Chapter Six: One On One
Autumn in Jump City was one of the nicer seasons that came to the urban landscape. The summer often caused the buildings of the city to hold in the heat, but the cooler temperatures of the fall tended to bring about more pedestrian activity out of doors, and an overall friendly atmosphere prior to the onset of the winter. Of course, "winter" in these parts was almost a misnomer. Robin, having spent a great deal of his life in Gotham City, knew what real winter was, and had taken some kind of perverse pleasure in properly acquainting Raven with the cold season. Although that had had its rather pleasant benefits, he had to admit.
Still, the fall was Robin's favorite reason to cruise around the city in. Especially when he could actually focus on enjoying the ride instead of having to be all-business, mentally preparing for a battle. This was the kind of evening that riding a motorcycle was all about. Letting his facial expression twist into a full-fledged smile, Robin immediately decided to enjoy himself by taking the long-way home, speeding across one of the many bridges that intersected the bay, linking parts of the city to one another. This particular main road that the bridge emptied out onto brought the scents of a cornucopia of exotic foods to his acute nostrils—nearly every major ethnic cuisine being on display in the span of a little over a mile. Italian, Mexican, Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Indian, Creole, American, and there was even a hoity-toity, high end French restaurant that was a favorite for dates one was trying to impress. Robin had always had the distinct impression from the formal attire that the people entering and exiting the restaurant wore that any attempt to drag Raven into the place would be rebuffed with extreme hostility. The last time Raven had consented to anything formal had been…hell, it had been one of the most fun times he had had while servicing Gotham City, and at the time, they hadn't even been together. Or, perhaps, there had been something brewing. Robin cracked a smirk at the memory, thinking back to the simple elegance Raven had displayed, after having put up such a fight.
Thirty-Three Months Earlier"I look ridiculous."
"You look gorgeous."
"You lie poorly."
"It's not a lie, it's a truthful observation."
"If a dress is supposed to use fourteen hundred dollars worth of fabric, why does it look as though I'm only covered with five hundred dollars of it?"
"That's the style."
"I look like I belong on a street corner."
"Oh, so I get to name my price then?"
"Thin ice, Boy Blunder." Raven narrowed her eyes. "Very thin ice."
Robin changed tactics. "You forgot the matching handbag."
Raven responded by projecting a small amount of her soul-self into the small, black accessory and flinging it towards his head. "Not going to happen. In fact, I think you can just tell everyone from the Wayne Foundation that I'm sick."
"I can't show up alone to this kind of soiree, Raven. It just isn't done. Besides, if I'm alone, I'll have to endure the advances or shallow socialites all evening. You know, the kinds of girls that make you feel mentally ill?"
"What a cruel fate." Raven practically snorted. "I think you'll do fine without me."
"Raven, no. I'm not going without you."
"Then you're not going." The pale girl pressed.
"We have to go."
"Why? What's going to fall apart if you don't show up at this social event, Richard. Please, do tell."
"With me? Nothing. But I have an obligation to my mentor. There are certain social duties that I have to uphold."
"The operative word being you."
"Don't be like that, Raven. I want you there. Really."
"But you don't need me. Besides, I would get in the way. Don't stand there and pretend that you don't know that the very notion of me attending a high society function is an unmitigated disaster just waiting to happen."
"Fine." Robin acquiesced at length, knowing all too well how terrible Raven could be when she dug her heels in on something.
"Alright then."
"I'll just call Starfire and ask her to come instead." That was a gambit he hadn't even expected himself to make, but the die had now been cast. There was any number of ways that this could end, some of them rather badly for himself, but Robin couldn't help but find himself counting of the seconds as he searched Raven's expression, trying to deduce her response.
Ten…Nine…Eight….
Her lips seemed to downturn very slightly, not so much as a frown as she was mulling over something serious within herself. Ever so slowly, there was a crinkling of her nose, as she digested what he had said and tried to formulate a response. As always, there was little in the way of actual tells when it came to Raven. She didn't wear her heart, or her emotions, on her sleeve. Or her cape. Or leotard. Or black, elegant, upper class party dress.
Seven….Six….Five…
She seemed to stiffen as she weighed her options for a response. Would it bother her if he did invite Starfire? Over the last few months, they had been close to inseparable. While not every single waking moment was dedicated to patrolling Gotham, Robin had insisted that he take his friend on a tour of the city, showing off its grander sights and attractions, as well as some of the more notorious sights, connected to crimes and major villains. Raven's favorite perch when on duty seemed to be a cathedral on the South side, which allowed her to perch high and be ready for trouble from a myriad of directions. Something about the architecture seemed to speak to her, and she enjoyed exploring it when she wasn't busy with more pressing matters. Indeed, their relationship seemed to have changed for the better, becoming more natural. It was easier to be friends, here. Maybe it was because they were in Gotham, away from their team. They had to depend upon each other more without the others to pick up the slack. And so, Robin had told her his story. Not just the snatches she had seen in his mind when she had once briefly joined with him. He provided her with the narrative, how he had coped with his own personal tragedy. The path he had forged for himself—both as an apprentice to The Dark Knight and on his own. His stories seemed to have different effects on Raven—sometimes her response seemed to indicate pride or concern in him, while other stories made her look at him as though he were a man-child. Not that he could always help it—irresponsible farces could sometimes be his specialty, especially if he was a man on a mission, obsessed, as Slade could often bring out in him.
Four….Three….
There! Was it just his imagination, or was her forehead crinkling a bit, her lips beginning to purse. She was on the cusp of something. Maybe it was just going to be some kind of a rebuff. No, no. Raven wouldn't have waited so long. Insults always came to her quickly and easily, she wouldn't have to think very hard to put him in his place. Unless she was coming up with a scorcher. What about the eyes? They were concentrating on something, Robin was fairly certain that Raven was looking more through him than at him. Or else she was searching him, trying to put some kind of meaning to his threat. Why had he wanted to drag his girlfriend into this anyway? And more importantly, why would Raven not just tell him to knock himself out and phase through a wall to end the argument?
