No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem

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*Author's Note: Aaaaand it looks like I just can't leave my favorite pairing alone. My bad.*

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Part 3: Raven and Jinx

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{Saturday evening}

"Hey, Jade! Catch!"

"What? Aiigh!" Cheshire grimaced and picked the bit of rice noodle off her nose. "You are such an ass."

"And," rejoined Jinx, "you love me for it."

"Or, more accurately stated, because that tongue of yours is so talented, I put up with you in spite of it."

"And accuracy is everything, am I right?"

"Maybe not everything, but …" Her voice trailed off as her eyes flicked to her right. Jinx's gaze instantly followed hers.

Raven, in full uniform, was standing beside their table.

Cheshire's eyes hardened. "You know the rules, here, Titan. No fighting. Just leave her alone."

She may as well have been an invisible mute for all the attention the dark girl paid her. The hooded purple eyes were locked on Jinx's pink – and all-too-plainly panicked – ones. Raven slowly extended an arm, turned her hand over, and a thin, silver, serpentine chain hissed into a pile on the table. She tucked her arm back into her cloak and said, in a voice totally devoid of any sort of feeling, "You left that behind." Then she turned a brief glance of – could it be pity? – toward Cheshire, and vanished in a whirl of black mist.

Jinx let her breath go. "Fuckin' hell."

"What did you do to her? I've been hearing rumors for over a week that she's really, uh, ramped up her enthusiasm where fighting is concerned."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Yeah, well. Word is it's because you two had a falling out."

"Hey, it's not my fault! I told her when we started stepping out that I didn't want an exclusive relationship. She's just being … hard headed."

"She's hard headed? That's a total laugh coming from you."

Jinx crossed her arms and pouted. "Everybody's a critic."

Cheshire reached across and took her date's thin hand. "You gonna be okay?"

"… Yeah. She'll get over it. Eventually." She chuckled without much humor. "I'll just have to fly under the radar until she does."

##

{Tuesday, mid-morning}

Two old men sat at the bar nursing drinks, and two old couples held an animated political conversation at one of the larger booths. Aside from them, Benny's was empty. The dumpy, middle-aged owner called his waitress over and leaned toward her across the bar. "Madge, I'm gonna take fifteen out back. You okay to preside?"

"No worries, Boss." She indicated a small whistle on a lanyard around her neck. "Anything weird goes down, I'll tweet."

He gave her a nod and stepped through a small door, pulling it closed behind him. Madge turned an eye toward the men and the bar, judged their drinks currently sufficient, and wended her way over to the table.

A few minutes later a tall, spare fellow in a black-and-white sweatsuit, with a little dark brush of a goatee decorating his chin, came in and went immediately to the small booth farthest from the door. Madge sashayed over and handed him a menu. "What's yer pleasure, Hon?"

"Your 'Endless Coffee', please. Light cream."

"Comin' up."

The man pulled a thin notebook from inside his suit and scribbled in it until she returned.

Madge set a mug and a small cream pitcher on the smooth surface and poured him about three-quarters of a cup, leaving the coffee pot there in front of him. "You need anything else? Waffle? Eggs?"

He picked up the pitcher and added a generous amount of cream. "Yes, two eggs, please."

"How you want those?"

"Over light."

She cocked an eyebrow at him and fought down a smirk. "Sure thing, Hon. You want some toast with 'em?"

"Yes, that sounds good."

"Lemme guess. Light toast?"

"That would be great, thank you."

"Sure thing. Back in five."

He held the heavy ceramic mug up to his nose and drew a long sniff, then blew on it gently and took a careful sip. He knew that, despite the cream, it would still be very hot, and didn't fancy a burned mouth. Eyes closed, he pursued this activity in quiet pleasure, ignoring the door chime announcing someone else's arrival. After a few more sips he turned his attention back to his notebook, bent over it and wrote in great concentration until Madge returned with his breakfast.

The toast was perfect, just the faintest hint of golden brown on the high spots, and the eggs done exactly as he preferred them. He gave the waitress a hopeful glance and asked, "Would you happen to have any hot sauce?"

"What kind?"

"Oh, I like that question! Do you carry the Tabasco brand chipotle sauce?"

She pulled a bottle from her apron. "This stuff?"

He crowed in delight and eagerly received the condiment. Putting several dashes on the toast, he then placed the eggs on top and cut off a good-sized bite. Chewing in reflective enjoyment, he grinned beneficently at Madge. "Wonderful!"

"Okay, Hon, you just let me know if you need anything else."

