They-Call-Me-Orange- No assumptions. I know that some twists are a bit obvious, but I might fake on you. You never know, with authors. All the ones I know personally are a bit insane, myself included. I know the chapter was short, but I'm trying to divide up sections so that everything fits together, with small time lapses and different characters meshing without being jammed too tight.

Ripdos A.K.A. The Bad Ash- I don't know if I should feel complimented or criticized. Any co-ed group of teenagers will have romance issues, and I think there's more to Starfire than bubbly happiness. If there isn't, I want a refund. Romance is always complicated- it only seems simple when we're not paying too much attention.

FREAK 4 FREAK- Could you let me know what's confusing? If there's something I can fix, I'll work on it. Sometimes, I know exactly what's going on, but I leave out some vital paragraph so someone needs to ask me about it. Just leave a review with what could be clearer, and I'll try to make it better.

YumeTakato- Thanks. I will keep updating. With this many reviews, I feel like there'd be a lynch gang after me if I stopped.

Regrem Erutaerc- Will people never stop sending me their speculations? Really, I'm flattered that you'd all feel the need to imagine different scenarios, but no character is infallible. Sit back for a chapter or two- the truth will come out.

moo- I think you've covered it. Being thorough rarely hurts, though.

mirsan4ever- I will neither confirm nor deny the guess. Will people please satisfy themselves with the fact that the author isn't working out some elaborate scheme? It was meant to be pretty certain, but not definite.

cool-girl027- Thanks for the review. Sorry, but you'll just have to keep reading to find out all the answers, even if they seem obvious. She's more open because nothing explodes when she is, but she still isn't used to it.

Everyone seems to be absolutely convinced that they must predict twists, plot, what will happen, and I'll predict people will begin guessing when the story will end. For anyone who wants to guess, go ahead and spin out the story scenario. If someone does pull my final twist, however, I shall have to accuse you of stealing my notebook. Go ahead- give me serious or ridiculous guesses. I won't tell you what's right, but I'll tell you if it will never happen while I still have a keyboard to call my own. This kind of event would be something like Raven liking Robin. If they ever did hit it off, they would spend the rest of their natural lives obsessing and being so full of angst you wanted to shoot them, and be entirely too serious. Robin needs to lighten up, Beast Boy obviously has a crush on Rae. Don't even try to defend the Robin/Raven angle to me, but I will read comments and laugh. I think that Raven + Robin equalsAddams family reruns. Really bad Addams family reruns.

He was back the next week, but the door was locked. Even the small secretarial office that was more like a long closet was closed. Gar walked down the hall, drawn to the usual place where people in an office would gather when they either had nothing to do or wanted to avoid working- the water cooler. As he guessed, RACHEL L. CORVID was there, just outside of the cluster of secretaries, accepted only because Grayson had hired her years ago, so she had seniority over most, and the rest she could easily pull rank on. Office politics were very complex, with only unspoken treaties.

"Miss Corvid?" He could step in and play the hero. This wasn't as dramatic as the good old days (was he really that old already? He was twenty-four!) but still would have a positive impact. With his image-inducing ring, he had been called a ladies' man, and he was known to be a close friend of the CEO. People would never get over a green man, so he made the best of it by appearing "normal." "I was called by Dick yesterday, about starting a zoo in Gotham. The company-sponsored deal- he said you would take care of the paperwork."

Rachel saw an opening, to try and show the other secretaries she wasn't a man-hater. She had been accused of that several times, as well as a few hurtful comments about her sexual orientation by even the male employees. She had no problem with people who chose that lifestyle, but she just wasn't one of them. She didn't care that the personnel director could have gotten her a promotion or salary raise- he was disgusting, and she wasn't that kind of girl. "Of course, Dr. Logan. Dick forgot to leave his office open, but he'll be back shortly." She had never called Grayson Richard, let alone by his more familiar nick-name. No one else knew that, however.

"I have told you to call me Gar, haven't I? I only have a doctorate for reasons outside of college academics." Few ever connected Dr. Gar Logan to Beast Boy, but a few people would understand. For the rest, it was a mystery.

