Legalities: I do not own or own rights to the Teen Titans

To Save Gotham

He missed Jump City.

He missed the streets, he missed the Tower, he missed his team, but mostly he missed that being in Jump meant that he didn't have to attend stuffy galas and charity events eavesdropping on conversations to glean information to help his mentor. He knew that whatever information he was being asked to uncover had to be important to have Batman call him back from Jump, and for a whole week, but his listening in to conversations as guests milled about in their party best had yielded nothing except a massive headache.

He had been tasked to listen in on the rich of Gotham to see if he could glean anything that was going on that was amiss. Whatever was going on had huge funding and Batman had already crossed off every crime syndicate leader in the city. That left someone wealthy and prominent and that meant that Robin had to play Bruce's charming ward to hear anything that might give them a lead. But he had heard nothing of consequence and frustration was getting to him.

He reached out as a waiter passed and grabbed a glass of champagne, draining half the glass and be damned the "stay alert and don't drink more than necessary to blend in" speech that Bruce had given him.

Robin had been so tense and restless since arriving last week. He had wanted to patrol with Batman but he had refused to allow him to do so. He had said something was going on, something sinister that was brewing in the city. It had grown unpredictable with the current tension and he didn't want Robin put in harm's way unnecessarily. Especially if he couldn't figure out what was going on in Gotham, the last thing Batman wanted was for this to follow Robin to Jump when he returned. It was better if Gotham's underbelly didn't know Robin was back in yet.

And so Robin had been confined to his civilian persona, Batman had even taken his communicator, and had thus been stuck in the manor most of the time; his very own gilded prison. And he hated very little more than he hated being confined and having a mystery that he hadn't solved.

But tonight, like all the other events he had been forced to attend this last week, had proven a bust so far and he could only pretend to feign interest in what Gotham's rich elite had to say for so long. He had limits. He downed the rest of his glass and handed off the empty flute to another passing waiter.

He felt a light tap on his shoulder from behind and a low voice ask him for a dance. He closed his eyes to avoid rolling them to the ceiling and took a breath before turning around to politely decline yet another ditsy socialite. He opened his mouth, but that's as far as he got before he froze.

The woman before him stood with her head slightly cocked and a bemused look on her face. Her black hair tumbled down the pale skin exposed by a black, backless dress. Deep blue eyes twinkled up at him with mirth as she smiled in amusement at his shock. She was simply pale instead of ashen grey, and her eyes were a deep, dark, sapphire blue instead of amethyst, but he knew her face like he knew his own. He felt the bond in the back of his mind as he reached out to lay a hand on her bare shoulder.

"Raven?" He said in shock.

She looked around in panic for a second before assessing that no one was near enough to hear what he had called her.

"Rachel," she said sternly, giving him a meaningful look. "Rachel Evans."

He collected himself quickly and grabbed her hand, raising it to his lips and laying a gentlemanly kiss to it.

"Pleasure to meet you, Rachel."

"Care to dance?" she asked, not releasing his hand and leading him by it to the dance floor.

Robin looked at her in confusion, for both her strange demeanor and for her presence there at all. He allowed her to take him to the dance floor and obligingly laid a hand on her waist to lead. She leaned closer to him, shocking Robin with her closeness, before laying her head on his shoulder.

"One is free to whisper in the ear of a dance partner without drawing suspicion, Robin," she whispered. "People tend to believe in what they are familiar with and these people are far more accustomed to two people whispering sweet nothings than plotting the defense of Gotham."

He smiled, impressed at her tactics, brushing the hair off her shoulder as he leaned in to whisper to her to tell her so. She blushed at his praise.

"Sorry to drop in on you like this," she said. "I didn't know any other way to contact you. Your communicator has been off."

"What are you doing here . . . Rachel?" he asked softly.

She sighed into his shoulder.

"A lot has gone on in the week you've been gone. I've been having . . . dreams. Visions? I'm not honestly sure. But I could see Azarath, as it is now, ruins and wreckage. But I kept seeing it, in my dreams and meditations, and I started seeing it in my waking hours too. As much as I didn't want to, as much as I would rather do pretty much anything but, I had to go. I had no other choice."

Robin pulled back, keeping their rhythm and step, looking at her in a concerned way. Anything could have happened to her there and she had taken a risk going. And he hadn't known because he was here pretending to have a life in common with the upper crust of Gotham. All because Batman had taken his communicator and told him to go dark, break contact while he was here. He cursed his mission here for what felt like the hundredth time.

"I'm fine," she assured him, laying her head back on his shoulder. "There was no one there when I got there. Everything seemed as I remembered it, but as I went back into the ritual rooms of the temple I found relics missing that I know had been there the last time I was in those rooms. Relics, and dangerous spellbooks just . . . nowhere to be found when they had once been so carefully placed, so meticulously organized.

"But then I found something that shouldn't have been there," she continued, "something laying on the altar of the sanctuary. Who knows why he left it, but who knows why he does anything, really?"

"What was it?"

"A playing card. And I'll bet you know exactly which one."

A chill ran through Robin as he realized what she was saying. The Joker had found a way to Azarath and had stolen relics. And spellbooks. Those things in anyone's hands were dangerous, but in the hands of the Joker there was simply no guessing what his plans or motives were.

"First you were called back to Gotham," she said, "then the dreams of Azarath resulting in a connection with the Joker, and then I could feel the unease and the tension you were feeling through our bond and I couldn't reach you. There was too much connected and I had to come to Gotham to find out what was going on. I'm in over my depth here, Robin. I needed you to help me figure it out. You always figure these things out."

Robin felt a surge of pride at her confidence in him and his mind was running a mile a minute trying to make connections and come up with a plan.

