"Right," Raven tapped the froth-fringed spoon on her saucer, "tell me about the Titans." She sipped on the coffee, staring at the man over it.

Damian huffed and ran a hand through his hair. He shrugged, "What would you like to know?"

She set the large glass down on the saucer and said, "What is there to tell? Oh come on, I want to know the juicy gossip-"

"Juicy gossip?" Damian repeated.

Throwing her hands up, Raven groaned, "Come on, I haven't been in the team for years! Who's still there? Interesting cases? Renovations to the Tower! I dont know!"

A laugh dissolving from his face, Damian rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, "I haven't been back in a while. Miss Kori is still there, of course. Jaime- Bluebeetle- too. I think he was there in your time..."

She nodded, drifting in to reminiscence.

"Beastboy left a few months ago. Staying in Star City for education, I think. Cyborg had a sojourn at the Tower, I believe...he left a while back. Wondergirl is still there..." he cleared his threat and looked up. "But the new members make a strong team. Room for improvement of course, but it's an effective unit." He frowned. "A strong team..."

Contemplative, Raven circled a finger absently around the rim of her glass. She looked up at him and said nothing.

"What are you thinking about?" Damian asked.

Raven lifted her glass but stopped it before her lips. She blew lightly over the froth and it made a well for the creamy coffee underneath. Damian watched her, knitting his fingers between his knees.

"I miss it." She sighed. "It's been years since I've seen Kori. She was like a mother to me-" more vulnerable than he'd seen her before, the empath continued, "it was a family. After coming to Earth, alone, barely speaking any English, not in control of my powers...the Titans became my home. And now...well...That was all I had, and now none of it's in my life anymore! Not the overbearing mother-hen, the shitty villain-nemeses-"

"The stupid building?" Damian joked. "It's been said before that branding can go too far, but a Titans Tower in the shape of a 'T'. TT. That's a step too far."
He held his hands up.

Raven laughed, "Oh Azar yes...who in Beelzebub's name was the architect behind that?"

"A blind one probably." He took a sip of  coffee. "Or Koriand'r."

"Don't be mean Damian." Raven mock chastised. "Kori's taste..."

"-Should be illegal under international law. TT. I can't count the number of 'meals' that sent me to the sick bed."

Raven snickered alongside him. She knew exactly what he meant. Her stomach was traumatised by Kori's "recipes". Wary of the few other people in the café, Raven stifled her mirth with a sip of coffee. Shifting in his chair, Damian sobered a little, a subconscious smile resting on his face.

"But you know," Raven pointed out, "we could have met back then. In the Teen Titans."

Damian eyes became round as coins and he shook his head animatedly.

"Oh gods no...Never!" He buried his head in his hands. "I was a nightmare."

"I'm sure you weren't that bad... regardless of what Dick used to tell us..."

Damian looked up, an eyebrow raised, "'What Dick used to tell you'...?"

There was a glint in his eye that the empath had seen before, in various pairs of eyes (and once, in a cyclops' singular eye); a seething fury reserved only for siblings. Poised to pounce, Damian entreated the woman (red skinned, fishnet stocking-ed, bubbling with humour), "Would you mind elaborating on that?"

She cleared her throat and selected the juiciest tale to start...

The third story in, Damian cut her off, "Okay okay- I don't think I can stomach any more."

His ears were red. He was going to kill Dick, if the embarrassment of those damn stories didn't kill him first.

Sides splitting, Raven chortled, "I mean- 'use protection this time'? Seriously?"

Deadpan, Damian stared at her, childhood trauma scrawled across his face, "You have no idea how promiscuous that man is."

That brought a sly cast of scepticism over the cambion's face. Across from her, Damian observed the change with a poorly played-off gulp.

"And that isn't hypocrisy?" Raven raised an eyebrow. "Considering we had sex after, what, meeting each other twice?"

A silver-haired lady two tables behind them cleared her throat, shooting them a red-faced glance or two.

Damian bit the inside of his cheek, head bowed. He tilted his head "Fair point..." then looked up at her, "any regrets?"

She crossed her arms. Pursing her lips as if in thought, Raven hummed.
He rolled his eyes. He hated theatrics- but they were okay if it was Raven. By the gods, he reckoned anything would be okay if Raven did it. Staring up at that creature, who certainly would have been an angel if she hadn't been begotten by the devil, he thought that if she ran him over, he might've thanked her.