Two…
Why was he even bothering to contemplate such a thing. It was ridiculous. If Raven didn't want to do something, she didn't do it. That's just the way she happens to be. She wasn't corruptible, nor could she be guilt tripped into doing something she didn't wish to. Her decisions were usually centered around her. This was not to say that Raven was selfish to a fault. She took good care of her team in combat and didn't shirk any of her duties. But her independent streak surpassed even his own, and she couldn't simply be baited into doing something contrary to it. Raven never played mind games she couldn't win. She thrived on being able to flummox an opponent. It was her modus operandi.
One…
There it was! In her eyes! There was a flicker of recognition, of some kind of internal battle being played out. The different emotions that coursed through her subconscious, each demanding the opportunity to assert their authority. Amusement, anger, jealousy, frustration, bewilderment…it was as though they were all there at the same time, each one vying for supremacy, each taking its turn in mere fractions of a second to guide Raven's own thoughts. A plethora of different outcomes, coming and going so quickly that there was no way for the outside observer to be certain of what the empathy was thinking—exactly as she wished it, Robin was willing to bet. Was she going to walk away?
Zero.
"Two hours." Raven muttered, looking away from his gaze, as though she were ashamed.
"It's a long social engagement, Raven. Two hours won't be enough."
"Then ask Starfire." Raven folded her arms across her chest indignantly.
"I asked you."
"Yes, we've established that repeatedly." Raven pointed out.
"Four hours."
"Two and a half."
Robin sighed. "Look, I'll meet you halfway. This soiree will be held at the Manor anyway."
"And?"
"And that means that Bruce's extensive, private library will be nearby. You make the rounds with me, exchange pleasantries with the boring, beautiful people, and when we're finished, we can make an excuse for you to disappear for awhile. You can spend much of the night in the library, away from the annoying, pedantic social function. You just have to stay dressed up so we can dance later."
"Dance?"
"Yes, dance. Nothing too fancy. A simple waltz should suffice."
"Do I look like the ballroom dancer type?"
"No, but for our purposes, I can teach you pretty quickly."
"And now you're making assumptions that I would want to be taught. I'm not going to get in front of a crowd of people and dance just for some pointless social event in high society."
"We won't be dancing in front of a crowd." Robin insisted. "Everyone will be dancing. No one's going to be staring at us. All you have to do is just learn the basic pattern and follow my lead."
"You really think this is going to happen, don't you?"
"Raven I'm asking you as a friend to do this for me—no, with me."
"You should be asking Starfire."
"I'm sure that Star would be a big hit with the crowd, but you and I both know that whether you intend it or not, you have my grace in your pinky finger than Star does in her entire body."
Raven cocked an eyebrow. "I'll be sure to tell her you said that."
"Thanks." Robin told her. "Look, Raven, if that's what you want, then I'll invite Starfire. I just thought it would be…nice, I guess. And I don't want to exclude you."
Raven sighed, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. "This really means a lot to you, doesn't it?"
"Yes." Robin nodded, leaning against the wall. "It does. We should do more together."
"Really." Raven deadpanned. "As it stands now, we're doing just about everything together outside of bathing and sleeping. Including getting on each other's nerves." She smirked.
"You know you enjoy my company."
"Apparently, there's been a new definition of the word 'enjoy' added to the dictionary when I wasn't looking."
"Fine. You relish my company."
Raven shook her head.
"Savor?"
"If you stop acting like a kicked puppy, I'll do it." Raven finally surrendered.
"Really?"
"Yes. Really."
Robin clenched his palms together in a minor celebration of victory before pausing.
"There's a hook in that bait, isn't there?"
"Oh, Robin. So little trust. Is that any way to treat your friend?"
"What's the catch, Raven."
"Only that you'll owe me a favor. One of my own time, type, and choosing. And one that you won't be allowed to refuse."
Present DayOh, and had he ever paid the favor back. In spades. Robin smirked, racing his R-cycle across a bridge that would take him back to the Tower. But it was all worth it. Partnership had begat friendship, which in turn begat love. Yes, there was something about Raven that really resonated internally with him. With her in his life, he felt more complete, more confident, like there was some kind of goal he was working towards. He had a greater mission now, one that he found made the tough decisions easier. Growing up with Batman, things had been easier. His decisions affected only him, or, to a lesser extent, his mentor. Working on a larger team had honed his skills, helped him to be more of a team player—but he had still never been good at asking for help, or at opening up, even among friends and comrades—his own surrogate family. But now, things were different. He had people depending on him to come home each day. And a daughter who deserved a father that wasn't putting his neck on the line every night. That didn't mean that he had learned to keep a total distance, but for the most part, he had learned to be content to let someone else take the risks. His past was his past. If there was one thing he had learned the hard way, it was that no amount of heroics and good deeds would ever make up for the loss of his parents. He was mature enough now to be okay with that. Bruce himself, at some point, had obviously come to the same realization. But he did something different with it—trying to create an environment where bad things didn't have to happen to good people every so often. It was a grueling, personal thing for the wealthy philanthropist to have taken on, a personal quest that had encompassed most of his life and, Robin often wondered, possibly robbed him of true happiness. Still, it was his mission, his vendetta. Robin had his own, and as grateful as he was to the Batman, he had decided long ago that he could no longer live under the older man's shadow.
Approaching the Tower, Robin thumbed a keypad built into the small dashboard of his bike, transmitting the appropriate security code for the garage. It always felt good to park his prized motorcycle in its spot of honor. The numerous vehicles that Cyborg had constructed for the team over the years were all works of art in their own way, but his motorcycle was, well, his, and it wasn't often that others got to ride on it. Or more precisely, it wasn't often that others wanted to ride on it. The R-Cycle was perfectly safe, of course—it was Robin's skill at driving it that usually remained in question.
