The leotard actually evolves out of my first day of fighting crime alongside Robin. Back in the day, it was a dress or gown of sorts that I wore. A swaying blue robe and silver sashes.

I believe it was a bank robbery that we needed to foil. Robin was in his prime, as always. He danced around the criminals with his bullet-deflecting staff of his while I stood in the corner and twitched my arms and tried to do magic spells. It was rather unexciting. I yawned a few times.

But one crook ran for it. A crook Robin didn't see. I went after him, and for some odd reason I momentarily lost the impulse to levitate. Wham. Instant facial concussion. I had tripped on one of my sashes. I think a good few of the bank tellers laughed at my expense. To this day, that explains why a field of black telekinesis promptly ripped their hair out of their sockets.

Robin scolded me after that. For the sake of citizens' scalps everywhere, he asked me to wear a shorter skirt. I thought that was a very….cute tactic.

So I considered pants. Or maybe a pant suit. Or maybe something like what Oriental women wear in some of those Hong Kong movies I've happenstance-spied Cyborg and Beast Boy watching into the late night hours. I admire Chinese culture. They dare to be themselves in a growingly dim society such as America. Life by the toaster light and ancherperson smile. Feh.

I wanted to keep my robe. Or at least…a semblance of a robe.

Then Robin—ever the acrobat—told me about ladies' wear at circuses. What Robin happens to know about three ring circuses, I have no Azarathian clue. But leotards suddenly donned upon me as a well-thought-out choice. I checked my measurements. I sewed myself something out of homegrown materials. And….I had utter fecal matter as my result.

Turns out, Robin knows how to sew. He made me a fine first outfit. And later—after we got the Tower thanks to Cyborg's help—I found someone to mass produce me a whole wardrobe of them.

And I fell in love.

I never meant to come across as sexually alluring or exotic. A leotard gave me room to move, kept me from tripping, and allowed me the flexibility to take out or avoid crime physically if I have to.

It still does come in handy. I can't count the numerous times I've thrashed Jinx with it. Probably because I never have thrashed Jinx, but at least I've come close.

I would be proud. But pride is a waste of space. Thus, I have no egotistical attachment to my apparel. It doesn't hurt me when newspapers make fun of it or magazines display terrible pictures of my robe and blue piece or anything to that nature.

But it does annoy me right now as I stand here with Beast Boy rubbing his skull and Terra giggling and the changeling eventually uttering:

"Rather skimpy if I say so myself, Raven. Why'd you choose a leotard anyways?"

I take a deep breath and try to concentrate on my novel as I avoid his gaze from across the Main Room.

"Because if I wore a skirt, I'd have to worry about levitating over you."

"Hehehehehehe!" Terra giggles. "She sure got you there, Beast Boy!"

Robin smirks from where he prepares breakfast for himself besides the counter.

"Come on, Raven! Only I'm allowed to make jokes!" Beast Boy sticks his tongue out. "Besides….as if the underwear you'd choose to wear beneath that thing would be worth me oogling you for!"

I flip a page. "I don't wear underwear."

"………..," Beast Boy blinks. "Uhm…..y-you don't?"

I shake my head. "Not under this."

"Oh…..uhm……," he shifts where he stands.

"Beast Boy?" Terra murmurs in concern. "Is your nose bleeding?"

"Eh….-sniff-….no….exthuthe me….-sniff-….," Beast Boy hurries out of the room.

Terra runs a hand through her hair. "Okaaaay….wyyyrd…."

I take a deep breath and flip another page.

"You don't wear underwear under that?" Robin utters, making a face.

"For the last time, no….."

I look at him. I blink.

"Robin….is your nose bleeding?"