"It isn't what it looked like." It was the most cliched thing she had ever uttered, but as she followed Robin down the corridor, it was the only think she could think to say.

"This is unacceptable. I've given him chance after chance. I can't ignore it anymore." His pace was brisk, making his way to his private quarters.

"You aren't listening to me. What you though you saw . . ."

"I was there long enough to know what was happening. I know what I saw."

"You don't though." Raven had to nearly break into a jog to catch up with her leader. "Stop and listen to me for a minute!" It was unusual for her to raise her voice in such a way, but the man she chased after ignored her shout.

"The older he's gotten the more . . . the more like an uncontrollable animal he's become. I can't have Beastboy attacking his team mates when ever he happens to disagree with them!"

"That isn't true," the empath argued, grabbing at Robin's arm and making him turn toward her. Richard Grayson shook his head and touched her shoulder lightly, lifting his fingertips for both to see. In the florescent light the blood she had all but forgotten about, gleamed.

"This blood is real. Those bites are real. If I hadn't come home early. . . I hate to imagine just how out of control the situation would have spiraled."

"It isn't. . . you don't understand. Beastboy didn't attack me."

"I saw him, Raven. He shoved you up against the wall. He bit hard enough to draw blood. . . several times. I heard you scream." He shook his head sadly. "Why are you trying to protect him?"

"Because he didn't attack me! We were. . ." she trailed off, bringing her hand to her shoulder, blue healing magic beginning to glow.

"Let me take a picture for evidence before you heal it," Robin demanded, but Raven rolled her eyes.

"No crime happened. This isn't evidence, we weren't fighting, Robin."

"Then what were you doing?" His arms crossed and his frown deepened.

"You were all suppose to be gone for the day. We thought we'd be alone for hours."

"I need to file a police report," Robin insisted, turning away from her again. Once more she grabbed at his arm, spinning him around.

"No! We were not fighting. We were. . ." the last word came out so quietly that the other could not hear it.

"What?"

"Playing, okay? We were playing." Little lines appeared on Robin's forehead, his lips twitching slightly.

"Playing," he repeated incredulously.

"Yes."

"You and Beastboy were playing." He spoke the words as if they couldn't possibly all fit together into an intelligible sentence.

"Yes," she insisted more firmly.

"Raven, if you're going to lie to me, at least. . ."

"It isn't a lie. Despite what you think to be true, you don't know every little thing that happens in this Tower."

"Okay, so let's say I'm going to believe that. What are you telling me? You were playing and at some point someone got upset and it turned into. . ."

"What you saw, that was playing."

"The biting?"

"Yes."

"And the shoving?"

"Yes."

"And the screaming too I suppose."

"Yes, that too."

"People don't tend to scream when they're willingly engaged in. . . rough housing." Even if she wasn't an empath she would be able to feel the doubt that dripped from each word.

"High pitched sounds arouse the prey drive in predators. It excites them." Robin's nose scrunched slightly under his mask at her explanation.

"Excites?"

"Right. It's why he drew blood. Because I egged him on, I encouraged it."

"Why would you want. . ." he seemed uncertain, as if he was beginning to think he did not want to know that answer to his own question.

"Because the smell of blood excites us both. Because I'm not completely human and there's a part of me that craves exactly what was happening before you decided to barge in a ruin what was about to be a very eventful evening."

"Oh." It was all he said for a long minute. "So, when you said play you meant more like . . . like, uh foreplay." He seemed to choke on the last word, grimacing as if it possessed a foul taste.

"It wasn't always that way. Gar and I used to play stalking games . . . games where we took turns being the predator and the prey and that's all it was . . . an innocent game. A secret between us, one we figured no one else would understand. Clearly we were right."

"So . . . is . . . is this . . ." she had never seen the Boy Wonder look so impressively uncomfortable in his life. "Are you and Beastboy . . . dating?"

"If you had to put a conventional label on it I guess you would call it that." This didn't seem to put the dark haired man's mind at ease and he sighed wearily.

"I mean. . . you . . . he . . . it's more than a physical thing, right?" Raven crossed her arms over her chest and frowned slightly.

"Why, because you think I'm incapable of possessing deep feelings for someone?"

"I didn't say that."

"So you think Garfield is just a bundle of hormone and animal instinct then? That what's happening couldn't involve more than that?"

"I didn't say that either." He'd gone from looking uncomfortable to utterly miserable. "I just . . . let's put a pin in this. I just came back to the Tower because I forgot . . ." for the life of him he couldn't remember now what he'd returned to retrieve. "Anyway, I'm heading back out. I'll be back a little after midnight."

"Okay," the empath nodded and spun on her heels, walking away.

"Is he gone?" The moment Robin's motorcycle engine revved to life, a green mouse had scurried from beneath the Common Room couch, morphing back into his natural form to ask the relieved question.

"He's gone." The pair stood at the window and stared out over the bay. "Thanks for all the help handling the situation by the way."

"Sorry, Rae. You saw the look on his face, he would have beat me half to death before I'd gotten the first sentence out." A green hand moved to lightly stroke over the curve of her neck and shoulder. All his handy work from earlier had been healed, the proof of their encounter long gone. "What did you tell him?"

"The truth."

"Really? How'd that go?"

"Well, SWAT isn't storming the Tower to take you into custody, so pretty well I suppose." A soft, amused sound rose from the empath. "He looked a little like he might faint. Or vomit. Possibly both, actually."

"Do you think he's really gone for the evening now?"

"Definitely."

"Well then," he growled, licking his lips. "You better run fast, little bird. 'Cause when I catch you I'm going to eat . . . you . .. .alive."