Disclaimer: The intersection of the set of owners of Teen Titans and the set of me is a null set.

Courting Disaster

It was a clear but dark and moonless night. The only illumination that reached Titans Island was the soft glow of the never-sleeping city across the bay and the mellow candlelight that drizzled gently down from a single window on the otherwise lightless Titans Tower.

Beyond that window was a room that many would call gloomy, creepy and even scary, epiteths that were often applied to the owner of the premises, too. Not that she ever gave a damn about people's opinions concerning her, or concerning internal design and decoration.

The sorcerous Titan paced up and down and across her room in nervous irritation. Black, angry mist seeped out of her eyes and left a slowly dissipating trail behind her, the muscles in her jaw bulged as her teeth ground against each other, her pale lips were pressed into an unusually thin, straight line and her hands were clenched into exasperated fists.

Those who didn't know Raven would've found the sight of the annoyed empath somewhat unsettling, maybe even sinister. Those who did know her, however, would already be fleeing for their lives.

Raven was extremely vexed, thoroughly displeased and utterly infuriated. It should come as no surprise that the culprit for her current state of aggravation was a certain green shapeshifter.

"Azar help me, what will it take for him to get a Trigon-cursed clue?" she grumbled sourly to herself. "I know he likes me. I can sense it. Why can't he just go ahead and say it? Am I not making it clear enough that I'm interested in him?"

Pausing her pacing, she closed her eyes and massaged her temples. Maybe, just maybe she'd been going about it wrong all this time. Azar knew she was far from being an expert in flirting or courting, and yet… She prided herself on her sharp mind and the ability to approach any problem in a cool, analytical manner while applying liberal amounts of logic and common sense in order to obtain a solution. Still, her efforts to coax a confession of romantic interest from her green teammate were obviously not bearing any fruit except for a bountiful harvest of frustration.

The half-demon forced herself to breathe deeply and regularly while she droned quietly her mantra. This finally brought some much-needed peace and balance to her spiking emotions. A lot calmer now, she endeavored to review critically, logically and dispassionately her actions in order to find any faults, uncertainties or ambiguities that may have confused the pointy-eared object of her affection.

"Gar is not stupid, even if he does manage to hide that fact quite successfully," she mused to herself. "He should've noticed I stopped pushing him away."

That, at least, she could consider a solid fact. It's been no less than two weeks since she last slapped him for behaving like an idiot, and she hasn't thrown him into the ocean (as much as he deserved it several times for being obnoxious) for more than a month now. Her sarcastic put-downs were also a lot milder as of recently, but that was something she could safely assume as having only minor effectiveness, considering Garfield's doubtful capacity to discern the nuances of contumely.

"By Azar, this is hopeless!" she yelled at the wall in frustration. What was she supposed to do? How ludicrously conspicuous, how preposterously straightforward, how glaringly obvious did she have to be for him to take the hint? Will she have to simply grab him and kiss him in front of everyone? Show up naked in his room and say "Take me?" Laugh at his inane jokes? To what depths of absurdity would she have to descend?

A deep, pained sigh tore itself out of her chest. This 'Love' thing was certainly inconvenient in the extreme. She was right to avoid it all these years. It sure looked like way too much hassle for way too small a reward. A few flowers, a couple of dinners and – Ugh! – kissing.

No, definitely not. Once they became a couple, she'd have to speak seriously with Garfield and put a stop to such unhygienic behavior right away. The very thought was… disturbing, to have his lips touching hers ever so lightly, gliding along so soft and warm and gentle and loving before pressing harder, demanding and hungry, his tongue probing shyly at first and then with more confidence, as his wish to taste her and love her became overwhelming, dragging both of them to the brink of the abyss they so much wanted to fall into, while their hands reached clumsily for each other and their mouths sought each other's taste and bare, heated skin cried to touch naked, burning skin slick with sweat and perfumed with lust and –

Raven blinked, startling herself out of it. She rubbed her arms to get rid of the tingling goosebumps that spread all over them. Yes, she would definitely have to draw a line there.

After she tried it once or twice, of course. Just for the sake of knowledge.

Anyway, her fantasies weren't helping. She needed to get back to her original quandary.

What to do?

Starfire would know, of course. She was the expert, nay, the Master – with a capital 'M' – of flirting and seduction. Gar may be clueless, but Raven was certain he'll buckle eventually under her admittedly somewhat amateurish efforts. Richard, on the other hand… she shuddered and whispered a quick prayer of gratitude to Azar. Had she fallen in love with the leader of the Titans instead of the team's goofball, her love life would've been a grim one indeed. Yes, they were very much alike, but the main similarity between them was that they were both so emotionally constipated that they'd never be able to work up to any sort of normal relationship.

