A/N: So…six years later…eheh….yeah. There are the usual excuses, work, life. But more than those being reasons why I don't have time to write, the reality is that they are reasons why my muse has left me. I think he got bored with the boring realities of life and decided to go off for greener pastures. Every so often, I come back and read stuff I've written, and I miss writing, I really do, but I'm not being bombarded by inspiration the way I used to be, so…that's why you're not getting updates or new stuff. I still like writing, I definitely want to finish the stories I've started on here (especially considering that almost every day I get one or two either reviews or notifications that someone has found my work and favorites it), but I just don't have the ready fount of inspiration that I used to. I am not saying that I am giving up on writing fanfic, just the opposite. I hope this note serves to let you guys know that I have NOT forgotten about these stories and that I do intend to finish them. Just…dunno when. Sorry.

About this story, I can tell you that I feel that this story is very near the end. I make no promises about whether or when I will get inspired to write any of the remaining chapters, but yeah.

XII: Flame

"Girl, girl, girl, girl / You gonna set me on fire/ My brain is flaming /I don't know which way to go…"
- Elvis Presley, "Burning Love"

"Isn't that just like a woman?"

Robin whirled on the voice, coming from the mouth of the alley they had been standing just beyond and came face to face with Red-X in all his costumed glory. Robin clenched his fist and took a step forward, but with a press of the middle of his belt, X was gone.

Robin knew X couldn't be done taunting him yet, so he waited, poised to strike.

"They get you all riled up and then make like it's entirely your own fault."

Robin threw one of the birdarangs he always carried with him behind him without turning to see his target. He heard it as it clanged off the metal of the lowered alley ladder.

"That's was a pretty good shot," X said, from a few inches to the left of where Robin had thrown the weapon. "If I weren't such a bad ass with the reflexes, you might just have hit something vital."

Robin didn't give him the satisfaction of turning around to look at him, but realized that randomly throwing weapons at him wasn't the best way to go about this confrontation. Robin pushed back the hair that had fallen over his forehead, but still didn't turn around. "You must realize that just catching you in that suit is enough for me to bring you in," he said calmly.

"Oh, I know," X said pleasantly. "But the catching me part...that's the real key, innit, gov'ner?" he tacked on the accent at the end, laughter clear in his voice.

"You know," Robin turned, and had the satisfaction of watching X tense for quick response out of the corner of his eye. It helped him to smile when he actually laid eyes on the thief. "Whatever your reasons may be for starting this," he leaned back against the brick wall and crossed his arms, "whether you find yourself sincerely drawn to her, or whether you're playing some game you think is fun," Robin paused and shook his head, "You really have no idea the trouble you've gotten yourself into, do you?" he asked with a little laugh.

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" X asked, the amusement clear, even despite the voice changer.

Robin just shook his head and pushed away from the wall, realizing with all the force of an epiphany that he was done with this conversation. "No, actually," he answered sincerely, pushing his hair back and wiping the still falling rain off his face.

"Oh, I suppose you're warning me, then?" X challenged.

Robin looked up at the masked villain smiled. "Not at all."

X leaned back against the grate of the fire escape and cocked his head to the side. "Oooh, man of mystery, that's you," X mocked. "You're not trying to warn me off, you're not trying to threaten me, you're just…what? Giving me some tips out of the goodness of your heart?" he asked.

Robin thought about it for a moment, then chuckled. "Nope," he answered, his smile broadening every moment. He looked right at where X's eyes would be behind the mask and shook his head, shrugging. "Give it your best shot," he challenged, turning to walk away.

X cocked his head, clearly surprised. "So, you're giving up?" he asked.

Robin turned, still smiling. "Not a chance," he admitted. "I just figured out the right way to fight." Offering up a jaunty wave, Robin turned on his heel and walked casually back to his bike.

It was still raining by the time Robin made it back to the Tower, so that by the time he walked up into the main building from the garage where he'd left his bike, he was leaving a trail of water in his wake and squeezing what seemed like torrents from his t-shirt. Pushing his hair back from off his face only succeeded in making the water pour down his back instead of across his face. Understandably, his first stop inside the Tower was the laundry room for a towel (or five) to dry off some before creating a flood in the residence wing.

It would not be the first time he and Raven thought alike, so it was not really a surprise to find the dark empath standing in the middle of the tile floor with one towel wrapped around her body (over her drenched clothes), one over her shoulders and one vigorously rubbing at her hair. Their eyes met as soon as he walked in the room, but she did not pause in her drying. She merely turned so that she was facing the wall of washers and dryers, effectively giving her back to him.

"I thought you would've been home awhile ago," he tried as he stepped into the room and walked to the wall opposite her where the cabinets with the fresh towels were. He grabbed two, dropping one on the floor at his feet while he kicked off his boots and applied the other one to his face and arms, and the back of his neck.

"No," she said curtly.

He thought about it for a moment, and realization dawned. "You were too pissed to use your powers."

