4 months ago:

No one threw a party like Bruce Wayne. He could be a total jerk sometimes, but on the whole he had boundless generosity. He wasn't celebrity famous like most of the guests, either, so he existed in an entirely different realm. Bruce Wayne, Richard Grayson's adoptive father, was filthy stinking rich, famous for Wayne Enterprises. A company that no one could really figure out just what it did. Likely because it just did a little bit of everything.

Raven spotted him talking to a small group of similarly filthy rich business people, looking friendly and polite.

"He's miserable," Dick deduced, appearing at her side. The birthday boy donned a smart three piece suit, the black and white style thrown off by the garish cake themed tie around his neck. A gift from Kori, she presumed. The model had style, but she also liked to have fun.

With a small sip of her water, Raven shrugged. "He didn't have to invite them."

Dick tipped his head back and forth, agreeing and disagreeing at the same time. "I should probably save him."

"It's your birthday," she pointed out flatly. "If Bruce wants to invite stuffy old magnates to your party, the least he can do is distract them from the impressionable youth."

Dick snorted, flashing a crooked grin her way. "Fair enough. How are you doing?"

Suspicious, she squinted at him. "Are you going to lecture me about standing here all by myself?"

His grin grew into an actual smile. "No. You're not going to stand here by yourself for much longer, anyway."

"Much longer? You're already here."

She found his meaning just a second after voicing that observation. More like, the meaning found her, and slung his arm across her shoulders. "'Sup mama?"

Groaning, her eyelids fluttered shut. "Must you?"

Unbothered by her annoyance, he tugged her closer to his side. "I must."

Raven sent Dick a silent S.O.S. via eye contact, but he just smirked and brought a flute of champagne to his lips. Some friend he was. He liked Gar, though, for some reason. He thought Gar might even be good for her, a friend to bring her out of her shell. But she didn't need to come out of her shell. Her shell had served her well these past several years.

Pressing a hand to Gar's side, she extracted herself from his hold. With space between them, still less than she would have liked, she got the chance to observe him. Like Dick, he wore a tailored suit, but only a two piece. His was burgundy, though, and it looked unfairly good on him.

"I thought I'd find you standing all alone," he teased, ruining her admiration of him. At least when she found herself appreciating his appearance, he was quick to snap her out of it by saying something stupid. She should be grateful for that, she supposed.

"I'm not alone. Actually, I'm with the guest of honor."

"Ooh, Raven's got friends in high places. Should I be jealous?"

She cut him a tart glare, which, as usual, made him grin. One of his best friends, he'd said about her. She hadn't been able to figure out why her dark demeanor never deterred him, but apparently she amused him. Like a bear in a cage, his to poke at when he got bored.

Another examination of his smile made her sigh. She wasn't being fair. He agitated her, but she didn't think he was being mean about it. Not really. She was the mean one. Gar couldn't be mean if he tried. She didn't deserve the effort he put into being kind to her.

Dick glanced between them, and she just knew he could sense her thoughts. He was about to leave them. She widened her eyes, warning him not to. Ever the jerk, he widened his eyes right back and left. "Gonna find Kori," he called over his shoulder, tossing a small wave their way after he'd already gone.

She frowned, keeping her stare resolutely on the band across the room. Surprisingly, Gar let the silence linger between them. He didn't leave, though, and neither did she. Although she didn't acknowledge him, she felt his presence, her entire left side taught with the awareness that he stood just a few short inches away.

After several long minutes, Gar sighed, long and loud. "I'm sorry."

Whipping her head to the left so fast that her careful up-do wobbled, Raven blinked. Then blinked again. "You're sorry?"

He shrugged, dipping his chin and watching the floor as he scuffed the toe of his dress shoe against it. Wait, no, that wasn't a dress shoe. Did he seriously wear canvas sneakers with that suit? "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. And I really don't want you to hate me. I'm just… iunno. I swear I'm just trying to be friendly, not obnoxious." He ran a hand through his hair, finally chancing a glance at her. "I guess that's not really working, is it?"

Of all of that, she found herself stuck on just one word. Hate. "I don't… I don't hate you."

That made him smile, but it didn't light up his whole face like it usually would. "You can't even say the sentence straight."

Raven huffed, setting her water on the table behind them and planting her hands on her hips. "I don't hate you, Gar." He didn't seem swayed. "You're not… you-" She cut herself off and closed her eyes, irritated with the way he'd thrown her off. Nothing had prepared her for an apology from him. "You are annoying," she admitted, allowing herself to study his expression. It didn't shift. "And you do make me uncomfortable, sometimes. We're very different people, it's only natural. That doesn't mean I hate you, or that I don't know you're trying to be nice."

His gaze remained guarded in that puzzling way of his, the way that made her wonder if he, secretly, was as jaded as she was. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, refusing to let their eye contact drop. "I consider you to be one of my best friends," she said deliberately, quoting his interview.

Although his smile finally returned, something about it continued to bother her. Almost like, maybe, even though he clearly loved that she considered him a best friend, he was hoping to hear something different.