He wrapped his hand around the cool glass of the bottle of beer and exhaled a sigh. The icy sensation was a harsh reminder he was technically underage in this particular city. Still, one of the many benefits of travelling through The Red was that when he needed to sneak a 6-pack to help him wind down after a busy couple of days, he could travel through space and time and be back in Bludhaven in only a matter of minutes.

He twisted open the bottle of Belgian beer and gave a small salute to the city he had gotten it from. He wasn't a big drinker but every once in a while, he liked to kick back with a bottle or two. It was a bad habit he picked up over a more challenging mission back in Europe six months ago when he met up with some less savoury "heroes". Constantine was a swindler and a flirt, but the guy knew his alcoholic beverages and was happy to show Gar the ropes. He still wasn't exactly sure what he had been drinking when he spewed out something vaguely pink, but the lager that Constantine put into his hand afterwards had done wonders to his stomach and he had a fondness for it ever since.

Gar felt slightly guilty as he took his first sip. He didn't often use The Red to export alcoholic beverages to minors (the minor being himself) but he only had a few months left until his 21st and it wasn't like he made a habit of it. He wasn't going to leave his apartment or drink the whole thing in one sitting and he did technically get it legally, after all.

Gar settled himself onto the sofa as he took another swig. He knew he shouldn't feel guilty about drinking (it wasn't like he was the first person in history to drink underage), but there was something in the back of his head that kept telling him that superheroes did not break the law.

And Gar Logan, aka Beast Boy, was a superhero. A really good superhero, if anyone asked him, which they… didn't.

But Gar's ability to shapeshift into animals and his unique connection to The Red made him almost invaluable, and people were noticing. He had become increasingly busy over the last few months and barely had time to come home. He spent so many nights away from his small apartment in Bludhaven- courtesy of Dick and Kory- that he barely recognized the place when he dragged his feet across the threshold.

But around him were all those possessions, all his furniture, all the photographs and knick-knacks that make a home and Gar loved them all. The four walls were his safety; a place to kick back and be not just a superhero, but a boy who could laugh, cry, and just be without anyone wanting him to save lives or fight villains.

It was his haven... Almost. Yes, he felt freer here than anywhere else- it was a place he felt like he could take off the hero hat and just play video games for hours on end but…. It just felt like something or maybe, someone was missing.

He knew who that someone was, of course. He knew it from the moment he saw her dark blue hair in a bowling alley all those years ago. When he saw her, every atom in his body had gone rigid as he stared. His heart seemed to stop beating and his stomach twisted over itself as he broke into a cold sweat. It was the oddest sensation, yet he felt more alive in that moment than in all the years then and since. Something inside him woke up for the first time that day and no matter how hard he tried, it refused to be tamed.

Which probably led to the situation he was in now.

He groaned as he thought of what happened the last time he saw her and took a comforting swig of his beer.

No wonder she hadn't spoken to him in nearly a year.

The chilled air bit at her cheeks and nose. She had only been outside for a few minutes, having opened her portal down a quieter street three blocks away, but it was enough time for the crisp night air to leave its frosty caress on her face.

She rubbed her hands together and silently cursed herself for forgetting her woolly gloves and hat. These autumn days full of red leaves and yellow sun were cheery and warm in the light but once the night crept in, the pleasant comfort would be replaced with long, dark shadows and a bitter chill that would freeze extremities.

Her gait quickened as she spotted the welcoming light of the apartment's lobby. She wanted to be inside, wrapped around a blanket, away from the cold and to a place where she could solitarily cry while she thought of the events and the realizations that had brought her here.

She choked down a sob as she fumbled with her spare key. She knew he wouldn't be there tonight- he seemed to never be home, but she also knew that by surrounding herself with the positive energy he left wherever he went, she could try to re-evaluate the incident that brought her here.

Her boots made little noise as she made her way to the elevator. She was already feeling better; could already feel her spirits lifting as she pressed the same button she knew he often pressed. They, along with Dick, Kory and the rest of the Titans, had made a pact long ago to never arrive in any home through teleportation, flying or The Red unless the situation was a dire one. Courtesies and polite behaviour were out the door if one was bleeding out, but for simple things, like a little heartache, they all knocked on doors, went up elevators and buzzed into dorm rooms like regular, civilized people.

