It Only Takes A Moment…
"It only takes a moment / For your eyes to meet and then
Your heart knows in a moment /You will never be alone again"
-"It Only Takes A Moment" (Hello, Dolly!)

A/N: Okay…before you even start to read this, you should know a little something about this project. It is not a story. Well…not really. It's not going to be a full fledged, chaptered story with a plot and everything. Basically, what it is going to be is a series of vignettes, or short one-shots that don't really have any particular connection to one another except that they will all deal with moments of conversation or just randomness between Robin and Raven. They will have some insinuation of romance, although I make no promise that there will be actual romance in any of them. Just…like it says…moments. Basically, I started thinking that Robin and Raven (admittedly, especially after the Epilogue to Tried and Tested) aren't the kind of people to fall in love out of the blue like a thunderbolt. And also the show seems to be peppered with little moments between them two. So I thought…why not explore other moments?

Some of these vignettes might at some moment make it into a story, some might not. I don't know. I have no plans for them. All I can say is that I kept getting little snippets of scenes in my head, completely random moments between the two that I thought were cute, but didn't fit into any of the stories I said I'd write. And, actually, this helps me because I get to explore their characters a little more without having to worry about making everything that happens mean something to any of the story plots I had thought up.

Right now, I've got three of these vignettes already thought up. Two of them are written. But only one of them…this first one, Talk of Dreams is actually written on the computer and ready to post. I'm going to try to make them alternate between Robin and Raven's point of view, but I think my muse likes Robin's point of view more than Raven's, so I don't know how much I can keep to that. Also, I don't usually write first person, so it'll only be through their point of view, not them speaking…oh, and since this is a project where I'm just going to let Puck (my muse, remember?) inspire whatever he wants to inspire without thinking about if it makes sense in any particular story plot line, I make no promises about this either.

So, yeah…as always…if you like a particular scene enough that you would like to see it play out more, feel free to review about it. Puck's a ham and might just inspire me to more of that particular scene if you guys insist on it.

However, as it stands, the plan is to do however many of these little vignettes it takes and maybe in the end, there might be a real romantic one…again…no promises. (evil grin)

Oh, and in case you couldn't tell, It Only Takes a Moment is the title of the entire collection, while each 'chapter' or Part will have an individual title as well.

I: Talk of Dreams…
By Em

"I talk of dreams/ Which are the children of an idle brain/ Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,"
-Romeo & Juliet, William Shakespeare (Mercutio)

He refused to turn on the light. He could get from the elevator into the kitchen without having to turn on the lights and fiddle with Cyborg's system. And of course it had nothing to do with the fact that he wasn't certain he remembered the right code…

"Oomph," he mumbled as he bumped into the sofa table.

He shifted to the right and tried to measure his step so he could walk around it, the kitchen had to be in that direction, but when he shifted his feet, he stubbed his bare toe with something on the ground, "Fer cryin' out…" he cursed under his breath, frustrated. By the time he had nearly knocked over the lamp, he was about ready to chance the lights and ready to blame it all entirely on Cyborg should he get it wrong. 'Would serve him right to be woken up at 4 in the morning...' he thought unforgivingly. 'Damnhis paranoia of having to change the code every other night…'

He just barely skirted the coffee table, 'How did I get on the other side of the sofa?', and had managed to walk a few inches when he tangled his ankle in the cables from the gamestation. "Ricket…fracket…get my hands…" he tried to calmly disentangle himself from the cables but only managed to somehow get himself more wrapped up in them so he pulled all he harder, "…swine…monkey boy…I'll show him…bananas…" he continued to ramble in as if he were quite content with the ideas of torture that were running through his head, finally chuckling ominously when the he tugged the remote free and another thought occurred to him, "…weeks!" he decided, then shook his head, "…months!" he amended, finally almost crying out in triumph when he managed to stand without any cables around any part of him.

He squared his shoulders and began to walk toward the kitchen when suddenly the light from the kitchen turned on and five things happened at once: first, the sudden action surprised him and he tensed for battle. Unfortunately, the second thing that happened was that the light blinded him, so thirdly, he didn't watch as his foot stepped into the third controller he hadn't gotten stuck in the last time and so of course, fourthly, the control got irreparably wrapped around his feet and fifthly, he fell right on his ass.

To his credit, he recovered quickly. His honed reflexes allowed him to react almost on instinct to blink the sudden brightness from his eyes and stand (as fluidly as he could stand with a controller still wrapped around his left foot) while reaching for his bo-staff at his belt. Unfortunately, it wasn't until he touched nothing but cloth and bare skin that he realized he had just woken up and come down for a snack without thinking to dress for any possible problem.

"Superman boxers?"