A small smile appeared on her face as she remembered the many wiles and charms used by her alien friend on the hapless Boy Blunder. One incident in particular floated up from her subconscious memory…

-=oOo=-

Raven always considered it strange that the otherwise fully-equipped Tower didn't have bathrooms in every bedroom. There was only one bathroom per level, which basically meant the girls shared one while the boys shared another. The sorceress's need for privacy made her complain about it on several occasions, but Robin always dismissed her repeated requests by pointing out the more urgent need for upgrading the security, fortifying the defenses, expanding the power capacity or improving the training course. Unsurprisingly, Cyborg also waved her demands away, his highest priority obviously being the latest upgrade to his 'baby'. Even when Raven managed to put it to a vote, Starfire sided with Robin and Cyborg, leaving Raven and Beast Boy in the losing minority.

The demoness was a little upset with her best female friend, convinced that the Tamaranean voted against her only because she doted on the traffic-light-costume-wearing boy. It wasn't until a chance meeting a few days later that she understood the real reason behind Starfire's betrayal.

It was after another sleepless night she spent fighting as much the frustration with Beast Boy's failure to notice her innuendos as the nightmares her father saw fit to torture her with. Craving a hot, relaxing cup of tea she noticed it was almost time for the Boy Wonder to wake up and take his morning shower. If she hurried she could get half an hour of soothing privacy in the Common room until he joined her for his coffee-and-newspapers morning ritual.

Raven was arguably the stealthiest of the Titans, the title challenged only by her clue-deficient crush's feline grace. It was thus that she was able to witness the entire scene without being noticed.

With a towel thrown over his shoulder, Robin was already on his way to the boy's bathroom. Raven floated silently behind him headed for the Common room, shrouded in shadows and blending with the early dawn penumbra; unseen, unheard and unfelt. Just as her leader reached the bathroom its door opened releasing a cloud of delicately scented steam out of which a vision of female beauty emerged. Her eyes shone like those of a lazy cat's through the vanishing wisps of vapor; her smile dazzled both eyes and mind; her skin glowed a flushed golden hue from the hot water and her body was wrapped in a small towel that suggested much, much more than it covered.

It was a sight that spiked tiny wedges of doubt underneath the Azarathian's conviction of her own heterosexuality. Unfortunately for Robin, he had no such defenses. The effect on the masked vigilante was utterly devastating.

"Many apologies for using your bathroom, friend!" Starfire addressed the slack-jawed, wide-eyed young man in a crooning, purring voice that dispelled any doubts about whether Tamaraneans were in fact descended from large feline-like predators. "Friend Raven was taking her shower in our bathroom and I did not have the wish to wait until she finished."

Melded with the shadows, an undetected and undetectable Raven lifted a puzzled eyebrow at the blatant lie before understanding of the redhead alien's true intention glimmered in her mind. A corner of her mouth quirked slightly up and she faded through the wall, not wishing to interfere or disturb the tall beauty while she hunted her prey. If anything, it would give Raven a lot more than just a half-hour of private time in the Common room.

-=oOo=-

The sorceress chuckled at the memory, both her demonic and her human aspects recognizing and admiring the work of a True Master. Ah, it would be so wonderful if she could be so flirty, so… girly. With powers like that, Garfield would be eating out of her hand already.

For a moment she frowned as the wispy fingers of an unexpected thought scratched gently at the back of her mind, before her eyes widened as she understood. The idea crystallized suddenly in her mind and her face muscles squeaked as they were forced into an expression that she barely ever used.

She grinned.

The cloak fluttering behind her, she floated quickly to her room to figure out the details and put her new plan into action.

-=oOo=-

An exceptional predator, Starfire relied on her prey's behavior and weaknesses while stalking him. Indeed, you could set your watch by the young acrobat's daily routine. Unfortunately, Raven was unable to count on any sense of timeliness or periodicity when it came to the green morpher. The only thing she was certain about was that Garfield would oversleep and wake up somewhere around noon.

But the resident demoness was not without some capabilities of her own, such as her empathic sense. She could feel when Gar's emotions switched from sleeping to waking, and knowing well her quarry she was confident that she would have ample time to go to the boy's bathroom, shower and primp herself before springing the trap on the unsuspecting green youth.

All she needed was a little luck – it wouldn't do at all to have, say, Cyborg show up just as she tried to use the bathroom – and lots of patience. Fortunately, she always had patience to burn. Unfortunately, for some reason she forgot completely where she left it.