As she waited for the elevator, a flashback from the day flared out in her mind's eye and she fought the tears that threatened to spill over.

To distract herself, Rachel squeezed her eyes shut and pictured the apartment she would soon be in.

He had kept the walls white to showcase all of the pictures he haphazardly put all over the apartment. Pictures of nature, of animals (of course) but also photos of his family; the ones that died so tragically, the ones who let him go, and the ones he called his family now.

She then pictured the Ikea furniture that she had helped him pick out and her mouth twitched as a smile broke through. She never knew how complicated building a simple dresser could be and had never laughed at the changeling so hard as she did that day.

The door to the elevator pinged open, breaking her from her happy reverie.

She stepped through and pushed the button to his floor. It wasn't the penthouse as they had back in San Francisco, but Gar had wanted something a little more subdued for his 'bachelor pad' and had settled on a modest, 2-bed apartment on the 30th floor which showed spectacular views of the city.

Another thing for her to daydream about as the elevator made its slow ascent to his floor, was the balcony and the panoramic view of the harbour and the skyscrapers around it. It was truly breathtaking and she spent so much of her time in his apartment just standing outside, taking it all in. He would bring her coffee on cold evenings to warm her hands and stand with her in companionable silence for as long as she wanted.

Of course, there was that one time, the last time she had seen him, and that had also been on the balcony.

The memory came unbidden, as it often did since it had happened all those months ago.

The twinkling lights of the city reflecting the glass of the apartment windows, the fireworks that had flashed green and purple as she stood out on the balcony in the freezing air. The way the cold bit at her nose and the look he had given her as she delighted in the pyrotechnical explosions over the water.

She frowned as she tried to banish the thought away. That was the last time she saw him- the last time they had spoken.

Saving her from falling down that mind-reeling, heart-lurching rabbit hole, the elevator had reached its destination and chimed open, allowing Rachel to make the steps toward his apartment at the end of the hall.

And there it was, his door. There was nothing remarkable about the black wood and the silver handle. Even the out-of-season Christmas wreath she had hung on the front (that he had neglected to take down) would not tell anyone of the extraordinary person who lived behind it.

A person she trusted, a person she admired, a person she cared for so, so deeply.

A person whom she desperately hoped wasn't home.

The jangle of a key and the sound of the door knob turning startled Garfield from his dark self-loathing.

He leapt from the sofa in a quick, fluid motion; reminiscent of the tiger he liked to shift into.

Like an old-fashioned rotary address file, he mentally flipped through all the people it could possibly be. Almost every Titan held keys to each other's homes but the likelihood of them just popping by without calling first was down to only two people: Dick and Rachel and he was 99.9% sure it wasn't Rachel.

He rolled his eyes and threw his head back to look at the ceiling.

"I'm not interested in one of your lectures right now, Dick," he groaned as his 'guest' let themselves in.

A feminine-sounding throat was cleared, "I go to lectures- I don't give them." An undertone of amusement came with a soft voice that he knew well.

"Rachel?" Gar whipped his head to the speaker and his eyes rounded in surprise.

With her short, wavy white hair and chakra gem glinting in the light, she stood in his hallway, in all her dark glory. Gar resisted the urge to pinch himself as surely this was something his unconscious, love-sick mind had conjured.

He took in a breath as he stared at her. Although Gar would argue that his vision of her in his psyche was an almost perfect version of his long-time unrequited crush, the version now in front of him put the other to shame. Her full lips, with their smeared red lipstick, were curled into a shy, cautious smile. Her cheeks, usually as white as a dove, were now stained black with mascara streams running down her wide eyes. Those eyes he so often dreamt about, were ringed with red and worry.

Even though she had been crying, Gar would take the flawed, real Rachel over the perfect, imaginary one any day.