Robin just barely managed to avoid smacking his head with the flat of his hand as he realized who it was that had turned on the light. Honestly, he would've preferred for it to have been Dr. Light or...hell, anyone else that had seen his embarrassing lack of grace.

And then what she had actually said filtered through to his consciousness and he blushed straight through to his roots. Still not having looked up to see her face, his eyesight fell onto his own clothing…or, lack of clothing for that matter, for he had been so tired that night that he hadn't bothered to dress in anything more than his boxers when he had emerged from his shower and had promptly fallen asleep.And, of course, he had been so disoriented and disturbed by his dream that he had walked out of his oppressively stuffy room without even considering what he was wearing. As he realized that he was, in fact, wearing the Superman boxers that Beast Boy had gotten him as a gag gift last Christmas, he wondered when he was going to wake up and realize that it had all been one of those horrible dreams like walking in to take a test naked.

"I would've thought you more the Spongebob Squarepants type."

He briefly had considered playing it as if he had been sleepwalking, but then figured, she was an empath…she wouldn't have bought it. And then it occurred to him...she was goading him! He realized it by the tone of her voice. She was actually trying to get him even more embarassed. In essence, she teasing him. He didn't thinkshe did teasing. The thought settled like jello in his stomach. Usually, she restrained her sarcasm to reactions of some other person's comments, but he had spoken not a word and she could've just ignored it and said nothing. He knew there was something he should be thinking about, but he was too groggy and that unsettled jello feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn't going away, so he figured, 'Hey, why not?' If she wanted to play it that way, he could play along.

He looked up at her squarely in the face and shook his head. "Spongebob is only for special occassions," he admitted sarcastically. She was standing against the kitchen counter, a steaming mug of something in her hands, a slight smirk on her lips. He thought he saw a bit of amusement in her eyes, but since he was still seeing spots from the sudden flash of lights, he figured he could be wrong. "Damn, Raven," he muttered as he blinked a bit more to get rid of them. "Did you have to flash the lights on like that?" he asked on a bit of a whine.

She chuckled and the sound was low as if she were trying to hide it from him, but he heard it. He watched herwalk to the wall and with a press of buttons on the keypad, the overhead lights turned off leaving only the much warmer and less bright light over the stove. He sighed. 'Better,' he thought as he started towalk toward her.

"Let me guess," her voice broke into the silence, "You forgot the code again?" she asked.

He glared at her and would have answered her, too, with something just as witty and sarcastic had it not been for the fact that he had apparently walked the length of the controller cablewithout remembering that it was still wrapped around his ankle. When it pulled his foot enough to almost make him fall again, he sighed loudly.'Of course,' he thought as he bent to remove it, only to find it disentangle itself from his ankle and settle back innocuously against the gamestation. He looked up at her. "Thanks."

She shrugged. "Least I could do."

"Actually," he started, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge to peer hopelessly into it. "The least you could do is pretend like this never happened."

He chanced a hopefull glanceat her only to find that she was back at the counter andfacing him. To his dismay, she shook her head. "The Boy Wonder in Superman Boxers?" She grinned behind the raised cup she still held close to her face as if she were basking in its warmth. "That's imprinted in my mind forever now…"

He leaned on the fridge's door and raised a brow. He allowed himself to look at what she was wearing. It wasn't anything embarrassing. And she wasn't in her uniform.'I guess that answers the question as to whether or not she sleeps in it,'he mused. It was, however, a pyjama set in a dark royal blue satin that fell in soft waves over her body and seemed to ripple a little with her movements and her breath. It was perfectly decent...and yet, utterly decadent. "Satin?" He let his look show that it wasn't entirely displeasing. "I didn't know you went for the satin look."

She raised her own eyebrow and put the cup down. "What did you think I slept in?" she challenged, "A t-shirt and socks?" and as if to give him a chance to look at the whole picture, she shifted until she sat on the chair, gracefully. She shrugged and the satin was moving against her again. "Just because I don't do fluff doesn't mean I like to be uncomfortable."

Realizing that his comment had backfired he decided to focus on his snack and decided on some milk from the fridge, remembering to make certain it wasn't expired. And as heplaced the jug on the counter, he spared her a sideways glance. "Certainly looks comfortable at that," he mumbled, his back to her as he sought out a clean glass. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smirk, and decided he better get some cookies too.

"Milk and cookies?" she asked. "Must've been a doozie."

He grunted as he dug around the back of the fridge where they hid them from Beast Boy. "Pretty Bad," he admitted as he brought out the emergency Oreos they had learned to hide inan oversizedcan of spam. He opened it and automatically offered her one. To his surprise, she reached in and took one, bringing it thoughtfully up to her lips.

