A/N: (by Emania) Step right up, folks, come and get it. Both Kysra and myself have worked very hard on this story to bring it to you...

...okay, so we haven't worked so hard on the chapter itself, but we did work hard on the idea behind it...and the plot of the story...

...eh, okay, so we haven't so much on that either...

...this is NO A Raven's Tale me 'hearties. This is not nearly so well planned (can you tell I was in charge of this one::le sigh:: I'm helpless when it comes to planning things, so much less of a planner than Kysra is in any case, and hence, I come out looking like a slacker.

ANYWAY...hope you enjoy in any case. This here's a comedy whereas the other actually has a PLOT! (go figure? something I'm involved in that has a plot? That GuardianKysra is a bad influence on me, I'm telling you...)

Disclaimer: Neither Kysra nor myself claim any ownership to these characters. We make no money off of this either, so f&ck off, ya bloomin' blighers! (Don't ask why I turned cockney of a sudden...iunno.)

Thanks:Special thanks to Absentia without whom this story would still be title-less.

Strange Bedfellows
Chapter 1: Made
by Emania and Kysra

"Love and pregnancy and riding on a camel cannot be hid."
- Arabic Proverb

x - x

It was a little known fact that Raven was not the sharpest tack in the box first thing in the morning.

It was little known because no one ever saw her in the morning. She was always up at least an hour before anyone else.

Robin knew, but Robin knew everything. Even if he weren't the only one who was ever up at the time she was, he would probably know.

So, when she awoke with the general overall feeling that something was wrong but couldn't quite place what (and didn't exactly try to either) no one could really blame her. As a matter of fact, no one who had interacted with Raven upon first waking (namely: Robin) would be at all surprised to learn that she did absolutely nothing to find out what the wrong thingmight be.

Consequently, Raven became conscious (because she could hardly call it waking), blinked the sun out of her eyes, thought vaguely that she could have sworn she had closed her drapes as she stood with some difficulty, half-heartedly cussing the pasta she had for dinner (it always made her feel bloated), wobbled to the door, bumped into the bedside table she (again) could have sworn was on the opposite side of the room, walked into the closet then back out again, and into the bathroom (stumbling over a pair of shoes on her way there) before actually wondering when Cyborg moved the bathroom to the other side of her room.

It wasn't until she was sitting on the toilet that she blinked at the dark cherry wood and chrome decor around her, the plush burgundy carpet at her feet, the hardwood beneath it, the dark blue walls and stylish accessories that she had the sense to think, This isn't my bathroom.

Considering over half her brain was still asleep, it was with notable logic and perception that it occurred to her that she must be dreaming.

With one more drowsy glance through the reflection of the well appointed bathroom's matte chrome mirror as she washed her hands (just because it was a dream didn't mean she could be unhygienic) she wobbled back to bed, thinking that she hated dreams where she was so fat. I could live with a cherry wood and chrome bathroom, she thought as she yawned, snuggling into the warm spot under the covers, if I just didn't have to be so fat… But as a strong, warm arm curled around her pulling her more comfortably into the warmth, she had just enough time to amend that thought before surrendering to sleep: She could definitely get used to dreams like this one, even if she was fat.

x - x

Approximately two hours later when she was truly awake, it was not the warm, sinuous, well shaped, and comfortable arm that was still tucked in the groove just under her breast that she noticed first. She was much too preoccupied by the distended mound she could only assume was her abdomen sticking nearly straight upward. For a few moments, she blinked at it in abject confusion, her mind attempting to grasp that what she was seeing was a part of her body.

Being, by nature, a thinker and observer first and a doer second, it was not until every possible conclusion of the visual facts presented to her had worked out to the same conclusion – that the large belly belonged, somehow to her-- did she attempt to confirm by sensory exploration.

It must at this point be explained that Raven was not alone in the bed as one might have already deduced. This small fact, however, did not occur to her until her shifting about in her attempt to touch her t-shirt clad mountain of a stomach resulted in said other person moving.

This person was having a wonderful dream and was disinclined to waking and so he did what any normal person might do – he pulled the squirming woman at his side closer to his own body in an inborn, instinctual attempt to stop her squirming (also because she smelled wonderful and the place between neck and shoulder was especially warm.)

The tightening of the arm around her and the press of a stubbled jaw against her neck obviously alerted Raven to the previously stated fact that she was not only fat, but not as altogether alone as she had begun the night.

