Remembering the need for oxygen to live, Damian inhaled, the air harsh against his deprived lungs. Feigning unaffectedness, the billionaire's son shifted his weight backwards, tucking a hand in to the pocket of his black slacks, loosening his stance. Still surveying the girl -scratch that, the term girl did her an injustice- through lowered lashes, a rebelliously unruly lock of hair fell over Damian's eyes, not distracting him in the least.

As though it were a masquerade, the ex-assassin donned a fox-like mask. Conniving and sly. All traces of awe wiped from his face, danger glimmered in his devilish eyes, hidden in the taunting curve of his lips and in the blades of his face also known as cheekbones. Meeting the demoness' orbs of amethyst, he raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips lifting a millimetre with it.

In return she gave a smirk of her own, painted lips a striking midnight against her pale skin (now blushed to the bare minimum, adding a fraction of colour to her appearance). To both, it was more than evident the true reaction of the other, yet, for all they were worth, neither could allow themselves to be rendered so emotionally vulnerable at such a time.

Painstakingly difficult though it was, Damian wrenched his gaze away from hers, hand straying to the bubbling glass he'd deigned to inspect beforehand. Glad for the distraction, the Robin raised the glass to his lips, tipping it back with a steady hand- the image of her having not left his mind despite their contact being severed.

Paying no heed to the conversations of the rest of the men and women, Damian's mind found the picture of her once again, igniting a flame within his soul and setting his nerves on end with desire: in the form of something that could be love hidden behind pure lust. A galaxy of stars couldn't dare compare themselves to her eyes, tantalisingly feline, which he knew surveyed him with more than friendly interest. And those lips of hers, still stuck in his mind, tilted in so alluring a fashion, it caused his breathing to almost fall back in to a problematic pattern. What really pushed his limits, however, was the dress. Oh, that mermaid dress, with it's high neckline and tight fit, caressing each line and curve before fanning out slightly, embellished with purple-tinged lace over a black background. By the Gods, the cut outs on either side of her stomach, where light flesh dare to show itself, teasing and testing Damian's resolve, challenging every fibre of his being.

As the lass drop of amber liquid entered Damian's mouth, she began walking forwards. If he'd still been drinking, the billionaire's son would surely have choked; as it were, he covered any shock with a subtle cough, setting the glass down. Straining to regain composure, Damian let out a quivering breath, tugging slightly on his collar.

For, unbeknown to him till then, a large slit ran up the side of her dress, exposing the skin of her leg until mid-thigh.

Raven was going to be the death of him- via heart attack at this rate.

***

Oh, he just had to leave that top -button of his shirt undone, didn't he? And he just had to leave his hair rebelliously mussed. Not to mention having that jacket a little too tight against his torso, complimenting his toned physique.

And the way his piercing gaze found her's from across the ballroom, pinning her with the intensity of a shuriken finding it's target. 

Or maybe she was being ludicrous.

Regardless of her untamed heart thundering in her chest, Raven began her path to the others, platform heels clicking against the floor like the hands of a clock counting away the time- the time until she rejoined the group. The skirts of her dress swishing against her legs, exaggerating the sashaying of her walk.

Falling in to place besides Kori (who donned a lilac number, emphasising her pregnancy rather than seeking to hide it) Raven took the chance to take in the grandeur of the ballroom, mentally snorting at the ridiculous splendour of the crystal chandeliers -of which there were three-, overly waxed wood floors, ceiling-length windows framed by lavish carmine draped like bloodstained lips around white teeth. Around her, Bruce Wayne and his adopted children lingered, conversing with the others: except Jason, who had planned on entering the party as a waiter since Jason Todd was technically dead.

Bella, the little ray of sunshine that she was, had leaped in to her father's arms as soon as she saw him, detailing everything she loved about her dress and everything she didn't like. That girl could truly talk to the end of time.

Lips forming a small smile at the joviality around her, Raven gave in the aching inside her and turned to face Damian, pulling on her lace gloves. The boy in question, who had been 'occupied' inspecting the contents of a different beverage, shot his head in her direction, as though sensing her eyes on him.

A rush of heat flowing through her at the gravity in his look, Raven did the one thing that came to mind. She smiled.

Not a smirk like she'd given before, or a half-arsed lift of the lips; a smile. Flashing her teeth for the barest hint of a second. And that was enough. Returning the gesture, Damian dared to give her one of his own, throwing all notion of caution, regarding what the others thought, to the wind. As if her heart wasn't in enough disarray before, Raven was sure she was on the verge of needing desperate medical attention.