"You?" he asked, dunking the cookie in the glass and hurrying it to his mouth before it dripped. He hadn't bothered to sit down but leaned on the counter on his elbows.

She nodded as she nibbled on the cookie, but didn't seem apt to say anymore. So, he let the silence grow between them. There was always something comfortable about the silences between himself and Raven, he realized as he munched absently on cookies. They never felt they had to fill it with useless chatter or meaningless words. It was never awkward. And so, for awhile, they just ate quietly, both lost in their attempts to forget the nightmares that had taken them from the arms of sleep.

It wasn't until he had re-filled his milk glass that she spoke again, "I bet mine was worse than yours," she said quietly as she reached for another cookie.

He looked at her in surprise. He had seen some of the things that she dealt with on her birthday, some of the destruction she tried to keep from happening and knew that she very likely had enough material to have some pretty bad dreams. Still, he shook his head. "Doubt it," he assured.

She raised a brow in challenge and motioned with a half eaten cookie as if to say, 'After you…' And Robin wondered if he had always been able to interpret her gestures or if it had started after the mind meld?

"Well…" he started. "I suppose the gist of it, without all the narration, is that I found myself on a bed watching as villain after villain came through my open window and into the Tower and although I knew I should do something, I should get up and stop them, I couldn't…" he blinked back the sensation of frustration. "I couldn't move…I could do nothing more than just lay there as they came through and they ignored me like I wasn't even there, and I couldn't even speak even though I tried and I was panicking, I couldn't…" he sighed and dunked another cookie, bringng it to his lips. He chewed and thought and Raven didn't interrupt, didn't prod or prompt, just sat there, alternately sipping from her tea and chewing on a cookie, watching him and waiting. "And finally," he said, swallowing, "Slade made his appearance," his voice was far away. "And he saw me…and he started telling me everything he was going to do to all of you…and although I struggled, my limbs were just too heavy for me to lift, it was like my body wasn't taking signals from my mind anymore and just as he started to approach me…" he met her eyes as if remembering she was in the room, "…I woke up."

She looked sympathetic as she sipped at her now lukewarm tea. "That is pretty bad," she admitted. She looked down at her cup and exhaled, as if through his telling, she had been living it with him. "I hate those nightmares…" she looked at him. "It's the frustration of not being able to do anything…of being completely immobile…I usually get them where I can't speak or scream and the worst ones are when I'm running towards someone to warn them or save them and although I keep trying to run faster and faster, or fly faster, I don't get any closer or its like I'm not moving at all...and not a thing is holding me back, but no matter how much I try, I just can't get there…"

He nodded. "That's it, exactly," he agreed. "Hate them."

"Those are just subconscious representations of our unconscious fears, though," she said, offering him a small smile. "Because all we can do is rely on the knowledge that when the time comes, we will be able to react, we will be able to warn and fight back."

Robin looked out at the darkness of the living room and the rest of the Tower, realizing that the light from the kitchen only pushed back the darkness up until just barely reaching where he had fallen. "What were you doing here in the dark?" he asked finally.

She shrugged casually as she reached for another cookie and absently opened it up to eat the part with the cream first. "I don't need the light to see," she admitted.

"So you made your tea and were just sitting here in the dark drinking it until you heard me coming down?"

"Until I heard you fumbling down, but yeah."

He narrowed his eyes at her, but wasn't certain she could catch it through the mask. He stood and tried to be imposing to make up for his lack of grace. "Why?" he asked. She looked a question at him and again, he knew just what that question was. "Why the dark?" he cleared up.

"I don't need the light to see…" she repeated as if he should have caught it last time.

"Does that mean you don't want the light?" he asked.

She shrugged and seemed about to say something when she met his eyes and stopped herself, rethinking it and looking past him for a moment to stare at an inconsequential point in the wall. "Having the light on when I'm down here by myself makes it all the more empty," she admitted. "In the dark, I…" she paused. "…it's just me and the dark and what's in front of me…in the light…" she looked around as if seeing everything that the light showed. "It's so much more…empty." She shrugged; as if that was the best answer she could give.

Frankly, he was floored. He hadn't expected her to give him even that much of an answer. And that she had started to give him her usual type of 'none of your business' answer had not escaped his notice. It was as if something had made her change her mind and give him a real answer. And he couldn't help wondering, what had changed her mind? Why? And why did it make him smile just a little?

"Not empty now," he said softly.

She looked at him and there was a look of near mischief in her eyes. "Not now that you and your garish boxers have arrived, no," she teased.

"Will you never let me live this down?" he asked on a half moan.

She chuckled. "No," she said surely.

"Beast Boy gave them to me," he offered as a defense.