"I shall. Thank you. And pass on my compliments to the cook."

She nodded and swished over to the recent arrival, a short girl in black jeans and a purple jacket with the hood pulled up, perched in the booth in the center of the front wall. The instant he caught sight of her, the man felt a distinct chill, but he shrugged it off and continued with his meal.

The girl gave her order to the waitress and then sat back in her booth, drawing her legs up onto the seat; a cup of tea sat steeping in front of her. The man did his best to ignore her, but was finally compelled to sneak a couple of peeks her way. Both times, she looked like she was staring off out the window. He didn't get a look at her face.

Madge came back to his table a couple of times, once to clear away his dishes and another to bring him a fresh pot of coffee. He thanked her and gave her a ten, which covered his food and a decent tip. After stirring up another cup of the aromatic beverage, he rested his elbows on the table and wrapped both hands around the mug, closing his eyes and allowing the warm steam to wreathe his face.

Not many seconds had passed that way before that sudden chill came back. His eyes flew open …

She was standing there, right at his table. Her hands were in her jacket pockets and her hood was still up, but he could see her eyes. He had seen those eyes before. Oh, yes.

His hands began to shake and he abruptly set his mug down. Pointing a trembling finger at the girl, he jabbered, "Y-you stay away! Can't – can't touch me here! Rules! The rules!"

Slowly her head shook back and forth. Uninflected, her voice a complete deadpan, she responded, "Don't want to."

His arm lowered. "Then … why …"

"Didn't know you were here. But I felt you." She looked up, those purple orbs tracing out a pattern in the ceiling for a few seconds. "This is a good place."

"… What?"

"This café. Benny's. It's a good place. Safe. Frustrating at times, but … safe. Do you understand?"

"Uh … maybe."

"Anyway, Doc, I came over to apologize."

That floored him a little. "Apologize?"

"For the way I treated you." Her voice took on a bit more animation. Was that … regret he heard? "Yes, I realize you were being a jerk, and were engaged in criminal acts at the time. That does not excuse what I did to you."

He was still trying to wrap his brain around the concept of Raven actually apologizing for something.

"I don't really expect you to forgive me. I haven't forgiven myself yet, so that would hardly be reasonable, now, would it? But I thought you should know that I feel … shame for what I did. I am heartily sorry. I should have maintained better control." She turned to walk away.

"Um …"

Stopping, she gave him a quarter profile in silence.

"I … uh …"

"Yes?"

"I … wanted to know …"

She turned more fully toward him, waiting.

"You, ah, didn't seem to be, ah, very sorry at the time."

"I wasn't sorry. But I wasn't … you could say I wasn't fully in charge of my actions, either."

His face bespoke confusion. "Well … what I mean to say is … Why?"

"Why, what?"

"… You really are sorry, aren't you?"

"Yes." It was a simple answer, and its simplicity reached him. She didn't try to excuse her behavior. She merely expressed regret for it.

"Then is that why you apologized? Did you just want to get it off your chest?"

Regarding him soberly for a moment, she pulled a hand out and indicated the other bench seat. "May I?"

He gave her one terse nod. She sat, clasping her hands together on the table.

"Do you prefer Doctor Light, or just Doctor?"

"These days I prefer 'Arthur'."

Her lips twitched, but didn't quite reach a smile. "Very well. As you know, Arthur, I am an empath. You are also aware that I need to keep a tight rein on my emotions due to the psychic bomb I could drop if things really cut loose."

"I experienced that firsthand, if you will recall."

"Yes, you did. In any case, while you were … let us say 'internally contained', I was in very close proximity to your mind. Your surface thoughts were pretty basic. You were irritated that we'd shown up. You wanted to get away. You wanted to best the Titans – which you did, mostly – so you could receive the prestige that would come along with doing so. At the time I didn't bother probing any deeper. I had a job to do. Then, after you took down my friends and I lost my temper, I … had some revenge to extract."

Perhaps the fact that she said all of this in a totally calm, factual manner, without injecting any emotional baggage into the narration, helped him to maintain his placid demeanor. He was seeing and comprehending her side of their story. It was quite a novel experience.

"Later, however, after I had calmed myself down, and after you were no longer held in my soul-self, I had time for reflection. And looking into your mind, I could not really stay … angry with you."

His confusion must have shown on his face, because she clarified, "It was this way: you had this … deep-seated need to be liked. You wanted friends. At the time, all you had was associates, and many of them either didn't understand anything you did, or they actively disliked you." She gave her head a decisive shake. "No one should have to live like that. But when you saw us, you saw, not the Teen Titans, primarily, not a team of crime-fighting heroes; no, what you perceived was a close-knit group of friends. You envied us."

