It's 3 AM

Rated: T

"Is it true what they say about witches?" Garfield took the liberty to pick up a single one of the many auspicious glass decanters lining the shelves of Raven's workspace. He brought it close to examine it in the dim light of the fire, trying to decipher the oozing, almost glowing, pink muck from within it. As if on cue, it bubbled and popped, like molten lava, and he nearly dropped it to the floor.

"What part?" She had a flicker of amusement in her otherwise flat tone, but she never bothered to grace him with a look, far too embroiled with her own machinations. "The one about eating babies, or the crooked nose and moles?"

Garfield carefully placed the glass back onto her shelf, and tried to appear as charming as possible with his trademark grin. "We all know that you've got a lovely nose, of course."

"Do I? How can you be certain my appearance isn't merely an enchantment meant to bewitch you? Perhaps I'm only using a feminine allure that happens to appeal to a man's weak-minded, superficial preferences."

The nervous gulp from the shafeshifter made the sorceress's smile grow, even as she was busy bent over, studying the development of the dying plant she'd imbued with a spell only days ago, through a lens.

He cleared his throat, adjusted his clothes, and walked towards her, trying to keep his eyes level instead of proving her point by having his gaze drift to her well-defined rear. Taking a peek at what she was looking at, he feigned interest, "Is it growing yet?"

Raven clucked her tongue in annoyance, her eyes not leaving the tiny green specimen before her. "These things take time, Garfield."

He rocked on his heels before looking out the tower's open windows to spot the dark stillness of night and its twinkling stars. "I can see that," he added with a frown, his brows furrowing. "Speaking of time," he stretched his arms wide in a loud yawn, "shouldn't we be heading back? I've got a pillow with my name on it."

The young, cloaked woman rolled her eyes. "You may leave, if you wish to," she dismissed him, her tone cold and uncaring.

"You know that I can't do that."

Raven stood up, sighing deeply before turning to appraise him with her fingers massaging her temples. "I am more than capable of taking care of myself, we've been over this countless times!"

As per usual, the green-skinned man stood his ground, his mouth a tight line. "I am also perfectly aware of that. However, I still can't just leave. I'd be disobeying direct orders, and-"

"Just because you are my husband — not by choice, mind you — does not mean that you own me," she interjected venomously.

She saw a muscle at his jaw twitch before he carefully replied in a low voice, no doubt containing his agitation with her. "You, of all people, should know that isn't how I think of you at all, because if I did, we wouldn't be having this conversation at all right now. What I was going to say, had you not interrupted me, was that the last time I disobeyed orders, you were kidnapped and nearly killed by a crazy demonic cult, and I was demoted to a busboy at the filthiest bar in town."

Raven scoffed, leaning back against her round, wooden work table and gripping the edges with her fingers. "Are you seriously gloating because you don't take advantage of my body?" Her darkly painted lips curled into a wicked smile. "Why don't you ask your general what happened to the last man who tried that."

"For the last time, I'm not here as your goddamn husband! I'm here as part of the Queen's guard! To protect you, as by her request! Just like I did when she asked me to marry you, and just like I did when that demon worshipping witch boy nearly sacrificed you to Trigon!" He was shaking, and perhaps that humbled the dark haired enchantress a little.

She tapped the point of her chin with a single index finger, pondering. "We've both made sacrifices for the sake of others, Garfield. It isn't that I am unappreciative, but if you don't let me do my part and finish my work here, then you'll be shackled to me forever, and I very much doubt you want that."

Raven then turned and rubbed at her sleep-ridden eyes, feeling the weariness of the night tugging at her very bones while the promise of a dreamless sleep tempted her sweetly. She'd used her abilities to maneuver one of the jars over to her position, too exhausted to walk to it herself, but even the magic was taxing on her mind. Sleep tugged at the edges of her psyche, and her eyelids were barely able to stay open. Opening the bottle once it had reached her hand, she uncorked it and took a swig of the cold, vile liquid inside, feeling all semblance of tiredness dissipate once more. She gagged a little on the flavor, but pressed her hand to her lips to keep it down.

Garfield's hand was on the small of her back, and he took the glass from her hands before she knew what was happening. Raven was so weary, she hadn't even noticed that he'd moved so close, and so she looked up at him in surprise, watching shadows dance on his face with the fading light of the flickering candles. Using the pad of his thumb, he wiped at a dribble of liquid that had slipped down her chin. "What I want, right now, is for you to get some rest before you overwork yourself to death. Everything will still be here in the morning, and that stuff you've been drinking can't possibly be healthy in the doses I've seen you take." His voice was soft and intimate, as if it were for her ears only.

He brushed a strand of her long, violet hair behind her ears, and stared down into her eyes.

Azar be damned, she wanted him to kiss her!