Removing his helmet, Robin ran a hand through his hair to ensure that it still carried that all important, slicked up spike look that he knew was a part of his general charisma, before ascending the staircase. Just setting foot in the Tower again reminded him of how hungry he was—the hot dog he had grabbed for lunch from the vendor across the street hadn't really stuck with him, and there was a definitive danger to eating too much during the day. Raven harped on him if he had a large lunch. Not to say that she spent all day long slaving over a hot stove, she had Cyborg and Terra to do a lot of that. But if he didn't clean his plate at supper, then the couldn't raise Rain to hold up to the same standards. Raven was tough, but fair.
Reaching the crest of the stairs, Robin opened the doorway that opened to the side of the kitchen. "Honey, I'm home." Robin said in a traditional joke—it was not uncommon for only Cyborg or Beast Boy to be in the immediate vicinity at this time of day, but tonight, the common area was unusually busy—Cyborg and Terra working different stations of the kitchen, while Starfire, Beast Boy, and Raven occupied the large table, Rain in her high chair, happily mesmerized by tapping a dull spoon against her plastic cup, the tray of the chair littered with simple, moveable toys designed to distract developing minds.
"Aw, shucks, I didn't know you cared." Cyborg mocked.
"You only love me for my mind." Robin chided, which Raven added a snort to, offering her take on that particular comment.
"Well I love you for your looks." Terra added over the sound of the mixer in front of her, shutting it down. Raven rolled her eyes at the blonde girl's comment, which prompted Terra to stick her tongue out at the goth before removing the two beaters from the mixer and tossing one to Beast Boy, who licked the potatoey goodness off of it with abandon.
"It's the mask." Robin smirked as Terra jumped into his arms for her customary greeting, Robin squeezing her tightly before spinning once and depositing her back on the floor. "And what about you, Raven?" He asked, running a hand through her hair. What do you love me for?"
"Your agreement to carry out domestic chores without my having to ask." She told him, but gave a start when he circled behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders.
"You just don't want anyone else washing your delicates."
"I do not wear 'delicates.'" Responded Raven, refusing to take the bait. "They're just plain, black, boring, functional undergarments that can be found at most common stores and are considerably less enticing than the average Victoria's Secret catalogue."
"It's not what you wear, it's how you fill it out." Robin gently kneaded her shoulders, enjoying the way he could simultaneously make her feel both comfortable and anxious. "What matters is that you be yourself."
"This advice from someone wearing a cape and mask?" Raven pointed out, not only beating Robin at his own game, but successfully ruining the moment as well.
"Well, I…"
"This was fun." Raven told him, patting his hand with hers gently. "We should do it again sometime."
"We will." Robin promised, already planning a verbal rematch. Having a conversation with Raven was like crossing a minefield—few people found a way through one without having it blow up in their face. Robin knew better than to take it personally, though. This was how Raven expressed herself. It was a more light-sided part of her, that she didn't always let out. It was easier to give him a hard time than it was to tell him exactly why she loved him, and he was okay with that. She had told him, long ago, on that first awkward, beautiful, frightful, wondrous, unforgettable night that she had feelings for him that were unlike any other, and while it was a little cryptic and mysterious, he understood that for Raven, it was akin to baring her body and soul. It was enough for him, and he had been trying ever since, everyday, to make her life a little easier, a little more complete, a little more whole. And he was willing to continue doing so until the end of his days. "So what's for dinner?"
"Roasted chicken." Cyborg told him. "It's in the oven already. I'm about to throw some Gardenburgers on for our resident vegetarian."
"Hey!" Beast Boy called out. "You've eaten Gardenburgers too! They're good."
"They're passable." Cyborg corrected. As in, if there is literally nothing else to eat and I'm too drained to go out and too broke to order out, I'll eat one.
"You just haven't broadened your horizons beyond meat." Beast Boy complained.
"It's meat. I can spend the rest of my life sampling different kinds and dishes without ever getting bored. So why should I need to?"
"Oh, leave Beast Boy alone." Terra scolded the bigger man. "There are plenty of better reasons to make fun of him than his diet."
"Yeah!" Beast Boy spoke up. "Hey, wait a second!"
"It will take a lot longer than that for your brain to catch up." Raven added, eliciting a good laugh from everyone else in the room, save Starfire."
"I am confused!" The redhead explained. "How can Beast Boy's brain catch up? Was it involved in some kind of race? I did not know that the human brain was portable."
"It's just an expression, Starfire." Robin explained. "Raven was just saying that Beast Boy's brain is slower than everyone else's in processing thoughts."
"Wait, I believe I have heard this kind of expression before—would I be correct in saying that Beast Boy's brain is not fast with taking up?"
"Slow on the uptake." Terra helped her, and Starfire's eyes momentarily glowed brightly with happiness.
"Yes! Yes, I am understanding now! My Earth slang is improving!"
Robin smiled at his friend. So many times, it was difficult to help her to understand figures of speech, but lately, she had been showing improvement, making connections in her head from one expression to the other. She still didn't speak English like a native, of course, but given Robin's very limited exposure to Tamaranian linguistics and dialects, he considered it amazing that Starfire was able to grasp any of the intricacies of English beyond what a simple kiss could provide her with. Whoever said that English was one of the hardest languages to learn wasn't kidding.
Satisfied, Robin opened the refrigerator and helped himself to a bottle of flavored water, pulling up a seat at the table directly across from Raven. "How were things today?"
"Not much to tell. I meditated, I ate lunch, I read to Rain in the afternoon, and I got a little reading in for myself. I was hoping to have something more exciting to tell you about?"
"Honestly, I can do without excitement in that category. It's easier to work knowing you and Rain are safe."
"I am still perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Robin."
"I know. But even so, I can't help wanting to protect you. Kind of an instinctive thing."
"And here I am, not knowing rather to be flattered or insulted." Raven chided him, letting him dangle on her comment before continuing. "The others took Rain out to the park this afternoon. Terra said she thought Rain was trying to talk."