"Rachel! Umm… Hi! Wow, it's so good to see you! How are you… are you okay, is everything alright? What are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you- I am! Of course, I am! It's just unexpected and…. Wow! I was totally not expecting this tonight!" He internally cringed at his verbal diarrhea.

Rachel watched his strange performance with a downturned mouth and regretful eyes. "I'm sorry." She bent her head and looked away from his stare. "I didn't think you would be here and… well… I didn't know where else to go." The last words were ones of whispered remorse.

Gar's heart became lead and gravity promptly thrust it to the floor.

Instinctively, he reached out to try and comfort her but realized too late what he held in his hand.

Rachel didn't miss the action and a gleam of mischief shone in her eye as she saw the bottle he held.

The corner of her mouth trembled into a small smile of entertainment. "Am I interrupting something?" she asked, and the tilt to her head and subtle rise of her eyebrows proved to Gar that the moment might just be salvageable.

"Oh this?" he indicated to the bottle, "Dick must've left it here last time he came round. Nasty stuff!" He wrinkled his nose in mock displeasure. "I was actually just about to… to make…hot chocolate?" his voice rose into a question as he clocked in on the pink of her nose.

With a nod, Rachel bit her lip and demurely smiled.

Her lips turning in such a way ignited a blowtorch that melted his laden heart and the glimmer in her eyes were the bubbles which floated it back to the safety of his ribcage.

With a wide grin, Gar launched himself into his small kitchen, Rachel following at his heels.

Putting the half-drunk bottle on the counter, he filled the kettle and pulled out the hot chocolate mix and mugs.

As he scooped out the brown, sugary powder, he spied Rachel in the corner of his eye, swiping up the beer and taking an appreciative sip.

"Hey," he laughed. "Get your own!"

She grinned at him as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'd rather that, thanks," she gestured with her chin to the assembled ingredients for her chocolate drink.

Gar folded his arms and rested against the counter. "And here's me thinking that all college kids did was drink and party. And go to a few classes once in a while, I suppose," he chuckled lightly. But the laughter quickly fell from his face and he uncrossed his arms and started toward her once he saw her downturned features. "Rach?" he asked, reaching out to her again.

She stepped away from him and shook her head. Gar could see her desperately trying to hold back tears and he wanted to kick himself for saying something that was obviously triggering.

"It's nothing, Gar. It's just… I came from a party. One that I was really looking forward to and… it didn't go as I thought it would, that's all."

Anger flashed through him and all Gar could do was clench his fists and nod. If anyone had hurt her or did something to make her upset, he would do everything in his power to make that person pay- even if it meant briefly 'forgetting' he was a superhero for an hour or two.

These thoughts must have been written all over his face as Rachel hastily lifted her hands in a placating wave. "It was nobody's fault," she said with conviction. With a sigh, she slouched into herself and rubbed her temple with two fingers. "Just my own," she softly breathed.

She had quickly excused herself to the washroom after her confession. She knew he wanted to know more about her night and her impromptu visit to his apartment but before she started talking about what happened earlier, she needed to assess the situation she was currently in.

His being here was completely unexpected and completely out of the plan. Walking through the door and seeing his face had thrown her off-guard and she honestly didn't know where to go from here.

She had only wanted to sit in his apartment, stew in his positive energy and think about how she was going to face him. It was so complicated- especially since the last time they talked, but the event earlier that night had revealed some hard truths that Rachel could no longer flippantly ignore.

Sighing, she splashed water onto her face and attempted to rub off some of the makeup that had stained her cheeks. The timing sucked but she wasn't going to run away from this. A heart-to-heart was inevitable now.

Bracing herself, she took a breath, threw back her shoulders and lifted her chin. She tried to ignore the butterflies as they flitted around her stomach. It had been almost a year and there was no guarantee he still felt the same as he did that night. And considering how she had pushed him away since… she deserved his ire.

She gave herself one last look in the mirror and opened the door.

It was time she let her heart do the talking.

The angry shrill of the kettle brought Gar out of his bewildered daze. Quickly but methodically he poured the hot water in the awaiting mugs and stirred the hot liquid. His mind was numb as he picked up the filled cups and made steps toward the living room. It wasn't until he looked up and saw his reflection in the balcony door that he finally registered what had just happened and he stopped in his tracks to stare at his reflection.

