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It was, Raven insisted, a mutual decision reached by her and Kori. She would never – not on her life – have suggested a romance film for team movie night if she was staking her own aloof-girl-persona on it, so it was undoubtedly nice to have her bubbly, hopeless-romantic best friend to fall back on. Plus, Raven defended herself adeptly to the boys, it was a film based on one of the finest pieces of literature ever written, and if they paid attention throughout the whole thing, they might even learn a thing or two.
“Are there any fight scenes?” Beast Boy wanted to know, sinking down into the couch as though he were being subjected to the cruelest form of torture known to man.
“Define fight scenes,” Raven said drily, checking to see if her tea was fully steeped.
“Blood and guts?” the changeling said hopefully, waggling his brows at the empath seated next to him.
Raven shot him a dark look. “No,” she replied simply. Beast Boy groaned.
“Ra-ven,” he complained, “how do you expect me to get through this entire chick flick without any violence?”
“I didn’t say there wouldn’t be violence,” Raven said, rising from her seat to deposit her teabag in the nearest trash can. She felt more than saw his interest pique at this, and couldn’t resist smirking as she delivered the fatal blow. “I mean, on-screen violence, no. Actual violence if you don’t shut up and sit still during the film…probably.”
Gar scowled. “Not cool, Rae.”
Satisfied with herself, Raven carried her mug back over to the couch with her, and the rest of the team came filing in behind her, laden with the gratuitous snacks the occasion necessitated. Against the background chatter of Starfire convincing Robin that mustard was a suitable alternative to butter in popcorn and Cyborg loudly demanding full custody of the Twizzlers, she resumed her spot next to Beast Boy, despite the sullen air that had fallen over him. She sighed as she settled in.
“Look, there’s at least…verbal sparring,” she said to him in a conciliatory manner.
His confusion, she saw, somehow deepened.
“Banter?” she clarified, quirking a brow pointedly.
“Like arguing?” Gar pressed, and she nodded. Gar huffed. “Don’t I get enough of that from you in real life anyway?”
“For the record,” Raven said with a small grimace, “that was me extending an olive branch — and you're a jerk.”
Gar seemed to consider this for a moment. “Aw, I’m sorry, Rae,” he said finally. “You know this just isn't my scene.”
“And B-list, made-for-TV sci-fi movies are not mine, and yet,” Raven quipped, but there was a small smile playing on her lips.
“I know you secretly like watching them alien guts explode everywhere,” Gar teased, and Raven was about to remind him that if real-life exposure was the metric, she’d probably had enough of alien guts, too, when Kori commanded the attention of the room with a loud clap.
“Friends!” the Tamaranean cried, a joyful smile plastered on her face. “It is now time to commence the viewing of the film chosen by Raven and I as an act of female bonding.”
“Azar,” Raven muttered into the brim of her mug, trying to ignore Gar’s shit-eating grin.
“Raven and I have partaken of this film experience on many occasions upon the evenings of our bonding rituals,” Kori went on explaining.
“Sleepovers,” Raven clarified to the room of puzzled faces.
“Many occasions, huh?” Gar whispered. Raven chose not to respond.
“It is the tale of the passion! The secrecy! The treachery!” Starfire was proclaiming at the head of the room. She lowered her voice. “It is the story of the pride,” she paused to seek Raven’s approval, “and the prejudice.” Raven gave a terse nod and Kori squealed, immediately finding her seat beside Robin. “Please, friend Cyborg, allow the film viewing to commence!”
Cyborg uttered a syllable of disbelief around a mouthful of Twizzlers. He swallowed as he began configuring the TV, muttering, “I don’t know why y’all act like you don’t know how to press a button.” Raven and Gar exchanged conspiratorial smirks as Vic loaded the movie. “Rae?” Vic called to her, and the empath telekinetically lowered the lights.
As curtain rose on Elizabeth Bennet’s leisurely morning stroll, Raven found herself grateful for the “no-talking” rule the Titans had instituted for team movie nights. The team had quickly discovered that they were all equally opinionated when it came to the fine art of cinema — though some, Raven had to admit, had more sophisticated critiques than others — and after putting their heads together, Raven and Robin had jointly decided that interrupting a film viewing with an ill-timed quip would be punishable by dish duty for a month. No one wanted that (especially after Starfire had used the kitchen), so they all did their best to abide by the code. But expecting Beast Boy and Cyborg to remain silent for any extended period of time — especially where action movies were concerned — was perhaps a bit too idealistic, so the rule was quickly modified to allow for one (1) outburst per Titan per film, and they must formally request the film to be paused first. More often than not they independently concluded that their contribution was not worth stopping the entire film, and thank Azar for that.
