Hmm, what interesting little note can I leave this week? I really don't know. For those who care, I have a cold. Go me! To add stupid to unfortunate, I've refused to take it easy and say "yeah, I'm sick." Really, doing that would be academic suicide. So much make-up work. :shudderes: I think I'll let you all go now. If you read this note, yeah... Enjoy this weeks update. We get to look at character development. Whoop!

Disclaimer: Balkoth does not own Teen Titans. Balkoth owns very little, to be perfectly honest. This is why I am so proud of the things that I do own. One such example is the writings and plot of Of Gumshoes and Moonlighters. If you enjoy please say so. If you hate please say so. If you steal, that is really uncool.

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The Change

Birds were chirping the next morning and the sound drifted up through the window. The only other sounds were the dependable click of a watch as the seconds drifted by and a deep-throated snore. The drab walls of the claustrophobic office were painted a dull beige that was slowly giving way to the dry wall underneath. A mahogany desk with a back left leg slightly shorter than all the others was in plain view of the door while a small, more cluttered and inhabited looking metal desk was off to the side facing the window.

Usually, Richard would already be behind his immaculate wooden desk – a newspaper or two already read through – when Garfield entered carrying breakfast from Bruegger's or some other store. Today was a little different. The door swung open and stopped only after banging into the wall. Garfield jerked his head off Richard's desk and forced his blurry eyes to see who had just entered the office with so much obvious enthusiasm. Garfield had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn't still asleep.

"Morning, Gar!" Richard called while tossing a sesame-seed bagel with cucumbers, tomatoes, and sprouts to his partner. The wrapped bagel landed two inches from Garfield's stunned face. "How are you?"

Richard took a moment to study Garfield before deciding that he wasn't doing well. Garfield's clothes were ruffled and stained with either liquor, vomit, or a combination of the two. The usual electric spark was absent from his eyes, his hair resembled a nest of thatch, and there was a slight pulsing in his left temple. Richard had a general idea of what had happened.

Garfield opened his mouth to speak but only a dry rasp managed to escape. On the second try, he managed, "Softer."

Richard sighed and lowered his voice a little. "How was last night?" Richard knew that Garfield had gone to Big Moe's to do a little digging but he didn't have any details. When Garfield finally managed an intelligent sentence, maybe they could do a little work. Still, there was no harm in giving the poor guy a chance to recuperate.

"Taylor bachelor party," Garfield mumbled before letting his pounding head drop to the desk. A pitiful moan was his only reaction to slamming his head onto the desk.

Richard decided that Garfield had probably meant something along the lines of; "Taylor had a bachelor party." Richard closed his eyes and let the fact that his partner was too incapacitated to use verbs properly soak in. Surprisingly, it didn't bother him that much.

"Really?" Richard asked while moving over to Garfield's desk and sitting down. "How was that?" While Richard waited for Garfield to process the question and piece together an answer, he started gathering up one of Garfield's unfinished solitaire games.

"We were pouring champagne over each other," Garfield mumbled, his voice not quite certain if it wanted to sound miserable or ecstatic.

Richard crinkled his nose briefly. The impression that Richard was getting was that Garfield was wasted, and it appeared that after they poured champagne over each other they'd wrestled in dirt. Either Garfield had lost or the losers were in a very sorry state.

"You had fun, then?" Richard asked while shuffling the cards so he could set up his own game.

"I think so," Garfield responded while raising his head to look at Richard. "There might have been strippers there. I don't remember." Garfield lowered his head to the desk again, this time a little more slowly.

Richard chuckled good-naturedly at Garfield's behavior. "Was the bachelor party before or after you went to Big Moe's?" Richard started setting up a solitaire game while Garfield fumbled through his pockets for an Aspirin.

An hour later, Garfield was a little better for wear. "Here's the thing, Dick. Some Hispanic dude just inherited the last artifact and about two hundred grand from relatives he didn't know he had. There's this brand new house being built. The window The Raven's likely to go through opens up on moving day. Everything's going to move around and an extra body won't be noticed. Moving day is gonna be a while from now, though."

Richard polished off his bagel and darted his tongue around his lips. Then, he tilted his head back in thought before crumpling up the bagel wrapper and tossing it into the trashcan next to the door. "So, we need to find the plot the house is getting built on and talk to this guy. Do we know where he lives or when he's moving?"