"Give the boy a prize," she said flatly, moving to the corner where the hampers were and dropping the soaked towel she'd been using for her hair into it. He watched her and was amazed at how even after her energetic drying, her hair appeared only slightly disheveled. She slipped the towel from around her shoulders next and started patting down the rest of herself then.

He knew he only had a few moments before she was done and walking away. He knew nothing but the blunt, frank truth would do at this point, and before he had even decided to, he was talking. "I was jealous," he said plainly.

She stopped moving, but didn't turn around.

"Actually," he amended, "I am jealous," he took a step toward her.

"That's a form of mistrust too, you know," she said after a moment, her tone even. She still hadn't turned to face him.

"You're right," he agreed. "It took me until a little while ago to realize that – and I was confused until I did, because I know that I trust you, but I still felt jealous, and it didn't make sense…" he trailed off. "It didn't make sense to me, because you told me you weren't interested in him that way and I believed you, because I knew you wouldn't lie to me about that, but I was still jealous," he tried to keep his tone even, but he couldn't help feeling he was rushing his words, as if afraid that if he didn't get them out, either she'd stop him or leave or he'd stop himself. "And it finally dawned on me that I wasn't jealous because I was worried about you being with him."

She did turn then, and her expression was guarded, but expectant and curious. "Then why?" she asked.

He took another step toward her, twisting the towel a bit in his hands. "I was jealous that he could say those things to you," he laughed a little as he admitted it, realizing how stupid it sounded, but also how truthful. "Here he was, this criminal, saying all these things to you openly and bringing you presents, and…" he shook his head and tossed the towel in a ball so that it sailed over her head and swooshed into the laundry basket behind her. He shrugged and looked at her helplessly.

Her expression didn't change. "You…what?" she prompted.

"I was too afraid of the cost," he decided.

It took her a moment, but he saw it when understanding crossed her expression. "You thought I'd bolt," she said aloud.

He exhaled. "I was afraid you'd bolt," he agreed. "Or, stay but close yourself off again, which was just as good as," he said.

She nodded, slowly. "I understand," she said. "I suppose my track record speaks for itself," she mused, turning back to toss her towel into the hamper.

Her calm acceptance wasn't quite the reaction he'd been expecting. He didn't know exactly what he'd been expecting, but he thought it might have a lot more to do with him asking for forgiveness and doing much more explanation. He wasn't exactly surprised that she didn't need all that, though. Although, if he was honest with himself, he did feel it was a bit anticlimactic, really. So, he decided to explain anyway. "Rae," he called her attention back to him. When she looked at him, he tried to read her expression. "I like what we have," he told her. "I don't want to lose that," he said meaningfully. "I didn't realize how the way I was acting was affecting you and what we had, so I'm sorry."

She frowned, just a slight creasing of her brow and a pursing of her lips. "You're sorry?"

He nodded, trying to read her, but her expression telling of nothing but slight confusion.

"But you trust me?" she asked.

"I do," he answered, sincerely.

"And you're fine with Red-X flirting with me, now?" she asked.

He started to answer in the affirmative, but couldn't. He frowned and thought about it for a moment. "No," he answered. "I'm actually not fine with it," he said, tasting the truth of the words as they left his mouth. "I'm extremely not fine with it, actually," he admitted. At her raised brows, he couldn't help but sort of smile. "But I trust you, so I'll deal with it."

He watched as she processed his words. With a quick flick of her wrist, she undid the towel from around her revealing a slightly less drenched outfit and dropped the towel in the hamper behind her. "So," she said, turning back to him. "Let me get this straight," she met his eyes. "What you're saying is that you were jealous of the fact that X was free to flirt with me, and that I did not appear to mind in that I was not bolting or becoming withdrawn again," she surmised. "But you trust me when I say that I'm not interested in him in a romantic type way," she continued, taking a step into the distance between them. "So, although you are still bothered by the fact that he will continue to flirt with me," she took another step closer to him. "you will deal with it and let me complete this matter as I see fit?"

He wasn't sure what to make of the look on her face, or the slight inflection to her tone. Was it amusement, he wondered? When she was obviously waiting for him to confirm her statement of the facts as he'd laid them out, he nodded slowly. "Yes," he answered. "That's right."

"Ok, good," she nodded, and she did smile at him then, only it was almost a smirk. "There's only one thing wrong with that whole scenario that I can see, Robin," she decided.

It was his turn to frown. "Wrong?" he asked, and part of him was worried this was the part where she would tell him he could keep his feelings to his own damn self from here on out. "What?" he asked.

"That this here," she motioned the dwindling space between them and their surroundings. "This would have been the moment to say those things you were jealous because you couldn't say," she said, and there was definitely amusement in her tone then, but he was too surprised in that moment and by the time he actually realized she had said what he thought she'd said, she'd already walked passed him, out of the laundry room and was halfway to her room.

Robin had never thought of himself as having bad timing before, but in that moment, he could've kicked himself. Instead, he sighed and dripped quietly on the floor.