Hiya, friends.

I've been toying for a while about doing a series of one-shots about the Titan dynamics we never get to see: the consequences of certain episodes, conversations and growth that are implied but not shown, and all the fun relational, domestic aspects of the show that we don't get enough of. I figured, instead of posting them individually as one-shots, I'd put them in a collection.

So…here we are. These will likely slip back and forth through the show's timeline. They will likely not be consistent with one another, so you might see certain thematic or situational elements repeated. But hopefully you'll enjoy reading them as much as I do writing them. These characters are just so much darn fun.

This fluffy bit of nonsense takes place right after "Overdrive," where Cyborg tricks Billy Numerous into overexerting himself by making holograms of the other Titans.

Chapter 1: Collective Nouns for Titans in the Wild

"Dude!"

Cyborg paused in the act of cracking eggs. "What?"

By now, Beast Boy's cry of indignation over Cyborg's breakfast choices was as clear a signal of the morning as a rooster crow.

"Sausage casserole? You want to eat chickens inside pigs? It's not enough for you to just eat them beside each other?"

"Man, you don't have any idea how good meat with meat is. Ever heard of a turducken?"

"You mean a Frankenstein abomination for carnivores—"

You'd think it would get old—and often, it did. But today, flushed with relief and victory after taking down Billy Numerous, the Titans were in a good enough mood to find it endearing. Sausage for the casserole sizzled in the frying pan, the smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen, and the living room was awash in bright morning light.

These were the mornings Starfire loved most. She giggled as Beast Boy made an unsuccessful dive at Cyborg's spatula. Across the table, Robin attempted to hide an amused smile, but Starfire caught his eye and a grin broke across his face. Even Raven's eyes seemed to twinkle over the rim of her tea mug. She hid it by shooting a disapproving look at Cyborg.

"I thought you were supposed to be going to bed," she said. "After having a Maximum-7 meltdown last night."

"I will," Cyborg insisted, with the decency to look a little guilty. "But I figured a little thing like a system crash shouldn't throw off the traditional, post-bad-guy-butt-kicking breakfast."

"Billy Numerous did not know what hit him!" Starfire beamed. "It was an ingenious piece of trickery, friend."

Cyborg grinned. "Thanks, Star." He chuckled as he scooped sausage into a baking pan and poured eggs over it. Beast Boy, disgusted but defeated, leaned on the counter with his arms crossed, pulling a face. "Man, I thought Billy was gonna puke when he saw twelve Starfires coming at him. I'm gonna pull that video later and make a gif set of it."

Robin cackled. It took Starfire a moment to remember what a gif was: one of the small moving images, not static like a picture or long enough to be considered a video.

"I'm still weirded out that your eye records all that stuff," said Beast Boy. "Like, it's taking video all the time."

"You must have sorted through hundreds of hours of footage to build holograms that could act so organically," said Robin.

"Not really. I just built a program that could isolate certain patterns of movement and cross-referenced it with—"

"Yeah, okay," said Beast Boy, waving his hand. "I'm just gonna pretend you used, like, magic to create a whole flock of Ravens."

"Murder."

Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at Raven, who took a sip of tea as though she hadn't just said the word "murder" for no reason at the breakfast table. Of course, of the five of them, Raven was definitely most likely to say something like that without preamble. But still.

"Come again?" Starfire inquired, in a much more polite voice than the situation warranted.

"You, uh, have something you want to share, Rae?" Beast Boy edged farther down the counter, away from the resident empath. Cyborg gripped his spatula a little tighter. Only Robin looked unsurprised, mouth still curved in amusement.

"It's not a flock," Raven said mildly. "A group of ravens is called a murder."

Cyborg seemed to sag with relief. "Woman," he said, pointing the spatula at her. "You can't do crap like that, especially not after an all-nighter. I think my core skipped a beat, and that ain't actually possible."

"Please," Starfire interjected, over the sounds of Beast Boy's sputtering and Robin's snicker. "Why is 'flock' incorrect? Does it not also mean 'multiple birds'?"

"Yes," Raven said. "But murder is the collective noun. Lots of things have them. A pride of lions. A glaring of cats. That kind of thing."

