Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or any characters from the DC Universe. Review replies are at the end!


Chapter Two

It was raining when Rachel left work, and with some frustration she realised that she had left her umbrella at home in her rush that morning. Pulling her hood up on her jacket she raced towards the apartment block, her feet pitter pattering on the pavement as she ran. Thoughts from the day raced through her mind at an equal pace. She had spoken with Jenny about her conversation with Miss Wilson and her new assignment on the project. After the initial laughing and teasing, Jenny was fairly sympathetic. Especially when Rachel had explained her concerns about the Johnsons.

"That woman is a jobsworth," Jen had snarled, baring her teeth. "She only does the bare minimum, with complete clinical precision. It's as though she's had an emotional bypass. I dread to think what her home life was like. I mean, I know ours wasn't the best, Rach, but can you imagine what must have happened to her as a kid to make her like this?"

It was a good point, and not one that Rachel had considered previously. Very little was known about the elusive Rose Wilson. She detested three things; tardiness, being called by her given name and inefficient or incompetent staff. The fact that Jenny and Rachel had lasted two years was nothing short of a miracle. With the exception of Jerry, whom it was rumoured was biologically related to Miss Wilson in some way, they were the longest serving staff at the centre. Perhaps in some way they were both as headstrong as she was. That and the fact that they had each other to lean on and moan to had been invaluable.

Rachel scrabbled around in her bag for her keys as she made her way to the entrance to the apartment. Sheltering underneath the canopy, she cursed as she finally laid her hands on them. Once she was inside the building, she shook her long dark hair out. To say that she was sodden would be an understatement. Rainwater dripped from her forehead and down her nose. She tried wiping it on her sleeve, but it only served to make her face wetter. Giving up, she headed for the elevators muttering under her breath.

"I hate Mondays."

"I hear you," came a velvety male voice behind her. Rachel jumped slightly, not realising anyone else was waiting for the lift. She turned and looked over her shoulder and saw a dark-haired male who she didn't recognise standing behind her. He smiled in a friendly way despite her bedraggled appearance. "I did remember my umbrella this morning though, so I guess my day wasn't as bad as yours."

Rachel shrugged, and turned back to the elevator as it pinged. "You don't know the half of it. I can't wait to get home and unwind."

"Absolutely," agreed the man, stepping into the lift behind her. "Floor?"

"Seven," replied Rachel, stepping back and leaning gently against the glass. The man nodded and hit the six and the seven on the number pad. He turned back towards her as the doors closed, a small smile on his face. Rachel cocked her head. "We've never met before. Are you new here?"

"Yes, I moved here last week from Steel City. I work with the marine biologists out there, but there's a major project in Jump that they wanted me to help out on," replied the man, his dark eyes flashing beneath the artificial lights. Rachel suddenly became aware of how attractive he was and felt a sudden discomfort at her saturated appearance. She plucked at her soggy sleeves and tried to appear interested. He continued to speak obliviously. "It's been a big change but I'm settling in. How about you, have you been here long?"

"Two years," replied Rachel, tucking her hair behind her ear self-consciously. "We live at 701. It's okay here, definitely not the worst place I've stayed."

"We?" said the man, curiously. Rachel nodded, forgetting that the man had no idea who she was referring to.

"Oh, sorry. My flatmate and I moved in together to save on rent."

"Ah, I see. Luckily the company are paying my rent so I'm able to stay alone which is nice," nodded the man, looking at the numbers as they flicked closer to his floor. "Well, maybe we will run into each other again. I'll let you know if I need a cup of sugar or anything."

Rachel laughed lightly, forgetting herself for a moment. She blinked, as he extended his hand. "My name's Garth, by the way."

"Rachel," she replied, taking his hand in her small pale one. "Rachel Roth."

"Nice to meet you, Rachel Roth. Hopefully see you again soon," said Garth, in his dulcet tones. The elevator pinged on cue and he stepped out, turning briefly to waggle his fingers at her as he strode towards his room. The lift doors closed, and Rachel felt her cheeks go hot. She had definitely not been ogling him as he walked towards his apartment. Though it did fill her with a pang of excitement to know that he was living downstairs. Just wait until she told Jenny tomorrow, she'd be green with envy.

The doors pinged again, and the young woman squelched down the corridor to the apartment. She could hear movement behind the door and knew that Gar had made it home first. That wasn't unusual. His job's hours were different from hers seeing as he worked in wildlife conservation. She pushed her key into the slot and turned, and the door swung open.

