Author's Note: And so we embark on another fanfic adventure! This opens after "Trouble In Tokyo", but as if the kiss never happened and the conversation on Tokyo Tower was the end of the RobStar-ness. This fanfic will cover the horrifically awkward and adorable journey to RobStar becoming RobStar, with a healthy dose of BBRae mixed in as well. Hope you enjoy the ride! Be prepared for a sequel too, which will be a lot darker and heavier than this one.

Updates will be at least once a week, probably more like every 4/5 days.

Songs: I generally post songs that I feel are relevant or inspired me in some way for some chapters of my fanfics. Sometimes I give you particular points where they become relevant, other times, if it's more of an in-general thing, I will just list the song. For this chapter, it's just a general one.
"Stole My Heart" - Little & Ashley

The songs and other info about the fic is posted on my Tumblr (see the link on my profile page)

Chapter 1

We're heroes, Starfire…

We don't have time for this…

A hero is what I am, Starfire, and if you don't like it-

She awoke with a start, sitting up abruptly. With a moan, she cradled her head in her hands, closing her eyes and trying to breathe through the memories.

It was now late May -nearly two months since her and Robin's conversation- but the nightmares still plagued her. She replayed the words over and over again, unable to escape it even in sleep. It did not help that Robin was actively avoiding her attempts to discuss the topic further. As soon as they had arrived home, he had returned to normal behavior as if nothing had happened, and, when she mentioned it, he would always suddenly get very busy or need to do the working out or the repairing of his motorcycle. She was beginning to fear that was the last they would ever discuss it; that her flying away crying would be the end.

Looking out the window with a heavy sigh, she saw a faint hint of light creeping across the sky. It was a little earlier than she usually awoke, but at least it was not the middle of the night this time.

She floated up out of bed, giving up on getting back to sleep, and grabbed her bathroom bag and a fresh uniform. She walked slower as she passed Robin's room on her way to the bathroom, but she did not hear any movement. This was to be expected, however. No one else was ever up this early.

Which was why she was surprised when she placed her hand on the scanner panel to open the bathroom door, and it blinked red and beeped up at her. She stared at it, puzzled, and then leapt back with a small yelp as the door slid open in front of her.

"Sorry," Robin chuckled, "didn't mean to scare ya."

She wanted to respond. She knew she should respond. She was simply standing there, staring at him stupidly. But he was not in uniform, and that always seemed to make her throat rather tight.

He was wearing what she assumed must be his regular sleeping attire: a t-shirt and boxers. The t-shirt was plain and white, and the boxers were white with blue stripes. Not that it made a significant difference to her; she was trying not to look anyway.

Instead, she focused her attention on his hair, which he was ruffling dry with a white towel.

"You okay?" he inquired, pausing in his drying to look at her quizzically.

"Mhmm," she squeaked, swallowing stiffly through the lump in her throat.

His eyebrows pulled together beneath the haphazard mess of dark, damp hair.

"Uh…alright," he replied skeptically, throwing the towel over his shoulder and grabbing his bag off the counter. "All yours!" he chorused, sliding past her and down to his room.

She darted into the bathroom, placing her hand on the interior panel to lock the door, and leaned against the cold metal, hyperventilating. Of course it would be Robin, with his pajamas and his wet hair. His accursed wet hair.

She slammed her head against the door and stared mournfully up at the ceiling for a few moments before letting out a small groan and preparing to shower. Placing her purple bathroom bag on the counter, she pulled out her shampoo, conditioner, and the orchid-scented body wash Raven had purchased for her for Christmas, knowing that they were her favorite flower. She clicked the top open and lifted it to her nose, breathing in the fresh, floral scent with a happy sigh.

Setting the various bottles on the shower shelves, she twisted the silver knob and adjusted the temperature to her preference. Once the water was hot enough, she pulled a towel out of the closet and hung it up on the hook on the wall before slipping out of her pajamas and into the steaming stream. The water soaked through her hair as she pushed her head into the flow, closing her eyes as it traversed her face.

