed window was still tinkling as it fell on the floor when the red eyes turned to Cyborg.

"Did he do this on your dare?"

Never was Cyborg so grateful for Raven's empathy. It allowed her to feel his sincerity as he answered.

"No, Rae. I didn't do anything. I didn't even know, I swear!"

She glared at him for a few moments, probably making sure he was not lying. Her eyes returned to normal, the demonic snarl faded and the tentacles vanished.

"You will not mention this to anyone. Ever."

The large organic and metallic head nodded quickly and vigorously. Raven turned around and left. Cyborg let out a long, relieved breath and wiped the sweat from the human part of his forehead.

-=oOo=-

Some fifteen minutes later a drenched Garfield returned, dripping in salt water, his feet squelching as he walked. He was sporting an unusually large grin on his face.

"What's so funny? Y'all got lucky little sis didn't send ya to one of the Pits of Hell!" Cyborg growled. "Or maybe to several!"

Beast Boy waved his concern away with a dismissive hand, his grin widening. "Nah. Rae would never hurt me. She likes me!"

"If that was liking, I'm glad I didn't see what hating is supposed to be!" the half-robot grumbled. "And I can't say I blame her. Not after y'all pulled that stunt. What were you thinkin', going on a panty raid into Raven's closet?"

The green changeling lowered his wet body onto the couch, eliciting a disapproving frown from Cyborg. "I'm trying to get a reaction out of her," he explained, his grin coloring with a touch of guilt.

"Well, y'all certainly managed to do it," Cyborg shook his head in disbelief. "But somehow I don't think you went for the reaction you got."

Beast Boy rubbed the back of his head, still grinning. "Got me there. I'm trying to get her to confess that she likes me."

Cyborg scowled. "Confess? Now listen here, Evergreen! I know you've got a crush on her, that's so obvious it hurts! But I think you're making a big mistake and deceiving yourself –"

Garfield looked at his friend and chuckled. "You don't get it, do ya? I don't have a crush on her." His grin faded and his eyes became unusually serious. "I love her, Cy. I'm completely, absolutely, totally in love with her."

The huge half-robot blinked while his neural net slowly absorbed the meaning of the words. He heaved a deep sigh, sat beside his friend and placed a huge metallic hand on his shoulder.

"Damn it, man. I'm really sorry for ya."

"Why would you feel sorry for him?" a flat, emotionless voice snapped both their heads around. Their faces paled again, one to ash, the other to lime.

"Uh… I… um… we…" Cyborg fought to overcome the paralysis of his vocal apparatus. He swallowed and found his voice again. "How long've you been listening to us, little sis?"

"Long enough," she said calmly as she glided over. "Now, I recall that you mentioned you needed to align the plasma injector on the T-Car? This would be a good moment to do it."

Cyborg looked at her open-mouthed and uncomprehending until she lifted an eyebrow. The gesture was enough to scald him into frenzied action.

"Yes, the injector! Yes, good idea! Yes, I'll do it right away!" He jumped to his feet and vanished from the Ops room in a few quick, long, urgent strides. Raven turned to Garfield, who appeared to be transformed into a block of solid malachite, an apprehensive glow in his eyes the only sign of life he was giving.

"As for you…" she said coldly, "First you will repeat all that you said, to me, directly. Then you will explain why you didn't say it before." She lifted her hand and her eyes glowed white. Black strands of magic enveloped the still-stunned shapeshifter and lifted him from the couch to deposit him right in front of her.

"Then," she said as she leaned closer to him and as her voice warmed up into a croon, "then we will discuss your obsession with my panties."