Disclaimer: The usual stuff. And nope, I don't own Teen Titans. Wish I did, though...


Chapter 1

Batman had gotten a cold. Yes, a cold. At present, he was sitting, rather miserably, in front of the fire, wrapped up like a cocoon in his cape and a woolly pink blanket with his cowl jammed rather unceremoniously over his head. He sniffled. There was a cup of tea sitting on a small stool beside him, but he'd been wrapped up so firmly that he couldn't even move his fingers, much less his arms. or his legs, for that matter, so he wasn't going anywhere. So much for the tea. Not that he wanted to drink it, anyway.

It definitely wasn't his fault he was here. In fact, it was Alfred's. When the butler had pinned him down at the door, and flatly refused his going out (and whatever Alfred said about Bruce's health, he had better darned listen to), Bruce had vehemently refused. He'd said that it was his duty as Batman to patrol the city, cold or not, and no way was he staying- what was that? No, thank you, he did not want a cup of tea. Upon hearing this, Alfred had taken immediate action, and a few minutes later, Batman had found himself wrapped up in this ridiculous blanket, effectively immobilised. And with a cup of tea beside him, too. Oh, the irony.

Yes, Nightwing had been called in from Bludhaven, and he wasn't too happy about it -who would be getting dragged out of bed at 1.30 am on a winter night?

Starfire had not been pleased, either. She had made a video call to Bruce after she learned the reason why Dick was gone, threatening to rip out Batman's, er, nether regions (she used a slightly different term) and have him go and perform anal penetration on himself. That being the nicer interpretation of her message. Bruce just reckoned she wanted snuggles from Dick.

And yes, Robin had been instructed to go on different patrol routes that night to cover up for Batman, but still, Batman felt that he should be the one out there, actually doing something, not sitting here and brooding. Batman wrinkled his nose. Oh, crap.

"Ahhh... Ahhh... Atchooo!" The Dark Knight flew backwards off the stool.

Suddenly, the doorknob rattled. Good, Batman thought. Alfred's finally relented. However, it was Starfire who poked her head around the door. "Dick? Is that you? You must come home, now, no matter what Bruce says, I wish for the 'snuggling'!" Batman almost snorted out loud. Now he knew just what they did alone at night. The more rational side of his brain said, "Keep quiet! Did you remember what she wanted to do to you?" He tried keeping silent, but as it was, a small sound escaped from him. Starfire looked around for the source of the noise, and once she locked onto Batman, a mischievous gleam spread across her brilliant green eyes and a small smile twisted her lips.

"Hello, Batman." An involuntary noise, like someone had trodden on a mouse, escaped his lips. Slowly, deliberately, she stalked over to his prone form, enjoying the absolute control she had over him. Not every day do you have Batman totally immobilised and delivered almost on a silver platter to you. She bent over. "I trust you are... Enjoying yourself?" Yes, he was. If only she knew. Damn, that cleavage...

Her hair tumbled in a waterfall over her shoulder, the ends lighting up in a dancing flame that seemed to echo her mood.

Even in his (relatively) old age, Batman- or rather Bruce Wayne- still made a pretty good playboy, and at present his drool was practically hitting the ground. Not that it had that much to go, anyway- his head was just a couple of centimetres above the wooden floorboards. She leaned close, recognising the effect she had on him, her fingertips just brushing his chest. She whispered in his ear. "Bruce, I need to ask you something." That sultry look, those fluttering eyelashes, that low, sexy voice, was just more than he could bear. A rush of blood came between his legs so violently that he was sure Starfire would've noticed, even through all that blanket. She did.

"Bruce, I was thinking that in your... unfortunate absence, I could patrol Gotham for you. In your suit."

That snapped him out of it. "WHAT? No way are you wearing my suit! It's mine!"

"Surely a man like you would be wise enough as to keep the 'extras', Bruce."

"Well you can't have my extras."

She pouted. "Well, you would let Catwoman if she asked... Dick has told me often that you have 'the thing' going on with her."

He turned red. "I don't! There's no such thing! And don't change the subject! You're not wearing my extras, and that's final!"

Her expression suddenly turned serious, the smile as though wiped off by an invisible whiteboard eraser. "Then perhaps I may have to make do with the one you are wearing."

She slowly moved to his cowl, peeling it back, her fingers trailing his shoulders, her fingers deftly forcing the tight bodysuit away from his shoulders.

He froze. Well, he became more immobilised than before, if one were to nitpick. "Wh...What are you doing?"He felt a chill, and it definitely wasn't the night air. She ignored him, slipping a hand down into the blanket, and Batman suddenly felt very, very warm, something that had nothing to do with the blanket at all. She traced his rigid, toned abdominal muscles, smiling at him with what he suddenly found to be sharper-than-necessary teeth. She slid lower, and lower, testing him. Batman made a noise somewhere between a squeak and a whimper.

"Fine!" It was a drawn out, gasping breath, laced with defeat. "You win. Now get your damn hand OUT OF MY PANTS!"

One last playful squeeze. "The password, Bruce."

"What password? I don't-" His voice was strangled.

"I am sure you know very well what I mean, Bruce. You keep all your suits under the 'lock and key'. I need the key." Her eyes glowed, powerfully, and the next thing he knew Bruce had been hoisted helplessly into the air and slammed against a wall.

Damnit, he thought. This is the last time I'm letting my son marry a freaking ALIEN. She bared her teeth. "Tell me. Now." Why, oh why couldn't he escape? He cursed Alfred and his self- knitted, too- tight woolly things, (for lack of a better word) of which his present captive was one. (The blanket, not Starfire.)

"3120! Now let go of me! And get out!" The Caped Crusader, fallen victim to a woolly pink rug and a girl. It would be the death of him when Dick found out. If Dick found out, he reminded himself, for one cannot possibly count on their eldest sons to find out everything that has happened to their father. Then again, one very well might when it came to Dick Grayson.

Starfire turned sweet again, with no trace left at all of her former ferocity."Oh, Bruce, '3120' is 'cat' in numerals. "

"I said, OUT!"

-To Be Continued-

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He really needs to learn how to stay on Starfire's good side... Poor Bruce.