She always enjoyed taking showers; it was such a lovely place to think. So warm and quiet, the sound of the water splashing at her feet bringing an odd peace. It carried with it the added bonus of being somewhere she was sure to be alone, which also helped. Not that she did not like sharing her thoughts and concerns with Raven, who was always a very good listener and full of thoughtful advice, but some things were simply too difficult or embarrassing to say out loud. Her growing doubts about Robin, for instance. Raven would no doubt be very encouraging, but, in a way Starfire did not exactly understand, that sometimes made her feel worse.

After she had lathered, rinsed, repeated, and rinsed off all the foamy remnants of body wash, she turned the shower off and reached out to grab her towel. She dried herself off slightly in the shower before pulling back the curtain and stepping out onto the grey bath mat, her feet leaving dark, matted footprints. Twisting her hair up in the towel, she grabbed her uniform from the counter and slipped into it, the humidity making the process take a little longer than normal, before repacking her bag and heading out the door.

When she got to her room, she put her pajamas in the laundry receptacle and placed her bathroom bag back in her closet, allowing the towel time to soak up as much moisture from her hair as possible. After a few minutes of various cleaning activities around her room, she unwrapped her hair to find it only slightly damp and hung the towel over the back of her desk chair to dry.

She then wandered out of her room barefoot, her usual fashion around the tower lately. Raven had asked her about this transition, and Starfire had, reluctantly and incredibly uncomfortably, explained. Robin, while still shorter than her, had grown slightly, and they were very nearly the same height when he was wearing boots and she was not. Luckily, Robin did not seem to have noticed her forgoing her shoes.

The living room door slid open, and she was greeted with empty silence and faint light as she walked to the cooling box of food. She had thought Robin would already be there, but it was possible he was already in the garage with his motorcycle. Perhaps he was avoiding her before she was even there now.

"Yogurt?" a voice said, and she smiled in spite of her recent thoughts. "That's not breakfast," Robin scolded as he came up behind her, peering into the box over her shoulder.

"Well, I am not allowed to utilize the cooking devices since I ignited the frozen pizza," she reminded him.

He chuckled lightly. "That's probably mostly our fault," he allowed. "We should have told you to take the plastic off first."

He took the yogurt out of her hand and gently shifted her out of the way as he began digging around in the box himself. After a few moments, he leaned out, several food items tucked under his arm.

"Come on," he beckoned as he closed the door and grabbed her arm, gently tugging her over to the counter. "We're gonna make pancakes."

"Robin," she warned, following nonetheless, "I do not believe I can make-"

"I'll teach you," he interrupted, placing the ingredients on the counter in front of him as they came to a stop.

"Okay," he began, linking his hands together and stretching to crack his fingers, "first we need a bowl."

She broke into a wide smile, happy she could be of assistance in some regard. She stretched over top of Robin, opening a cupboard above him and pulling out a large, plastic bowl.

"Thanks," he said, but he looked at her strangely as he took the bowl from her.

"What?" she inquired, fearing she had some form of disfigurement on her face.

"Nothing," he murmured, but continued to survey her critically, "it's just…are you…shorter?"

She was momentarily confused, her forehead furrowing, and then giggled as she understood.

"No," she smiled, shaking her head, "I believe you are merely taller."

His head moved back slightly in a gesture of surprise before his head dropped to look down at her feet.

"Oh, you're not wearing shoes!" he pointed out. "That's what it is."

"Yes," she conceded, "but you are also taller."

"Really?" he asked with a tone of surprise and pride.

She nodded, hoping he did not realize that the two things were related.

"Well, I should hope so," he murmured, turning back to the ingredients on the counter. "I am 18 now after a-"

"You are what?" she blurted, the hurt and surprise evident in her voice.

He turned toward her, his face confused and concerned. "Uh…I'm 18 now," he reiterated. "Did I not mention that?"

"No,"-she shook her head, her eyes dropping-"you did not. And I do not know the day of your birth, so I-"

"Um, yea," he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, "I…I don't really tell people that…"

"Why not?" she pried, not able to understand why someone would do such a thing.

"Well, I…" he faded off with an awkward sigh, "I just- Well, I-I worry-"

"You are concerned it would assist in discovering your identity," she finished, phrasing it as a statement rather than a question.

