Hi, readers! Welcome to the fourth short story of the collection Tower Troubles. Feel free to send suggestions in the reviews or privately message me!

I don't own anything, and happy reading!

Robin marched into the laundry room, a dozen thoughts swirling around in his head. Today had been a weird day. The team had gotten two crime alerts that day- but when they'd gone to the supposed crime scenes, there was nothing. No mess, no residue, no culprits, no nothing. The other Titans had been content to pass it off as just a few false alarms, but Robin wasn't willing to drop it so easily, and had remained distracted since then.

Maybe there was something bigger behind it, Robin mused as he picked up a laundry basket sitting in front of the washing machine and started to head back to his room to fold them. It could be so many things. His friends had told him to just relax, that they had no solid proof that anything more sinister was behind the alerts. But years of intense training and teaching from Batman himself hadn't taught him to just drop it. Robin had no idea how to drop it.

As the door to his bedroom opened upon sending him in front of it, Robin considered the options, the possible causes of the false alarms. Sure, it was possible that it had just been a glitch, an alarm accidentally tripped. It wasn't uncommon for civilians to accidentally set something the Titans had placed as a trap to villains off. But twice?

The Teen Titans had gone public once, making a city announcement over the local broadcast, to alert the citizens to potential traps and other dangers, letting them know what to avoid. It had taken some time for it to sink into everyone's heads, but soon the people seemed to get the hang of it, even posting online and through social media to help spread the word.

It was a ploy, Robin suspected. To drain the hardworking heroes' energy on fake alerts in order to execute a bigger plan. It was always possible.

Robin set the clothing-filled basket on his bed, still thinking and contemplating. What villain would try something like that?

It couldn't be anyone like Mad Mod, Dr. Light, Mumbo, Control Freak. No, nobody like them. They were narrow-minded, focused on themselves, their own personal gain. No, this had to be a bigger bad guy, a bigger evil. Brother Blood was a strong possibility, especially since Robin nor Cyborg had a clue where his third headquarters was, or even if he'd had a chance to build another one. Or...God forbid...Slade.

But Robin didn't want to think about that. He knew if he even thought the name "Slade," he'd have to lock himself in his study and basically stalk the madman for hours in order for his haunting thoughts to be quenched.

Wait.

There was something seriously wrong with the basket of clothes he had before him.

Instead of his numerous fitted uniforms piled up in the white laundry basket, there was...underwear.

And not his, either.

Crap. Crap, crap, crap.

Robin had accidentally retrieved the girls' laundry instead of his own.

The basket before him was overflowing with small pairs of clean underwear, both bras, and the underwear you actually wear where it needs to be worn. There were modest kinds, but others were surprisingly skimpy, and made Robin feel very invasive. Robin's eyes flew open and he whirled around, his face in his hands. He'd been so distracted by the day's events, he had made this horrendous mistake.

Forget Slade, Robin thought gloomily, face burning. Star and Raven are gonna kill me first.