I'm actually stunned by my reviews-- all good? Why thank you all! Especially Midori Aoi for the extensiveness, and Dark Shadow 01 for being the first :) It's very encouraging; I've always been a bit unsure of my writing.

I'm looking for... some help? I've worked up til a 5th Chapter for this story, and I'd like another set of eyes and a different brain to go over them, see if it needs editing, rewording, if the plot is flowing OK, should anything be added or omitted. Just let me know if you're interested via email or a review, I'll get to you within a day.

When Raven returned to the table, there was one solitary occupant already there, with wet hair and a towel draped over uniformed shoulders.

"Good morning, Raven."

"Good morning, Robin." Raven wasn't accustomed to having company this early. "What are you doing up at 5 in the morning?" Rarer yet was her time spent one on one with the Boy Wonder.

"Give me a little credit, Raven," he said, smiling lopsidedly. "I'm usually up by now, just locked up in the evidence room, getting a morning workout, or using the internet for this business we call hero. Today, however," he gestured to the paper in his hands. "I felt like using a more old fashioned approach. What's your excuse?"

"I'm usually up by now," she mumbled. Just no one ever seems to know, she thought with satisfaction. The kettle had kept her water hot, so she prepared another cup of tea and sat across from Robin. She watched his eyes dart from column to column, searching for connections only he could see. The crinkling sound the paper made as he turned its pages were a tolerated intrusion on Raven's silence.

His brow furrowed with more intensity with every section. Eventually, he wadded it up and threw it in the garbage, mumbling something about inferiority and resources. He slumped down in his chair and heaved a sigh. He looked around the kitchen, the living room, glanced at the numerous windows showcasing the lessening of the night sky. Then his eyes settled on Raven.

"So… how do you… what is there…" he said as the wheels in his brain struggled to create syntax. "I might as well put myself back in the evidence room. What do you do every morning around here?"

"I find ways to pass the time…" she said quietly. Her hands were warmed, wrapped around the mug. She allowed the silence to persist and her eyelids to droop.

Robin took advantage of her peace and indulged himself to study. Recently, it had become an odd impulse to seek out Raven, and until now he'd been able to overcome it. His eyes scrutinized her serenity, sitting in a near meditative state, somewhere not here with him. He noted the particular way her fingers wove around her mug. The simplicity of her hair style, her lack of make-up, her unassuming violet orbs looking right back—he was caught.

"Sorry, where are my manners? It's just… you, Raven, I…" Robin bit his lower lip, regretting the weakness that had lead him here. "I don't know you very well…"

"And you think you will find answers on the outside?" Raven cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, but 'twere Fate so kind."

Robin mentally chastised himself for being indiscreet. Knowing of her father and the way she carried on existing, he should have gone about this differently. Great, the one time I should've had a 'battle plan' and didn't…

Raven, too, was kicking herself for being so unkind. Her face betrayed nothing, but her hand was the traitor. It reached out and touched his and she said, "But, hey, maybe you know more than you give yourself credit. You learned from the greatest detective of all, right?"

Robin faltered in his reply. "Right," he said with a crooked grin. He'd taken more from her statement than she'd intended; a challenge had been declared, a gauntlet thrown. He never backed down from a challenge.

The recent recession in crime had given Robin leisure time he was not accustomed to. He hated it; he felt without a purpose. He'd spent so much time thinking of higher causes, he hadn't given life basics much consideration. So, after relentlessly pursuing any lead and being told in triplicate what a fine job the Titans had done in ridding the city of evil so please leave the police force to its job, he sat listening to a cd, alone in his bedroom. He, Robin, Dick Grayson, had forgotten how to amuse himself.

As music blasted out of his headphones, he let his mind return to Raven. "But, hey, maybe you know more than you give yourself credit. You learned from the greatest detective of all, right?" Clearly an invitation to investigate her. But, Raven was very private, secretive even, so this would not be so simple. Detective work.

Robin thought first of what facts he knew. "Her name is Raven and she's a teenage girl. What's her last name? Does she even have one? What's her age? I remember celebrating her birthday, but her age… it didn't come up. Ah, her father! An inter-dimensional demon that will apparently cause the team some trouble, but that's between just us…" Robin remembered that day, when Slade came back and forced Raven through that haunting experience. He was the one she relied on to carry her through it, to help carry the burden. "Hmm, she has psychic powers, meditates frequently. She drinks hot tea often. There's a mirror of particular importance to her… Are those all the facts I have? Geez, I better get cracking on my new case… er, go see what Raven's up to."

