Disclaimer: Teen Titans belongs to Glen Murakami. I disclaim them!
Pairings: If any pairings show up, they're probably going to be Beast Boy/Raven or Robin/Starfire.
Author's Note: Robin always did have the most horrible luck. Okay, maybe not that horrible. (These are supposed to be unrelated, but I couldn't help continuing with "Money." This is the only pair of ficlets which will have anything to do with each other. Maybe.)
Prisoner
"Dammit, locked!"
"Robin, are you all right?"
"I'm fine." He couldn't see her at all. "Where are you?"
"I am here." He felt a hand brush against his hip. "Ah, and there you are. I was afraid I would hit you."
"Yeah. Not even sure how big this closet is. How long do you think we're stuck?"
"I am sure that Raven must be getting Cyborg to open the closet for us."
"Somehow I don't think that was her intention when she left us in here . . . ."
"Perhaps we should call for help."
"No use. The walls in the Tower are virtually soundproof. But maybe . . . ." Robin fiddled with his utility belt. "No! I left the skeleton key in my room – and there isn't even a keyhole from this side, anyway." He exhaled and pounded a fist against the door. "Gah, just kill me now."
"Robin." He stiffened a little at the puff of warm breath on the back of his neck. "I hope you do not find my company so unpleasant that you would resort to death to get away from me . . . ." Her voice was teasing, but he sensed the tiniest hint of displeasure.
"It's not you, Star." Yes, it is. "I'm just irritated that I can't get us out of this." And that I'm stuck in an extremely enclosed space with you and your hand keeps brushing my arm. Well, crap. "And, there's the toilet . . . it's still stuck, and you know . . . ."
"I assure you, Robin, Slade is not plotting the demise of our plumbing."
"Yeah. Sure."
Starfire let out a breath of laugh. Robin snuck a glance at her and then remembered that it was pitch black. He leaned back against the wall. "What do you think we should do while we wait?" he asked, resigned to his fate.
Starfire was silent for some time. Then: "Well, I can think of one thing."
"What?"
"Guess!" She laughed.
"Er . . . twenty questions?"
He heard a small sigh. "No, Robin. Monopoly."
He knitted his eyebrows. "We can't play Monopoly in the dark."
"No, no. I was using what I believe is called sarcasm."
"Oh. Well, that's new."
They were silent for some time.
"What were you thinking of?"
He felt a warm hand on his cheek. "This," she whispered, and she pressed her lips to his.