Starfire's mind reeled. She knew these words in very different context: Pride was what she felt after a well-aimed starbolt found its mark; glaring was what Raven did to Beast Boy…most of the time, really. Neither of them were synonymous with "group," "flock," "pack" or any of the other words she had heard to describe multiple somethings.

"Why use so many words when one would suffice? And why would the word for multiple ravens be the same as the one for—killing another person?"

"It's wordplay, Star," said Robin. "It's meant to put a certain picture in your head, or to make you feel a certain way. Ravens—the birds, that is—are carrion animals. They eat dead things. And because people are so used to seeing them where something or someone has died, we started associating big black birds with death. But—" and here he turned to Raven, almost apologetically—"I think it's actually a murder of crows. A group of ravens is an unkindness."

Raven looked distinctly offended at having been corrected. Beast Boy coughed the word "nerd," and Robin took the rubber band wrapped around the morning newspaper and flicked it at Beast Boy's head.

"Sophomore AP lit class, asshole."

"So it is for…amusement?" Starfire considered this. Tamaranean poetry was much more straightforward, but she supposed she could see the merits of this English custom. "It is for art?"

"Something like that."

"If it is not truly a murder of ravens, the bird," Starfire said, glancing at her hooded friend, "perhaps it can be a murder of Ravens, the person?"

"I'll allow it," said Raven primly. Robin shot her a sheepish grin. Starfire mulled it over, warming to the idea.

"A murder of Ravens," she mused. Her eyes fell on the youngest Titan. "And what should we call multiple Beast Boys?"

Beast Boy's eyes lit up, seizing on the game at once. "Oooh. How about—an awesomeness of Beast Boys? Or a bad-assery of Beast Boys?"

"Or an annoyance of Beast Boys," said Raven drily, and Cyborg hooted with laughter. The casserole made its way into the oven, and he joined them at the table.

"It could be a stain of Beast Boys," he suggested. "'Cuz he's a grass stain, get it?"

"Or a mess of Beast Boys," Robin teased. "For obvious reasons."

"Better than a boring little flock," Beast Boy shot back, sticking out his tongue.

"A group of robins isn't a flock, it's a round. A group of Robins, though—"

"Something fight-related," said Cyborg. "Like—a squadron. Or a battalion."

"I like troupe."

"Troop, like soldiers?" asked Raven. Robin blushed, very slightly.

"Troupe like acrobats. What are you, Cyborg?"

"Tough one. Let me check Google—" He blinked. "So a group of mechanics is called a torque, but I don't like the sound of that. Group of scientists is a beacon, which is better. Maybe…"

"A computation of Cyborgs?" Robin suggested. "A calculation?"

"OOOH, me, me!" Beast Boy's hand shot into the air. "You like to build stuff, right? What about an invention of Cyborgs?"

"Aw, YEAH!" They high-fived. "That's the best idea you ever had, string bean."

"I do my best."

"Four down." Raven turned to face Starfire. "What do we call a group of Starfires?"

"How about a shooting? Like shooting stars?"

"Or like a meteor shower. A shower of Starfires?"

"Nope." Robin shook his head. "I'm vetoing that right now. That sounds a lot dirtier than you think it does."

"No it doesn't," Beast Boy sniggered. This time Robin hit him with the newspaper. "Ow!"

"A flaring," said Raven. "Like a supernova."

"Or a radiance," Robin suggested. Raven raised her eyebrows, smirking. "What? Stars are radiant—"

"I think I should simply like to be a flight," said Starfire.

"A flight of Starfires." Cyborg held up a hand, ticking them off on his fingers. "An invention of Cyborgs. An annoyance of Beast Boys—"

"HEY!"

"—a troupe of Robins and a murder of Ravens. The collective nouns for the Teen Titans."

"Glorious!" Starfire beamed. "But what does one call multiple Teen Titans?"

Cyborg raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't we just call it a team?"

"Oh, this one's easy." Everyone turned to Robin. A playful grin spread across his face. "A group of Titans is called a clash."

AN: Reviews are always very much appreciated.