"I can't say you have, Gar." She ignored the other secretaries for now, though they all were watching her, for once. "In that case, I'm Rachel." She saw a door open down the hall. "He's in his office now, if you'll come with me." She left, knowing that the others would be more than ready to talk later.

Once inside, Dick only handed off a few documents before leaving for the day. He and Kori were heading to the premiere of some show or other. The instant he was out of earshot, both started laughing.

"Did you see the looks on their faces?" she asked, wiping her eyes behind thick lenses. "I have never seen a more sour-looking bunch in my life."

"You're leaving with me today. Those people only need an excuse. The ones in the fringes looked nice enough, like they'd be a real friend if the crowd wouldn't turn against them. That was the best laugh I've had in weeks."

"You're the closest thing I've had to a friend in a few years."

"Thing?"

She laughed. "Now who's touchy? Excuse me, Monsieur String Bean."

"Monsieur String Bean? Come on, I have more muscle than that," he griped good-naturedly, flexing a nearly non-existent bicep. He spent more time studying than working out. "Madame, I feel that we can be very good friends," he said in a ridiculous French accent. "What say you?"

"I say that I've heard odder requests. You- you really do want to be friends, though? Because if you're patronizing, with all malicious spirits as my witnesses, I'll have a smear campaign running against your zoos so fast, you won't know if your ring is on or off."

He slipped if off. "It's nice to have somewhere where it can be off without getting stared at," he admitted. "Before, I was a hero. Now, I'm a weird scientist who happens to be green."

"Well, didn't Kermit say something along those lines?" she asked.

"What, he was a weird scientist who happened to be green? I though Kermit was a frog."

"No, it isn't easy being green. He didn't hide it."

"And he brought home Mrs. Piggy."

"And you hide your greenness, and it's brought you home. . ."

"I don't want to talk about her."

"Fine, fine, forget I asked. Let's talk about your zoo. Most paperwork will be around here, so I've cleared out a file cabinet. You get to use the green one- I figured even a scatterbrained doctor like you could remember that color. Whenever you need something done, let me know. It would be easier for me to do it, so Dick doesn't need to hire anyone else. Let's get to work."

She dropped a binder of official-looking documents, all neatly filed and labeled with tabs to show where he needed to sign, onto his lap. She took out a larger stack for herself, working through papers at a blinding speed. All was quiet, except for the swish of shuffling papers, the cuh-click of the stapler, and the occasional ow of discomfort from Gar. He wasn't used to handling so many papers, and paper cuts were more painful than many direct blows in combat as a Teen Titan.

He was bothered by the silence first. "Look, I'm sorry for snapping at you. Still friends?"

She pretended to consider. "Still friends. But you're springing for lunch. I know you're loaded, and you wouldn't ask a poor secretary to splurge on lunch, would you?"

"Nice try, but you make almost as much as Dick. I know a few things about corporate salaries. I'll buy today, but you're on for tomorrow."

Rachel smiled. "Can't win them all- that would make life extremely boring."

Gar began to see Dick's outer office as the epicenter of his zoo project. Rachel kept his cabinet sorted even when he couldn't, and he only found one oddity in her. Whenever "Mr. Grayson" was present, she was as reserved as could be. When "Dick" was gone, she was much friendlier. He asked her why, once, and she only said Gar was the only person in the place who probably wouldn't fire her for being "out of line." She was trusting him with her job- if he tattled, however, she would hunt him down, no matter what he turned into. She meant it.

Rachel helped with the small problems he couldn't even understand. She reworded requests that had been denied, saying the exact same thing with a different spin. She kept corporate logos to a minimum through a few seemingly useless clauses. She listened to his rants about slow construction or bad attitudes. She was better than Sam about listening to stories about his life- she never had to interrupt with a witty side comment before she forgot it. She saved those for when he needed cheering up, or for when he finally ran out of steam.

He never wore his ring in her office. She had only shrugged when he asked if green was weird, during one of their many extremely candid conversations. "Green's green, and that's all there is to it. You're half the problem. If it's not an issue to you, it shouldn't be one to them. Those that have a problem, avoid."