Her reaction was immediate and expected. However, the rather voluminous down comforter, and the aforementioned unaccustomed dimensions of her body prevented the execution of a planned, graceful movement meant only to remove her from her predicament; and instead of simply transporting herself to her obviously designated side of the bed, the overcompensated force and laws of inertia might very well have landed her in an ungraceful heap on the floor if it hadn't been for the equally immediate, equally instinctual reaction of her bed companion and his aforementioned arms.

Consequently, her first glimpse at the man who had so tenderly and possessively held her while sleeping and gallantly protected her from a fall occurred as he held her just shy of the bed's edge, keeping her in place by the one arm at her side and the other around her. She looked up and into his crystal blue eyes, devoid of sleep but full of the same confusion and surprise she felt herself.

She cursed.

Prolifically.

He very politely waited until she was done before speaking.

"Raven?"

"Robin."

"What the hell's going on?" he demanded, not moving.

Raven had had the dubious advantage of having more time than Robin to assess the situation, so she was able to answer with considerable calm.

"Well," she blinked up at him. "We have apparently spent the night together in a room not mine and not yours, which indicates we've probably been drugged and / or kidnapped," she sighed and relaxed into the bed, confident she wouldn't be falling any time soon.

She noticed what Robin looked like for the first time that morning, picking up on the subtle differences and nuances which only made her frown harder. "You have long hair," she said, noting her own hair when it fell in front of her face as he breathed. "So do I," she added.

She tried to cross her arms over her chest but between Robin above her and the unnatural extension of her belly, she couldn't. "And it appears I'm quite fat," she finished, more than a slight bit of annoyance leaking into her voice.

Robin looked down at her belly, and tentatively poked at her bump. She glared, but he didn't seem to notice. He looked at her and his eyes were as wide as saucers. "You're not fat, Raven." His hand went instinctively onto the mound of her stomach, palm down even as his eyes widened even more. "You're pregnant."

Raven touched the firmness of her own stomach, her own palm flat against where her belly button would be, and she knew without a doubt it was not fat.

"Wonderful," Raven announced, deadpan.

Robin repositioned himself sitting next to her and when she looked somewhat like a turtle trying to get off its back, helped her sit up. "You weren't this big yesterday, Raven," Robin pointed out.

Raven looked at him in disbelief, "I wasn't pregnant at ALL yesterday, Robin," she corrected.

"Do you think it could be a trick?" Without response or thought, Robin reached for the bottom edge of her t-shirt.

Raven grabbed his hand and stopped him, glaring even harder. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked.

Robin had the grace to blush. "Sorry!" he said. "I just thought...maybe it's a fake belly?"

Raven's glare didn't diminish. "Trust me, it's real."

"So if you're really pregnant and you weren't the last time we remember..." Robin started.

"That must mean we've been here--" Raven started.

"--wherever here is," Robin added, looking around.

"--for quite some time," Raven finished.

"Wonderful," Robin said, in a surprisingly good imitation of her deadpan delivery.

"No kidding," Raven agreed.

There was a moment of silence, where they both visually explored their surroundings, Raven taking in the different layout of the room and remembering her trek to the bathroom earlier that morning and Robin listening to the sound of birds outside the window and trying to figure out if they could be in some kind of hologram.

Eventually, a question occurred to Robin and he turned to Raven who met his stare. "Who do you suppose the father is?" Robin asked.

Raven arched a brow meaningfully, motioning to the rumpled sheets. "Oh, I don't know, Robin, it doesn't appear that this bed can hold three people, does it?" she asked sarcastically.

"Well, if the size of your stomach is any indication, this..." he trailed off and motioned her general belly area, "didn't happen last night," he pointed out.

She narrowed her eyes at him "Yes, you're right, Robin," she continued. "Nine months ago, I must have slept with someone else and it's only now that you're sleeping with me because I'm so incredibly sexy right now." she trailed off and raised a brow at him, "Tell me, do you have a fetish for seducing pregnant women I'm not aware of?"

"No!" he exclaimed hurriedly, then at the pinched look on her face, quickly amended it, "I mean yes - I mean, no to the fetish with the pregnant women, not that you're not...but I...and you...and I wouldn't..." he looked at her, his hands making incredibly useless and meaningless gesticulations in the air between them. "But you're...and I'm just..." he trailed off with a groan as he noticed the warning expression on Raven's face and resorted instead to banging his head back against the headboard. "It's too early for this shit."

x - x

To Be CoNtInUeD . . .

A/N: (Em again) Do tell us what you think, yeah? I'm always trying to hone my comedy-writing skills and y'all know how much I love to hear form you.

And go check out A Raven's Tale over on GuardianKysra's account (You can find it on my favorites listing if you don't know her already) if you like Kysra and my's collaboration. (That fic actually has two chapters posted already!)