The Devil's Daughter (Damirae)

Chapter 11

Raven's Journal:

Damian is insane. Very kind, yet insane.

After I tried on the dress, he said I looked "absolutely divine" which was admittedly a minor confidence booster.

Then he decided he wanted to buy it.

"Damian, that's stupid. There are hundreds of dresses here. Let's just buy any that don't cost as much as a car."

He shook his head. "Raven, we have to play the part of a rich couple coming in to look at art. Admittedly we are teenagers, so there is some leeway, but still, we have to look the part. Besides, knowing my father, he'll get you into another role like this, and you'll use the dress again."

I sighed. "You're not going to give up, are you?"

"It would be blasphemous of me to do something that adversely affects a mission knowing that a different course of action was better."

Damn. I could no more refute what he said then I could tolerate his way-too-formal way of speaking.

So here we were, two teenagers, one in jeans and a hoodie, one dressed like a goth, about to buy an eight thousand dollar dress so that we could look like rich people. Which would undoubtedly be the strangest sentence I have ever written if my father wasn't a demon and the guy I liked wasn't...

Wait... shit... I didn't mean to write that. We are professional. We are teammates. We are friends. Good friends. Nothing more.

Damian bought the dress and we went to a tailor to get him fitted for a suit. It took a few hours for the suit to be made, so we hung around the mall. 

We ate, looked at clothes (Damian can apparently tell the measurements of clothing from a quick look, and can tell if something fits me in less than a second) and even went into an arcade.

Damian couldn't figure out the "purpose of this vexatious exercise in futility" but as soon as I got him to play, he beat every single high score. It is really annoying just how good he is at some things. It was actually fun to watch. He always wrote SOB as his high score, which I have no doubt is "Son Of Batman."

When there was nothing left to do, we ended up climbing onto the roof (by that I of course mean he climbed and I teleported). We ended up sitting on the edge and began to talk.

"You know, if I offered something that expensive to Logan, he would take it without a second thought."

"It isn't my money, Damian. And I'm not Gar."

"True. But it was a gift, Raven. And besides..." his voice trailed off.

"What is it?"

He took a deep breath. "Raven, since I've gotten here- since I was born, really- I've never met anyone who could see me for who I am as well as you can. I know the dress isn't much but..."

He paused. In this moment I noticed that we had moved closer together, and I felt a little bit awkward about it. But I shoved that feeling aside. I turned to look at the sky. The sun seemed to melt into the evening sky and stretch the colors across it.

"...but I have to repay you, in some way. Somehow. For everything you've done for me, I have to repay you."

I now looked in his eyes, seeing a sincerity in his eyes I had never seen before. And a passion that I had seen on the day he killed Ra's. (although he was wearing a mask I could still see it)

"Damian, you don't have to repay anything. You have been here for me as well. I could never have asked anyone to care for me. I enjoy the time I spend with you, and I wouldn't trade it for the world."

He looked at me with a smile on his face. Not a smirk or a grin, as I've grown accustomed to from him, but an actual, true smile. I smiled back.Then he turned his head away, embarrassed.

"Raven, I..."

It was then when the tailor called to tell us that the suit was ready.

People have the worst timing.

Damian's Journal:

After we got the suit and went home, I decided I had to talk to someone. I had procrastinated long enough.

Raven went to hang up her suit and meditate. I went to go talk to Grayson.

See, when I talked to Pennyworth about the feeling I felt for Raven, he told me to ask "Master Dick" what that feeling was, as he could explain it better. He did at least let me know It wasn't a sickness, which was a relief. But he was useless in helping me find out what the feeling was.

He and Kori were close together, in one another's embrace, in the control room. I rolled my eyes.

"Grayson, I need to speak to you."

"Go ahead."

I looked at Kori and cleared my throat. She took the memo.

"I'll go off to bed now. Come down when you're done here?"

"Sure babe." Then he kissed her and she walked away, trying and failed to hide a bottle under her arm.

"Grayson, why is she bringing champagne to be..." I started.

"Aaaaaanyway," Grayson interrupted. "What do you wanna talk about?"

"I've had this feeling for a little while. Pennyworth said you knew a lot about it. Figured I'd ask you about it."

I told him about my feelings. This was new to me, but I had to do it so that I could get his help in getting over them. He asked a lot of questions, some quite personal, but I answered regardless. Needless to say, his grin got bigger every time I answered a question "yes" which was a lot. Pennyworth was right: Grayson did know this feeling very well. By the time we were done, he was smiling ear to ear like a kid in a candy store.

"What?" I abruptly snapped.

He sat for a few seconds clearly enjoying himself. Then he said in a teasing tone:

"You like her..."