"Green is not normal. People can be any shade of a flesh variation they want. Those whose ancestors lived in sunny areas have skin rich in melanin, so not too much sunlight is absorbed to help produce vitamin K. People in the Artic Circle and that region are pale, because they need all the sun they can get. No natural people are green."

"Are you saying that you're unnatural again?"

"Yes."

"Stop judging yourself by other people. For all you know, you could be normal."

"Does that even make sense?"

"Yes. Now, let me explain without an interruption from you," she scolded. "Everyone in the world is different, so no two people are the same. If everyone is different, there is only one normalcy. It could be me, it could be you, or it could be the bum down the street. No one around here is fit to judge that, so until then, be happy with who you are. Would you rather be dead or green?"

"Green," he decided, almost begrudgingly.

"Exactly. Very few people would make the other choice. You really have some issues with self-esteem."

"So do you."

"Excuse me?"

"I've watched you talk to the others. You always hang back, let them do the entire work of approaching, and usually will turn tail at the first sight of confrontation. You don't demand a raise, overtime pay, or a larger office to deal with all your paperwork. You're afraid of making waves."

"Who's the psychoanalyst now?"

"You had your turn, Rachel. It's my shot at this. Did something happen, that you don't want to talk to Dick? He's a nice enough guy, if a bit stand-offish. He has his reasons, and does his share for the city."

"I know all about that. He sends a package to the dry-cleaners, one that very few use. They have security that would rival the Swiss banks. Not all shirts, mind you, but just one bag of light material. Once, he gave me a ripped bag to carry the outfit in, and a sleeve fell out before I could find another. I know he has his reasons, and I won't pry."

"So why don't you ask for a raise?"

"Why are people so obsessed with money? I make enough. Besides, the next thing you know, I'll get promoted somewhere else. I like this office."

"Is it the small space, the lack of room, the inspiring view of aparking structure,the permanent musty smell, or the wonderful personality Mr. Grayson has in the office?"

"It's actually having a boss so hopeless with paperwork. I take care of everything, he doesn't breathe over my shoulder, and I like to think that I'm helping everyone in some small way. If we're done with all this serious discussion of issues, I think it's quitting time."

"If I may escort you to your vehicle, madam?" he asked, a common enough practice. He had noticed one person trip her last week. He had found the man's name, exact occupation, and Dick, in that order. He had made a formal apology, after being tipped off by a worker 'concerned for the positive environment of the company.' She had known who it was, but had never mentioned it.

"Of course, but my vehicle is out of commission. Some genius pulled in front of me on the freeway going thirty, and I plowed into the back of him while going eighty. The new airbag saved us both, but my car was completely wrecked. The accident was judged completely his fault- if I'd swerved, I would have taken out someone else. I'm taking a taxi."

"Are you sure? The subway's faster."

"Well, if you think so. . ."

They couldn't find the entrance to the subway- the descending stairs at Fourth and Haverly were closed for repair. The terminals were coin-operated, and Rachel had enough change for only one token. Gar had to use a credit card to make a twenty-five cent purchase- the counters didn't have small bills, and the change machines were out-of-order. To prove his identity and use his credit care, he had to pull off the ring. After the cashier and everyone within a fifty-foot radius knew him to be "that green guy on the news," his identity was accepted.

The needed subway train was missed, so they had to wait seventeen minutes for a green-line sub car. The maps inside of the subway had been plastered over with flyers and bumper stickers, but Gar said that he remembered the stop. He had taken the subway the year before. As she predicted, he missed the stop. They had to ride the entire route to end up near streets they recognized, directly back in front of where they started. They left past the same cashiers, and his ring earned a few knowing smiles. Beneath the image inducer, he was blushing a rather interesting shade of deep green.

Rachel laughed all the way outside, and could barely stop long enough to call a taxi. Gar only tried his best to look dignified, but started laughing at her description of the trip. The taxi ride to her apartment took four minutes. She had the last word, for that day, at least. "Men. Can't trust them with directions on how to fall off a log." He only had shrugged- he knew when to quit while he was ahead. This was one of those times. She might forget that much faster, this way- by the time he was sixty-two, it would be old news, and he would again be trusted with directions, and the Grand Subway Fiasco would be forgotten.