Her heel tapped incessantly on the floor as she sat on her bed and attempted to read while waiting for Beast Boy to wake up. Her eyes were constantly pulled from the meaningless jumble of words on the pages spread in her lap to her bedside clock. The damn thing was mocking her, ticking off the minutes slower than pouring cold honey from a jar. She couldn't remember time ever passing this sluggishly, worse even than on her sixteenth birthday when all she wanted was for the day to be over.

Finally – Finally! – she sensed the nuances of his emotions sharpen into wakefulness. Foremost among them was the desire for warmth and comfort, the wish to cuddle and hold and love, the need to have her beside him and kiss sleepily her shoulder and entwine their legs while his body and his arms folded around her in a snug, perfect fit.

She bit her lip as her heart shuddered in warm convulsions at the feeling. Garfield, you idiot! she thought with much annoyed affection. Stop wishing and do something about it already!

Her lips curled into a small smirk. Oh, Gar, have I got a surprise in store for you! she continued her musings as she teleported straight into the boys bathroom. She glanced at the mirror and frowned. Was she overdoing it? What if Garfield loses it and jumps her then and there? Searing electric sparks tingled down her spine and pooled in her lower belly as she thought about it, suddenly confused and torn between fear and desire. She took a deep breath and centered herself, then gazed resolutely and defiantly at her own reflection. If that happens I'll teleport us to my room, and what'll be will be, she decided firmly and bent to adjust the temperature of the shower to just below scalding.

-=oOo=-

Raven took her time showering, relying on her empathy to tell her when Garfield was approaching. She didn't skimp on the shampoo and the shower gel, knowing that he liked her scent. He was careful to hide it from her, but the sudden rushes of love and desire bursting from him were easy to correlate with the flaring of his nostrils and the deep breaths he took.

It was time. She could almost hear him grumble as he got up and searched for a clean towel. She quickly rinsed herself and stepped out of the shower while leaving the hot water still running. Special effects were not only the domain of movies.

A small imperfection in her plan startled her. The mirror was completely misted over, and the abundance of steam in the small bathroom meant that even if she wiped it clean it would soon blur again. She would have to hurry.

The towel went around her, the lower part covering the critical areas with the faintest trace of modesty while the upper part hung precariously on the very edge of her breasts. The end impression was that the slightest movement could make it fall and reveal fully her naked, voluptuous figure to his hungry eyes.

It was just the effect she was going for.

She felt him getting nearer. Another quick check in the mirror – Oh, sweet Azar, her wet hair was plastered to her skull, it just won't do – she ran her power through it and gave it some volume while it still remained soaked, tiny droplets scurrying down her neck to disappear in her cleavage, making the eyes follow them to exactly the place she wanted.

Perfect.

She cast a last, half-lidded, smoldering glance at the mirror and finally assured she was as ravishing as she'll ever be she opened the door and followed the cloud of steam out.

-=oOo=-

It was everything she hoped for. She caught him right in the middle of a stretch and a yawn, with one arm behind him, the other up over his head, his mouth wide open and his eyes goggling dramatically while he stood staring at her in frozen disbelief, unable to move, think or even breathe.

"Oh, hello, Gar," Raven's imitation of Starfire's crooning purr was masterful. She didn't have to practice it much; it came naturally to her. She was half-demon, after all. The same went for the sleepy, demure but at the same time totally scorching gaze she directed into the poor boy's green eyes. Garfield tried to gulp, an extremely difficult and complex operation made even harder by the fact that he was unable to close his mouth.

"Starfire used up all the hot water in our shower," Raven lied smugly. Hey, if Starfire was so brazen to use the empath as a scapegoat she would gladly return the favor. Never mind that the Tower's water supply came from a geothermal desalination and heating plant deep under the basement and that it was virtually impossible to use it all up unless one needed the entire Pacific Ocean for a shower.

Garfield blinked, his brain slowly processing her words while his eyes eagerly feasted on the sight of tiny water droplets glittering like jewels on silky, pale skin heated to blushing pinkness and of the soft curves and dips and mounds barely hidden under that tiny towel; as he breathed deeply of the well-known scent of her shampoo and shower gel under which he could still discern her own essence of incense and beeswax and aromatic herbs…

Water. Hot. None left.

Shower.

Cold.

Cold shower.

Yes, I need a cold shower.

And I need to breathe.

Raven reveled in the resounding success of her plan as she drank in his emotions, but for now her purpose was accomplished and her target was achieved. It was time to leave him and let him breathe again. He now knew what he was missing. If that didn't kick him into action, nothing would.

