Hey-ho!

Sorry I've been a bit MIA. Between work, a week of long traveling, and trying to do some marketing on my book, I've found myself a little overwhelmed.

Anyway, this is something a little different (as always). I hope you like it. I'll be doing my best to update every week, regularly. I hope you enjoy it - it's a little out of my bailiwick.

I own nothing. The Teen Titans belong to DC and their respective creators.

Chapter titles are taken from the song "Valerie Plame" by Peter Tracy.

Raven knew how people worked.

It was sort of her specialty and why she'd been hired by the espionage group, the Titans, in the first place. She read people like others read newspapers. Emotions were like traffic lights for her. The slightest flicker and she could tell you exactly what you were thinking. More often than not though, she used the information to back you into a corner, have you lay out all your painful truths and leave you to pick up the pieces after she got what she came for.

It made her a wonderful spy.

That's why she was in some dive bar in Brazil, sipping a mojito. Slade Wilson did it all - drugs, human trafficking, prostitution, counterfeiting, and he had the materials to prove it. He was a conniving, ruthless son of a bitch and although his house was in Brazil, he was never there. However, his brother's house, his accountant, was considered the hub and Adonis took the information down in a ledger here. Which is why she was currently sliding up to the far less intelligent and successful Adonis.

The bar was mostly empty, a lightly tanned tourist in the corner, sleeping off one too many caiperinas, a few dark-eyed women looking to make some quick cash in a back corner, several men who were clearly soldiers enjoying some time off, with their guns in tow.

Despite all of that, Raven's pulse remained steady and calm. She had complete control over the situation, like she always did. She had control over herself and her surroundings.

Raven was in her element.

She knew how to use what she had. And she had quite a bit. It'd taken some time to become confidant, but now she wielded herself as another weapon. Beautiful, dark, mysterious.

Handsome, if gullible, Adonis didn't stand a chance.

Two drinks, he'd invited her to sit at his table.

Three and he'd leaned over to speak directly in her ear.

Five drinks and a very casual brush of her hand had them in his room in the next seven minutes.

From there, it was a glass or two of champagne (with a little something extra thrown in) and using the cliche "just let me freshen up" to escape from his hands and into the bathroom.

When she heard the muffled thud, she got up from where she was sitting on the counter and walked out.

Adonis was slumped on the floor, his pants half on.

Raven rolled her eyes and went into her purse. Her suit was lightweight and could be rolled up to fit into her tiny clutch bag, even with her small utility belt in there as well. The dress was discarded, along with the empty purse and now useless identification. She pulled on her boots, checked her magazine, and then settled herself by the door to wait.

Three am.

Raven slipped out of Adonis's bedroom, its owner still snoring on the ground. A glance down the hall to ensure she was alone, then she was sneaking up the stairs and into Adonis's office. The decorator apparently chose a tacky theme of paneled wood and paintings hanging from almost every available surface. Raven slipped a tiny camera out of her belt and took a few quiet pictures of the room, the bookshelf, the desk. Seeing a particular title, she hesitated, glancing at the paintings. Going on her instinct, she grabbed the worn book off the shelf, tucking it into the computer bag on the back of the desk chair and throwing that over her shoulder. Her instincts usually led her right.

Still, she was here for the ledger. She opened up the drawer to the desk and she grinned. There it was. Pulling the ledger out, she opened it up to the first page and took a picture. It was better if no one knew she was there, but she'd snag the book if she had to. Right now, though, all alone, there was nothing to keep her from-

Raven heard the slightest brush.

She looked up, meeting the green eyes of the drunk tourist from the bar. Apparently, not drunk at all. Also, not a tourist.

He smirked, leaning against the wall. "You can tell a lot about a woman from what's in her purse."

Raven glanced over, noting the muscled frame, the eight inches he had on her, the tell-tale marks beneath his shirt that denoted at least two guns and a knife. She saw all that within a moment and adjusted her stance. Control.

He continued, the laugh just beneath his words, "A gun, camera, and a charming red ledger. Which I would like."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Please," he added sarcastically, the smirk growing.

"No," Raven retorted, adding a hint of a Brazilian accent, not enough for him to pinpoint the area, but just enough to throw him off.

"I said please." His voice was low, mellow, and highly amused. No accent at all.

Raven cocked her head and in a movement almost too quick to be seen, drew her gun. "No."

"Heh, well, I've got one of those, too," he said, pulling out his own weapon. He didn't aim it at her, which was the only reason she didn't blow away his kneecaps then and there. "But if you shot, you'd wake Adonis and his men. Who I'm sure will be…incredibly disappointed." He chuckled.

Everything was said in the barest whisper, so only she could hear it. Despite the volume, she knew exactly what kind of agent this was. The kind who was in it for the thrill only, not the mission.

"Nothing I can't handle."

"No doubt. But why make a mess when you've been so clean and quiet?"