"There's been something going on here in Gotham," he whispered, before spinning her and pulling her back into his arms. "Batman's been trying to figure out what it is, but it's big. It's why he brought me back. It would be a lot to put on coincidence to say that these things aren't related at least in some way."

He pulled back to look at her once more as he took more time to think.

"How is it that you look the way you do?" he asked, the question springing to his mind.

She smiled and leaned by his ear once more.

"I found a ring in Azarath," She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers, acting every bit the little rich girl giggling and showing off her latest piece of jewelry. Robin almost laughed at the act, but caught himself. "The ring contained a spell strong enough to suppress my powers and alter my appearance for at least a few days. I brought it along in case I needed it here in an unfamiliar city. I won't accidentally blow anything up if my emotions get out of hand and I won't be so recognizable."

Robin studied the intricate silver ring on her middle finger as she lay her hand in his as they danced. There were tiny runes etched into them that were unfamiliar to him from anything he'd seen before.

"I also brought back the only spellbook that has a chance of negating the spells in the books that were stolen. It was well hidden, and thankfully something that the Joker hadn't been able to find. I came here to find you, but also determined to find Batman and enlist his help.

"When I got to Gotham I felt you through the bond and your agitation made it rather easy to use it to find you. It was like a beacon. It led me to Wayne Manor and, after several days of observing the place and not seeing you leave I had to deduce that you were staying there, not just visiting.

"I called on the manor, wearing the ring in case my powers should lash out and give me away. I assumed Rachel's identity to confirm what I had grown to suspect over the past few days: that Bruce Wayne was Batman. He greeted me and I could feel it, sense it out, the moment he touched my hand. Which meant that you were Dick Grayson."

Robin studied her face for a moment before nodding. He trusted her more than he trusted most people and he saw no reason to lie to her.

"Bruce was keeping me off the streets until he figured out what was going on. He brought me in to help him gather information but I was going crazy not being able to get out on the streets and do something about it."

She nodded, understanding how he felt.

"So I took the identity of the Evans' daughter Rachel who, I'm pretty sure, is gallivanting off in Europe while her parents are away in the Caribbean. We are of similar appearance, and I believed I could pass for her."

"Bold," he murmured. "You act like you've done this before."

She let out a laugh and then laid her head back on his shoulder and continued on as if she hadn't been interrupted, not answering his speculation.

"Bruce seemed to think nothing amiss when I called at the manor but I had no reason to ask for you, or to even know you were there, really, and before I could tell him who I really was and why I was there I saw them. The relics, the stolen ones. They were all over the entryway and the sitting room that I was taken to. I asked about them, feigning an interest in art and he told me that they had all come from a collection gifted to him from a business associate: Lex Luthor. I had a realization and I knew that I couldn't tell him who I was. He told me that he hoped to see me at the gala tonight, and so here I am."

Robin was about to ask her what she realized and why she couldn't reveal herself to Bruce, when he noticed Bruce eyeing him from an upper balcony. He was obviously observant of all the whispering that the girl in Robin's arms was doing and he was trying to puzzle out what was going on. Robin put on a blushing smile, burying his face in her hair for a moment and hoping that Bruce would assume she was whispering of all the things she hoped they would do later that night. He pulled back enough to get Raven to lift her head and he kissed her soundly, their dancing coming to a halt as he pulled her closer to him.

He could feel her stiffness for a moment before she went along with the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself close. Robin wasn't sure if she was losing herself in the sensation or if she was a better actress than he had ever imagined. Either way he wasn't complaining.

From the corner of his eye Robin could see Bruce look down and chuckle before turning his attention to the rest of the party, seeking out his next target for information.

Robin pulled away from Raven and she looked up at him in confusion, but there was no accusation or anger on her face. They resumed dancing and he whispered to her.

"Bruce was getting suspicious at all the secretive conversation."

She nodded against his shoulder, but she could feel through their bond that he was, surprisingly, as affected by their kiss as she was. She hadn't made the decision to kiss him back, that had been a reaction and it was one she didn't understand.

"What was your realization, Rachel? The one that kept you from revealing yourself?"

"He can't fight what's happening in Gotham . . . Dick," she said, his real name still unfamiliar on her lips, "and he won't stay out of the fight willingly. The relics stolen from Azarath, the ones now in Wayne Manor, the ones gifted by Lex Luthor, mean that Bruce is now bound to the spells in the book. Whatever catastrophic spell the Joker, and what are likely associates now, plan to weave is now tied with Bruce and his life will be forfeit if he tries to interfere with it."

"So what do we do?"

She looked up at him, a fire and something that could only be described as mischief dancing in her eyes.

"I can feel how discontented and uneasy you've been not being able to do anything about what was going on. But now it's on us and we can't let Batman get hurt by involving himself. Whether we involve anyone else is your call, but it's up to us now. Are you ready to help me save Gotham?"

He smiled a wicked smile back at her and pulled her suddenly to him, drawing her into another kiss, this one completely unprompted by the need to deceive Bruce. She gave in to it again, not sure what the meaning behind it was, but she felt his contentedness in their bond and she succumbed to the peace of it. She reveled in the moment, able to feel it without fearing her powers wreaking havoc and part of her didn't want it to end.

He finally pulled away from her, both of them breathing hard and blushing as they looked at each other.

"What was that for?" she breathed, trying to decipher his emotions and finding too many coming from him to sort out.

"That was because tonight is finally not about doing what Bruce wants, and all about doing what I want."

She blushed at the implication and looked away, composing herself. He laid a finger under her chin and turned her face back toward his, smiling a devilish smile at her.

"Let's go save Gotham."