Rachel was here, in his apartment. She had been to a party- one she said she had wanted to go to and yet something had happened at the party to make her so upset that she had come here, of all places.

Gar frowned at his reflection as he tried to find the significance in all of it. She hadn't been here, hadn't seen him in months- not since that day.

His frown deepened and he stared at the balcony in a harsh, accusatory glare. That was where it had happened. The twinkling lights overhead, the colourful fireworks over the water, the joy in her eyes were all too much and he couldn't hold it in anymore, couldn't stop whatever magnet it was that pulled him towards her.

She had walked away from his lips and his embrace without looking back.

After hearing the door thud as it closed, he stood in the cold for hours afterwards. He stood cursing the lights, cursing the fireworks and cursing himself for ruining what they had.

He had sent a thousand text messages, a thousand voice messages, all apologies, all begging for forgiveness.

She had ignored every last one.

And now here she was, out of the blue, in his washroom, probably crying, probably finding a way to tell him to stay out of her life for good.

And yet….

Hadn't she said that she didn't know where else to go?

How could that possibly be when she could just portal to Kory's and Dick's, Tim's or Connor's? Heck, she could probably hang with Dawn or Donna if she really wanted to find them. A Titan saying they had nowhere to go was like a beagle sitting quietly while a buffet of food was on the table: practically impossible.

The click of his bathroom door opening startled him and he instinctively clipped a smile on his face before handing her the hot chocolate.

She had wiped the mascara smear from her lovely face, her eyes seemed brighter, and Gar felt a warmth in his middle that made him a little more hopeful than he had been only seconds ago. He gestured to the couch and they both sunk into herringbone-patterned polyester.

He watched her as she took a sip of the sweet coca and he mimicked the gesture. He needed to plan his next words and articulate a conscientious and thoughtful discussion in which his heartfelt apology would be accepted. He only hoped that the organ he so constantly wore on his sleeve would somehow remain intact.

He licked his lips of the velvety drink and watched her as she smiled into her 'it's a goth life' mug that he gifted her two Christmases ago. She had insisted on keeping it in his apartment and he had lost count of the number of times he had filled it for her.

Speaking of his apartment, he couldn't hold in the question any longer.

"Rach, what did you mean when you said you didn't know where else to go? You know you have Dick, Kory, Tim, Conner, hell even Jason would take you in if you were in a bind. You're a Titan, you are cared for and loved by so many. Why come here, after all these months?"

She cast her eyes to the floor and Gar braced himself for her indignation but became utterly confused when she broke into unexpected giggles.

"This is my safe space, Gar. I come here often." She smiled at him as if she was questioning him and his cluelessness.

Gar gawked at this strange revelation.

"Wait, are you telling me you come to my apartment when I'm not around? Like, frequently?" he asked, flabbergasted at this bombshell.

Rachel looked guilty at the confession. "I'm sorry- I never meant any harm. It's just that your energy here… it's infectious." She shrugged her shoulders as if she was stating the obvious. "I didn't know where else to go that would make me as happy as I am right here- close to you." She looked away from him and whispered, "Even when you're not here."

Gar tried to keep his features from looking indifferent to her words but he was pretty sure that a marching band was parading around his centre and he had to fight to keep the corner of his mouth from turning up.

"Well…" he trailed off, trying not to start humming 'Walking on Sunshine' which he was certain the band was now playing. "That's…. Good," he said, the smile he had tried to force back accidently sneaking through.

But the smile was quickly replaced as he remembered her red-rimmed eyes when she walked through the door. "Is that why you came here tonight? You needed some…" he fought for the word, "Comfort?" he asked, hoping he properly interpreted her confession.

Rachel stared at the mug in her hands. "I'm sorry I didn't call or text," she murmured, ignoring his question.

She looked so forlorn with her downcast eyes and her teeth biting into her lower lip that whatever trumpets had been playing around his head quickly lost their tune and Gar felt nothing but agony for this melancholic girl in front of him.

