She was quiet and shiftless as they showed her around the tower, her eyes often glaring up at the fluorescent lights above her. Starfire offered her the entire kitchen's contents of food, but the only thing Oleander would accept was a very tall glass of water, and what Cyborg felt was a miniscule corner of cheese. As she nibbled away contently, her eyes darting across the room and taking in her new surroundings, the Titans tried to pry more information from her; where had she come from, why was she here, where did she get her powers? But through the gentle interrogation, she stayed silent, looking down at the carpet.
After some time, the Titans retired for the evening, and as each of them left to their own dormitories, the visitor said farewell to each in turn. Beast Boy returned from the hall with a plush pillow and a thick, heavy blanket to throw over herself as she slept. She curled up beneath it gratefully, and as Beast Boy slowly stumbled from the room, he heard a crisp, quiet "thank you."
Cyborg was in his charging mode when he heard the floor creak outside his bedroom door. As the plug detached itself from his chest, and his one biotic eye and one mechanical eye opened, his eyes shot to the crack beneath his door. Beyond it, a shadow snuck by. Cyborg crept as stealthily as his large frame allowed, and as the door slid open silently before him, he glanced sneakily down the hall. A slim figure glided up the staircase at the end of the hall. He tiptoed after the apparition, and followed it to the rooftop.
The cold air of the coming dawn slammed into Cyborg's face, and he fought the shiver that threatened to run the length of his body. As he watched, the slim figure dashed to the edge of the tower's roof. Cyborg reached out in terror, and nearly screamed, but the ghost stopped sharply at the very edge of the concrete.
Just then, the pink sky began to bleed a deep red and orange as the sun finally crested the horizon. Oleander stood maniacally on the edge of the roof, her toes dangling over the edge, her face full to the first rays of the day. In her hand, a bottle of water was grasped, and with a desperate grunt and a heaving chest, she wrested the cap off. In a single upturning of the bottle, she drank all the water greedily. She quickly tossed the bottle over her shoulder, and it rolled to a stop inches from Cyborg's foot, from where he was still hidden in the roofed stair well.
The morning was shredded with the noise of a zipper being undone; the young hero gulped as his house guest tore down the zipper that ran along the front of her white dress and discarded it to the side. Unable to look away, Cyborg watched, enamored by this stranger's strange ways. She breathed deeply, and as he watched, her cream skin began to change color; slowly, from a pale eggshell, it change to an olive tone, and from there, it changed to the faintest tint of…green?
Her skin deepened in pigment, and as he watched in confusion, her skin grew more and more vibrant, until her entire bare body was a gleaming emerald hue. As he watched her, her hands splayed, open palmed, to the sun's first warmth of the day, Cyborg thought of the vibrant, youthful color of a noonday sun gleaming through tree leaves. She was glowing. Her hair began to float, defying gravity, spreading out around her like flower petals in the wind. She sighed with relief, and Cyborg sighed with hazy content, just watching.
Her head whipped around, and her hair fell suddenly. Cyborg shouted at being discovered, and Oleander squeaked, diving to cover her exposed flesh. Stuttered apologies, screeched accusations. When Oleander was redressed again, Cyborg felt his tongue grow dry, unsure of what to do.
"What are you doing up?" She asked quietly, the sunrise illuminating her.
"I…you… I heard you go by my room," Cyborg fumbled. She quickly apologized for disturbing him, before turning back to the sun and rescaling the ledge. "What are you doing, it could be dangerous up there," Cyborg warned, hating how he sounded like a over protective granny.
"Plants need sun," she said, turning to him as her hair began to slowly float again. "Well, sun and water. If I don't take time each day to absorb some sunshine, I will feel poorly for the rest of the day." She turned her face back to the sun, closing her eyes, a small smile playing on her sweet lips. "My hair splays to increase my surface area; you know, more photosynthesis." She looked over at him then, eyes slightly narrowed. "That's why I took off my dressing as well. Enjoy the free peep show, did you?" As Cyborg wheeled for a response, a giggle, as soft as a tinkling brook, sneaked from her mouth. "It's alright. It's not every day you get to see a walking, talking plant." He sighed in relief, glad she wasn't planning on investigating further. Yes, he had been curious about her; standing on the edge of a perilous fall, skin turning green, floating hair…but she had also been remarkably breathtaking, her nude beauty something unprecedented.
After what must have been an hour of chatter, she finally stepped down off the ledge, and turned to Cyborg with a smile. "That's it, I'm good." As they headed back downstairs, her skin faded from its emerald gleam to its usual, pale tone.
"Look it's been great getting to know you, but I still don't know anything about you," Cyborg said, slightly apprehensive to try and broach her walls. She shrugged, looking a little more nervous. "Why not tell me a little more about yourself?" Oleander sighed, then looked at her titanium comrade with a sideways glance.
"Trust is earned, not freely given," her fragile voice taking on an edge of steel he didn't think she was capable of possessing. Cyborg's eyes widened, then he nodded with a smile.
"Well, I guess I look forward to earning it," he chuckled, shaking his head at the mysterious visitor, and together, the pair walked into the living room, which was bathed in the early morning light, filtering in through the windows.