All this to say that Raven was currently putting up a silent prayer that Gar would not use his one time-out to offer commentary on Pride and Prejudice. She didn’t know why (she was honestly kind of afraid to peer too closely), but in recent weeks, she’d found enduring romance films and sex scenes while seated next to him particularly excruciating. She was hardly squeamish about that sort of thing, although she was also woefully inexperienced, to be sure. But one day, it was like a flip had switched, and suddenly she was all too aware of the heat of his body next to hers, the rise and fall of his chest during lulls in the plot, his increasing involuntary movement during climactic scenes, and…something else, every time there was an onscreen kiss.
When it had come time for Raven and Kori to choose a movie, she had agreed with Kori’s suggestion perhaps a bit too quickly. What better way to test her own tolerance than in a controlled environment like watching a movie she had seen a million times over and could recite front to back?
She was, naturally, regretting that now.
She steeled herself when Bingley and his entourage entered the ballroom, but quickly relaxed as she remembered that Gar was probably bored out of his mind and therefore very unlikely to pick up on any kind of romantic tension between Darcy and Lizzy. She tried very hard not to monitor his facial expressions out of the corner of her eye, and mostly succeeded. When Lizzy arrived at Netherfield in her muddy skirts, and Darcy rose as if panicked from his seat, she couldn’t help but notice a faint blip of emotion from Gar.
She put her hood up.
To an outside observer, a casual viewer, someone who was acquainted with the world of Jane Austen but by no means a fanatic, it may have seemed that Raven had more time. Darcy’s proclamation of love to Elizabeth was some ways off, and their only onscreen kiss was quite literally at the end of the film. Ostensibly, then, there was nothing to worry about now. Just relax and use this time to prepare for the real drama later on, right?
Wrong.
Everyone who knew anything knew that the most electrifying part of Pride and Prejudice (2005) was the hand-flex. The hand-flex, whereby the dashing but aloof Fitzwilliam Darcy could find no other way to react to touching the bare hand of the strong-willed Miss Elizabeth Bennet than by flexing his hand as if to ascertain his own existence, was delivered to the audience only twenty-five minutes into the film…via close-up. There was no way to ignore it. And so Raven could only hope that Gar (indeed, all of the male Titans) would simply have no idea how romantic it was.
Raven was also acutely aware that her own hand was resting flat on the sofa cushion, mere inches away from Gar’s. One pesky twitch of a finger could land her skin clearly on his own (of course he had to be ungloved tonight). She knew that she should rest her hands in her lap, tuck herself inside of her cloak, and evade perception for the evening. But her right hand was feeling rebellious, apparently.
As the scene in question approached, all the muscles in Raven’s body were decidedly mutinous, yearning to be in motion. No — to be nearer to him. She gritted her teeth. Where was this coming from, anyway? He was just a boy. A stupid boy. And this was just a movie. And she did not want to hold his hand.
The sound of Gar clearing his throat sent a noticeable jolt through Raven. He shot her a questioning look, which she dutifully ignored.
Raven kept her eyes somewhere beyond the screen as Darcy helped Elizabeth into her carriage, but she couldn’t miss the moment their hands met, their clandestine glances. She couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to touch his hand that way, something so small yet meaningful. Maybe that was what drew Raven to these stories. She was ever-cautious. She couldn’t risk a lapse in her control. But Azar, she was lonely. She craved touch. She didn’t need a kiss or a long-lasting embrace. She could be sated with something as unassuming as this — the brush of a hand.
The brush of his hand.
Which, she was realizing, was really real. She wasn’t imagining it. She looked down to find his pinky twining gently with hers, and nearly gasped from the shock.
She didn’t pull her hand away because she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to. His touch was warm, comforting, and yet undeniably disconcerting. She was grateful for the shelter of her hood. She didn’t dare meet his eye.
Raven kept her gaze fixed firmly on the floor, her emotions tumulting inside of her. What was happening? She couldn’t be doing this. He couldn’t be doing this. And who had initiated it? Surely him. But why? Was he teasing her? She suppressed a swell of indignation at the thought. He wouldn’t dare. But then why?