He nodded with a small, nervous smile.

"Well, I would never do such a thing," she assured firmly, dismissing his fears with a wave of her hand.

"You wouldn't?" he reaffirmed skeptically.

She shook her head stubbornly. "No, Robin, I would not attempt to discover who you are. I do not wish to know if it is not your choice to tell me."

He smiled warmly. "Well…thanks," he murmured, and she thought she saw a faint blush on his cheeks. "Ya know," he stretched teasingly, "I don't know when yours is either."

She forced herself not to smile as she crossed her arms in front of her. "I do not believe it is fair of you to ask me my day of birth when you will not confide in me yours."

He laughed, no doubt seeing through her faux irritation. "Fair enough," he sighed, lifting his hands in the air in surrender.

"So, pancakes!" he began, opening a cupboard and pulling out a yellow box. "First, we need...hmm…four cups of this."

"What is that?"

"Pancake mix," he explained briefly as he reached into a drawer. He then held a silver container of some sort over the bowl and began pouring the powder inside.

"Uh, Robin?" She hesitated, pointing at the mixture. "I do not recall the pancakes being quite so…dry," she critiqued cautiously, not wishing to offend him.

He laughed loudly, and she blushed with confused embarrassment.

"They're not done yet," he griped, shaking his head.

"Oh…" she trailed off, peering around his arm as he reached for a plastic container she recognized. "Milk!" she exclaimed, pointing at it and jumping up and down. "The pancakes contain milk?"

He nodded and set the milk down in front of her as he offered the silver device to her. "You wanna add it?"

She took a half-step back, eyeing it suspiciously. "I-I do not know-"

"Here," he sighed, grabbing her hand and placing the instrument in it.

She blushed furiously, grateful that he moved to stand behind her so he could not see.

"You just hold it over the bowl," he described, moving her hand appropriately, "fill it up to the top"-he poured the milk in-"and dump it in the bowl."

"I simply pour it in?" she clarified.

"Mhmm," he confirmed, and she turned her wrist, the milk cascading over the mound of powder.

"Why do you not add the milk directly to the mixture?" she pondered.

"Because you have to add a certain amount," he explained, filling the capsule once again, "and this cup allows you to measure it."

"Oh, glorious!" she chirped as he lightly pushed her wrist again, and she turned it the remainder of the way to pour another portion of liquid into the bowl. "How many do we include?" she asked, turning over her right shoulder to look at him.

Her breath abruptly stalled as she found herself inches away from his face. He had been standing much closer than she had realized, and she felt heat rising up into her cheeks at the proximity.

"Uh…" he stammered, clearing his throat and leaning away, releasing her hand as he did so, "that's-that's all."

Pain cut across her chest as he pulled the cup out of her hand, placing it in the sink before sliding a plastic container across the counter.

"Two eggs," he explained stiffly, and she frowned at the sudden change in his demeanor, however expected it was.

"And then you just mix it up and you're ready to go!" he finished, turning and smiling at her.

She was still frowning, and his face fell in response.

"What?" he queried, his eyebrows pushing together.

"Nothing," she sighed, knowing he would not discuss it even if she were to broach the subject.

He eyed her skeptically as she reached across him to retrieve a spoon from one of the drawers.

"It's actually easier if you use a fork," he corrected, taking the spoon from her and replacing it in the drawer.

Her bitterness softened slightly at the touch, and she smiled faintly down into the bowl as he spun the increasingly soggy mixture around the sides.

He grabbed a cooking vessel from one of the lower drawers and placed it on the fire he ignited with the twist of a dial.

"Can you grab me a spatula?" he requested casually and he poured the mixture into three pools.

She blinked rapidly, glancing nervously around the kitchen. "Uh…"

"Right," he laughed, pulling the drawer in front of her open. "This"-he brandished a flattened, black stick-"is a spatula. You use it to flip the pancakes."

"A…spatula?" she repeated, testing the word on her tongue.

He nodded, placing the device underneath one of the pancakes and tossing it in one, quick motion.

