Title: Quiet Observations

Rating: K

Word Count: 800

Song: Valentine's Day

Notes: About 5-6 years in the future.

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I used to be my own protection.

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He watched her when no one was looking; he studied her and tried to figure her out. She was a mystery he just could not fathom, an endless enigma. She considered every action before taking it, seemed to rethink every remark before saying it, and seemed to take great pains to ensure she never grew too attached to any one person or thing. She intrigued him, simple as that.

She undoubtedly became an integral part of the team, a gem irreplaceable. She was Raven, she was dark, she was quiet, she did not let anyone see her weaknesses. In some ways she was his mirror, Robin realized, yet they had their differences. Some of her strengths were his weaknesses and he likewise her.

Sitting at the table with a protein shake before him, Robin recalled the night their minds connected; the night his soul was lain bare for her complete inspection. He felt violated at first, afraid of the ugly things in his past that she now knew, ashamed because he was not strong enough to save himself.

It took the boy wonder a long while to forgive Raven for intruding upon his most sacred privacy in such a manner (though he was grateful that she discovered Slade's trick). It took more time for him to fully be comfortable with the fact of there being a lingering presence in the back of his mind. But, once he accepted the foreignness of Raven being ever present he was glad to have her there. Never again would he have to be alone, he could share with her his darkest fears and future hopes, things he did not confide in anyone else.

Getting to such a state was not without its trials, he had to learn to trust Raven again after she entered his mind without his permission. He was not entirely sure she would keep his dark secrets from the team, nor was he sure of her reaction to learning of them. He bid his time, tiptoeing around her for months, watching, attempting to find any changes in her manner toward him. None came.

He did not know when he finally began to relax again, though it was most likely after the fall of Trigon, when he was to repay the favor and save Raven. He could not call the action of saving her fair, like some sort debt repaid even if—looking back—it seemed that way. That idea was callous and he was trying to grow out of that habit, it was immoral to think of her that way, it was petty, and it was beneath him.

Taking a swig of the chalky concoction, he withheld a grimace, then looked at the woman sitting across him. She had a worn tome in one hand and a steaming cup of tea in the other. Their silence was companionable, but he had grown tired of listening to the rustling of pages or the occasional sip of a beverage.

As if she could feel the question burning on the tip of he tongue she announced, "The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde." Thus effectively silencing him before he began. Robin conceded, knowing when she did not wished to be disturbed.

So he sat, waiting for her to take the next action, though no force compelled him to do so. He began wondering when exactly he started to depend upon her presence. How was it that she had a calming effect upon him with only a mere glance? Robin was unable to answer that question, but he was fine with that. She gave him what he needed and he could only hope that he was doing the same.

He did not know what he gave her, only knowing that what he took was precious. A small crease formed on her brow, her look one of contemplation or malice. Who was it directed at, him or the text? She closed the book and set it down.

"Do you mind a sparring match?" She questioned without much emotion—not that he expected it. "Hand to hand, no powers or weapons." Obviously he would be the victor, obviously he'd wipe the floor with her, but he could not find it in himself to think to heavily about it. This was as close to affection as she was willing to go, still he did not complain. There was still time to build their relationship, to expand the mind link, to be comfortable with awkward and newly learned emotion.

This was what he wanted. One day they might stop being super heroes. One day they might get married. One day they might have a family and home. He just needed her presence and all would be well.

"No problem. Loser gets dish detail," He smiled and she returned it.

—End Chapter—