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Word 14 - Dance
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Parties were pointless. The music was always too loud, the floor always too crowded. The lights always flashed into her eyes, and no matter how isolated she was, there was always somebody who brushed against her. And of course, no matter how often she told people that; no, she didn't want to dance; and that yes, she was sure-there was always at least one moron who would come up and ask her. In the case of one particular idiot, several times, during the same song. And it always seemed that he had no idea he has asked her mere moments before.

She really wasn't sure why she was here. It probably had something to do with everyone piling into the T-Car and showing up at some club. Their status had them ushered in immediately. If she found out which one of her teammates had suggested this, she would kill them. Slowly, painfully, and without a doubt, secretly.

She didn't like parties. Not her thing at all to say the least. Giddy girls and egoistic boys, annoying music and the DJ was always playing the most ignorant music. Not to mention the clothes that these people wore-it was hard to tell where some of the shirts and skirts started and where the skin ended. Pants were practically painted on to girls, shirts were ruffled and un-buttoned on boys, and the air was filled with the rank odor of way too many colognes, perfumes and hair sprays.

It was enough to give her a headache that promised not to relieve itself until she had a cup of hot tea and a good book. Speaking of which, when were they leaving? And why didn't she just leave herself? Oh yeah, she'd have to tell at least one of the others that she was leaving. Problem? They were all dancing, if waving ones arms about and moving feet randomly qualified as such. Which, since everyone else was doing more or less the same thing (not to mention simply bouncing up and down; that person obviously lacked a brain), was obviously considered so. She did not want to go on that floor and be crushed by hundreds of idiots who couldn't control their limbs. No, she would much rather be among her fellow wall-flowers. Okay, she would actually rather be at the tower, but still.

She couldn't contact them with her mind. The music combined with the exhiliration of their so-called fun made sure of that. It was too hard to get them to hear her without causing them excruciating amounts of pain. That could wait until she found out whose idea it was in the first place. No need to punish the others for a crime they didn't commit. But the idea grew more and more tempting with each passing moments, and each passing idiot.

'This is ridiculous,' she thought to herself as she pushed herself away from the wall. A few hopeful glances from other wall-flowers (did she want to dance? was it all finally over? could they leave now?) were shot down as she strode over to a boy, short and green, tugged him away from his dancing partner and said two words: "I'm leaving".

Beast Boy looked at Raven in surprise for a moment before it was replaced with a look of disappointment. "Come on Rae, you can't leave until you've danced to at least one song!"

"No, Beast Boy, I can leave without dancing, and I will. Tell the others I went home." She turned to walk out and fly back to the tower, but she had a problem. Beast Boy was tugging her onto the floor; he seemed to have not heard what she just said.

"Don't worry Rae, I'll make sure nobody bugs ya' out here; it's just you and me!"

And as he suddenly hugged her for such a brief moment she thought she'd imagined it, she thought two things. One, 'I should have told Cyborg, he would have just let me go.' Two, 'But maybe dances aren't that bad.'

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Dislcaimer: I own nothing of value concerning Teen Titans. All I own are my little drabbles. All characters used property of DC Comics and WB.
Notes: My first attempt at a BB/Rae fic. For my friends Chloe and Tiffany, just because.