She closed the bathroom door and turned, intent on brushing her hip against his thigh before she walked away with an inviting and oh-so-promising strut.

It was then that disaster struck and everything she planned for so carefully crashed and burned around her.

Unnoticed, the closing door snagged a corner of the towel. Raven finished her turn and stepped forward. She felt a small tug, so light she didn't pay attention until the towel unraveled around her and fluttered in stunned slow motion to the floor.

Garfield's world screeched to an abrupt stop, the image before him searing itself into his mind at the expense of all other brain functions.

Time flowed like frozen molasses for Raven. Thoughts formed slowly in her mind, superimposed over her perception of the boy she loved. His already wide-open eyes looked ready to pop out of his head and a slow trickle of blood started flowing out of his nose. His breath wheezed sharply in, never to come back out.

Her arms rose slowly, too slowly, to end crossed over her chest. She tried to bend and hide but she seemed to be immersed in thick tar. Gradually and unhurriedly she slid down the wall until an hour later she ended up on the floor, her legs folded in front of her with the ankles crossed, hugging herself in an attempt to hide her unexpected nakedness. Short, quick, dry sobs began shaking her shoulders.

She lifted her head. Tears of shame, rage and panic glistened on her lashes. The sight finally broke through Garfield's mental paralysis and he crouched before her lifting a shaky, concerned hand to touch her wet cheek.

"Rae, are you okay?"

"Garfield Logan!" she screamed while trying to huddle into the smallest, most compact human ball possible. "Stop staring at me and get me that towel!"

Gar pulled back, startled, as his still-dazed brain fought to understand her command. "Uh… Yeah! Yeah, right away!" he blurted as a fierce blush burned its way onto his face. He turned to the door and tugged at the towel but it was firmly pinched between the door and the frame. He yanked at it in frustration a few times, looking over his shoulder for any place to rest his eyes, any place that was not her.

"The door, you idiot! Open the door!" her desperate cry made him wince at his own confusion and focus on the job he had to do. With his head turned away and his eyes squeezed firmly shut he groped for the opening sensor and was soon rewarded with the swish of the door opening. He lowered his hand and patted the floor until he felt the fabric of the towel under his fingers.

For a moment he wondered why Raven didn't just magic the towel over, or open a portal under herself and slip into it, or turn into that ethereal black bird and fly away, or create a black magic blindfold over his eyes, or do any of the thousand-and-one things she could do besides depending on a guy too confused, concerned and awestruck to think clearly.

He pushed the inane question out of the way. Whatever the reason, Raven needed his help and he could do no less than be there for her.

He thrust his arm out, the towel clutched in his hand. With his eyes still welded shut and his head twisted as far to the side as it would go he took a few careful, mincing steps forward.

Raven straightened a little and her hand rose to grasp the offered fabric. Garfield stepped closer. His foot landed on a trailing corner of the towel. Interestingly enough, it was the same corner that got stuck between the door and the frame earlier.

Gar tripped and fell forward with a startled cry, landing on something soft and warm that gave off a shriek. There was much thrashing and shouting and tangling of appendages until a sweet, bewitching scent he knew so well filled his nostrils. His lids fluttered open at last and he found himself gazing dumbfounded into the deep amethyst of her eyes, now filled with shame and sorrow and regret.

It pierced his heart like an acid-coated blade. His breath caught in his throat but he managed to croak out a hoarse "Rae…?" before he became aware of their position.

He was laying on top of her, his hips wedged between her legs, the firm mounds of her breasts flattened against his chest, her lips so close to his own that he could feel the hot spice of her panting on his face and hear the crazy drumming of her heart, the heat of her body searing his skin under the Doom Patrol uniform, the heaviness of shock and panic in her scent suddenly overthrown by a heady, intoxicating musk of excitement that made his head spin and his thoughts falter.

His head somehow got heavier and dropped lower and tilted slightly to allow their lips to touch gently, fleetingly, hesitantly, quickly getting drunk on each other's taste as the hunger to feel more rushed through both of them. Their lips parted for a couple of fast, gasping breaths before fusing together again, this time eagerly and needfully –

"WHAT THE HELL? WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK YOU'RE DOING? AND RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALLWAY? DON'T YOU GUYS HAVE ROOMS? AAAAAAARGH!"

Garfield sprang up, his face as red as a tomato. "Cy, wait, it's not what it looks like!" he shouted after his best friend, but the half-robot ignored him, running away screaming about deleting the information from his circuits and demanding lye eye-wash to scrub the memory from his organic components.