"Or babble anyway." The blonde girl added. "Sorry, I really thought she was having a breakthrough."
"She still might." Robin responded. "No need to push her. She's young yet. And her mother does stimulate her mind." He grinned, proud of the efforts Raven took in raising their daughter, willingly staying at home while he paid the bills.
"Someone has to raise her right." Raven spoke. "If I don't help develop her mind now, she could grow up into another Beast Boy. The verisimilitude of that very notion alone makes me feel ill."
Beast Boy drew himself up to his full height. "Okay, I have no idea what the heck you just said, but I know it was some kind of insult."
"What?" Raven asked, looking as innocent as she possibly could.
The green changeling stuck his tongue out at the goth. "Well, that's just fine. Because Rain likes me just fine, don't you Rain?" He asked, turning to the small girl in her high chair, he put his face in front of hers and gave her his best silly smile, which the black haired little girl responded to enthusiastically, grabbing his nose and squeezing affectionately. "Ow!"
This had the pleasant effect of making everyone at the table laugh. While Raven did not express the humor so physically, she did smile as a very light, pleasant feeling bounced around inside of her. This, she decided, was the kind of family moment she would enjoy remembering one day when she was an old woman and Rain would be the one feeding her. The concept of one day growing old was still relatively new to her, as until a few years ago, it had never been an option. So many of the simple facts of life that most people took for granted were like a new adventure to her, being human was something that she had only dabbled at previously. Now, it was her life. Of course, there were certain things that could not be changed—she would always look different, perceive things differently, live differently. Patience had taught her much in these matters. That, and finding a partner who saw more humanity in her than he sometimes did in more average examples of the species. And yet, Robin still endeavored to understand her need for solitude, never taking her request for alone time as a rejection of his partnership. He pushed her to respond to him emotionally, wanting to be the one who knew her unlike any other, yet he never asked her to do anything that she wasn't ready to, never tried to force her to reveal things that she didn't want to reveal. Which, ironically, made her a bit more open. Much like herself, Robin hated talking about himself or his past. He had been through a lot, and struggled to find his identity, become his own man. The past took him to his lower points, and even though his was a life made of tragedy, there were those fonder memories within it that she tried to steer him towards.
And, of course, he had been more understanding than she expected about her chaotic sexual nature. It could fluctuate between hot and cold very quickly—becoming a demanding and impatient lover, and then switching to a reserved one with little carnal drive. Based upon her own studies of the young male libido, Robin probably had the patience of a saint in this area, but truth be told, he was not one to frequently instigate sexual activity. Not that he was prudish or disinterested, but often enough, he seemed content merely that she was there, that she would share her bed, and be there when he awoke in the morning. And, though she was not want to admit it, she had come to enjoy having a sleeping partner, something she had never expected to grow accustomed to. But it was somehow comforting, when she could feel him nearby in the still of night, one arm draped across her shoulder, like an attempt to infer possession—he was not one to spoon, or try to wrap her up in his arms. It was as though he knew he could never really possess her and so didn't try to, but that he still claimed her as his own, warding off any other would be suitors, or perhaps ensuring her that he was still there.
Too much analyzing. Raven thought to herself, calling to Terra to flip a pot of water on to boil so she could have tea after dinner. She looked across the table to see Robin smiling at her knowingly, the type of smirk she had come to admire, and yet still frequently had the urge to wipe off his face. "How was work?" She asked, deciding that engaging him in conversation was far better than ending up in an odd sort of staring contest.
"I closed." He smiled, looking as though he was surprised that there could be any doubt to that outcome.
"With that couple?" Raven asked.
"The Davenports." Robin nodded. "Miria, the wife? She's fascinated by you. Wants to have us over for dinner."
Raven blanched at that notion, she was still recovering from the conversation Robin had forced her to participate in earlier that day. "You did say no." It was a question, but Raven presented it as though it were a direct order.
"Yes."
"You told them yes?"
"No?"
"Robin, don't start with me. I'm not in the mood for word games tonight. It wasn't an easy day for me."
"Then let me make it more clear. "Yes, I said no to them. Raven, you really need to relax. You know I wouldn't try to subject you to something like that."
"But you would enjoy it. I know you like watching me wriggle."
"Wriggle?"
"Yes. Wriggle. Squirm. Work my way out of a tight spot."
Robin leaned back in his chair. "I admit nothing."
"Robin."
"Yes dear?"
"You're smiling."
"I am not."
Cyborg took his attention off the stove for a moment, leaning in to look at his friend's face. "You're totally smiling."
"I'm not smiling. I'm smirking."
"Smirking?" Raven cocked an eyebrow.
"Yes. Smirking. I'm amused by your sudden bout of paranoia."
"I'm not paranoid." Raven shook her head. "I'm perceptive."
"Perceptive?"
"Yes, perceptive. As in, I know when you're planning something, Robin, and it's not going to work.."
"I'm planning something now?"
"Yes." Raven said simply. "So save us both the time and out with it."
"I'm afraid I'll have to protest my innocence." Robin told her flatly, but the smirk never left his face. "I'm not planning anything, Raven. And before you ask, I'm not scheming or conspiring either."
"I know that look, Robin. And you know that I know it."
"Then you must be mistaken. You're the empathy, not me. Now, can't we just enjoy a nice, family dinner to wind down the week. I'm hungry."
Raven fixed her partner with a hard stare, refusing to relinquish the upper hand. "We will be speaking of this after dinner."
"If you insist." Robin held out his hands in a submissive gesture.
"I insist." Raven told him flatly, standing up to pull plates out of the cupboard and set the table before the argument became real.
Now it was Cyborg's turn to smirk as Raven turned her backside to Robin, focusing her attention on the menial task of setting the table. "Ladies and gentleman, may I present to you the Boy Wonder himself, tamer of womankind the world over, Robin. Truly an inspiration to us all, he handles all situations with the greatest of ease, never failing to put even the most challenging of women into a state of security and peace. He has so much to teach us-"
"Cyborg?" Robin interrupted him.