Gar was in the kitchenette, pots and pans banging around. Rachel turned to shut the door and heard him pause. He'd clearly heard her coming in, and she kicked her damp shoes off before walking through. Gar laughed upon seeing her soaked state.

"Hey, it's the lady of the lake," he joked, walking towards her and tugging on a strand of soggy hair. "Did you get teleported into the ocean again?"

"Very funny," remarked Rachel, poking him as he released her damp hair. She began to struggle out of her wet coat, and he reached over and helped her peel it off. "Ugh. It's been a nightmare of a day."

"Uh oh," replied Gar, hanging her coat on the rack and walking back to the kitchenette. "I know what that means. Emergency fluids?"

"You say the loveliest things," joked Rachel, collapsing onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. "Yes please. Make it a double?"

"Coming up," replied the young man, as he uncorked a bottle of red wine and poured her a glass. "So, what happened? Besides the obvious lack of preparation for the weather of course."

"Well, I was almost late to work again for starters. Then the infamous Miss Rose Wilson put me on brat brigade," grumbled Rachel, taking the glass from him gratefully. He sat opposite her and listened quietly. "Then there was an issue with these kids and when I tried to talk to her, she said I was overreacting and chewed me out. Then told me I was taking over the project indefinitely and left. I forgot my lunch but thankfully Jen shared. Oh yeah, and then I got rained on."

"Oh man. That is a rough day," agreed Gar, picking up his own glass of wine and taking a drink. "But you know that you do a good job, Rach. There's no better empath than you. Try to chalk it up to being one of those days. I'm sure you did the best you could."

"Yeah, you're right," agreed Rachel, trying to dry some of her long dark hair as they spoke. "Besides, I just met our cute new neighbour from downstairs on the sixth floor. So, I guess it wasn't all bad."

"New neighbour?" enquired Gar, shrugging and looking blank. Rachel nodded, noticing the colour rising to her cheeks again.

"Yeah. His name is Garth and he's a marine biologist, apparently."

"Oh, right," replied Gar, but his tone had changed slightly. It sounded harder, more disinterested. Rachel tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips.

"What's the matter Gar-bear? You're not jealous, are you?"

"Why would I be jealous, Rae-Rae?" sneered Garfield, shoving her arm. "I'm perfectly secure in myself."

Rachel snorted, taking a long drink of the red liquid. It soothed her instantly. "So, it won't help when I tell you he lives alone, and his apartment is paid for by his company?"

"Well, then I definitely win because I don't live alone. I get to live with you," joked Gar, sticking his tongue out at her. Rachel rolled her eyes at his complimentary tactics as he protested. "Oh, come on. That was a good one."

"That's what you say about all of them, idiot," smiled Rachel, taking another sip of her drink. "Anyway, how was your day?"

"Same wildlife, different day," shrugged Garfield, running his hand through his blond hair. It stuck up messily, but somehow seemed to look just right. He smiled brightly. "But I do have news. I spoke to Vic and he's totally up for a meet up with all of us. We're thinking maybe to do a weekend away somewhere. What do you think?"

"I think that's the best news I've had all day," replied Rachel, feeling her mood brightening right away. A weekend away with her childhood friends – what could be better? Although she wasn't the most sociable person in the world, she appreciated the idea of being with them after so long. "When are you thinking?"

"Vic suggested a weekend next month. I checked our planner, there's nothing on there so I figured it would be good," smiled Garfield, his green eyes shining with mirth. "It's gonna be so freaking sweet!"

Rachel nodded in agreement, lulling into silence for a while as she stayed with her thoughts. The gang together again. It had been a long time since that had happened, probably around eighteen months at least. Since she and Gar had moved away it had been more difficult to organise. Despite frequent phone calls and emails, it never felt quite the same. Gar seemed quiet too, alone with all of his thoughts. Rachel's eyes drifted up and she looked at him. His brow was furrowed with concentration. He seemed a million miles away. She studied his face, thinking back to her earlier contemplation about them not living together one day. The pang of pain hit her again, and she realised that she truly was fearful of that situation arising. There was something tugging at the back of her mind, but she couldn't fully fathom why it was that she felt so uncomfortable about him moving away. Leaving her. Then it hit her in an instant.

