Author's Note: My Introduction story is a bit stuck at the moment. I'm working on getting the next chapter out, but it is determined to fight me. That's alright. I'll whip it into shape soon enough. In the meantime, have this little fluffy wonder. Tell me what you think!
No one looks twice at me, walking down the street. Of course they don't. In sunglasses and civvies, I look just like anyone else. The paparazzi don't notice me, but then, they're not looking for me. Dick Grayson is attending a prestigious boarding school in upstate New York. What would be be doing in Jump? Anyone looking closely would see Robin's steel-plated boots beneath my jeans. Small risk, but if there's an alert, I need to have the extra weight they give my kick. My mask is tucked into my wallet for the same reason.
There are days when I wake up and put the mask on and everything is perfect. Right. Just me and my team and my city. Innocents to protect, crises to avert, bad guys to throw in jail. There's an order to the universe, and I know exactly how I fit into it.
And then she comes charging in, eyes glowing green and a battle cry on her lips, or she'll hug me in a moment of blind joy, wrap her arms around my neck and press close. She's warm and soft and in a haze of strawberry-and-ginger scented fog, I will very nearly do something incredibly stupid. I swear that scent is catnip for Robins everywhere, because everything goes a little hazy and all my good, logical reasons for keeping my distance flee my brain. The universe tilts, swirls around me and I feel lost.
Those are the moments where I'm weak. A hand on the small of her back while we walk down the street. Brushing my fingers against hers when I pass over a slice of pizza, swinging over to catch her when she's falling even though she can fly and probably doesn't need it. Little touches, things that I can brush off as just friendly. I can't seem to help myself. She feels good in my arms.
Then there are times when I shut her out completely. Big cases that get under my skin and bring out the hyper-focused workaholic that I was before we formed this team and my friends reminded me that normal teenagers do things like get pizza and go to the park and play video games together. I shut everyone else out too, but specifically, I can't have her around. She'll come to the door of my study when I've got news articles and pictures plastered over the walls, a map riddled with pins on my table, seeking connections that elude me, and she'll try to draw me out. I'll slam the door in her face every time.
Partly it's because I'm moody and agressive, and I don't want to be bothered. Mostly it's because there's a part of me that becomes… unhinged in that state. I become reckless and uncaring. It usually ends up with me doing something stupid, like making a thief alter-alter-ego or going haring off on my own even though there are four other people in my home that will always have my back. Those are stupid things I can live with. Shoving her up against a wall and kissing her because I've been awake for far too long and all my careful logic and reasoning is tied up with searching for a solution is something I can't live with. Saying something I shouldn't because I'm vulnerable and all my usually controlled emotions are raging around me is something I can't live with. 'I think it's awesome that you can shoot starbolts and it's cool that you're brave and crazy strong' is fine.
I can't stop thinking about you.
I think you're beautiful.
I want to kiss you, like… all the time.
All true, but not fine. The opposite of fine. Lately, it's always been on my mind. She throws off the neat order of my universe, leaving me off-balance. Adrift. I should hate it. The scale of being a controlling bastard runs from one to Batman, and I am Bruce's protege in more ways that one, but the truth is… I like it. More than like it.
The problem is that I am Bruce's protege. Run a team, fine, but don't get too close. Attachment is just a weakness to be exploited. If you let yourself care about her then she stops being an asset and becomes a liability. She becomes a weapon to be used against you. You'd focus more on protecting her than finishing the job. You'll be sloppy, distracted, and people will get hurt. Yeah, Bruce, I know.
I know all the reasons I need to stay away. I've developed the habit recently of sneaking into the city, hiding behind the relative anonymity of Dick Grayson and getting away from the Tower when I feel like the chance is too great that I might do something stupid. I'm going to have to get it together before I go back. She just doesn't seem to realize how alluring she is. She'd beat her best time on the training course this morning, hitting every target and dodging every attack. In her triumph, she'd grabbed me into a hug and before I knew it, we were thirty feet above ground and she was doing this little dance-twirl kind of thing, and a Grayson had been flying again. She'd been so incredibly close, and it would have been so easy to kiss her. Too easy.
As soon as she'd set me down, I'd made a big to-do about having work to get done and ostensibly vanished into my study, changed, and snuck back out again. A Grayson had been flying again. She wouldn't never know what it meant to me, having that realization. I'd felt closer to my parents than I had in so long, thanks to Starfire. She'd literally swept me off my feet.
How she sneaks up on me, I don't know, but suddenly there she is and she's sweeping me up again, this time by a hand twisted in the collar of my t-shirt. Her eyes are glowing green and her face is twisted into a snarl. There's a starbolt encasing her fist, too close to my face for comfort. I can feel the heat. "You are wearing his shoes. How dare you steal from-" Her expression changes rapid fire. Anger-suspicion-confusion-recognition-pleasure-surprise. That's me caught right there. "Robin?"
"Hey Star." I glance down. Forty feet and climbing. "Mind putting me down?"
She squeaks, like she just realized who she threatened, and lets me go. Doesn't put me down. Just lets go, and I'm plummeting. That's okay. I'm not an acrobat for nothing. Kick off the side of a building, grab a fire escape, and then it's just a series of jumps and twists until my feet hit the ground. Lucky she dropped me over an alley. She zips down to my side. "I am sorry! I was caught by the surprise, and-"
"No harm. It was kind of fun, actually. " A good test of my skills.
"I saw your shoes and I was concerned that someone had broken into the tower and stolen from you, and-" She stops suddenly, and the way she's looking at me changes. The apologetic expression is gone, and what's on her face now is something like wonder. "You are not wearing your mask."
She's so close. I stick my hands into my pockets before they can do something I don't approve of, like brush her hair away from her eyes or pull her closer. "No. I just… wanted to get away from the Tower for a few minutes. Take a break, but I didn't want to be interrupted. People recognize Robin, but they don't recognize-" Too close. Almost blew my cover there. "-me without it." Kind of a lame finish. Maybe she won't notice. Please don't notice.
"Who are you without it?"
Damn. The problem with telling her who I am is that it reveals secrets that aren't mine to give away. Aren't many people our age in the world named Dick. Shouldn't tell her anyway. There's a reason we don't talk about who we were before we became heroes. I trust my team, but I'm still careful. I open my mouth to say that I can't tell her that, but what comes out is, "Richard." Dammit. Stupid, stupid mouth.
:Richard," She repeats, testing the sound of my name. It sounds strange coming from Starfire's lips, but not a bad kind of strange. Then she starts reaching for my sunglasses. She's going slowly, giving me plenty of time to stop her, and I should. I really should, but I'm so tired of always being the hero and never the person. Of making the responsible call. Of holding her at arm's distance when all I really want is to drag her closer. We're in an alley, the street beyond is empty, so I don't stop her when she grabs them and pulls them from my face. Her smile makes me a little weak, and I raise an eyebrow.
"Well?"
"Blue," she gives me a little laugh. "I knew they would be blue."