The docks of Jump City are slick with rain as you perch on the edge of a rusted shipping container, your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. This is your first solo mission since joining the Titans, and you’re determined not to mess it up.

"Reports of suspicious activity near Pier 7," Cyborg had said, clapping you on the shoulder. "You got this, newbie."

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one out here alone, in the dark, with nothing but a communicator and the crushing weight of "don’t embarrass yourself in front of the team."

Then—movement.

A shadow slips between the stacks of crates, too quick, too fluid. Your muscles tense. There.

You leap down, landing in a crouch, boots splashing in a shallow puddle. The figure turns—tall, broad-shouldered, clad in dark blues and blacks. His back is to you, but something about the way he moves is familiar.

No time to think. Just act.

You lunge.

"Got you, villain!" you snap, tackling him from behind.

The two of you crash into a pile of damp fishing nets, tangled and flailing. He lets out a grunt—a very human grunt—and then rolls, flipping you onto your back with practiced ease.

And then you see him.

Oh no.

Glistening water droplets cling to his black hair. His eyes—deep blue darkness, like the ocean at midnight—widen in recognition. Aqualad. Garth. A Titan. Definitely not a villain.

"Uh," you say intelligently.

His smiles sincerely. "You know, most creatures say hello before they tackle someone."

Heat floods your face. Oh, this is bad. This is so bad. You’ve seen the way Starfire giggles around him, the way Raven’s usual stoicism cracks just a little when he’s near. You know the Titans’ unofficial rule (made by Robin of course): Don’t get flustered around Garth.

And yet here you are.