Second chapter…my first second chapter…Sorry about the formatting problems of the first one; I can't figure out how to double space…But anyway, thanks for reviewing and I hope you enjoy this!

Disclaimer: Don't own Teen Titans. Do own DVD of Spider-man 2. Finally.

Robin folded back the blankets, trying to make his movements smooth so as not to disrupt Star's slumber. He was having a hard time of it, however, as his hand was shaking somewhat violently. He didn't understand it; this was Starfire, for heaven's sake. His friend. His best friend. The one who was always there for him, without fail, no matter what. Why was he feeling so nervous about just…checking on her while she slept? Yeah, that was it. He was her friend, and her leader; he had a right to keep a diligent watch. This justification made him feel a little better about his impulsive action; however, his resolve faltered when he felt the back of his hand brush against something smooth as water…like satin…

Wait a minute…a little too much like satin. Robin pulled the rest of the comforter down to reveal – a pillow. An ivory satin pillow, lying lengthwise under the blankets. He stared at it for a moment, caught between annoyance, bewilderment, and worry.

"Robin?" He froze, his heart turning to lead and dropping to the pit of his stomach at the sound of the voice behind him. "Why have you become so fascinated with my pillow?"

Starfire. She had been awake, and out of her bed, the entire time. He turned slowly to face her, looking like a combination between a guilty thief and a fish out of water as he opened and closed his mouth silently at her. She sat on her padded window seat, wearing a long, royal-blue flannel nightgown. Thin white lace lined the neckline and the long sleeves, which flared a little at her wrists. It was a little big for her; he supposed Raven had lent it to her for the colder weather. The large, stretched-out v-neck was draped unevenly onto her delicate frame, revealing one smooth shoulder and half of her collarbone. He found himself having to tear his eyes away from the spot, choosing instead to focus on the violet drapes just over her bare shoulder. That particular color of blue on her, combined with the subtle shows of skin, did strange things to his heartbeat; and that scared him a little, especially since he had just been caught sneaking about her room in the middle of the night. He finally met her eyes, expecting suspicion and maybe even anger. What he found, however, was amusement. She giggled heartily, surprising him.

"Do not feel bad, Robin. I did not even know you were in here until a moment ago. So, you were not the only one lacking in observational skills."

He gave her a wry grin as he approached the window seat. "I still got it, then," he said with exaggerated bravado, sitting down next to her. "What are you doing up so late?"

"I am watching the snow, of course," she answered brightly, laying a slender hand lightly against the icy window and pressing her forehead up to the glass. The lights from the top of the tower illuminated thousands of gently falling snowflakes, swirling gracefully as a soft winter breeze stirred through the air. Starfire adored the snow. She said they didn't have it on Tameran; that the closest thing they had to snow was the annual dustfall. And that, she had assured him, was not nearly as pleasant to experience.

She turned from the window, raising a single, tiny eyebrow at him. "But I could ask you the same question, could I not? What in X'hal's name could bring you into my bedroom at this hour of the morning?"

Robin smiled sheepishly and produced his gift bag, which he had hidden behind his back the moment he heard Star's voice. "I'm playing Santa. You know, filling all of your stockings. It's kind of a tradition with us; I wanted it to be a surprise for you."

She looked at him strangely, seeming genuinely confused. "But, Robin…why do you creep into everyone's room at nighttime as if dependent on the cover of darkness? We all know Santa does not exist, so in the morning it would be obvious that you have filled our stockings overnight. You need not act in secret; would it not be easier to simply deliver your presents to us in daylight, without having to slink along the floor?"

He cringed; she had been awake longer than she had let on. He wondered if she had seen the exaggerated secret-agent moves he had thrown in to entertain himself. Blushing a little in embarrassment, he imagined her laughing silently by the window, watching as he rolled dramatically under the beam of the surveillance camera on her wall (which was disabled, anyway; the cameras in the Titan's bedrooms were only switched on during emergency situations).

"That's not the point, Star. Everyone knows it's me; in fact, the other three just leave their doors unlocked so I can get in," he explained, drawing one knee up to his chest and scratching at a scuff mark on the toe of his boot. "Sometimes, it's just fun to…pretend you don't know that Santa isn't real. You know, to wake up on Christmas morning and have your stocking 'magically' full."

"But is was not by magic that my stocking was filled. I watched you fill it by hand."

"Yes, I know, but…even though we know better, we like to make believe that we don't. Sort of…escape, back into our childhood when we believed in things like magic."

Star looked thoughtful. She leaned back against the window, fingering the ends of her hair absently. She wore it in two loosely-braided pigtails, with a few soft, lightly-curled tendrils escaping around her face. Robin had never seen her hair that way, but he decided immediately that he liked it. Sometimes, all that hair, gorgeous as it was, obscured her face a little too much.

"So," she began. He could tell she was choosing her words carefully; an adorable little crease was appearing between her eyebrows, like it always did when she was thinking seriously about something. Or when she was worried about him. "So…you begin life believing in a myth of magic and sheer impossibility, and later dispel that myth as you reach maturity, only to regress back to it while still possessing the knowledge of its true unreality?"

Robin stared at her, understanding her confusion. "Uh…yes?" She giggled at his uncertainty, and he smiled. Star could turn the simplest things into mind-bending complexity. "I feel like it's important, to relive your childhood," he admitted wistfully. "Especially the team…they all had to grow up so fast. They need things like this."

"And you?"

"What?"

"What about you, Robin? We all had to take on a certain level of maturity at early ages, yes, but you…Robin, sometimes it seems that you were never a child at all."

He looked up. There it was; the line between her eyebrows. She was worrying again. What could he tell her? That the death of his parents squeezed the last ounce of childhood out of him? That Batman had expected him to act like an adult, and had treated him as one? That four precious lives, including hers, lay balanced in the palm of his hand every day, and that he couldn't afford to be just a 16-year-old kid?

He couldn't tell her that. She would be touched; she would be saddened; she might even cry for him, he knew. And he didn't want her crying for him. Star didn't need any more reasons to be anxious on his account.

"Who says I'm not a child?" he asked airily. She raised her eyebrow and half-grinned; it was her rare expression of sarcastic doubt. Rare, but still familiar; he had all of her expressions permanently catalogued in his mind. Acting on impulse, he grabbed a small purple quilted pillow from beside him on the window seat. With an immature cry of "Ha!" he whacked her in the shoulder with it, rolling off the window seat and ducking dramatically out of view. Slowly, he raised himself up until only the top of his head and his eyes were visible. After darting a few theatrical glances back and forth, he looked straight at her rather shocked face and waggled his eyebrows. "Pretty childish, huh?"

She laughed then, covering her mouth to stifle the jubilant sound. Then she narrowed her eyes a little and bit her lip, grinning (that was her 'sly idea' face; one of his favorites). She grabbed another pillow, rose up onto her knees on the seat, and slowly drew her arm back as if preparing to pitch a fastball…

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To be continued…(chapter stories are fun!)