"Hey Raven? I think there's a piece of glass stuck in it."

Raven inwardly groaned as the boy in front of her gestured towards the decent sized gash underneath his left shoulder blade.

"Alright, then it'll need to be removed before I can proceed. Just give me a moment to sterilize the pliers."

This elicited a small, half-hearted grimace from her patient and she turned away before she could see him gingerly remove his now ruined uniform. A generous amount of blood now painted the back of the top, its redness looking odd against the deep purple fabric. Then again, green and purple were an odd combination to begin with.

Beast Boy laid himself on the hospital table stomach-side down, careful to not jar the wounded area and drive the offending glass shards any deeper into his back. Out of the corner of her eye Raven saw he was now waiting for her, his eyes trained on nothing in particular across the room. She brought the clean tools over to the metal cart next to the table and finally got a look at the gash.

It was bigger than she'd first assumed and, with a small groan, she noted that there wasn't just one large piece of glass, but many shards scattered in the torn flesh. It was ragged looking, and there was something queer about the way the glass still tried to flash in the light even though it was coated in the dense, sticky liquid. Removing all of the pieces would certainly take some time. She relayed the diagnosis to her patient, who simply gave an absent nod and went back to his day dreaming. Grabbing the pliers, Raven began her task.

She was vaguely glad that the task was one the required most of her concentration; with the need to stay focused she couldn't let her mind ponder the area around the wound. Because, even though she'd let Mad Mod pick out her wardrobe before she admitted it, her teammate had a rather nice back.

She always was surprised that people could think she was so uninterested in the male form (well, perhaps not surprised, but then again no one ever used logic). She was a teenage girl and, as such, she liked guys and could appreciate one and any physical traits he had. She could admit that Robin had a nice jaw and that Cyborg had a soothing voice; that Speedy had great arms and Redstar had very nice shoulders; that Aqualad had niceā€¦.everything. She made all these observations like any teenage girl, full of hormones and awkwardness, would, most of them with Starfire in agreement (although technically it had been Star's observation of Robin and Raven's agreement). In fact, at one point or another the pair had gone through what ended up being the entire list of male Titans, good naturedly rating them and pointing out their best features. There'd been blushing and (at least on Star's part) giggling abound as they sat on the pink plush carpet of the Tameranian's bedroom and looked at the official profile photos of each member.

When they'd gotten to Beast Boy Raven had casually said he had nice eyes and moved onto the next Titan (Bushido, if she remembered correctly). That had seemed safe and Star had eagerly agreed and moved on. After all, it was one thing to compliment the butt of a guy you saw maybe twice a year but quite another if you saw him every day.

What Raven had failed to mention was that she'd already noticed a less-safe attribute of the youngest member of Titan's West.

Raven finally stood up straight, placing the pliers next to the bloody pile of glass on the tray. The hard part of the process was done; now all she had to do was heal. The gash had been deep enough that it would take a couple of minutes to stem the bleeding and reconnect the tissue. She felt the dark energy seep out of her hand and onto the wound. After a few seconds her powers kicked into auto-pilot, if you will, and she found she didn't need to concentrate so intently on the task at hand. She forced herself to remain focused and to not let her mind (and eyes) wonder.

This lasted about 20 seconds.

She couldn't remember the exact instance she'd realized Beast Boy could potentially have an attractive attribute (considering the monumental implications of this she was surprised she didn't). She just knew that whenever his back was turned towards her she caught her eyes roaming over it.

At fifteen, he was still quite thin and only was a scant inch taller than her. He didn't spend hours in the gym working his muscles, nor did he possess any natural inclination for being a muscle-bound meathead. Therefore, a logical person would not think to suggest that a back belonging to someone of this sort would be one to write home about.

But teenage girls are rarely logical on such matters.

Raven felt a blush creep up onto her cheeks as she caught herself perusing the boy in front of her. His shoulders, though not especially broad, were firm and muscular, as was the rest of his back, which tapered down to a pair of slim hips (she refused to consider what could be going on any lower than his hips) and two very prominent dimples laying just above his waistband. Despite the large, and rather disgusting, gash marring what was otherwise a perfect (did she really just use that adjective?) back, Raven couldn't keep her eyes from sweeping up and down his form. It was rather annoying, actually.

Finally, the wound was completely healed and she forced herself to pry her eyes away from their target.

"There. Everything should be fine now. How does that feel?" she asked her patient, turning away to busy herself with clean up. A residual blush still stained her alabaster cheeks.

Beast Boy sat up and hopped off the table. He rotated his arms around several times and turned towards his left to assess the area. He grinned and proclaimed, "Great! I don't feel anything."


He was still shirtless and still turned away from her and she still refused to look at him. She would not look. She wouldn't.

Oblivious to her silent battle, Beast Boy grabbed his ruined uniform top and turned towards his doctor. "Well, this guy needs a sandwich. Thanks Rae! I really appreciate it."

And he promptly walked past her and out the infirmorary door.

And she promptly realized that, skinny or not, she could appreciate his front just as much as his back.