Gar was her safety, her security. She never felt more normal than when they were together at home like this. It was the closest thing she'd ever had to family in her entire life. It was if the world stopped for a moment as the realisation dawned on her. Suddenly, Rachel's eyes changed, and she looked at him differently for a moment. What if Jenny was right, there was something more between them? She didn't think of him that way, of course. But...did Gar think of her that way? Rachel blinked, suddenly pulling herself short. None of it mattered anyway. They were just friends...

Just friends. Right?

Suddenly hit with fear at what her mind was doing, she cleared her throat. Gar glanced towards her, a puzzled look on his face. "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Just processing my day," replied Rachel, her mind scrabbling to go back to the blissfully ignorant state she had been in five minutes before. She felt self-aware all of a sudden. Using the only defence left at her disposal, she tried to deflect. "Are you?"

"Yeah. Well. Kind of," replied Gar, cryptically. Rachel tilted her head, taking another swig of her wine. She looked at him expectantly until he spoke. Sighing, the young blond continued. "It's Tara. I'm rethinking it again since our conversation this morning."

"Oh," replied Rachel, feeling discomfort and relief wash over her in equal measure. She took a deep breath and exhaled. "Look, Gar. I didn't mean to give you a hard time about it. It's only because I care about you. You do know that, right?"

"I do," smiled Gar, his eyes twinkling in that way they always did when he was being authentic. Rachel smiled back, relieved that he wasn't angry with her. He shook his head. "It's not you, Rach. I was just thinking about all the crap I went through with her the last time we were back on again. I just don't know if it's worth it. I guess I'm just questioning what I want from relationships now. I'm not a dumb kid anymore, you know?"

"I know what you mean," replied Rachel, pushing all jokes about Gar's mental capacity to the back of her mind. This was definitely not the time. She shrugged, taking another sip of her rapidly decreasing glass. "So, what do you want?"

"To be happy," shrugged Gar, laughing at the simplicity of his statement. "I know it's cliché but it's true, Rae. I just want to come home to someone I want to see. I don't want to argue and fight all the time and play mind games. I want the easy life, really."

"Yeah, a wife and 2.4 kids, I know," replied Rachel, trying not to sound too bitter about it given her earlier sentiments. "You've said before."

"I have, and it's true. I'm just not sure I want that with Tara. Our relationship was always about fun. Style and no substance, you know what I mean?"

"Well, I know what you mean where she's concerned," replied Rachel, trying to keep her tone even. She reached out and touched his hand gently. "But I know that you can have those things, Gar. You deserve them and you'll find them one day."

Garfield gave a goofy grin, his slightly crooked tooth poking through as it always did. He fixed her with a stern look. "Thanks. You'll find it too, you know that?"

"Come off it, Logan. That life isn't for me," laughed Rachel, releasing his hand and finishing her wine. "We both know that I'll be here long after you leave."

"If you say so," shrugged Gar, standing up and starting to put something together for their dinner. Rachel was hopeless in the kitchen, so he did all the cooking and she did all the cleaning. She fiddled with her fingers as they were silent for a few moments as he clattered about. Suddenly, he turned and gave her mischievous look. "Then again, Mr. Marine Biologist always has a spare room if you're lonely..."


Two empty bowls stained with red pasta sauce lay on the small coffee table in their lounge. Rachel and Gar were sprawled across their couch, relaxing after their long day. Several more emergency fluids had been consumed. As the show Gar was watching came to an end, Rachel flicked her blue eyes over the pages of her book. She blinked, letting out a wide yawn.

"What time is it?"

"It's almost eleven," replied Gar, stretching in a catlike way and yawning widely. He gave her a small smile and tilted his head towards her novel. "Good book?"

"Yes," replied Rachel, pushing herself into an upright position. "Didn't want to come back to reality."

"Aw, is my company really that bad?" jested the blond, twisting towards the couch arm and looking over towards her. A serious look came over him all of a sudden. "Look, Rach, work is going to be fine tomorrow."

"How can you possibly know that, Gar?" laughed the young woman, pushing herself to a more comfortable sitting position and folding her legs beneath herself. "If you can predict the future then you should have insisted that I took my umbrella today, you ass."

"Alright, Miss Sarcastic. The point I was making is that, whatever happens tomorrow you can handle it. You're one of the most brave and resourceful people I've ever met, Rae."

"Please stop, you're going to make me cry," responded Rachel, dryly. She closed her book and placed it on the coffee table. Pausing for a moment she took a breath. "Thank you, I appreciate it. It's good to know I've got you on my side."