What in Azarath's fallen name was wrong with her? Did wearing a daringly sexy dress in front of this dangerously tempting person suddenly turn her from emotionally stable to a hormonal teenage?

That was of little consequence, however, as Mr Pennyworth entered the ballroom, all formalities in his usual prim manner.

"Ehem. A Miss Kyle."

***

Through the doors stalked a blindingly radiant Selina Kyle, six-inch heels finding their way over to Bruce, the embodiment of feline grace.

The newcomer accepted the shocked greetings of many of the assembled party, with Dick showing particular enthusiasm -equal parts bemused and pleased that Bruce was engaging in some form of human interaction. Bella, upon recognising her 'aunty Selina', threw herself out of her father's arms and towards Miss Kyle.

Greeting the child with open arms, Selina swooped Belladonna off the floor, steep neckline declining further, causing Bruce's Adams-apple to rise and fall as his eyes strayed to her chest.
In the midst of embracing the five-year old, Selina's eyes met Bruce's, catching his staring.

Of course, the billionaire had seen far, far more than a little cleavage, nonetheless is was both endearing and pleasing for Selina to know that he still saw her as something to be desired, something stunning. In a silky, low-cut sheath dress (revealing a generous amount of cleavage and more than half her back) Selina Kyle was nothing if not tempting.And she knew it.

In that provocatively revealing gown, she had the power to control others' perceptions of her- yet she wore it for only herself and one other: Bruce Wayne.

They had managed to keep their relationship a secret until both were ready to show themselves to the world. Now was the time. So far, everyone had take it reasonably well -even the people Selina didn't know, like the pink, curly-haired man and the girl with the gorgeously half-plaited hair. However, she was unable to see the reaction of the main person she was concerned about, Bruce's son, Damian.

Bruce had explained his temperament to Selina, which she accepted could prove an issue; he, however, hadn't so much as uttered a word in her direction, his eyes (an abnormal contrast of shades of green recognisable from where she stood) flicking up to meet Selina's for a moment, utterly monotonous.

A tough cookie.

Resigning herself to conversing with her kind-of-a-little-more-than-boyfriend, Bruce Wayne, who -truth be told- looked absolutely delicious in that black tux.

*****

Damian huffed, brilliant green eyes darting across the now filled ballroom, hunting for something -anything - to occupy his mind: the last fifteen minutes, when people had arrived in bulk, left Damian generally pissed off and begging for the party to be over.

Of those he knew personally (besides the manor residents) there was Clark, Lois, Commissioner Gordon and....no one else- none that he knew beyond being acquainted. And the there was Kyle.

Selina Kyle.

Damian would leave that thought hanging in midair, note fancying delving down that rabbit hole. No, he'd leave that for a later date. Preferably never.

Searching the sea of familiar faces (for he knew who all of them were, they just didn't know him) Damian's vision settled on Clark, Lois and Jonathan lingering by the far drinks table. Conversing like a normal family, all wore smiled in there faces, discussing how tall Jon had gotten- if Damian's lip-reading skills were reliable. They were.

A string being plucked within his heart, the familiar pang of longing issued within Damian's chest. Leaving that thought hanging, Damian brushed it away, resuming his scanning of the expansive room.

Skimming over the familiar faces (Damian knew exactly who each and every one of them was, they just didn't know him) the part-demon let a smirk fall to his lips as he saw Diana Prince in the room, asserting her authority over foreign diplomats and the like: she was Wonderwoman, that title held a great deal of respect, and she, even in a casual setting, liked to see the judgemental people around her squirm as she reminded them of that.

Smirk falling, Damian's eyes flicked over the scenario yet again, a heavily sighing.

"You are doing that an awful lot."

Giving the owner of the voice his full attention, yet not moving his eyes from the masses, Damian replied, "Do I now? Would you chance a guess at the reason, Raven?"

Now he turned to her, an eyebrow raised, managing a level pacing of his heart. The demoness glanced at the party before them, a distasteful expression befalling her face. And despite the grimace, Damian had never seen a more radiant being in his life.

"It's not all that enjoyable, being asked question after question and than standing tediously about.", Rave commented leaning her head upwards to speak collider to his ear (the music and chatter, though quiet, was not quiet enough to conceal their conversation entirely), "Could you possibly be bored?"

Teasing, Damian smirked, "Why, me? Bored? Surely not?!"

Raven shook her head, chuckling at his sheer stupidity.

Inclining her head towards his once more, Raven noted, "Over there, look at Jonathan.", her voice considerably sweeter, the demoness added, "He's talking to Donna."