It was morning, once again, and he had taken the time to shower, but had then lazed around his room half dressed, considering his new task. Pulling on the rest of his uniform, he prepared himself mentally for the day to come.

In the kitchen, he found Raven once again sitting and quietly enjoying her tea, this time with a book. She didn't look up as he poured himself a glass of milk and sat across from her. He looked at the spine of her book—a book of Emily Dickinson's poetry. He cleared his throat, readying to initiate conversation.

"'Because I would not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me,'" Raven quoted. She had caught Robin off guard and kept her book in front of her face a moment longer to cover the smirk.

"They say she was crazy," Robin blurted in an effort to recover. "She would write her poems on bits of paper she would then roll up and stick in a box."

"Yes." Raven said this flatly. Robin looked expectant, but she didn't bite. She had barely completed her self-imposed chores—Beast Boy and Cyborg had indulged in a video game marathon and Starfire had made a multitude of 'champion's foods'—when she'd heard the water pipes cut off.

His mind raced, thinking out different scenarios for what he could do next. He landed a winner. "Ah, Raven, have you eaten, yet? No? Would you help me prepare waffles? Or anything, really, your choice?"

Raven eyed him suspiciously. What was he getting at? She rose from the table. "Waffles sound just fine." Robin also got out of his seat. Such an activity would be conducive to conversing, or at least observing her in everyday action. Lost in thought, he went to grab the waffle iron from off the top shelf just as Raven was. His body pressed against hers as he grabbed her wrist.

"Uh, Robin… you mind?" She felt her cheeks warm. Robin felt a jolt and snapped back to reality. He blushed and hurriedly apologized as Raven resumed action. He decided to move to gathering ingredients from the fridge.

He noticed the lack of blue fuzzies and the subtle stink he had come to expect. He noticed food properly wrapped and dated, the older items moved to the front in hopes of being eaten sooner. He grabbed the milk and the eggs and shut the door, wondering who had been on clean up last night.

Raven already had measured out the dry ingredients and was plugging in the electric beater. The lack of yuck in the fridge had piqued Robin's curiosity. He looked around at the counters and the floor—they seemed to sparkle. He regarded the way Raven was carefully working. He was beginning to see something…

"Robin, please set those down so I can use them."

"Ah, right, I'll measure the milk out." As he poured the milk in a cup, she cracked eggs in a small glass bowl. He watched her pick out a small piece of shell from the white. Adding it all to the dry ingredients, Robin obligingly beat the mix and Raven turned on the waffle iron. Before long, there was a sizable stack, and two sets of feet could be heard emerging from bedrooms—another set doubtlessly floating.

"I smell waffles!" Cyborg yelled cheerfully from the doorway to the living room. He hurried into the kitchen followed by Beast Boy and Starfire. "I'll set the table."

"I shall assist," Starfire said, and retrieved a carafe of orange juice from the refrigerator. "Oh? Where is the pudding of sadness?"

"It's gone at last? Star, you made that pudding over a month ago…" Beast Boy plopped down unceremoniously and propped his feet up on a nearby counter.

Raven nearly winced, but then remembered the care taken to disinfect every surface that he could've tread upon so that he could do just such a thing without worry of harming food. She inhaled as she turned around with the serving platter piled high. She lingered a moment, holding it up high, so the waffles could hide the slow grin spreading across her face. There before her was her family, having set the table, getting ready to eat food she'd prepared. Robin was setting down a bowl of cut strawberries in the middle of the table, smiling at her over his shoulder.

"Come on and sit down, Raven. Everything's ready…" he said and gestured toward the table and smiling friends. Robin waited for her to sit then he pushed in her chair and sat to her left. That last part was threatening to undo all her hard work to keep that smile from resurfacing.

Well, there it is, another chapter gone and done. So tell me what you think, good or bad, I'll take it all in.

Obviously, this is a simple sort of story. I haven't really planned any fights, because I'm not really that great at writing action scenes, yet, so I'm trying to work aronud that for now. I had another version of chapter 2 that revolved around a fight, but it seemed too out of place, and elements were left as loose ends because I wasn't even interested...

Thanks to all that have reviewed thus far. I'm not too busy, right now, so I'll take requests. If you think anything is lacking in this story, I definitely want to hear about it. Sometimes I don't get it right 'on paper' because I have it set in my head great already and I miss things...