Feeling foolish and weak by the unprecedented sentiment, Raven immediately pushed him away as easily as she did the feeling. "I'd sooner die from trying to do some good work than at the filthy hands of a group of angry bigots and disbelievers."

He cupped her chin and forced her to look back at him, eyes glassy as he searched the planes of her face. "Rae, you're exhausted, and I'm not going to stand here and watch you work yourself to death…You're…you're too important for that. More important than anyone else."

"Are you imposing a curfew on your bride, then?" she mused, desperate to get away from his touch before she caved into his charm.

Garfield chuckled. "Is that what it's going to take to get you to go to sleep?"

Raven sighed, and slowly began putting away the various scrolls and items that were laid out on the table. "Fine, you win this time, Garfield."

"Gar," he corrected her, offering her the crook of his arm to take once she had the scrolls tucked away and the candles blown out.

Raven snapped her fingers and a ball of luminescence was dispensed overhead in the air, showcasing the hollow of her cheekbones and the shadow of her long, thick fringe of lashes.

Carefully, she took his arm and they began walking out of the room, the glowing light following them and illuminating their steps forward.

"Man, I don't think I'm ever going to get over how you do that," Garfield admitted wistfully, admiring her handiwork. "It's amazing."

Raven flushed at the compliment, absent-mindedly using her free hand to brush her loose hair behind her ear. "Most people find it utterly terrifying, you know."

"Good thing I'm not most people."

"Says the man who can bend his shape to that of any living creature," she said pointedly.

He grinned at her as they went down the small corridor of stairs, the click of her heels echoing down the stone steps. "Yeah, but I can't conjure light out of thin air, and I sure as hell can't levitate at will, or teleport, or do any of the things that you can, really."

"It's better that you can't. Have you seen the amount of people who'd rather have me dead? I've been running my whole life, Garfield, and it's all because of the things that I can do, and who my father is. A normal life has always eluded me, and I'd wish my fate on no one, let alone you."

He gripped her tightly, bringing her closer to him. Garfield was merely being protective, but he knew that Raven disliked being treated like some dainty little trophy wife he felt obligated to guard. Yet, telling her that he truly cared for her well-being would have just earned him a scoff and an eyeroll. Some day, he'd hoped he could change her colder attitude towards him. During the good days, he almost thought he was succeeding, too.

"Normal is overrated, anyways," he informed her. "But, I for one, am glad to have you here, on ourside. I'm sure Starfire and Nightwing both feel the same way, Raven."

"I-I know that. Which is why I wanted to keep working…I want to help, to prove my worth, and not to just be a burden to everyone," she confessed with downcast eyes.

"You are not a burden," he insisted.

Raven's bottom lip was quivering by the time they'd made it outdoors where the whole city slept. "You were forced to marry me over ridiculous, archaic rules and tradition, and yet you're still saying that I'm no burden?"

He grabbed her by the shoulders, steadying her exhausted form — somehow fragile and pale in the waning moonlight, despite being capable of the most destructive powers Garfield had ever seen.

"I already told you — I wasn't going to get married, anyways. There's no loss here for me, Rae," he reminded her, his voice a hushed whisper against the chirping of the crickets. "Stop beating yourself up over it, please."

She rubbed at her eyes — an impossible shade of indigo in the darkness of night — and clutched her cloak tighter about her throat. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's late, and I'd very much like to get to bed."

The tip of her nose was red from the chill in the air, and she sniffled.

Garfield wrapped his arms about her and pulled her in close before she could argue. "You'll catch a cold, and Kory'll have my hide for it," he sighed.

"For a cold?" Raven raised a sharp, inky black brow at him.

"You clearly don't know the Queen very well, do you?"

The witch groaned. "I think you're using Kory as an excuse to get closer to me, but have your way, Garfield. I'm in no mood for an argument."

"It's Gar, and who wouldn't want to get close to you? You're kind of a total bombshell," he added cheekily. "Who happens to be my wife."

Raven rolled her eyes. "You're insufferable," she muttered, but her cheeks were rosy with colour and she didn't struggle against his embrace as they walked to their quarters.

"But I'm growing on you, right?" Garfield waggled his eyebrows, trying to garner a laugh, or a smile, or even a twitch of her lips, to no avail.

Instead, she scrutinized him with an unblinking stare, and asked him, "How is it that you're the same man Kory claims to be one of her most elite soldiers, the same man who took out General Blood in hand-to-hand combat, and the same man that rescued Richard from torment at the hands of Deathstroke?"

"Uh," he paused, thinking carefully. "Would you believe it if I told you that I just get really, really lucky a lot of the time?"

Unimpressed, Raven, stated, "No. No, I wouldn't. I don't believe in things like luck."

She then shimmied out of his grip and strutted on ahead.

"I think I know a girl that might make you change your mind about that!" Garfield called out after her, but it was evident that she was no longer listening.

TBC (one day)