A.N.: I have no idea where this cracked little idea came from, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

For anyone who needs a refresher course, this story takes place immediately following "Bunny Raven, or How to Make a Titanimal Disappear." Mumbo Jumbo turns Raven into a rabbit, Robin into a monkey, Starfire into a cat, and Cyborg into a dancing bear. Since Beast Boy turns into animals already, Mumbo turns him into a lamp that can shift into other inanimate objects.

Get it? Got it? Good. On with the show.

Oh. Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans. Not even a little bit.

-T-

At 3 a.m., Raven woke up to the sound of someone banging around in the kitchen.

This wasn't the most unusual occurrence: Someone was almost always banging around in the kitchen, whether it was Starfire happily preparing a Tamaranean dish no one but herself would eat, or Cyborg going full-on chef mode at just about any hour. But the ruckus didn't usually sound so violent: cupboards slammed, dishes clattering vehemently in the sink, muffled thumps of things thrown too forcefully on the counters.

Frowning, and too curious to go back to sleep, she slung her cloak around her shoulders and ventured to the kitchen to investigate.

She half expected to see Beast Boy in the midst of making a vegetarian midnight snack. What she saw—to her astonishment—was Robin, gloves off, flour up to his elbows and looking supremely annoyed.

He glared at her from the mess over which he stood—eggshells, opened flour and sugar bags, dirtied measuring cups, general detritus—and said, "Not one word."

She raised an eyebrow.

As the Boy Wonder returned to his project, Raven drifted over to the electric kettle to heat up water for tea, as though this had been her goal all along. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Robin huffed over a cookbook, measuring vanilla and milk and slamming down the bottles with unnecessary force. She didn't need to tap into their mental bond to know what he was feeling: Agitation rolled off him in waves.

The kettle beeped. She measured tea leaves into a strainer and filled a mug, then extracted a bag of baby carrots and bottle of ranch dressing from the fridge before taking a seat on a stool across from Robin.

She sipped her tea and waited a few moments before opening with, "So."

"No."

"I can't help but notice—"

"No."

"—that you seem to be taking out an unfair amount of frustration on Cyborg's baking utensils."

"It's a whisk. It doesn't have feelings."

"What are you making?"

"Banana bread."

He lifted a bowl of yellow mush that was, without question, mashed bananas. One floured hand over his nose, he turned the bowl over into the batter, suppressing a gag as it fell out with a glop.

Raven dabbed a carrot delicately into her puddle of ranch dressing.

"I feel like I should point out," she said, "that you hate bananas."

It was true. Robin was not a picky eater—in fact, like Cyborg, he would eat pretty much anything put in front of him when he remembered to eat at all. But for as long as Raven had known him, Robin had drawn the line at bananas, declaring he couldn't stand the way they smelled.

"Yes."

"So…why are you angry-baking banana bread at 3 a.m.?"

He looked up from his batter, and the whites of his mask narrowed.

"I don't know, Raven. Why are you eating carrots at 3 a.m.?"

She paused with a carrot halfway to her mouth. She put it down, and tried to cover up her blush with a glare.

"I see."

"Yeah."

"You too, huh?"

She'd thought she was the only one still suffering from the aftermath of being turned into an animal by Mumbo Jumbo. Spending several hours as a white rabbit had, as she'd predicted, left a lingering side effect: Her nose did indeed twitch every time the Titans' alarm went off. But it also manifested in other ways, like a constant craving for vegetables or salt, or an urge to nibble to keep her teeth from growing.

Which they weren't. Of course they weren't. But her brain kept forgetting that.

"It's been three days," said Robin. She hadn't thought it was possible for anyone to look so pissed off while using a whisk. "I'm losing my mind. Earlier today, in the gym? I tried to reach for something with my tail."

Raven nearly choked on a gulp of tea, vividly remembering how useful that extra appendage had been when Robin was stuck as a capuchin monkey.

"That's pretty bad," she said, coughing to hide her laughter, but the flickering kitchen light bulb gave her away. Robin scowled.

"Anyway. I woke up at midnight craving bananas, which is stupid, and I couldn't go back to sleep. So I figured I'd try to, you know, appease the weird animal thing by doing a normal human thing. Like baking."

"Banana bread."

"Yeah. Two birds, one stone. Honestly, I think I just needed something to do with my p—hands, hands, hands, Jesus Christ!"

He slopped a considerable amount of batter onto the countertop rather than into one of Cyborg's waiting bread pans. The lights flickered again.

When the pan was safely in the oven, Robin plopped into a seat across from Raven and laid his head in his arms with a groan.