The green youth facepalmed and let out a long, frustrated groan before turning to Raven. She was just vanishing through a black portal yawning on the floor, at last remembering she could do all that magic stuff.

The portal shrank and winked out. Beast Boy was left alone in the hallway. The starter in his brain coughed into life and like the engine of an old car on a cold winter morning his rationality turned over once, twice, thrice before it finally picked up the spark and began working again.

The enormity of what just happened slammed into him like a freight train.

He'd kissed Raven.

He'd kissed a naked Raven.

He'd kissed a naked Raven while laying on top of her.

He was a dead man.

-=oOo=-

Garfield hoped he was a dead man.

He was sprawled out on the lower bunk in his room, his mind unable to wrench itself away from pondering the punishment he was sure to receive soon enough from an enraged half-demon.

Knowing what Raven was capable of, a simple, quick death right now looked very appealing. It certainly beat the possibility of being thrown into an unnameable Pit of Hell to suffer several thousand years of endless torture.

Four short, sharp knocks came from the door.

Garfield was never one to listen to classical music, but like just about everyone else he'd heard the opening phrases of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. He remembered Raven explaining once that it was also called the Destiny Symphony, because the guy that wrote it intended its ominous beginning to represent the sound of Destiny knocking at one's door.

He could totally appreciate the comparison now.

"Garfield Mark Logan!" an icy voice spoke behind the door. "You better open up, right now!"

He gulped. A coldness filled his gut, as if he'd swallowed the frozen core of a dead comet. He shook his head; comparing Raven to a comet was unfair. Yes, they were both beautiful and dangerous, but if a comet crashed into Jump City it would obliterate it completely, killing tens of millions of people on the spot while the rest of Humanity would slowly extinguish through cold, famine and disease brought up as a consequence of the impact, until the Human race became extinct and the Earth was taken over by rats and cockroaches.

Compared to what a pissed-off Raven could do, it was small peanuts.

"Garfield!" his musings were shattered by the grim threat compressed into the name's few letters. "My patience is rapidly being exhausted!"

"Uh, yeah, I'm coming!" he answered promptly, jumped up from the bunk and opened the door. He had no other option. He couldn't run or hide. His only hope for a swift, clean death was in the most expedient compliance with her wishes.

The door sighed open and she walked inside. After his recent growth spurt she was now shorter than him, but her petite form was in no way less intimidating. She approached and poked him in the chest with an irritated finger.

"This has gone on long enough, Garfield!" she snapped. "I'm sick and tired of it all. Sick of your attitude and tired of your cluelessness!"

He shuffled his feet and rubbed the back of his head."Uh, I'm sorry, Rae…"

"Your apologies are not good enough, Gar!" she growled while folding her arms across her chest. "There's only one way to rectify it."

Garfield tried to swallow to relieve a suddenly parched throat. Raven snorted and leaned closer.

"You are taking me out on a date this Friday," she said as she poked him in the chest again. "I'll leave the choice of places to you, within the following constraints," her hand lifted as she prepared to count the points on her fingers.

"One, no crowds. Two, no idiotic zombie movies. Three, no tofu. Do you understand?"

Garfield's mind froze again as one single word rolled over it like a bowling ball in a perfect strike that sent all the pins of his rationality crashing down, before it continued onwards to tumble out of his mouth.

"Date?"

Her eyes narrowed and her arms folded over her chest again. "Yes."

The synapses of his neurons fired desperate sparks that tried feebly to compete with the thunderstorm raging in his brain. "With you?"

Raven rolled her eyes. "Yes, Gar. With me."

The gerbil that turned the little wheel in Gar's head fainted. "On Friday?" he tried to buy some time while the poor animal was being given CPR and electric shocks.

Raven pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. "Yes, Gar. A date, with me, on Friday. I'm sorry if I'm unable to put it any simpler."

A blinding flash of understanding finally lit up Garfield's mind and burned away all the dust and cobwebs. It was all clear to him now.

He was dead. Raven had killed him, and he was dead and in Heaven.

He grinned widely. "Sure, Rae. I'll take care of everything, dontcha worry." His eyebrows waggled suggestively. "Maybe later we can pick up from where we left off?"

She scowled up at him at first, but her expression quickly softened. She rose on tiptoe and gave him a quick, warm peck on the lips.

"I suppose that's the idea," she smirked and turned to walk out of his room. When the door closed behind her Beast Boy dropped back on the lower bunk and placed his hands under his head, sighing happily.

Being dead sure felt great.