She raised both her eyebrows. "That was your first mistake," she said drolly, the humor still in her voice. "Never wear anything that Beast Boy gives you."

"Like you haven't worn the Wonder Woman pjs he gave you?" he challenged.

"Eh…no," she answered, but she hid her face from him and was too slow to keep him from catching the immediate blush.

"A-ha!" he exclaimed on a whisper. "You've worn the Wonder Woman boxers!"

"They're not boxers!" she defended. "They're sleep shorts and a cami," she said more calm. "Women don't wear boxers."

"Some women wear men's boxers," he said before he had thought about it.

She sat up straight and gave him a look. "Yes, because I'm so the type to prance around in men's boxers," she asked sarcastically rolling her eyes.

He tried not to think about her prancing in boxers and pointed out, "You're not exactly the type I'd picture in a 'cami' or satin either."

She shook her head and refrained from further comment. "Can we please not talk about sleepwear anymore?" she asked.

He grinned. "Why? Don't want me to ask you what other kind of pj sets you have?"

She stood up from the chair and walked passed him, "Why would you want to know?" she asked innocently as she walked to the sink.

He didn't know quite what to answer to that. There was the answer he wanted to give and the answer he probably should give and the answer…ah, it was too late for this…

"Mine was worse, you know," she said from where she was washing out the mug.

"I still doubt it," he said securely. "But go ahead…lay it on me."

She turned off the sink and sudden the silence was back, like a palpable thing. "I dreamt Chandler from Friends was my father."

Robin looked at her, eyes open in pure terror. (Even though she probably couldn't tell through the mask) "Chandler?" he asked, choking on the word. It was so inconceivable. Chandler as Raven's father? She turned and caught his look, even if she probably couldn't tell his eyes were open that wide, she must've caught his slack jaw.

She nodded seriously. "Chandler. And he wanted to take me to India."

He looked at her as if saying, 'what the hell?' and she shrugged as if saying, 'I know…scary.'

"Okay," he admitted, raising his hands in defeat. As much as he hated to lose, in this case, he would concede defeat. With her dream, she had made that awful clenching feeling of fear that he got from the dream ease from his heart so he was almost willing to laugh. "You win."

Raven grinned for a moment. "Told ya so," she said as she put the clean cup away in the cabinet. Without another word, she started to walk away.

This, in itself, wasn't strange. She always left when she had nothing more to say and she never really indulged in meaningless verbal trivialities. But something was nagging Robin's sleep lagged brain and it wasn't until she was almost at the elevator that he realized what it was.

He followed her out to catch her. "Hey Raven?"

She turned back as she pressed the call button. "Hm?"

"I though you never watched Friends?"

She opened her eyes as if to say, 'Now you've got it'. Aloud, she said,"I don't."

Robin felt himself shiver. "Okay…now that's really freaky!"

She nodded sagely as if to say, 'Now, you see?' and when the elevator opened, stepped inside.

He had started to walk back to the kitchen to clean up his own mess but stopped as she called back to him.

"Oh, and by the way…" she called. He turned and raised an eyebrow in question, waiting. "You were there, too," she said just as the doors started to close with her inside.

He frowned, but before he could say anything more, the elevator had closed her away from him and had already begun its ascent to a higher floor. He had been there?

'Wait…' his mind fought to catch up. Had Raven just admitted to dreaming with him? 'No,' he answered himself forcefully. 'She admitted to having had a dream in which I was present…' He shook his head as he cleaned up the kitchen and hid the remaining cookies back in the fridge. "So not the same thing…" he mumbled to himself. Especially considering it had been a nightmare.

But he couldn't help but wonder…what had he been doing in her dream? And then, just as unbidden another thought occurred to him: She never challenged him when he insisted she wore the Wonder Woman pjs. His mind went from deductive leap to deductive leap, taking him from the fact she had never denied it when he had insisted to the thought of her wearing them and how funny she would look to the thought that it wouldn't be very funny at all to the realization that he was imaginging Raven in boxers and a t-shirt with socks.

His mind screeched to a halt. 'Where the hell did that come from?' he wondered in a near panic. 'I really need to get some sleep...' he thought as he started to walk from the room, then stopped. And cursed Cyborg again.

He didn't remember how to turn off the lights either. "Crap," he muttered with feeling.

Dislcaimer: I've pretty much come to the conclusion that no one is ever really going to think that I own TT. I don't. And if Robin and Raven want to come and play in my imagination for a while, who are any of those lawyers to say they can't!

Extra A/N: The rating is as it is just in case. Although I have yet to envision a lemon, slight hints of lime might pepper the vignettes...they might not, too, but just in case. Also, there's the language.