"I've been thinking," he said, "about asking Beast Boy—"

"Absolutely not. We will literally never hear the end of it."

"I know, but if it means I stop wanting to…to check myself for fleas—or worse, check you guys for fleas—it might be worth basically gift-wrapping a year's worth of joke material for him."

The door to the hallway slid open.

"Gift-wrapping what now?"

Cyborg and Starfire came in, looking tired and perplexed to see the other two at the counter.

"Y'all havin' a party without us? And why are you sittin' in the dark?" Cyborg clapped his hands. The hall and living room lights came on as well, brightening the dim kitchen area. "That's better... Wait. Robin, are you baking?"

"And with bananas?" Starfire lifted a peel questioningly. "Did you not once say bananas were 'the actual worst'?"

Robin waved vaguely, still without raising his head from the counter. Cyborg raised his one human eyebrow.

"Alrighty. Anybody else want coffee?"

"Please," said Robin. Cyborg rolled his eye and moved toward the coffee maker.

"So? Anybody want to tell us what the occasion is?"

"Nothing," said Raven, smirking into her mug. "Robin's just trying to get a monkey off his back."

"I changed my mind. Raven is the actual worst."

"Oh! I remember this expression!" Starfire clapped her hands. "It means Robin has something weighing upon his mind, rather than acknowledging the existence of a real primate! Correct?"

Cyborg chuckled. "You got it, Star. Although…"

He frowned at the banana peels, and then Raven's carrots.

"Aw, hell. Not you guys, too?"

Robin's head popped up in shock.

"You're joking," said Raven.

"Are you serious? What's wrong with you two?"

"It's Star, mostly," Cyborg said. "I noticed it in the gym the other day."

Starfire's face took on a pained expression.

"What happened?"

"The light must've been shining on my armor, because I was throwing reflections on the wall, and—well, just watch."

Cyborg changed one of his fingertips into a laser pointer. As soon as the red dot appeared on the wall, Starfire squeaked and launched after it, slapping it so hard she left a hand-shaped dent.

Robin burst out laughing, and Starfire glared, not sure which of the two boys to be more irritated with.

"Please do not do that again," she growled at Cyborg, as Robin tried to get himself under control.

"That sucks. I'm so sorry, Star."

"It is very annoying, and most distracting."

"Yeah. You couldn't look away from the reflections I was casting." Cyborg brought two mugs to the counter, and Robin wrapped his hands around one gratefully. "I thought you were in some kinda trance."

"It felt so," Starfire said, still sulking.

"So." Raven narrowed her eyes at Cyborg. "Robin and I are having weird cravings, Starfire can't turn off her hunter's instincts. What's wrong with you?"

"…You know that thing bears do? When they itch and rub up on stuff?"

"That's it?" Robin shook his head in disgust. "You got off easy."

"I sincerely doubt that's the only thing," said Raven, her eyes still narrowed. "Maybe it just hasn't manifested yet. Maybe you'll have a nervous breakdown every time you see a tutu."

Cyborg glowered as Robin snorted into his cup of coffee, coming up sputtering and laughing.

"You know I can kill you, right?" Cyborg growled.

"You can try," Robin shot back.

"Boys," said Raven warningly, as the hall door slid open again.

"Something smells good. What's going on?"

Everyone but Starfire groaned as Beast Boy walked into the room. He had a bouncy ball in one hand, tossing it idly as he walked, and he made a face at his teammates.

"Good to see you guys, too. It's nice to be loved."

"Sorry, man. There's coffee if you want it."

"What's in the oven?"

"Rob made banana bread."

"…Why?"

"Reasons," Robin grumped.

"Suit yourself." Beast Boy tossed his ball moodily, letting it rebound off a cabinet before catching it and aiming elsewhere. Starfire watched the ball's progress with a tortured expression, unable to tear her eyes away.

"Give me that," snapped Robin, snatching the ball out of the air. "Where did you even get this? Out of a gumball machine?"

"God, what is with you guys lately? Everyone is so on edge I can practically smell it."

No one answered immediately. But Starfire caved first.

"Beast Boy, when you change from animal form—"

"Star, no!"

"—must you overcome any lingering animal instincts? Because since the incident in the Mumbo's hat—"

"Star, stop talking," said Raven, covering her eyes with her hand to block out the disaster coming. But Starfire didn't have to finish. Beast Boy's face had split into a grin.

"Let me guess. You guys are having 'lingering instincts?'" He formed air quotes around the words, his smile growing more gleeful by the second. "Oh my god, what are they? Have you tried to hack up any hairballs, Star? Those are the worst. And Raven, you probably just want to chew on, like, everything, right? Hey Rob, tried to pick up anything with your tail yet?"