That was a stupid thought. But after he'd thought it, there was no taking it back.

"None." She said. Then changed her mind. She had seen his lips again, for the millionth time. And like each time, it hit her like a million bolts. And like each time, she'd remembered the heat, the sizzling heat, and the softness, like they were made for resting hers against. And like each time... "except until now..."

"Oh?"

"I regret all my words. That I said them when I could have been kissing you."

And those words were so tender, as they left her lips, that Damian couldn't but reach a hand out to her chin and bring her mouth to his, that she regret no more; not, at least, for the next few seconds. She tasted like coffee. Damian drank that bitter, sweet flavour in, soaking up the softness of her lips.

The old woman behind them sipped pointedly from her cup, trying not to stare (and failing miserably).

Then Raven broke free of his lips, and hated herself for it. With his eyes directly before hers, his aura a flurry that escaped her understanding, Raven sighed. They could walk the road of temptation- bite the apple again. But having known physical intimacy, this new kind, a spiritual intimacy, was so much sweeter.

She touched his cheek and he shivered.

"You're beautiful." She said. And by the heavens was he.

Damian laughed abashedly, turning his head from her hand, "You took the words from my mind and turned them against me."

"Don't try to be slick to hide that you're blushing." Raven narrowed her eyes playfully.

Damian drew himself back, as if offended. He answered in a high tone, "I am doing no such thing." But his pink ears said otherwise.

Raven hummed her disbelief, raising her eyebrows, "Suuuuure."

Then she set play to the side and rested her chin on folded hands, her elbows on the little coffee table between them. Raven tilted her head, considering the man in front of her. Even in recovery from a state of fluster, he was so poised. It was in the aura; it was in the posture; it was in his eyes, even. Damian, she realised, didn't move in the fidgety ways that people usually did. When she'd first seen him, there was something -she couldn't quite figure out what- that had made her uneasy next to him. He was too still. That stillness now was a comfort.

Knowing some of his past, she understood it probably was rooted in self-control. That training to be unflinching now was habit, she supposed.

That word, 'training', cracked it. She rued that she'd ever gone down that thought path, but once it started, she couldn't stop it.

"You're quiet. What are you thinking about?" He frowned.

She shrugged. The nonchalance failed. Raven cleared her throat. The misty romance had dissipated.

Raven looked up from the brown froth at the bottom of her cup, a dent between her eyebrows.

Damian looked down to the table; the same emptiness sat before him.

"We should order again." Raven said.

"Maybe."

Damian raised his gaze and Raven's eyes were already waiting for his.

"Have you contacted Lady Shiva?" She asked.

"Why."

"I'm sure she'll be worried."

"Shiva doesn't worry, least of all for me-"

"I'm an empath. That's not true."

"-but I sent her a message." Damian confessed.

She heard the sigh in his voice, and it made her sad.

Eyes downcast, Raven stumbled upon the thing she'd first pushed to the back of her mind- the thing she'd forgotten about. Damian's web of sweet-somethings and soft kisses had let it escape her, even as it sat on the table before them.

"So," she ran a hand through her hair and let it drop defeatedly to her lap, "do we open the file now?"

She didn't know what answer to hope for. She didn't want to work, she wanted to kiss the lids of those green, green eyes and drown all his thoughts in the skin of a red demon. Then again, Lucifer was waiting. And those contracts were a ticking time bomb with Damian's name on it, scrawled in blood by Trigon.

The man shot the Manila folder a scalding glare. Why did he bring that damn thing with him?

Glancing at the woman before him, the crimson-skinned demon, he remembered exactly why.

"I suppose we must." He recognised.

Her face winced despairingly, and he couldn't leave it like that.

In a peace offering, a token of his sympathy, Damian offered, "I'll get us another round of drinks. What would you like?" With a smile so charming, she couldn't but answer with one of her own.

A.N:

It is just over a month since I last updated and I can only apologise.

I took an unannounced break from writing. I'm really sorry. I did need this time for me, to recuperate, to deal with the shit I've got going on. With the way a lot of things in my life are going, I can't promise you very regular updates, but it will not be as long a time between chapters as this (so every week/few weeks but never more than a month). I am truly sorry. I feel like I've let you down, like I've let myself down. But I am going to do better <3

I hope you enjoyed this chapter- just a bit of fluff (as promised!).
Stay tuned for more!!

-Bats