A/N: Apparently, you guys really liked the comedy in the last vignette. Wow. I'm floored. This came out from a spur of the moment image of Robin getting smacked in the face with...well...you'll see...just read on.

Disclaimer: It's still not mine...still not making any money off it. ((shrug))

It Only Takes A Moment
Part X: Sleepless
by Emania

"I'm so tired but I can't sleep / Standin' on the edge of something much too deep..."
-
Sarah McLachlan, I Will Remember

"You really don't need…"

The rest of his sentence was cut off as something cold and wet plopped him right in the mouth and most of the lower portion of his face as well.

It held there for a moment while Robin blinked in surprise, not even attempting to finish his sentence. Slowly, as if the thing were trying to hang on but losing the fight, it slid off his face and started its downward descent onto the cement floor of the laundry room.

When, with a strange sort of plop, the offending article hit the ground, Robin finally managed to open his mouth again. "…light to see," he finished his sentence.

Raven's silhouette moved in the semi-darkness and the overhead light flickered on. When the light finally revealed the nuances of her face, it was to show Robin exactly how much she was trying to keep from laughing. Robin looked down at the ground by his feet and found the wet mass of a black garment lying innocently as if it were the victim.

"You hit me with your bra?" he asked, raising a brow.

Robin's serious expression of surprise and offense was really too much to take. Raven was finally unable to hold back her laughter anymore. She chuckled and brought a hand up to her mouth to stifle it. "Serves you right for sneaking up on me," she finally managed, shaking her head and attempting bravely to compose herself.

"But a bra?" he insisted.

She used her magic to levitate it back to her and tried to curl as much of it in her hand as possible in some vain and tardy attempt to hide it from view. "It was an instinctual reaction…and it happened to be what I had in my hand at the time, so…" she trailed off and stuffed the offending bra back in with the dirty laundry. She'd have to re-wash it now.

"Which brings me to the point…" he started as he wiped the last remnants of lavender scented water from his face, "why are you doing laundry at 3 in the morning?" He sought out something to dry his hands on, but as an afterthought, brought them to his face and inhaled. 'Yep,' he decided. 'Lavender.' He wiped his hands on his pants and shook his head, 'I wonder what detergent she uses?' he thought absently.

"Because I couldn't sleep and it had to be done." He was obviously mulling over her logical if incomplete answer and she took the time to raise her own brow. "Why are you up and in the laundry room at 3 in the morning?" She made it a point of noticing how he was not carrying any laundry baskets. "And with no laundry to do?"

"I couldn't sleep either," he offered. He tried to ignore her knowing look that clearly told him she wasn't buying it, but he knew it was pointless. He sighed and sat up on one of the unused washers. "Okay, fine, so I wasn't even trying to sleep," he admitted sheepishly. "I was obsessing over tonight's mission..."

"You?" she asked, shaking out a wet, black, pillowcase before tossing it into the dryer. "Obsessing? No," she offered him a bland, albeit obviously sarcastic look.

Robin narrowed his eyes at the obvious jab and in answer, she leaned over the washing machine to reach for another article of clothing, "There were no loose ends in our last mission, Robin," she said while still bent over, her voice echoing eerily in the metal machinery, "It was just Doctor Light being his deranged self again..." she continued as she straightened and shook out another pillow case before glancing at him, "No conspiracy and no evil plots...just lunacy." She shook her head as she reached for another wet pillowcase, "And pathetic lunacy at that," she added, half under her breath.

Robin ran a hand through his hair, mussing it even more than it already was and nodded tiredly, "Yeah, I know...but lately, I just can't let things go...I can't help thinking that maybe this ridiculous heist is a cover up for something else or a smaller portion of something...more."

"Well," she mused aloud, tossing a few black socks into the dryer. "Being a little paranoid is good...it keeps you sharp and focused."

He grinned sheepishly, "But being a lot paranoid is..."

"Anal retentive," she finished easily as she went back into the washer to dig for more clothes. "And if you keep losing sleep about it, you'll be no good to us."

Robin stopped and stared at her hard enough so that she paused mid motion to glance up at him. "Isn't that like the pot calling the kettle black?"

She looked as if she wanted to argue, but decided against it and closed her mouth with a small smile instead. She went back to shoving small bunches of socks and other smallish apparel into the dryer and it suddenly hit him that it was all black.

"Speaking of which..." he motioned to the dryer, "don't you have any clothes that aren't black?"

She glanced at the dryer and the wet clothes in her hands as if she hadn't even really noticed what she was putting into the dryer. "This is my black load..." she told him, as if it should be obvious. When understanding didn't dawn in his expression, she frowned, "Don't you separate your clothes when you do laundry? You know, the whites with the whites, the delicates with the delicates, the black with the black and so on?"

Robin shook his head, "That would take too long."

She shook her head, closing the dryer's lid and switching it on. "Better than having clothes that should be white be pink instead or clothes that should be black be gray." She glanced at him as she started the washer filling with water.