"What, I'm almost done!"
"Shut up." Robin finished for him, peeling off his gloves and tossing them towards the sofa in the common room.
Beast Boy chided his friend. "Dude, you should totally know better than to try and put one over on Raven."
"I'm not." Robin pleaded his case. "I share a living space with her very closely. Do you think I have a death wish?"
"The living arrangements can be subject to change, Boy Blunder." Raven called as she pulled a large quantity of plates from the cupboard using her soul self, floating them towards the table and setting them down gently. Robin's plate, a plastic one normally reserved for children, clattered loudly as it dropped.
Robin looked down at the blue plate with an image of Winnie the Pooh staring back at him, apparently one of Starfire's favorite snack plates. "Ok, now that's going just a bit far."
"And here I thought it suited you perfectly." Raven deadpanned.
"Starfire, a little help here?" Robin pleaded, turning to the redhead.
Starfire looked him over earnestly. "If you wish to use my plate, friend Robin, you may do so. May it enhance the taste of your meal."
"Thanks." Robin grimaced, but smiled slightly at the feeling of Terra's consoling hand on his shoulder as she reached over his head to place a helping of mashed potatoes on his plate. "What, no gravy?"
"Cyborg has the gravy."
"Because if there's gravy, then everything is going to be alright." The burly man beamed, placing a large bowl onto the table along with a ladle. He immediately turned back to the oven to pull out his prize-winning roasted chicken, and set it on the table next to the gravy, along with an oversized serving fork. Before anyone could object, Cyborg ripped one of the oversized legs off of the bird and placed it onto his plate. "Terra? What about the bread?"
"I made it in the machine after stomping Beast Boy at his favorite game, remember?" She told him earnestly. I think it's ready…it, uh, might be a little doughy."
"I love doughy!" Beast Boy exclaimed, practically salivating at the sound. Cut me off a slice! And Cyborg, what happened to my Gardenburgers?"
Cyborg sniffed the sizzling pan on the stove. "They're, um, browning. Or whatever it is these things do. I never could figure out how to tell when these things are done."
"They're done enough. Serve 'em up! Oooh! I know, Terra, toss me that bread! I'm going for a Gardenburger deluxe!"
"That just ain't right." Cyborg sighed, lifting the pan off the range and unceremoniously dumping its contents onto Beast Boy's plate.
Terra cut into the load of bread and frowned "I don't know about the burgers, but I'm not entirely sure this bread is set. It's still gooey in the center."
"There's a metaphor in there somewhere." Robin quipped. "I'll take some anyway."
"You'll get sick." Terra pouted.
"I have a stronger metabolism than most. Except maybe Beast Boy."
"Robin, you need to take better care of yourself." Terra scolded.
"I exercise regularly and, on occasion, have even been known to center my mind through meditating with Raven."
"Among other things." Mumbled Beast Boy, earning him a look from Raven that might have turned him to stone.
Robin sighed and focused on the food, not wanting to rise up to that bait. Raven already seemed upset with him this evening. There had to be something he could do right by her. But it was never easy once she got into a mood. Getting an idea, Robin swiped a small piece of chicken from the serving dish and began cutting it up into tiny little pieces for Rain, before either Terra or Raven could appoint themselves to the task. Maybe the way back into good graces was to show his willingness to take on the tougher jobs at the end of a busy day. He immediately stood up and pulled his seat directly next to his daughter, motioning for Starfire to slide over, and began the difficult process of trying to get his daughter to eat. Rain seemed a bit taken aback at seeing her father—while Robin was by no means an absent father or inattentive parent, he normally was not one to actively feed her. Rain's eyes went wide and she seemed confused as Robin took the dull fork designed for a girl her age and gently pried it into her little mouth. "Mmm." Robin exaggerated, forking a piece of meat for himself and making a show of chewing it enthusiastically. This caused Rain to giggle, and half of the chicken rolled out of her mouth as she gummed it with her little baby teeth.
"Everyone's a critic." Cyborg sighed as Robin went in for a dollop of mashed potatoes.
"The trick is not to talk down to her." Robin said. "You want to eat for us, don't you Rain?"
In response, Rain made a series of messy chewing motions, somehow getting down a few bites of her dinner. "That's right. And who's your daddy?" Robin patted her on the head, plopping the mashed potatoes into her waiting mouth. Rain's expression was almost contemplative, as though she were weighing a great decision as she swirled the mushy starch around in her mouth before swallowing it, looking up at her father expectantly.
Terra practically choked when she saw how easily Robin was feeding Rain. "That's not possible! Two days ago I tried to feed her mashed potatoes and I ended up with most of it on my shirt and in my hair."
"Maybe you babied her too much." Robin shrugged, smiling at his little girl. "Do you want some more chicken, Rain? Hmm?" He asked happily, putting a tiny cube of it onto the spoon and extending it towards her mouth. Rain seemed to contemplate this for a moment and then clamped her lips around it, chewing with a sense of wonder.
Raven stared at him in awe. She was surprised that morning when Rain had complied with relative ease, but now she seemed to be actually enjoying food, something that basically didn't happen unless copious amounts of sugar were involved. Had her own daughter matured in her approach to food so quickly? Or did she just want the extra attention from her parents. Raven had no idea, but almost inexplicably, she could feel her irritation with Robin begin to melt away. Which irritated her, because she wanted to be upset with him. But it was just too hard when he showed just how seriously he took his own status as a father, and when he went out of his way to remind her that, indeed, they were a family of sorts, if not a traditional one. She stood up herself, moving to sit on the other side of Rain, to be with her family. "You're very good at this." Raven told him simply.
"Am I?" He asked, with a bit of a smile, but trying to appear non-chalant.
"Don't ruin the moment." Raven pressed, choosing to ignore the bait for another go around. "You're very…"
"Yes?" Robin asked, trying to put some earnestness in his voice. He wanted to hear what she had to say.