"Not a clue," Garfield admitted with a regretful shrug.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Garfield asked with raised eyebrows. "Dick, are you feeling all right?" Garfield slowly eased himself out of his chair and placed his palm on Richard's forehead. Richard just smirked because he thought he knew what Garfield was getting at.

"I think you're sick, dude. You were cheerful this morning, you brought me breakfast," Garfield gestured to his still unopened bagel before continuing. "You didn't yell at me for being hung-over, you didn't single-mindedly ask me about what I learned last night, and you just said it was okay that we were missing a vital piece of information. I think somebody is having a positive influence on you," Garfield declared while crossing his arms across his chest.

Richard chuckled. "Since when did you count as a positive influence, Gar?"

"Not me," Garfield said with a sad shake of his head, which solicited a wince because of his still pounding headache, "Rachel."

Richard nodded his head absently and only the faint twist of his lips betrayed his thoughts. Garfield might be right. That was a scary thought. Rachel was definitely having some effect on Richard. Richard would have liked to know what exactly it was. The answer was proving allusive.

"What's his name?" Richard asked. Even if they didn't know where the guy lived, if they had his name, they could try and find something out.

Garfield looked at Richard for a moment before remembering whom Richard was asking about. Then he did the most bizarre thing. Garfield took off his left shoe, followed by his sock. Garfield then proceeded to turn the sock inside out. Written in smeared black ink on the fabric was a name. "Miguel Rodriguez-Herrera," Garfield read. "Wow, these guys have awesome names!" Then Garfield replaced his footwear.

"Gar," Richard started, "what position were you in where it was convenient for you to write that inside of your sock?" Even as Richard asked, he decided it was a question best left unanswered. Garfield seemed to feel the same because he didn't respond.

"We're hitting the phone books?" Garfield asked with a resigned sigh while beginning to unwrap his bagel.

"Are you crazy, Gar?" Richard responded with surprise ringing in his voice. That was something new. "Not only would that take way too long but there are probably quite a few Miguel Herrera's in Jump City. Besides, you need to sleep a little," Richard finished. There was no point in running themselves ragged. They knew who had the artifact and surrounding circumstances. There was no way The Raven knew more than them. Besides, Garfield was really annoying when he had a hangover and hadn't gotten enough sleep.

Garfield looked more and more like a living Whack-A-Mole with every word that came out of Richard's mouth. This was not the Richard Grayson he knew. It was a nice improvement from the original but it was also freaky. Then his eyes began to focus and a knowing grin crept across his face. Garfield started to rub his hands together like a greedy child. "Sleep can wait," Garfield said as zeal overcame his headache. Garfield turned curious eyes toward Richard, "how was last night for you and Rachel?"

"It was fine," Richard said slowly. This reaction was really unnerving. Garfield didn't usually look this enthusiastic about something Richard was doing. One instance of Garfield's enthusiasm that stood out had been during the police barbecue four years ago. That had ended in one of Garfield's practical jokes and Richard being chased by a liter of teething puppies while covered in gravy.

"And?" Garfield pressed while leaning forward in his chair.

"We had dinner, saw a movie, and went for a walk. We talked a little but mostly there was just a really peaceful silence."

Garfield kept staring at Richard with widened green eyes, waiting for Richard to say more. For a guy so obsessed with knowing everything, Richard was really talented at being vague and keeping secrets. Richard just smirked to himself and kept his silence while replaying last night. They had just clicked. There had been something intangible and very strong and it was still there. "Now," Garfield began to ask. Just from the tone of his voice, Richard knew what was coming. "When you say you went for a walk, do you mean you went for a walk or that you…"

"We were just walking, Gar," Richard breathed out. Sometimes Garfield could be so… Garfield-like.

"If you had done more than walk, would you tell me?"

"No."

Garfield shrugged and started in on his bagel. "You're no fun, Dick." Garfield said after swallowing his food. "So, when you go to see Rachel what are your plans?" Garfield asked while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Richard just glared at Garfield behind his sunglasses. This was going to be a very long morning.

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Next Update: Wednesday, September 20, 2006

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