Both Cyborg and Starfire's jaws dropped, and they snapped their gazes to the Boy Wonder. Robin buried his face in his hands in mortification, his hairline turning bright red.

"What'd you get, Cy?"

"Phantom itches," Cyborg answered—too quickly. "No big deal."

Like Raven, Beast Boy narrowed his eyes at Cyborg. Then he smirked, and started humming a Russian-sounding folk song.

Cyborg nearly fell over as one of his legs spasmed in response, trying to kick into a dance.

"WHAT THE—"

Cyborg clapped his hands to his knees as the rest of the team burst out laughing, Beast Boy nearly doubled-up in his chair. "You little grass stain, when I get hold of you—!"

"Sorry, Borgy-Bear, you don't scare me!" Cyborg took a swipe at him, but Beast Boy danced impishly out of the way as Robin and Starfire continued to crack up.

"Enough!" Raven wrapped a tendril of magic around Cyborg and Beast Boy's respective waists, forcing them back into their seats and out of striking distance. "Beast Boy, you knew all the side effects. How do you make them stop?"

Beast Boy shrugged. "Practice? I dunno. I transform too often for any set of side effects to take hold for very long. If something comes up—take the tail thing, that happens a lot—I just think, 'Oh yeah, I'm human right now, I can't do that,' and I stop wanting to."

"So I must simply say to myself, 'Starfire, you are no longer a cat, and there is no need to do cat things?'" Star looked doubtful. "I have been trying this and it has not worked very well. It is most frustrating. I was not very good at being a cat in the first place."

"You were a cute cat," said Robin absently, rolling the bouncy ball under his palm. Then, realizing what he'd said: "I mean. As far as cats go. Not in a weird way."

"I…thank you?"

Beast Boy buckled with giggles again as Robin and Starfire, clearly flustered, tried to look just about anywhere but at each other. Raven hid her face behind her mug, taking a huge gulp of tea to stop herself from joining Beast Boy. Things were getting mildly hysterical, and she was going to start popping light bulbs soon if they didn't calm down.

The oven timer beeped. Robin went to take the bread out of the oven, while Cyborg pulled out plates and a bread knife.

"So we just wait it out?" Raven asked as the boys slid a warm slice of banana bread in front of her. Beast Boy nodded.

"Yeah, I think you're going to have to. But it probably won't take long. You guys were only animals for a few hours, and you can't transform again. Eventually your bodies will forget what it was like to be something else." He took a big bite of his bread. "Y'know. Pro'lly."

"Probably," repeated Robin hollowly, poking uncertainly at his own serving. "Have you had any weird side effects? From being a lamp, or whatever?"

"Not that I've noticed. Maybe it's a shapeshifter thing."

"Yeah, maybe," said Cyborg, still sour from Beast Boy's earlier joke. He took a bite of his slice, and his eyes widened. "This is actually pretty good."

"Really?" Robin looked surprised but pleased. "Thanks."

They ate, and Raven had to admit that Cyborg was right: despite Robin having never exhibited baking skills before—because he never baked—the banana bread was tasty. When they finished, there was plenty left over for breakfast.

"Sun won't be up for another few hours," said Cyborg, glancing at the dark windows. "Anybody up for a game?"

"I think I'm just going back to bed," said Robin.

"Ditto," said Beast Boy with a yawn. "That snack hit the spot. Now I'm all warm and sleepy."

"I also shall return to bed."

"For a cat nap?" Robin teased, and ducked when Starfire aimed a swat at his head.

"I hope that monkey stays on your back."

"No," said Raven, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We are not joking about this. We are not making this a normal thing."

"Yeah, guys, cut it out. Raven says it's not bunny." Beast Boy cackled to himself, even as the others groaned.

"Come on, BB, that was barely even a pun."

"You're just mad you didn't think of it first."

"Bed. Everyone. Now." Raven pointed to the door, and the others moved toward the hall. Cyborg, at the rear, paused in the entryway.

"I'll get the lights."

He clapped twice. The lights went out immediately—and Beast Boy dropped like a stone onto the carpet.

Starfire yelped in alarm and concern, but the group's panic ebbed away quickly when they realized Beast Boy was snoring, loudly and contentedly. Cyborg looked in wonder from his hands, to the light fixtures, to the sleeping changeling on the floor.

"Well," said Robin, a barely contained laugh rippling under his words. "I guess we found Beast Boy's side effect."

"I changed my mind," Raven said. "This is fine."