She squealed with delight, rushing over to hover at his shoulder. "What a magical device!"

"You want a go?" he proposed, lifting the spatula in front of her face.

She clapped frantically underneath her chin, bouncing up and down on the tile.

"I'll take that as a yes," he chuckled, placing it in her hand.

"How do I perform this feat?" she asked excitedly, hardly able to stay on the ground.

"Okay, slide the flat end underneath one of the pancakes."

She obeyed, gingerly wriggling the plastic beneath the yellow circle.

"Then you lift it up a little bit and gently-"

"Oh, dear…" she murmured, gazing up at the pancake affixed to the ceiling. She wilted, her eyes dropping to his shoes. "I suppose I can no longer use this device either…"

Robin broke into peals of laughter, clutching the side of the counter for support.

She stared at him, shocked she was not being reprimanded for mishandling the spatula.

"Oh, oh wow," he breathed through the fading laughs. "Starfire?" he began, a huge smile spread across his still-chuckling face, "promise me something?"

She tilted her head inquisitively.

"Don't ever, ever change," he wheezed before launching into laughter once again.

It was rather contagious, albeit confusing, and she quickly found herself laughing with him.

After awhile, they sighed to a stop and Robin pulled a plate down from the shelves and slid the two remaining pancakes onto it.

"There's mustard in the door," he said, handing her the plate and pointing toward the cooling box.

"You are not partaking?" she posed, guiltily staring down at her pancakes.

"I'll make some more," he shrugged, already pouring puddles.

Satisfied that she was not eating Robin's breakfast, she pulled the mustard from the cooling box and settled herself on the opposite side of the counter, watching Robin flip his pancakes.

"How will we remove it?" she mused, staring up at the rogue pancake.

"It'll come down eventually," he disregarded, settling next to her with his own plate of pancakes. He adorned his with syrup, something absolutely incomprehensible to her.

They ate in relative silence, both of them taking occasional glances at the ceiling to see how the pancake was faring. When she was finished, Robin took her plate and his own and laid them in the sink.

"So," he said, coming back to stand next to her, "you wanna help me work on the R-Cycle? I'm trying to improve the handling."

"I do not believe I will be of much assistance with that," she evaded, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

"Well, I-I didn't mean-" he stumbled awkwardly, scratching at the back of his head, "I mean, you wouldn't have to help with the handling or anything, I just thought- Well, I just kind of thought you might wanna…hang out…"

She smiled down at the counter before lifting her eyes to his. "Certainly, Robin," she answered, his body noticeably relaxing as she slid off her chair and walked with him toward the door.

"Morning, ya'll!"

Cyborg and Beast Boy ambled through the main door as her and Robin were on their way to the stairwell.

"Ooooh, pancakes!" Beast Boy squealed, rushing over to the counter. "Aww, man!" he moaned, staring mournfully at the empty cooking device, "Where's mine?"

"Actually, Beast Boy," Robin said, flinging a birdarang from seemingly nowhere. It returned to his hand just as Beast Boy yelped with surprise. "I think there's one left."

"DUDE!" he cried, tearing at the pancake on his face.

She laughed hysterically, clutching her stomach with one hand while letting Robin guide her out the door with the other. Beast Boy's tirade could be heard even as the door closed behind them, and she continued laughing riotously as Robin led her down the stairs.

"Um…Starfire?" he said softly, releasing her hand as he stopped and turned toward her.

She met his gaze, her giggling ceasing at his serious tone.

"March 20th," he whispered, flashing a shy smile.

Her eyebrows wrinkled together for a moment of confusion before she returned his smile with a glowing one of her own.

"June 4th," she answered, and his smile widened back at her as they continued down the stairs.

Author's Note: Why is Starfire's birthday June 4th? Because nobody seems to know when her birthday is exactly, and the episode "Transformation" takes place after "Date With Destiny", which is assumedly in April/May due to the fact that it takes place at prom. Considering transformation seems like something that would happen on a Tamaranean's 16th birthday, I arbitrarily picked June 4th.

If you have to ask me why Robin's birthday is March 20th...well, yea.