"Look, neither of us exactly had the fathers we wanted. Yours was taken from you, and mine, well, let's not go there." Raven shut her eyes momentarily, refusing to let her mind go any further down that road. "But in spite of that, you're…more than adequate at being a father."
"Because I can get her to eat?" Robin asked, now feeling confused at her meaning.
"No, because she looks up to you. In case you hadn't noticed, it's in her eyes."
"Huh." Robin replied casually, rubbing his chin as he looked at their daughter. "And to think, I always see you in her eyes."
"I've been known to look up to you." Raven said simply. "On occasion. Infrequent occasion."
"I'll take it."
Raven nodded her head once, and Robin gingerly draped an arm over her shoulder, keeping his right arm free to continue feeding Rain with. The little girl looked back and forth between the faces of her parents and gave a kind of contented smile, making some kind of unintelligible sound between laughter and nonsense that both parents took as a good sign.
Cyborg looked over the little family with a broad smile. "Well now, isn't that touching?"
Starfire clasped her hands together in admiration "It is a most glorious display of affection and pride. On my world, the bonds of kzralnop enhance our physical strength."
Terra had a smile that practically split her face, yet, upon closer examination, there were also a few tears threatening to fall from her eyes—perhaps the scene had dredged up some memories of all she had lost. Still, any sadness in her eyes appeared to be overshadowed by the smile on her face and the thoughts in her mind and heart. Robin was easily attuned to her emotional state in such close proximity, and mentally thanked her for her support, knowing she would understand.
Beast Boy wore a wry expression. "That's cute and all, but if you guys are going to get into P.D.A., you're gonna have to go to your room. Some of us are trying to eat, you know."
"I don't do 'P.D.A.'" Raven said darkly. "I was merely expressing my pleasure at my partner's parenting."
"Is that what they call it?" Beast Boy asked.
Raven looked up at Robin. "Permission to stuff and mount him on the wall of our bedroom?"
Robin chuckled. "No."
"You never let me have anything."
"Criminal offense." Robin shrugged.
Raven arched an eyebrow. "No jury in the world would convict me."
"True…you might even get a parade thrown in your honor…" Robin mocked mulling the idea over.
"Hey! Why does everyone always gang up on me?" The green jester complained.
"Because you're the odious comic relief." Cyborg grinned, coming around the table to push his hand firmly against the small green head.
"But, for some reason or other, we love you anyway." Terra chuckled, running to his aid. She gave the changeling a squeeze of adoration, which seemed to immediately deflate whatever irritation he had been feeling, and he smiled goofily at the feeling of the blonde girl's small arms around his frame.
"On that note, let's eat!" Cyborg called, and there was a hustle to return to the table, Starfire stopping along the way to place an arm on the shoulders of Robin and Raven, her green eyes shimmering slightly. "You have both been blessed by forces greater than ourselves. I am grateful that I am able to play even a small part in your familial bondings."
Robin looked at Raven, who very slightly hitched her shoulders in an expression of confusion, and so the masked salesman took the lead. "You're a big part of our family, Starfire. You always will be. We want you to be one of Rain's role models. You're strong, you're loyal, you always do what's right and you're never afraid to fight for what you believe in. I can't think of a better person for Rain to take lessons from."
Starfire could say nothing, and so she enveloped her friends in a bone-crushing hug, squeezing them with abandon. "Thank you, my friends." The redhead's voice was high pitched, like a kettle on the verge of boiling over. "I will endeavor to be an excellent zarkleen for Rain!
"Right…" Raven said slowly, concentrating on not sounding sarcastic, which was a serious effort.
"Thank you, Starfire" Robin patted her back through the embrace until the alien girl let go and returned to her seat, leaving the couple alone with their daughter at the end of the table.
Raven made a somewhat sheepish expression. "Look, about before? I'm…"
"Already forgiven." Robin smiled, picking her small hand up from where it rested against her leg and stroking it gently.
XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo
Friday night in the common room had begun something of a tradition ever since the team had decided to step out of their primary roles as superheroes and let the other Titans around the world step up. Not that they never took on evildoers, supervillains, and the occasional ne'er-do-well anymore, but with a small child in their midst, it was important to keep her safe. And the safest way to do that was to ensure that she didn't become a target for any of the considerable gallery of enemies they had collected over the years.
It had been a difficult adjustment, most of all for Robin, who was torn between the oaths he had sworn to himself years ago when he first became Robin, and the duty that he had to his daughter. Ultimately, responsibility won out. And the costume was retired in exchange for a steady paycheck. However, the sad truth that Richard Grayson was not the hot commodity in Jump City that Robin, Leader of the Teen Titans was. And so, he had taken the costume back for a different purpose. But this was a job that came with set hours and weekends off, so he was alright with it. Of course, being a car salesman wasn't really his full time job. That honor fell to little Rain, and, naturally, to his better half—a desription that Raven never seemed to grow tired of him using. Something about acknowledging his superiors, as he recalled.
And so it was that Friday night centered around movies and snacks. Robin was particularly fond of action films and character dramas, while Raven really only objected to obnoxious teenage comedies or romance. Beast Boy would pretty much watch anything that wasn't a period drama or romance. And Cyborg was the "mercenary," being able to stomach nearly anything, even the occasional sappy romance. Starfire also got something out of almost anything they watched, so she was rarely, if ever, disagreeable about what was tuned into the set.
And then there was Terra. It was difficult to discern what Terra truly enjoyed watching—she was more wont to support Beast Boy in his viewing habits and choices unless it was something she truly despised. This Friday night, for instance, found her sitting on the sofa, slightly cuddled up to Beast Boy, as they watched Broken Flowers, a film that had Beast Boy in a critical state of boredom. Fortunately, Terra had been able to stop his restlessness by occupying his eyes with her own, and as she allowed him to wrap his arms around her and pull her head into his lap, Beast Boy had long since decided that he didn't care what was on the television when everything he'd ever dreamed was staring up from his lap.