"Of course. You'll always have me, Rae. I'll always be here for you," smiled Gar, reaching his arms out towards her for a hug.

The young woman fought back her involuntary flinch. Tenderness from men was definitely not something she had been used to as a child. But as she had grown, she had learned that if she wrestled the initial discomfort back it could actually be quite nice. Besides, she trusted Gar more than anyone else in the whole world. She shuffled forwards, resting into his embrace and placing her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating gently beneath his t-shirt. Wrapping her delicate arms around his torso, she returned the hug and smiled as she closed her eyes.

"I know you'll always be there for me," she responded, feeling his grip on her tighten as he rested his chin on her head. "You always have been, dork."

"That's right. You're stuck with me, babe," chuckled the young man, the rumbling in his chest echoing in the brunette's ears. "That's just how it is."

"For now," replied Rachel, ambiguously. Gar's weight shifted and he gently pushed her back so that he could look her in the eye. His eyebrows were raised, green eyes full of concern and confusion in equal measure.

"And what's that supposed to mean, huh?"

"Well," shrugged Rachel, reaching up and pushing his arms away so that she could fold her own across herself. "I just don't want you to make promises you can't keep."

"So, you don't think I'll always be here for you?"

"I think you mean it when you say it. But it just isn't practical, is it?" replied the young woman, casting her blue eyes down to their worn couch. All hints of comedy had vanished from the room, and a strange thick atmosphere had descended. "Like you said earlier, we want different things from the future. I mean look at the others; we all swore we'd be best friends forever but then we all went our separate ways. It's what happens, Gar."

"I'm still here," responded the young man quietly, his eyes staring at her in a strange way. Rachel looked up, frowning lightly. Gar's face had changed; she'd never seen him look so serious before. "I'm not leaving you, Rach. That's what this is about isn't it? You really believe that one day we'll all leave you and you'll be alone."

"I don't think th—"

"Rachel Arella Roth. We have been friends for the best part of twelve years. I know you inside out, upside down and back to front. I know your fears. I know how you think and how that crazy mind works," began Garfield, tapping on the side of her head. "Don't tell me I'm wrong, because I know I'm not."

Rachel fell silent. She didn't feel able to tell him that he was spot on. Her mouth wouldn't let her betray the truth. Gar continued, knowing that she was unlikely to speak.

"Look, Rae. I don't know what the future holds but...I know what I think and how I feel," he began, reaching down and taking hold of her small, pale hand. "You are part of my family, that's never going to change. How I feel about you is never going to change."

Rachel looked down at their entwined fingers, that peculiar feeling from earlier creeping over her. She could feel her heartbeat changing, increasing to an abnormal speed. She swallowed, unsure what to do with all these new and unexpected emotions that were flowing over her. Surely it was just the alcohol and lack of sleep that were the cause.

Right?

She looked up into his green eyes; they were filled with a pure, genuine emotion that she couldn't name. She'd never seen it before. Rachel was scared. Something was shifting between them in that moment. The young woman could feel it with every sense within her being, and she knew that it could never shift back.

"Gar, I..." she began, noticing how dry her throat felt. "I'm frightened."

"Of what?" he asked softly, reaching up to tuck her dark hair behind her ear. His hand lingered a moment longer than it should have, fingertips brushing her fair cheekbone. Her heart somersaulted in her chest at the contact. Her words were lost again. What was she scared of exactly? This was her best friend, a man she had known for a large portion of her childhood and all of adult life so far. He wasn't likely to betray her or hurt her. The truth hit her in an instant; there was only one thing that was petrifying her.

Her own feelings.

Rachel was scared of these different emotions she was having for him today. As though she was seeing him through a different lens somehow. Gar was waiting patiently. He knew her well enough to know that she was lost in thought and was expectantly looking at her as she processed her mind. Their hands were still entwined, unmoving. They grounded her somehow. This was real. This was happening.

"Um, I don't know," replied Rachel, feeling shy all of a sudden. "Everything's just different today. You're different."

"I'm different?" replied Gar, looking genuinely surprised by her answer. He shifted closer to her, his hand gripping her smaller one supportively. "How am I different, Rae? We've always done this; most evenings for the past two years. You come home. I cook, and we eat. You talk to me; I talk to you. You read your books; I watch my shows. Then we get up, go to work and do it all over again."

"I know that," replied Rachel, a tinge of frustration in her voice. "Maybe you're not different. Maybe I am."

