Rating: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there. (T)
Pairings: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy
Genre: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc.
Author's Note: And for my next trick! I give you fluffy Speedy/Raven-ish-ness with some random nerdy candy coating. You need not be familiar with the LOTR books for this, but it's slightly helpful to be at least passing familiar with the movie trilogy. If you've ever geeked out over anything (and you're here, so, y'know, I'm assuming), you really know all you need to know.
Summary: Raven and Speedy geek out, and Speedy can't keep his hands to himself.
Disclaimer: I own only the words on the page.
"But honestly, as good as the movies were, they just couldn't have possibly even hoped to encompass the sheer breadth of history and magnificence of Tolkien's vision," said Raven, shrugging one shoulder almost dismissively. Speedy was learning that what Raven lacked in facial expressiveness, she often made up for in the subtleties of body language.
"All right, I'll give you that, sure." Speedy nodded his head in concession, shifting his weight on his elbows to switch the uncomfortable knot of his sweats' drawstring where it dug into his hipbone. He was lying on his stomach on the plushly carpeted floor of the Titans East common room, Raven situated crosswise next to him, back leaned against the couch. The two were entirely alone at this ungodly hour, both stricken with a case of insomnia they had mutually decided to assuage with a DVD marathon. The movies had ended, Speedy made a casual comment accidentally revealing himself as a well-read Tolkienite, and the conversation had spun wildly out of control from there. "But you have to admit, there's no way in hell a cinematic feature, even a whole trilogy, could ever go into that much depth of detail. It'd take an entire television miniseries, or even a multi-season series, with a full-term feature film-size budget to cover the whole, unedited tale of the Lord of the Rings, not even mentioning all of Middle Earth."
"True," Raven admitted slowly, fingers picking at the carpet pile absently. "And while I'm sure such an endeavor would have massive financial returns and possibly epic fan appeal, I can also concede that no production company would ever be able to secure the initial funding for such an undertaking."
"Well, then, can you finally admit that the movies were awesome in their own right?" Speedy asked archly, reaching out and laying a palm heavily over her fingers to stop them incessantly picking at the rug.
Raven glanced down sharply at his hand over hers, pursing her lips and quirking one brow, as much an expression of reproach and askance as she ever wore. When Speedy only grinned cheekily at her, pressing her fingers harder into the floor, she rolled her eyes and grudgingly replied, "Well, I wouldn't necessarily choose the word 'awesome'… but considering how badly the books could have been butchered, I'll say Mr. Jackson did quite well indeed." She looked sidelong at his wry expression, and the curve at the corner of her mouth was almost a smirk. "And besides," her tone was positively snarky, "Orlando Bloom did make pleasing viewing, what with the tights, and the legs, and the running…"
Speedy laughed, his fingers lifting off her hand and absently running thumb and forefinger along the sides of her pinky, as if measuring the width. "Hey, Legolas was an archer, you know, and my uniform leggings are damn near tight enough to be tights."
She watched his fingers play with her littlest digit with a vaguely bemused line between her brows. "If only you had long blond hair and a slightly British accent, I could almost pretend. Alas, you've got the vowels and consonants of Anywhere, America, and short red hair. But don't worry, at least you're probably better with a bow than Orlando."
"Probably?" Speedy scoffed under his breath, then moved on, dismissing the suggestion for the ludicrous notion it was, all the while tracing the shape of the fingernail on Raven's middle finger. "Surely Orlie wasn't the only thing you liked about the movies."
Raven chuckled silently at his brief offense, forgetting to shoot him a stern look for his sudden phalange fixation. "Well, the landscapes were breathtaking." She paused, lips making a sudden, quick curl of amusement. "And it was delightfully ironic that Radagast the Brown's cinematic debut was as a moth."
"Eh," Speedy shrugged, verbally and physically, "The guy's, like, a footnote in almost every book written about Middle Earth. He probably doesn't mind not being splashed on the big screen for all to see, the grumpy old hermit."
"He's a fictional character, Speedy, of course he doesn't mind," she chided playfully—then blinked at the sensation of his hand loosely encircling her wrist. "What are you doing?"
Speedy missed the confused exasperation in her eyes, so intent was he on the amount of space between his fingers and her wrist when he made an "o" with forefinger and thumb touching. "You're so tiny!" His voice was irrationally incredulous, as if her delicate build was an elaborate joke being played on him. "It's like I could snap your wrist like a twig."
Raven tugged at her wrist to no avail, his two-finger grip refusing to budge. "Well, you couldn't, and if you tried I would be forced to hurt you," she snipped irritably.
He snorted and held her arm aloft, marveling over the supple limb as if he'd never seen it before. "You're so damn little it doesn't seem like you should be able to hurt me." His eyes flicked over in time to catch her face freezing in a dangerous visage, a slightly murderous glint in her eye, and he rushed to add, "I mean, I know you could kick my ass, I've seen you fight—"
"I have kicked your ass before," she interrupted through bared teeth.
"—But it just doesn't seem like you should be able to. I guess I never paid attention before, but the way you're built, it makes me think 'fragile' and 'delicate' and stuff."
Raven felt only more aggravated when her cheeks flushed. His familiar handling was more than a little disconcerting, not least because it bothered her so much less than she thought it should. Aside from the occasional bone-crushing hug from Starfire or comradely shoulder-clap from Robin, no one just… touched her like this. As if someone else's skin on hers was completely within the realm of the plausible, instead of the highly unlikely and nigh unthinkable. "I am not fragile, nor am I delicate. I happen to be able to take quite a lot of damage, more than you, even, and I have never been some waifish model-thin stick figure."
Speedy snorted again and finally released her wrist, only to wrap his fingers around the firm, well-toned bicep bared by her sleeveless tank-top. "Oh, I know you're strong, and half-demonic healing abilities or not, you're certainly tough." He took his hand off her arm and traced the backs of his fingers suddenly down her side from ribcage to hip, following the pronounced curve of her waist. "And you're definitely no stick figure," he chuckled.
The trail of his knuckles down her side raised a tide of gooseflesh from the nape of her neck to her ankles, and she found herself momentarily dumbstruck and flame-cheeked under his inscrutable smirk and twinkling blue eyes.