It did occur to him how banal it was to be talking about the proper way of washing clothes at three in the morning, with Raven of all people, but he went with it anyway. "Now whose being anal retentive?" he asked chidingly.

She shrugged, "Excuse me for wanting my clothes to retain their original colors," she said unapologetically. As if in afterthought, she glanced at him sideways, "I'd think since you have such...distinct...colors to take care of, you'd know how to wash them properly."

It took him a moment to grasp her subtlety. "Are you insulting my choice in uniform?" he asked, disbelievingly. "Are you really dissing my colors?"

She tried to hide her smile by pouring the detergent into the water and starting to load the washer, "Did you really just say 'dissing'?" she countered.

"Because I distinctly remember," he continued, ignoring her question as he pushed himself off the dryer in an attempt to stand all the more imposingly, even though he feared it was lost on Raven, "a time when you rather enjoyed wearing these selfsame colors," he reminded her meaningfully, "nay," he continued, dramatically raising a finger, "this selfsame outfit!" he motioned to his clothes.

Her face was still lowered, intently watching her hands as she loaded the clothes into the water so he couldn't tell if she was blushing or smiling, but he knew it had to be some kind of reaction that she was trying to hide from him. "There's just one difference between you wearing those colors, Robin and me wearing them," she said, finally looking up at him as she lowered the lid of the washer.

"Yeah?" he asked, smirking at her, "What's that?"

"They make you look like a traffic light," she told him unapologetically. She raised a hand to stop him from his automatic cry of foul, "While I..."she leaned one hip against the washer and crossed her arms over her chest, "Well, I make them look good."

Robin's eyebrows rose in surprise, but his lips curved into a smile. "I don't think anyone would argue that point," he conceded.

The teasing look turned into one of almost comical suspicion, "Alright," she said, determined, "Who are you and what have you done with Robin?" she asked pointedly.

He laughed, "What?" he asked defensively, "Can't a guy offer a girl a compliment?"

"Compliments are strange but welcome," she allowed dismissively, "But for our Robin to concede defeat in an argument so easily...that's just plain suspicious," she answered.

That she had referred to him as theirs was not lost on him, but he wasn't quite sure how he should feel about such a casual reference. So, instead he went with her teasing, "So, I'm changing," he told her dramatically, "Growing, even."

"Maybe," and although her words were as if she were agreeing with him, her expression clearly informed him she wasn't buying it for a moment.

Robin found it incredibly amusing and shrugged, "I guess it wouldn't be you if you weren't suspicious."

Raven had turned back to her laundry but at his comment, she turned with a somewhat more vocal, "Ha!" than she perhaps had intended. "Now who's the pot and who's the kettle?"

Robin's laughter increased, "I don't think it matters either way, does it?" He shrugged, the laughter still in his voice, "We're both the same."

She smiled...slowly, as if unsure of whether or not she should. "Yes," she confirmed, turning back to the pile of clothes, "I suppose we are somewhat alike."

"Somewhat...yeah, okay," he said skeptically, "But who are the only two idiots who can never sleep and always find something to do in the wee hours when they should rightfully be sleeping?"

She turned back to him with a t-shirt in her hands, mid-fold, "Hey, I have a valid reason."

"You couldn't do laundry at a regular hour? Like while there's still daylight?"

She shook her head and folded the t-shirt in short, succinct movements, putting it aside on the neat pile she had made of folded clothes, "No, actually...someone is always using the machines then."

"This isn't an apartment complex, Raven, I'm sure there's some chance..."

"I rather not have to hunt for a time to do my laundry, thank you very much," she said primly, "I'd rather just do it late at night."

"That's a weak excuse," he countered frankly.

She glanced at him over her shoulder and shrugged, "Well...at least I have one."

"If that's the level of excuse we need, I'm sure my 'working on paperwork' excuse would be valid, too," he countered.

She gave him a look that clearly said she wouldn't necessarily agree with that but wouldn't argue it. He took the moment of silence to look over the piles of clothes: wet, dry, folded, dirty...he could tell just what she intended to do with them even if she hadn't told him. Some of the clothes he had seen, some of them he hadn't and he wondered when she wore them. He walked to stand next to her and spy on what type of clothes she was folding. A mound of pajama bottoms waited before her.

"So, why can't you sleep?" he asked casually as he watched her fold rhythmically.

She shrugged. "I was too wired to sleep," she answered.

"After a routine bust like Dr. Light?" he teased.

"Touché," she conceded.

"And you're really not going to say anything else?" he prompted.

"Not if you aren't," she countered.

"I thought we had been through that already?" he asked, half-jokingly, "Just me being paranoid and anal-retentive, remember?"

She shook her head, "But why are you being paranoid?" she asked, without looking at him, "You said that lately you were finding it harder to let go..." she glanced up at him. "Why lately?"