He looked away. "Yeah. So?"

"So … I know what that's like."

"What what's like?"

"That feeling of being terribly alone, of wanting something for yourself that everyone else on the planet already seems to have."

"But … you just said … they were your friends."

"And so they are. But I could never be close to them, never show them, demonstrably, how much I cared for them. To do so would be to tempt chaos and destruction. It would put them in harm's way, and it would be my fault. I could not do that."

"Huh." He leaned back against his seat, toying with his now-empty mug. "Okay, so maybe you do get it."

"And recently … I've, ah, had it brought home to me – in terms I could not misunderstand – what a precious and fragile thing a relationship is. I know it is not the same as your situation, but please know that I can sympathize with your feeling of being alone." She slid out of the booth and slid her hands back into her pockets. "That's all I really wanted to say."

It was then that the door chimed again. Raven was standing between Dr. Light and the door, so he couldn't see who had come in. He had an excellent view of Raven's face, though, and knew instantly that something was up. Her eyes went sad and cold, and she slumped a little. Black mist crept up from around her feet.

A high, feminine voice shrieked, "Don't you dare run away again!"

The mist vanished. But Raven didn't budge.

Feet stomped over, and then Jinx, of all people, was standing beside the dark Titan, who did not acknowledge her presence. Dr. Light took in the situation at once, eased out of his booth, and walked very quickly out the door.

Carefully, Jinx place a thin serpentine chain on the table near Raven. "I didn't 'forget' it. I gave it to you. It's yours."

Raven's voice was dead. "It was part of a package deal that, you might say, fell through. So I couldn't really keep it, could I?"

Jinx moved around so she could be face to face with the stoic girl, so Raven could see the tear tracks and the mussed makeup, if she happened to look at Jinx's face. Which she didn't. "Look, Rae, I fucked up. I know that."

The purple eyes flicked up and then back down. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Go on."

"I've … got issues. You know that. Knew that. My head ain't screwed on straight. You knew that when we first … you know. Hell, Rae, I rob jewelry stores and then forget where I stashed the damn loot! I rob banks, not for the money but 'cause it's fun! And 'cause … 'cause I'd get to see you."

Raven met her eyes steadily then. "But I wasn't enough, was I?"

"Aw, fuck, Rae, I don't know!" She threw her arms up and started pacing back and forth.

"We're built differently, Jenny. I don't have the … emotional stability to be able to deal with your … little toys."

She stopped. "Toys? The hell?"

"Your peccadillos."

The light came on. "You mean Cheshire."

"And Argent."

"Argent? But that was just … we aren't … she was just a lark!"

"I don't do 'larks', Jenny."

"But …"

"And Shimmer."

"Shimmer's just a friend!"

"Shimmer ate you out."

"… Okay, she's a good friend. And she thinks I'm cute. But, anyhow, she's with Deathstroke now!"

"Now? She jumped your bones last week!"

"I dunno, Rae! She's more random than I am. I can't figure her out."

"And I can't figure you out. You seem to be … distraught that I'm upset. Like you can't understand it. Either that or you're afraid of me, and that I just can't handle."

"I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid of hurting you."

"Obviously not too afraid, since you've been doing it ever since we …"

"But I don't mean to!"

"Does that really make any difference?"

"It does to me!"

Raven glanced back over her shoulder at the other patrons. All other conversations had stopped as their argument escalated, and the emotional weight was crowding the empath. Turning back to Jinx, who was crying again, she said, "We should continue this discussion elsewhere." Black mist wrapped them both and they winked out. A few seconds later, another little pod of mist surrounded the serpentine chain, and it vanished as well.

Madge glanced over at the space the two girls had occupied, snickered, and shook her head. "Drama, drama, drama." Then a gorgeous redhead covered with a vine-and-leaf motif walked in and looked around, and Madge called out, "Hi! Welcome to Benny's!"

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*Author's End Note Number One: Well, here's another one in the can. Any specific pairings (or triplings, or whatever) that you want to see, drop me a line.*

*Author's End Note Number Two: Shortly following the events in this story comes an awesome tale from 100 Silver Wings: "Second Fiddle in the Scheme of Life", which will comprise Part 4 of the Saga of Benny's Breakfast House. Thanks Hundreds of Metric TONS, Miss Wings! Please go check it out - - - there is a hotlink to the story in my Profile, which I STRONGLY ENCOURAGE you to follow!*

Later!

Concolor44