"Because some asshole thinks he can swoop in and take my score," Raven responded, stepping back towards the double windows. She shouldn't be encouraging this conversation, but his grin was infuriating.

He followed, moving silently on the hardwood floor. For a covert mission, choosing to wear green and purple was really a faux pas. It didn't clash as horribly as she thought it would with his short, dirty blonde hair. It stuck up haphazardly, like he'd just gotten up. However, he did move silently. "You just did it so well. I didn't want to interrupt."

"Yeah, well. You can report to Barney that I'm not in a sharing mood today."

His smile widened, "Funny. Make a crack at my clothes. I would return the favor..."

Raven didn't even twitch as he eyed her rather clinging outfit. Control.

"...but I really am speechless."

The guy hadn't shut up since he got here. She scoffed.

"I will follow you around all night to get that." His brow arched, "And of course I mean the ledger."

Raven didn't bat an eye. "Knock yourself out." She hated the idea of playful banter between operatives. It was a waste of time. Almost at the window, she was just about ready to go.

His smile left his face and his head swung towards the door due to some imperceptible noise. In the same breath, he was raising his gun. Raven followed his movements instinctually.

The door slammed open and Raven made a split decision. She fired on the five men who shoved into the room, trusting the man in green not to shoot her in the crossfire. Two went down with her first two shots, their kneecaps relocating with her bullets. The green-eyed man took out two more. Then six others came rushing in.

New plan.

She slid the ledger into the bag. While the green-eyed man was keeping the others down, she ran out onto the balcony and did what she did best. In the cool darkness of the late night, goosebumps rose on Raven's arms as the breeze stirred the clothes hanging from the line.

She could read the situations, just like the read the room. Once, she'd thought her way out of a diplomatic embassy shoot out without ever even firing her gun. Her mind was her weapon and it'd never failed her. She just needed to assess the-

"Hold on!"

Raven flinched as an arm wrapped around her waist and propelled her over the railing. She braced herself for the impact and –

-never hit the ground.

They were sliding down a clothesline, her unwanted ally having thrown a suit jacket over the line and holding onto the sleeves. It wasn't the worst plan, though the laughter coming out of his mouth was irritating.

Reluctant, Raven had followed his instructions and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, while he held onto her waist with his free arm.

They hit the ground hard, but neither one of them hesitated. They were up and running within a second of one another, the man pulling out ahead.

Raven could hear shouts behind her and knew that they'd have to find someplace to hide and quick. Not that alleyway, no way out. That building was too empty, that one too full.

"In here," the man in front of her hissed and veered right. She saw what he had in mind and would have agreed. If she had been alone.

Still, they didn't have another option and Adonis's men were closing in.

She followed him into an alcove with barely enough room for her, let alone both of them. Raven had to allow the man to put his arms around her waist and get closer than she would have preferred in order for there to be enough room.

Placing her hands on his chest was Raven's only option, so she did, impressed to find that his heartbeat hadn't risen at all. Her own heart rate had increased slightly with the adrenaline, as was natural, but this man didn't even appear to notice.

"You know," he murmured, his breath brushing her hair, "if I'd known it would only have taken a few bullets and a jump out a window to get you into my arms, I would have done that when I saw you at the bar hours ago."

"You do know I'm armed, right?" she muttered, listening for their pursuers.

He chuckled, the noise making her fingers vibrate on his chest. "Makes it even hot-"

"Shut up."

Footsteps stopped at the end of their alley and began quietly forward.

Raven tensed and felt the man's hands tighten reflexively on her. She wasn't sure if that was to keep her from moving, or his own attempt at remaining still.

Without breathing, Raven waited.

"Come on! They must have doubled back!" a voice shouted from the street.

The footsteps stopped, turned, and headed away from them. Neither Raven nor the stranger moved for a full two minutes, making sure no one was waiting.

"I think the coast is clear," he said, smiling down at her. His grin glinted in the streetlights and Raven noticed some abnormally sharp canines.

"Then I'll be going," she answered, leaning away from him.

He didn't let go. "I mean, you could stay."

The man leaned down and Raven knew exactly what was happening.

And what was about to happen.

He froze when the cold, metal barrel of Raven's gun reached a very interesting part of his anatomy. "Not cool."

"I'd really rather not stay," Raven murmured, taking what scant inches she could in the alcove to back away from him.

He smirked and moved his hands behind his back, apparently at ease that her piece was right against his. "Well, I'd never make a woman stay against her will."

"First smart thing you've said all morning," she said, stepping into the alleyway and away from him.

"I hope we bump into one another again," he smiled, turning to watch her.

Raven rolled her eyes.

"You're breaking my heart, beautiful."

"You're lucky I'm not breaking anything else," she called back, slipping off into the streets.

His laugh chased after her and Raven didn't bother to hide her faint smile from the empty street.

Back in her hotel room an hour later, Raven wasn't smiling as she stared into the computer bag. The book she'd snagged from the bookshelf was there, but no red ledger.

That sonofabitch.