I do not own any of the characters, I do not make a profit from them. Please don't sue, I have nothing.
Just more questions……By In Articulo Mortis
And they had defeated there foe, once again. Beastboy and Cyborg were at the game station, beating the crap out of each other. Star was painting Raven's nails, blue (a compromise between pink and black, that had been hard to reach).
"Bo Yah!" Robin glanced up to see Beastboy's victory dance, Cyborg spluttering and protesting. He smiled gently, imperceptibly, stood and made his way to the door. He didn't see the guilty glance from his green friend.
He walked slowly, was in no rush, towards the shoreline. He ached, his body tired from the encounter with jinx less than an hour earlier. He smiled again, at how quickly his team had learned to 'get over' a battle. One minuet its all action and danger next they are painting each others nails. Remarkable friends, he had. Not the 'super-powers', but the people who dealt with having them.
Plonking himself down at the edge of the water, slipping his boots from his sore feet and wiggling his long toes in the cool water. Hearing a shuffle behind him he shifted to see Raven, her cloak flowing and hands outstretched awkwardly.
"Nails not dry yet?"
"No. How long can it take?" she frowned and settled her self next to him. Not being able to ease her decent she hit the rock slightly harder than expected and winced.
Robin chucked.
"Why is it that the only one of us that has no 'super-powers' is designated the leader?"
She tilted her head to see him better.
"Feeling insecure?" she asked, her voice revealing the smirk rather than her face.
"Just seems wrong, somehow. That's all."
"Your not with out your own variety of superhuman strength. It just happens to be mental".
Robin scoffed.
"Not like that". She swatted his thigh. "Your mind. Your ability to read a situation, your determination, your discipline, your patients. Even with Beastboy".
He put his hand on her knee and squeezed it gently.
"thank-you."
"no problem".
Faint cheering could be heard back at the tower and so raven stood and began dusting herself off.
"umm….your nails?"
"Oh!…damn". She faffed and got one nail stuck to the inside of her cape. "I promised star I wouldn't mess them up! She try's so hard, as well".
Robin helped her to get her hands free and looked at the damage.
"There a mess"
"I feel guilty, I cant go in like this". She glanced back at the tower, as did Robin.
"keep your hands hidden, I'll meet you in my room". He smiled and didn't give her a chance to ask questions.
Making her way up to the normally off-limits room, she felt kind of nervous. Not that she would show it, ever. She kept her hands down the whole walk, just in case Starfire came to look over her handy-work. She felt the twinge of guilt again. That girl tried so hard with her, desperate to do what girls 'should' do together. Painting her nails had been the latest in a long list of activities, none of witch were successful and each of witch made her feel less and less adequate as a friend to the bubbly alien.
Robin bedroom door was not a frontier she was ready to breach alone and so she waited for him outside.
When he came, he was jogging, holding Stars nail varnish bag in his hand. He grinned at her and opened his door for her to enter.
The door clicked quietly behind them and she suddenly felt trapped, anxious. He didn't appear to notice and shrunk to the floor cross-legged and patted the carpet space just in front of him.
"We'll sort this out, eh?". The nails! She had forgotten why she was even there.
She sat in front of the lean boy routing through the pink zippered bag. Pulling out some cotton padding he opened the remover bottle and the smell of solvent filled her nostrils. Not the most intoxicating thing in the room, she blushed.
He held his hand out expectantly and she tentatively held hers out to be taken. He took a deep breath, his chest rising, then took her hand in his. He gently began removing the blue enamel with gentle strokes of the cotton wool.
His long slender fingers gripping hers purposefully, his brow knitted in concentration.
She struggled for something to say, the silence was making the feel of his skin too raw.
"Why do you let her do it to you?" he looked up from her hand, briefly, made eye contact then went back to his business.
"What do you mean?" so grateful for the distraction.
"Star, she uses you like a doll. Do you like having your hair braded and discussing lipstick shades?" he arched his slender eyebrow but stayed focused on her hand.
"She wants a girlie friend, its my duty. No one else is going to, are they? And besides, I like her, I guess. Even if I'm not loving it, she makes me feel like a girl".
"You don't feel like a girl?" he looked at her this time, briefly again. She thanked him, it seemed to sting when they made eye contact.
"Not really. Not what a girl should be anyway. Not all make-up and giggling and discussing boys I fancy". She smiled on the surface but wondered who she would tell, even if she wanted to, if she could. "..and being pretty". She added. She was testing, and she knew it would end in more hurt but she couldn't help it. She just wanted so desperately to hear…
"But Raven, you are".
He was looking at her again, it was hurting again. He looked like he wanted to retreat, and he dropped her hand and she missed the touch, the feel of his skin on hers. She blushed again.
"So what colour was it? This one?"
"uh huh, I think so". She picked up the discarded cotton wool to check the colour. "Yes". He nodded.
He picked up her hand again, resting it on his lifted knee. As he leaned forward to grab the bottle she felt his breath on her finger tips. She felt her young nipples tighten slightly at the sensation.
Removing the drips from the brush he held each finger in turn, still and glossed the nail with a thin coat of colour. He used quick and practised strokes, and there was no mess.
"You've had practise at this?" she arched her own eyebrow this time and met his eyes voluntarily.
He blushed. But said nothing. She took the hint.
It seemed almost impossible to think that there was another side to the boy wonder that she knew even less about than his 'public' side. It seemed impossible that he could be any more complex than she had imaged, but practiced in the art of the manicure was just the latest addition to a very long list of remarkable hints to the real Dick Greyson.
Star never noticed that her friends nails were re-done and simply marvelled at how neatly she had managed to do them. Raven couldn't bring herself to take the colour off, just looking at her hands brought back the feel of his fingers on hers. She let them grow out, much to Stars disgust.
Hope you liked it.