He looked down and found a spot of lint to play with. "I don't know why...It's just like I feel the stakes are getting higher and higher the more we fight," he admitted, surprising even himself at admitting so much so easily. When had it become so easy to share his burdens with her, he wondered? Since when could he share his fears and not even think twice about it?

She nodded and he caught it out of the corner of his eye, "I sometimes feel the same way," she admitted, returning to her rhythmic folding. "I keep wondering when our luck's going to run out." She paused in her folding as if something had just occurred to her and she sighed and shook her head, "When my luck is going to run out," she corrected, folding a pair of pants into a smaller size that might normally be necessary.

He had enough sense to wait for the surprise that such a frank admission from Raven should bring but something about the quiet of the night, with only the whirr-clank of the machines around them made it seem right to be having such a discussion and the surprise never came and he never missed it.

"No," he told her, unconsciously helping her by placing the folded piles of clothes into the empty, waiting laundry basket so she could have more room to continue folding, "You were right the first time...I feel the same thing, sometimes, like we've been so close to losing so many times that the law of averages just has to work against us at some point."

She nodded silently.

"So, what do you do?" he asked after a while.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"What do you about the doubt and the paranoid-negative-defeatist attitude when it comes over you?" he asked with a bit of a grin.

She seemed to think about it for a few moments, then, apparently unable to come up with any other answer, she shrugged and lifted the pair of flannel pants she was holding up between them, "I do laundry at 3 in the morning," she answered simply.

He raised his eyebrows, but after he had thought about it, found himself chuckling, "Yeah, okay," he nodded, moving yet another pile of clothes for her, letting his hands linger over the warmth of the just-out-of-the-dryer fabric. "More like 4 in the morning now, though."

Her lips curved in a half-smile and she nodded, whatever she was going to say interrupted by the loud buzzer that signaled the dryer had finished it's job. "Excuse me," she motioned for him to step aside so she could walk the few steps to the dryer and it wasn't until then that he realized how close he had been standing to her.

She opened the dryer and had started to take clothes out but stopped, "There's something else," she said, still crouched on her haunches, her hands on the rim of the dryer.

"Hm?" he prompted. He had been considering making himself useful and helping her fold her laundry, but he wasn't quite sure what she would think about him folding her sleepwear. "About what?"

"To get over the doubt," she explained.

"Oh?"

She looked down at her hands for a moment before turning her upper body to look at him, "I watch you all train," she admitted. "And I realize that luck isn't all there is, it's about preparation and training and teamwork..." She looked down and he thought she wouldn't say anymore, but she looked up again and he could see the mischief in her eyes even if it was almost hidden behind the mask of control she always wore, "And I remember that I'm part of a team now and that even if my luck were to run out, all of our luck can't run out at the same time..." she smiled for him...not the full-fledged smile that any of the others would offer, but for Raven, it was as bright as the sun, "...the law of averages wouldn't work that way...would it?" She turned back to the dryer and pulled out a jumble of clothes, placing them on top of the machine before digging in for more, "That's what I do, anyway..." she said casually.

And maybe, he thought, that was why it was so easy to admit his fears to her? Maybe because she didn't try to issue empty promises about how everything would work out and didn't even really try just to make him feel better, but somehow managed to do just that anyway by just being honest with him.

"Thanks, Raven," he told her, turning back to the pile of clothes she had been folding. "I think I'll try that..."

By the time Raven turned around, her arms loaded with the clothes she had just removed from the drier it was to find that Robin had folded nearly all of the clothes she had left in the 'to fold' pile.

Raven spilled the clothes from her arms onto the table between them and stared at him for a moment, her arms folded over her chest, "Well," she told him, slightly amused, "I didn't say you could take my method of coping, did I?"

Robin laughed, but continued folding...even if he didn't even dare a glance at the 'intimates' pile.

He'd let her do those herself.

xxxxxxxx

Thanks: (1) As always, a whole horde of thanks to Jurodan : The Beta-Man who took time out of his very jam packed schedule to give this Moment the once over. AND, a super special thanks to the wonderful authoress Guardian Kysra who was fantastic enough to serve as "plot-beta" for me.
(2) I have been replying to all the reviews and placing those responses on my 'emsscraps' journal so that I don't get kicked off or suspended from this account. So, go there to find the responses. The address is the http colon slash slash and then this emsscraps . livejournal . com / (without the spaces) You'll have to look at the titles of the journals for the one that says "Review Responses for +It Only Takes A Moment: First Snow+"
And PLEASE, please comment on there, just a quick little, "I read this!" or "I found this!" so that I know that you guys found it, okay?

SPECIAL A/N: The last part of this Moment went through like three different directions. I wrote out until a certain scene and then stopped when I realized I didn't like where it was going and went back to a certain part in what I had and started over like three times. SO...I'm going to post up the "Alternate Scenes" for this Moment up on my emsscraps journal, too. So, you go to the same address as above and look for the journal titled "Alternate Scenes for +It Only Takes A Moment: Sleepless+" If you guys read them and enjoy it, then let me know, k?