Raven, having picked the movie, leaned her head towards Robin and whispered an inquiry in his ear, causing her partner's eyes to go wide in confusion. "What do you mean, you picked this movie for a reason?"
"I was curious if you saw yourself in it." Raven whispered in response.
"How? I'm not a playboy, let alone an aging one, and the only offspring I have is nestled comfortably into her playpen, likely asleep since she isn't making any noises."
"That wasn't the point. I think it's about what we want out of life."
"You do mean the film, right?" Robin verified.
"Yes. The film."
"I suppose it could be. How does this relate to me again?"
"Don't be dense, Robin."
"I have everything I want. Well, okay, maybe not everything. I mean, who has everything they want? Trust me, I spent half of my life being raised by a multi-billionaire, and he didn't have everything he wanted. But, there are few things in my life that I would change."
Raven nodded at his explanation, seemingly satisfied, but still looking a bit pensive. Something was definitely weighing on her mind, Robin could feel it. But he couldn't get any real access to her emotions, she wasn't sharing anything through their own bond at the moment. Still, his detective skills told him this line of questioning wasn't over.
He was rewarded for that deduction precisely fourteen minutes and twenty-seven seconds later, when Raven asked a new question into his ear. "Have you ever considered getting married?"
Robin sputtered, choking on the sugar free sports drink he had been lightly sipping at. His reaction caused Raven to cock an eyebrow as he tried to recover his breathing. "Forget I asked." She sighed, prepared to drop the line of conversation before it had ever really begun.
Robin punched himself in the ribcage several times to steady his breathing, earning a puzzled look from Cyborg, but he waved it off. Looking around to make sure everyone wasn't staring at him, he brought his face much closer to Raven's. "We should talk about this." He stated, trying to give the illusion that he was having an intimate moment to anyone who might glance in his direction.
"We aren't?" Raven whispered.
"Color me confused, but I wasn't exactly aware this was something you were interested in. It always seemed like it conflicted with your whole strong, silent, independent loner personality that you cultivate."
"I'm still those things."
"I never said you weren't."
"Robin…"
"Evidence room." He said simply, extricating himself from her form and walking out of the room without fanfare. Raven greatly resisted her natural urge to phase through the wall and head him off at the pass. It was gravely tempting, but it would not do anything to enhance their current situation. And so she padded out of the room after him, following Robin down the hall and allowing him to open the door for her. She winced when he closed it a little more forcefully than necessary, but it certainly wasn't a slam.
Letting out a breath, Robin turned to look into her eyes, frustration and hesitation evident on his face. "What the hell was that?" He asked, not in anger, but in complete confusion.
"Look, I didn't know that would be your reaction. Just forget I said anything." Raven said, moving back towards the door.
"Raven!" He called after her. "That's not what I meant. I wasn't trying to say I don't want to."
"So you want to?"
"I don't know! For the right reasons, sure. Look, what's brining this on. Do you want to get married?"
Raven now took her turn to stare deeply into the eyes of her lover. "I don't know. I…guess I'm at a point where I just find myself wanting more."
"More what? More from me?"
"Not exactly."
"But you think getting married is the answer?"
Raven turned away from him, moving towards one of the walls where one of the old Slade masks still hung. She picked it up with apprehension and reverence, running her hands along the contour of its curves. "I want to be more fulfilled. There has to be more to life. I want to leave some kind of legacy behind."
"I can relate to that." Robin nodded, speaking softly. "But those aren't reasons to get married. Raven, when you asked me, you said it as though you were making a dinner or movie suggestion. This is serious to me."
"I'm being serious." She said earnestly. "Look, you know my feelings. I chose you because you've always accepted me for who I am. I choose you now because I know not only that you still do that, but you remind me of it every day in your own way. Not to mention Rain. Throughout my life, love isn't something I've really understood. In any aspect, really. The things that I would put myself on the line for, before, they were always principles and beliefs. And then the two of us created another life together, and suddenly, I could finally understand what it meant to be willing to die for someone else."
"Raven…"
"Don't interrupt now or I'm not going to be able to start again." She rolled over whatever he had to say before he could even speak it. "This is my life now. It's the life I've chosen, every part of the way. To step back from the heroics. To become a mother. To start this thing with you that continues to define me despite my valiant efforts for it not to. I wonder, sometimes, where this friendship was going. And even after finding the answers, it still feels like a mystery to me. I never expected to have this kind of bond with anyone. It's confusing, annoying, frustrating…but it's also brilliant and new and…never seems to lose its luster or its adventure. But, there is still more I want to do in life. I don't know where those desires might take me in the future, I haven't even figured out exactly what they are yet. But I want you and Rain with me. You're both very much a part of who I am." Raven sighed, feeling like she couldn't express herself properly. "In spite of all the books I read, I always feel woefully inadequate expressing myself with words."
She turned back to face him, taking a breath. "I'm done now."
"You know, you really are quite striking when you're flustered." Robin smiled, taking two steps towards her.
"Was that supposed to be a compliment."
"As well as an observation." He nodded. "You're serious about this."
"I'm always serious."
"Indeed." Robin nodded. "Alright then, I have a question. I won't ask you if you love Rain, I know that goes without saying. And, as nice as it would be to hear, I won't ask you for any great details on this either—just yes or no. Do you love me, really love me enough to be sure about this kind of commitment?"
Raven paused, a bit taken aback, but she did not betray any signs of unease. "Don't you already know?"
"I'd still like to hear you say it." He came closer, standing directly in front of her.
"You would ask me to put into words things that I don't even understand? I know them, Robin. Shouldn't that be enough?"
"Indulge me." He smirked.
