(A/N: Holá peeps! I HAVE RETURNED! And once again, I bring you a beautiful work by yours truly, DarkRaeLogan – the prologue to a pending series, The Chronicles of Jump City. This is just the beginning…)

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Disclaimer: No way do I own Teen Titans. If I did…well, we won't go into all that now.

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POV: Robin

Oh, god. My hands are shaking. What should I do? Stupid. That one's obvious. It's her birthday, and this is my gift to her. Better not mess up, Richard.

She swirls amidst the room in a long, lavender gown. My other three teammates laugh and clap. Happy 19th, Starfire! The words ring in the air, spoken or not. I'm in my regular outfit; I was ring shopping. Everybody else is formal. I most look like an idiot.

Beast Boy, damn him, spots me sneaking through the door, trying to remain unnoticed. "Yo, Robin's here! Present time!" Chaos ensues. Amongst everyone's disruptive scrambling towards the middle of the room – with the exception of Raven, obviously, who quietly teleports herself between Beast Boy and Cyborg – I catch Starfire's glance, and we smile. Although we've been…um…companionably dating regularly for over a year now, and into adulthood, I still sometimes feel timid around her.

We gather around the extending floor panel reserved for birthdays – Cy installed it several months ago, when I turned nineteen. Starfire sits on a suede-padded red chair in the middle, her flowing red dress loosely brushing her violet-slippered feet, her wide emerald eyes beautifully bright and constantly glowing, and her pale lashes lowered shyly.

Raven walks slowly toward her and places a lavender Tamaranian crown atop the birthday girl's silky crimson hair. Then she hands her a tissue-wrapped package, black with gold ribbon. "Happy birthday," she says softly to her friend.

Star eagerly unwraps the gift: a leather-bound black of ancient Centauri poetry and the Tamaranian translation. I've never known gothic epics to be one of my girlfriend's central interests, but she seems overjoyed by Raven's present, perhaps for the cultural significance. Then she moves on.

Beast Boy's birthday gift: A "How To Raise Your Own Fungi" kit. Kind of strange for a nineteen-year-old, but Starfire obviously adores it, as well as Cyborg's handmade (is that the appropriate word?) jewelry box. Several stuffed animals and such fluff come in boxes from Titans East, Jinx, and Kid Flash.

Star delights in the presents for a few minutes; then I step forward. All her bright attention turns to me.

"Ahem…uh, Star? Could you…come outside for a minute? – my…er…present is out there."

She nods, curiosity peaking over er acceptance.

Raven – to the rescue, thankfully – gives my a knowing, slightly amused look, and ushers the boys away. They're talking as though nothing has happened.

Sweat stains the top of my costume, I'm so embarrassed – and nervous. What will I do if she refuses? Can we ever be friends again? – but I must do this.

I love her.

We walk out onto the "out there" (thanks to my totally brilliant mind) balcony. She draws in breath, and I know why: the night sky is amazing from here. "Robin, I have never viewed the post-sunset atmosphere from this additional viewpoint of our tower. It is lovely."

"So are you," I find myself blurting out. She turns to stare at me. My hands begin trembling uncontrollably. This is a hundred times more powerful than any of our friendly dates. But I swallow it all down, and spill without planning my words.

"Starfire, ever since we met, I've had this thing inside me, a thing I never could identify…except now I can…and…" I trail off, uncertain of what to say.

"Yes?" she questions gently.

I hear the whispered words coming from my lips. Is this how every man feels when proposing marriage? "I love you."

And then I have to continue. So I kneel, delve my hand into my pocket, and pull out the black velvet case. It sits in my outstretched palm. I speak. "Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran, daughter of Luand'r, of Hriand'r, will you marry me?" As I finish these words, I flip open the tiny box. The miniature diamond, clear and blue and sparkling like crystalline seawater, glitters in the moonlight.

I sense her shock – most likely from my knowledge of her ancestry, which Galfore tought me on Tamaran ages ago – but also her ultimate content. And as everything blurs around my, I hear her reply: "Yes."

Time stops. I gape. I stare, jaw hanging limp. And she goes on. "Robin, I shall be eternally boound with you, for I love you as well."

And then I know, I feel, I understand. Before she can speak, I remove my mask. We stare into each other's eyes, hers emerald green, mine now revealed to their pale grey-blue. "My name is Richard Grayson," I say, kissing her passionately.

And being jolted to the metallic ground of the balcony as the Tower is attacked.

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A/N: Cliffie! Wh-hoo! R&R!