"Rach," he said, putting down his hot chocolate and reaching for her hand, "It's okay. I shouldn't have done what I did. I should've spoken to you first and told you how I felt. I'm sorry for putting you in an impossible situation, it was unfair of me."

Rachel looked up at him with her big blue eyes and he hoped that she was using her empathic powers through their touch. He tried to channel all his sincerity into their clasped hands.

The side of her mouth curled upwards, as if she was correctly reading everything he was trying to convey. Her eyes seemed to shimmer and Gar was on the verge of confessing everything to her when she licked her lips and said his name.

"Gar," she repeated, a serious edge to her tone. "I met a boy at school."

Gar pulled away from her hand as if it was a firebrand.

"Oh," he breathed. He involuntarily closed his eyes and pushed down the bitter taste of disappointment rising up his throat. "I'm happy for you, Rach," he said. He knew it didn't sound genuine; disappointment practically dripped from every word but his heart had just taken a nosedive off of Niagara Falls and he was plunging into its chilly waters to try and find it again.

He rubbed his hands on his dark jeans and tried to rearrange his features so the shock and the sorrow wouldn't be read all over his face. He felt like he was still swimming, still trying to find the pieces of his heart and somehow needed to find a way to glue them back together again.

She had someone else. His home was a beacon of light and happiness for her but it wasn't enough- he wasn't enough to be her boyfriend, partner, lover- whatever label she was giving this other guy who Gar immediately hated with every fibre of his being.

An irrational anger started a flare of heat from inside his belly. The flames licked his insides, burning through his limbs, begging him to shift into something big and menacing to take down Rachel's stupid boy. His nostrils flared and his breath quickened as he mentally rolled over some of his more fearsome forms. He instinctually cracked his knuckles and clenched his jaw and was trying to decide if a polar bear would be a better predator over a timber wolf when he spied Rachel out of the corner of his eye.

With her arms folded across her chest and a single eyebrow raised, Rachel Roth looked every inch the unimpressed and exacerbated young woman she was.

Gar felt his cheeks get hot in embarrassment.

"You done?" Rachel asked, her upturned eyebrow somehow rising further.

Gar rubbed the back of his neck and nodded sheepishly, "Ya. Sorry."

Rachel leaned forward and clasped her small hands around one of his larger ones. Her touch was warm and calming and Gar immediately felt soothed by the action.

"I met a boy at school. He asked me to go to this party tonight and I was excited because I thought I liked him. He's a pretty good guy and we were having a good night," she smiled sadly and shrugged, "but when he kissed me…" Rachel's gaze turned away from Gar's as she stared intently at their hands.

The seconds ticked by and Gar didn't realize he was holding his breath until he started feeling slightly dizzy.

"It felt so…" She looked like she was fighting for the right word and although Gar desperately wanted to know what she was thinking, he also knew this was not a time to rush her.

"It felt so wrong," she finally admitted. "This perfectly nice boy that I thought I liked didn't really like me- he liked the student he knew; Rachel Roth, a coffee enthusiast who is terrible at geometry. He knew nothing of Raven, daughter of Trigon and wielder of dark magic." She unclasped their hands and collapsed back onto the sofa. "Would he still kiss me if he knew that part of me?"

Her attention was away from him now and the diversion allowed him a second to compress his thoughts.

With clenched fists and lowered eyes, he pushed down his own, selfish thoughts and conjured the strength to approach this as if he were her brother and not a guy who was hopelessly in love with her.

"Any guy would be lucky to have you, Rach. All aspects of you." He hoped she didn't see the nervous drumming his finger was doing on his thigh. "You shouldn't be afraid to show him that part of you. If he's got any sense at all, he'd like you even more."

He tried not to flinch as he pictured this person- this boy- seeing Rachel as she used her dark magic. Would he watch in fascination when her eyes lit up with her red power? Would he long to touch the fingers she so nimbly used to manipulate her black energy? Would he be awed by her raw talent and humbled that he was able to witness it?