"Alright then." Raven nodded, moving forwards so that she was practically standing on his feet, she reached out with her right hand and place it squarely against his chest, flattening her palm against it. "Of all the obnoxious men in this world, you rate among the highest. And yet I still think of you often, and fondly, with respect and admiration. You have helped me to become a better person, and have opened my eyes to the possibilities." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "There are days that I really, really hate you for that. But it never competes with how I…" Robin said nothing, quietly prompting her. "How I feel." Raven finally spoke the words, screwing her eyes shut for fear that her empathy would channel the emotions outward in some randomly destructive pattern.
Robin smiled warmly, feeling somewhat proud. "I think you just talked about your feelings, Raven. And the world didn't end."
"This time." She said quietly. "It's just…hard for me to get comfortable, okay? Even after all this time, there's a difference between being close, and being close."
Robin blinked, pondering her words. "And what about when you take the initiative?"
"That's…more like nature having its way. Certain urges can become very powerful at times."
"That's normal in anyone."
Raven didn't play the game. "You know better than most it's far from normal in me."
"Maybe I'm like that sort of thing."
"A little too much."
Robin pressed forwards, and she nodded her assent for him to envelop her with his arms gently, her empathic shields braced for the feelings that always came with being in Robin's arms. Whether for a brief moment or for an entire night, the different emotions within her all jockeyed for control. Yet she only ever gave it up to the one that she could cope with—safety and acceptance. Doubts always fled her mind when he held her like a lover, and she knew that, come what may, that sense of home could endure.
Cautiously, Robin let go, not wanting to push her too much at the moment. He knew all too well how difficult it was for Raven to express her feelings physically except in certain, extenuating circumstances, but it was enough for him. And sometimes, for her too.
"Are we good?" Robin asked her.
Raven nodded, but there was a little hesitation, and she studied the floor to avoid meeting his gaze. "You know, I really expected to be able to handle everything better than I often do. I really hate feeling insecure. Especially when in my head I can reason out how unreasonable those feelings are. But that doesn't mean that they go away."
"Those are normal feelings to have, Raven. It doesn't make you strange or abnormal. It just makes you human."
"And as you're well aware, I'm only half human." Raven reminded him.
"I wish you wouldn't say that." Robin sighed, looking a little hurt.
Raven shook her head. "I don't hide from what I am. Not anymore. You of all people know the danger that lies in that. Far too well."
"But I've never been afraid of you, Raven. Afraid for you, sure. But I could never truly fear you. I know who you really are. Our genes and chromosomes don't predetermine our destinies. We are who we are because of who we choose to be. How could I ever be afraid of someone who has chosen to dedicate her life to making the world a little better than it was when she got here?"
"Sometimes, I think you should be." She told him flatly, immediately holding out her left hand in front of her, anticipating his protest, clutching gently at his chest. "Not because of my past, or even my heritage. But because I've always been a solitaire. You don't have to deal with it day in and day out, you don't hear the voices in my head, screaming at me to run away from all of this, to stay alone, to be…"
"Safe? Secure?"
Raven nodded.
"Then I hope that there are some voices in there telling you to stay as well. Not just for Rain's sake or mine. But for your own."
For once, it was Raven's turn to smirk, upturning the corners of her lips in a way that always made Robin's heart feel a bit lighter. "Those are the only ones I listen to."
"And that's why you want to get married?"
"It's why I've strongly considered the option, yes."
"Can we sleep on it?" Robin asked.
"As I recall, not sleeping on life-changing decisions is how we ended up like this in the first place." Raven chided. "But I don't need an answer right away. It's more of an idea at this point."
"A fancy?"
"Yes, a fancy. Let's go with that. We should go back before people start to think we snuck off for…relations."
"Relations?" Robin chuckled. "As though you're the type known for her wonton quickies in evidence rooms." It was an image that Robin couldn't get out of his head, a cross between alluring and amusing.
"You're not the one having to endure all the pregnancy comments. I get sick one morning and suddenly we're having another baby." Raven shook her head. "Which we're not." She interrupted before he could even ask.
"Is that a challenge?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't certain, but he thought he saw a slight swagger in the sorceress' step as she made her way back to the common room, leaving the mask behind.
Robin shook his head. "I love you too!" He called after her, noting with some satisfaction that she seemed to misstep slightly on her way out the door before recovering. Robin smiled, satisfied with himself. "Bruce was right, I never was able to resist a challenge."
XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo
Author's NotesAnd here it is, a special Thanksgiving surprise for all my readers! It took me awhile to write this chapter, mainly because I was trying to decide how I was going to present some things and where I was taking it. I really wanted to give this a natural flow, and sometimes that can be easier than others when hopscotching between humorous and serious subject matters. And this was the first time I really showed the "modern" Robin and Raven together at all, and dropped some hints as to the different things that are eating away at the protagonist. All in all, this was a difficult chapter to write, mainly because I wanted to capture the complexity of the drama without going into soap opera territory or making things too stilted. I have no idea whether or not I succeeded, but at some point, you just have to publish and move on, or you move into an obsession mode where nothing is ever good enough. Perish the thought!
I've got some big plans for Terra in the next chapter, and also Starfire. I've had certain scenes and ideas in my head for awhile now and I'm quite ready to see them take flight across the page. There's a certain feeling I get inside of me as an author when I can take a character into new places. Essentially, I'm really looking forward to the next chapter, but I'd best quit at that before I get too far ahead of myself.
Those of you who either know me personally (be it in real life, online, or both) or are just avid readers of anything I publish here at FFN may be interested to know that I am giving serious consideration to starting up some kind of journal or blog or maybe even a self-published, random column of some sorts. I thought I'd run this idea up the flagpole in case anyone had an opinion on what they would like to see me do with such a thing—or if it would even interest my core audience. I find myself at a place where I have more to say than just my stories, and I thought someone out there might be interested.
Thanks again to anyone reading this story, but especially to those who take the time to tell me how I'm doing. It really means a lot, so please keep encouraging me. And offering constructive criticism as needed. Anything to help me become a better author is greatly appreciated.
Other comments you want to make besides a review? By all means!
Please send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:
Lord Malachite
11/24/11
6:52AM, EST
E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com
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