She pointed in the direction she was looking, guiding Damian's gaze to where Lois and Clark had left their son to speak with Donna as they spoke with Diana.

And that is how Damian and Raven managed to pass the next ten minutes without boredom: commenting on Donna and Jonathan's interaction.

"Look, she's laughing. That's a good sign.", Raven said between sips of the amber liquid- some expensive cordial,

"Well would you look at that.", Damian agreed, awe seeping in to his voice, lips upturned.

It truly was a sight to behold: the two youngest Titans, in all their youthful finery, exchanging a lighthearted laugh- Donna giggling behind her hands and Jon laughing with a hand behind his head.

"It's adorable, no? These two need to hurry up!"

Both part demons turned to form a triangle with the one who'd just spoken, having not at all been caught off-guard by the voice.

Jaime, the speaker, grinned at Damian and Raven, fiddling with his grey bow tie. After a few minutes of idle conversation, during which the Latino continued to pull at his jacket sleeves and bow tie, it was safe to say, the Bluebeetle was unaccustomed to wearing tuxedos.

The conversation soon returned to the budding romance of the youngest Titans, who were still talking with frequent red-faces breaking out.

Damian, regarding Jonathan and Donna, sighed, "We have to do something to help those two on."

***

Hands intertwined, Koriand'r and Dick beamed at Diana, Clark, Bruce, Selina and Lois, all of whom conversed on the topic of Dick and Kori's future. Draped in imperial red with gold embellishments, Wonderwoman enthused about the future of the two, wondering about plans for the wedding date, if they would move out etc.

As the miniature orchestra (in the left corner by the double doors) altered the mood of the room entirely with mellow, romantic tones, the three titans -Damian, Raven and Jaime-joined their group. Despite the part-demon's usual unresponsive manners, easy conversation flowed through them all, aided by the light atmosphere of the ballroom.

"Well, is anyone going to dance tonight?", Selina proposed, a hand resting on her hip- which Bruce's eyes betrayed him to linger on.

Casting her eyes upon the centre of the hall, Raven recognised the space that had been made for swaying couples to decorate with their lavish fabrics, accessories and manners. Counting at least seventeen pairs with varying levels of competence in dance, an idea whizzed in to billionaire's son's mind, one so brilliant he turned to Jaime and Raven (who stood on either side of him) with a borderline malicious smile.

Having often witnessed this particular look, Raven could only order, donning a similar visage, "Spill."

Sending the congregated individuals an uncharacteristically polite 'excuse me', Damian exited the small circle, drawing Jaime and Raven away with him.

"What is it?!", Jaime frowned, looking over his shoulder to ensure that he didn't numb in to any people.

"Listen..."

***

They had done it.

Jonathan and Donna were in the dance floor, looking he epitome of awkward. Even more awkward then if someone were to call there teacher 'mum' or walk in on their parents having sex...maybe not that awkward, but it's a fairly clear picture.

Naturally, Diana, Clark, Bruce, Selina, Dick, Kori, Damian, Raven and Jaime were all staring as they bumbled their way through a basic waltz. Damian couldn't help but note the poor posture and arm placement in their dance and the sheer lack of decorum from both Jon and Donna.

Between nearly closed lips, Selina mumbled, "Someone's got to sort this."

An idea sparking like kindling in Koriand'r's mind, the Tamarinian suggested- or rather, ordered, "Damian, Raven, you go!"

Before either of them had the opportunity to splutter objections, the idea had warmed enough in Diana's heart and, acting upon compulsion, the Amazonian (after checking that the few meters ahead were clear of people) placed hand on both part demons. Exercising her Amazon strength, Diana shoved both of them forwards, propelling them towards the dance floor.

In the last moment before they were to fall and hit the floor, Damian and Raven righted themselves. With the fluidity of an age-old river flowing through uninterrupted land, the two had snapped in to position in the final, heart-stopping second.

Damian's arms supporting her back were the only things keeping her off the ground. Raven's arms hooked around his neck and lean shoulders, pulling their torsos closer. Almost parallel to the floor, the skirts of Raven's dress slipped to the side, revealing a little to much leg for her to be comfortable with.

Heart hammering at the proximity, the two shared a deep pause, tension igniting within seconds.

From where the others stood, Jaime let out a low whistle as the others stared appreciative looks at Damian and Raven's sheer elegance.

"Oooh...damn.."

"Impressive.", Diana said, eyes twinkling.

A.N:

I'm not going to say anything more.

-Bats :3