As these thoughts were consuming her, Gar’s hand was creeping over, abandoning its light caress of her pinky finger in favor of locking hands completely. Raven blanched, every nerve in her body in overdrive. She stared at their coupled hands in disbelief, watching his thumb traipse lazily over her skin as though it were familiar territory. She shuddered, and so did the far window, threatening to shatter. Her gaze flickered over to Gar’s, whose eyes were widening with concern. Abruptly, she removed her hand, rising from her seat.
“Pause,” she said loudly, almost a plea. Her other teammates looked on in confusion, but Cyborg obliged, pausing the film. “I’m…not feeling well,” she proclaimed, her eyes flashing to Beast Boy for half a second. Well, it wasn’t entirely a lie. He had completely disrupted her emotional homeostasis. “I think I’m going to call it a night. You guys have fun, though.”
“Okay Raven,” Dick said, apparently unconcerned. “Feel better.” Starfire nuzzled more tightly against him, obviously eager to resume the movie, and Vic offered her a pitying smile as she swept away before hitting play again. So they were fine, everyone was fine — except for maybe Gar, whose eyes she refused to meet again.
In the hall outside her room, she let out a shaky breath. Raven considered herself something of a wordsmith, and was proud to be able to express most sentiments sans profanity, but—
“What the fuck,” she wondered aloud, contracting her affected hand involuntarily. If this was a joke, it was a cruel one, and she had never known Beast Boy’s sense of humor to involve intentional cruelty. But nothing else made sense. Why her? Why tonight? And why did it make her feel so…so…
“Raven?”
She froze, identifying Gar’s presence behind her.
“What?” she demanded, her tone perhaps not as icy as she would have liked.
She heard him scuff his feet. “Are you…okay?” he asked. “I mean, are you…did I…make you uncomfortable?”
She still hadn’t moved, so he took the initiative, overtaking her and then planting his feet right in front of her. She looked up, arms wrapped around her torso, and saw genuine concern in his expression.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” she told him honestly. His mouth ticked upwards in an apologetic grimace.
“Yeah,” he said sheepishly, “sorry, Rae. I should’ve…I mean, you deserved a heads-up for something like that.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what came over me, Raven. I’m sorry.”
Raven nodded, lowering her hood to offer him a gentle smile. “It’s okay,” she said. “I didn’t not…like it.”
Gar brightened, a grin spreading across his face. “Wait, really?”
Raven blushed. “Really,” she admitted, biting her lip to hinder her growing smile.
“Cool,” Gar said eloquently. He cleared his throat, wringing his hands together awkwardly. “So, maybe when you’re feeling…better, you know…you and I could finish the movie together? Like, just the two of us?”
Raven raised an eyebrow, examining the changeling with scrutiny. “You want to finish Pride and Prejudice?”
Gar shrugged good-naturedly. “Well, sure, yeah,” he said. “It’s something I know you like. Plus, it’s not half bad from what I can see.” He paused for a moment, apparently considering something. “You know what I think is interesting about it? They don’t like each other at first, you know? They really don’t get along. Because they’re closed off and stubborn and have all these preset ideas about one another. But then,” he braved a step closer, but wisely resisted the urge to take her hand again, “they overcame all that, because they found out there was more to each other than met the eye.” He held her gaze for a long moment, and she found breathing a bit difficult. “I like stories like that,” he said softly.
Raven swallowed, resting one hand gingerly on his upper arm. “Of course,” she whispered. “I would love to finish the movie with you, Garfield.” Their faces were very close now — too close for Raven to manage in her current state — so she stepped back, making for her bedroom door. “Now I’m going to bed,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“‘Course, Rae,” Gar called, his voice brimming with happiness. “Night!”
As Raven was preparing to cross the threshold into her bedroom, something occurred to her. She stopped, turning to face Gar’s retreating form. “Beast Boy?” she called after him.
He turned, his face aglow and hopeful. “Yeah, Rae?”
Raven crossed her arms, steadying herself against her doorframe. “If you’ve never seen the movie before, how do you know how it ends?”
Gar blanched, a few bleating chuckles escaping from him. “Ah…eh heh, lucky guess?” he tried, inflection rising. Raven gave him a self-satisfied smirk, and he quickly turned to conceal his reddening face. “LaterRavenseeyouinthemorning!” he blurted as he rounded the corner.
Raven sighed, making her way into her bedroom at last. “Well,” she muttered, “guess I can’t meditate myself out of this one.”