"Rach, you're talking in riddles. You know I'm not that smart," laughed Gar, breaking the atmosphere slightly. It had felt tense, uncomfortable almost. She took the humour with gratitude, her blue eyes flashing with thanks as she looked up at him. "You might feel different, but you seem like the same person I've always known and loved."

Her heart kicked in her chest. Loved. Gar loved her. But why did that feel so important today? Sure, they'd both said it lots of times. But through her new lens, it felt like the most sacred word in the whole world.

"Do you?"

It came out of her mouth before she could stop it. Her blue eyes widened with fear at what she had just said, and the young man looked slightly baffled by the enquiry. He paused, eyebrow quirking.

"Do I what?"

"Um," began Rachel, suddenly struggling to breathe. She didn't know where this was going or what she was doing anymore. Everything felt like a mess, a blur. Back-peddling seemed like the only option. "I don't know. Forget it. I'm in a strange mood."

"No, come on," replied Gar, his eyes filled with concern again. He shifted even closer, so their knees were touching. Her eyes faltered and fell down to the couch once more. He lifted her chin resolutely. "Don't do this, you always disappear on me. I swear if you could you would magic yourself away."

Rachel felt tears pricking her eyes all of a sudden. It was all too much. This morning she had woken up in an apartment she shared with her best friend in the whole world. Now, she was sitting opposite a man that she was clearly having feelings for and she didn't know what the hell was going on.

"I can't," she pleaded, her eyes welling up. Gar tilted his head, still looking serious. Rachel shook her head. "I can't do this."

"Do what?" he pressed, his breath tickling her face. He was close now; it was too much. "What are we doing?"

"I don't know," replied Rachel, her eyes suddenly full of longing. "But I know we shouldn't."

"Why not?" breathed Gar, his eyes flicking down to her lips and then back up again to her blue eyes. "What might happen?"

"I don't know," repeated the young woman, confused to her core. Every part of her wanted to run, yet every part of her wanted to stay. She blinked; their noses were almost touching. They'd never been this close before and it both excited and terrified her. She found some strength to push back "You tell me what might happen."

Gar paused. He stopped moving entirely and his green eyes flickered closed. He took a deep breath then exhaled. Reaching up, he kissed her on the forehead gently. "It's okay, Rachel. Nothing bad will happen. You never need to be scared of me. I'd never hurt you; I promise."

He released her hand, the strange tense air in the room shattering altogether. Rachel blinked, noticing a strange sense of disappointment within her as her heartrate returned to normal. Her hand felt cold all of a sudden, her body shivering in response. He shifted his position a little to give her some space. She swallowed, sensibility returning to her once more.

"I guess we should clear up," she began, licking her lips anxiously and rubbing her hands down her trouser legs to smooth them. "I'll sort this out."

"It's fine, I can give you a hand—"

"No, you cooked. I got it," smiled Rachel, trying to remember how much she cared for her best friend. The rest didn't matter. "You go get some sleep, I'm sure you've got a busy day tomorrow."

Gar nodded, his eyes locking onto hers for a moment. He looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it and stood to his feet. His jovial attitude returned, the one that she knew so well. "Sleep well, beautiful. See you tomorrow."

"Night, Gar."

Rachel busied herself in picking up the bowls and glasses and heading to the kitchenette. She heard his bedroom door close a moment later and let out a relieved breath. What had just happened there? Nothing like that had ever transpired between them. She leaned her arms on the side for a moment, trying to gather her strength.

'This can't be good,' she reasoned in her mind, taking a deep breath. 'This is Gar we're talking about. Your goofball, best friend since school. Your sweet, caring companion. What the hell are you thinking about? He doesn't feel that way about you. That boat sailed a long time ago, remember?'

She didn't want to remember. She'd pushed her strange feelings towards him away a long time ago. Especially ever since...

...no, she didn't want to think about that right now. She shut herself off from everything, a practice she had learned as a small child. Now in her dissociated state, she cleaned the kitchen and washed up in a silent, almost meditative trance.

"Time for bed," she whispered to herself, walking towards her room like a zombie. As the door closed, she contemplated whether things would go back to normal in the morning or not. Somehow, she doubted it.


Review replies:

Mr. Ursine: Thank you :)

EvilGirl24: I hope you enjoyed this chapter too! I've finished the story, so I'll keep uploading regularly until it's done.

Sanzojoe: A familiar face! Thanks so much, I'm glad I didn't disappoint with an attempt at an AU...it's been tricky, keep on letting me know what you think :)