Stupid boy, Gar thought longingly. Gar had seen every aspect of the girl- both the mild-mannered student who liked to laugh as well as the demi-demon who could destroy just as well as she could heal. And he loved it all- craved it all. She deserves someone who would embrace every part of her and fight in her corner through thick and thin.

But he had messed up.

He had pushed her too far and now he would never be that lucky guy.

Her happiness now was the only thing that was important so he swallowed the lump in his throat and said the words that took himself from the "potential love interest" box and firmly hurled his body into the "big brother" box.

"You have every right to be upset but honestly, if you like this guy and want to be open with him, you should just talk to him and tell him about your super cool powers. I guarantee he'll like you even more and if he kisses you again, it won't feel so wrong. And if he runs away, I know some superheroes who can be discreet in their ass-kicking." He plastered what he hoped was a bright grin on his face.

Rachel tilted her head and looked at Gar with a contemplative gaze which made the shapeshifter thank all the stars in the sky that her empathic ability was from touch alone.

Several seconds ticked by with Rachel staring at Gar and the poor changeling starting to sweat under her observant, startlingly blue eyes.

"The thing is, Gar," she started. She bit her lip and Gar noticed how agitated she seemed with her usually graceful fingers twisting the ring on her middle finger and her eyes darting around the room. "The thing is," she repeated now looking to the floor, "It wasn't a very good kiss. There was no… spark. And when he kissed me, I realized that I already had someone who knew and liked both the dark and light side of me." Rachel looked at Gar with imploring eyes, "This person also happened to be a very good kisser." A shy smile crept across her face.

Gar felt the room spin.

"Oh?" he managed to squeak out.

Rachel nodded, lips still curled into a smile. "Sparks. Lots of them," she said, eyes lighting up like the fireworks she was describing.

He didn't know who leaned in first but in an instant, his lips were on hers and a burst of rockets exploded from his chest and shot to his fingertips which were now buried into her hair. She seemed just as eager to be close as he felt her hands as they raced across his body from his chest, his face to his arms and back again. Every touch was kindling for the happy inferno that was blazing inside of him.

Her lips became just as busy as her hands as she gently kissed along his jawline then back to his mouth. She parted her lips and she tasted sweet, like the hot chocolate she had been drinking. Gar wanted every last bit of that sugar to be all over his lips, in his mouth and his tongue.

Garfield Logan wanted to pinch himself as he must be dreaming- or maybe he was dead as surely this was heaven. His dream girl was kissing him, here in his apartment and as much as he wanted to continue with this sensuous and long overdue make-out session, Gar still had a question or two that needed asking.

Reluctantly breaking away from her full, sugary lips, Gar sucked in a deep breath and readied to calm his nerves to talk.

"Confused?" Rachel asked, stealing the question away from him.

Surprised, Gar merely nodded.

"Me too… Until today. And then I thought I had ruined everything and that you no longer cared. That's why I came here; to be around you in any capacity I could. I'm sorry I just barged in here but-"

"Don't ever be sorry. My place is your place. Anywhere, anytime."

She smiled a warm, grateful smile. "Thank you. But It's just four walls- it's a comfort, but you're the one I go to, the one I need when I am lost and have nowhere else to go." She lovingly touched his cheek, "You're my person, Gar. I'm sorry it took so long for me to see it."

Their lips touched again. It was not the frantic, magnetic kiss of before but a soft, hungry kiss that somehow seemed to speak poetic words of passion, longing and love.

Something in his stomach settled and for the first time since he had seen her standing over a pinball machine all those years ago, the ache and the restlessness was gone and a feeling of contentment in its place.

And like the tiger he so liked to shift into, he wanted to purr in the delight of this new feeling.

And as Gar Logan, also known as Beast Boy, wrapped his arms around Rachel Roth, he remembered a very important thing.

He was a superhero- a really good one if anyone asked him, which they… didn't. But in all his years of reading comics, watching action flicks and meeting his heroes, he had forgotten one significant perk of the job: The superhero always gets the girl.

Authors Note:

Yes this is a Titans BBRae. I love BBRae in all its iterations. These guys are end game and we were robbed. Sorry, not sorry.