Chapter Text
Marinette swirled her olive in the dregs of her martini, forlornly chewing on the other. The chatter of the multitude of people passing through the bar was a welcome background noise for her to tune out as she thought of her ex-partner.
The news anchor’s voice suddenly cut through her thoughts of dark hair and teal eyes. Had he said-
“Oh, he was the sweetest boy, always so polite,” said a little old lady who had appeared on the stool next to her. She looked harmless, but she wouldn’t have survived this long in a city like Gotham without having something up her sleeve. “We all missed him greatly. He was a ray of sunshine, one that Gotham let through her smog to give us all hope.”
Marinette turned to her. “Would you mind telling me more about him and what’s happening? I’m somewhat new here.”
The party was in full swing by the time her limo pulled up to the event hall. The chauffeur opened the door for her, her date for the night getting out and offering his hand in silent escort.
They entered the hall, fashionably late and thus commanding everyone’s attention without even trying. She knew she looked good, having put her own touch on the off-the-rack dress she’d found in an adorable boutique.
She took in the crowd as she descended the stairs, using her temporary height to her advantage. So many dark-haired men here, yet the one she wanted to see wasn’t.
Her date led her to a small group of people by the foot of the stairs, two of which had ‘PRESS’ lanyards over their suit and dress.
“Clark, Lois, it’s good to see you! How have you been? This is my date, Melody Dupain. Melody, these are my friends, Clark Kent and Lois Lane.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” she nodded.
“It’s nice to meet you, Melody,” said Lois. “We just talked the other day, nothing’s changed,” she added to her date.
“Good to hear. Excuse us, the mayor wanted a word.”
Marinette continued on her way, taking the time her date was socializing to scan the room.
She excused herself from the conversation, heading in the direction of the French doors she’d spotted as she came in.
The cool air was refreshing after the heat of the ballroom and cloying perfumes. She found a quiet spot overlooking the gardens, underneath a garden party tent of some kind. Little drops of rain soon echoed calmingly as they bounced off the canvas top.
“May I have this dance?”
She startled, the rain having covered anyone’s approaching footsteps.
“Dancing is a dangerous game. Haven’t you read any Jane Austen, where the characters fall in love because they danced?”
She turned, her breath catching.
He smirked. “Of course I’ve read Jane Austen; I’m not a heathen, what do you take me for?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Watching my ex-swindling-partner attempt to swindle my dad, apparently,” he shrugged. “And just when I thought life was going to be boring again.”
“How…was everything I heard true?”
“Depends on what you heard, but probably. Although the rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated. I’m fine now.”
“Jay.”
“Look, this isn’t a great place to get into everything. How about we skip the party and go get Batburger?”
She hadn’t even heard the end of his proposition and she grabbed his hand, leading the way out.
“I’ll take you to my favourite gargoyle and we can talk there.”
“Of course you have a favourite gargoyle,” she rolled her eyes at him fondly.
He opened the door to a black Rolls Royce.
She settled in the comfy seat appreciatively, running her hands over the dash. “You finally got your fancy car, huh?”
He chuckled dryly. “Yep. First long con I ever did, and I’m still runnin’ it. Now I’m actually old enough to drive the things.”
“Please just tell me you’re not pretending to be Bruce’s dead son,” she said as they pulled into the Batburger drive through.
“No, I wouldn’t do that…well, maybe. But no, I’m the real dead son. But why are you trying to swindle the guy who has a dead son?”
“Not so dead anymore,” she retorted, waving at him. “Because I had to see if it was really you, homme stupide . I came to Gotham because it’s a wonderful place to hide, and then I found my ex-partner beat me to swindling high society, only it might not be a swindle at all! What did you even need the money for, if your dad is the richest guy in America?!”
He shrugged, paying and collecting their order. “His money ain’t my money. Also, he didn’t know I was alive, and I had some…things to take care of first.”
They climbed up the rusty fire escape to the roof of the building that housed his favourite gargoyle. Jason handed her her burger and fries.
“Your dress looks really nice, Mar. Did you make it?”
“I restyled it,” she sniffed, biting hungrily into her burger. “Thank you for the compliment.”
“Why are you so mad? I’m not even stopping you conning my dad or giving you away.”
“Because I thought I’d never see you again, and then I did and I wasn’t even prepared for it, and now I’m thrown all off-kilter! And I can’t in good conscience hustle your dad, he’s your dad !”
“I mean, if it helps, I hustle him all the time,” he shrugged, bumping her shoulder with his.
“It really doesn’t…okay, maybe a little bit. But I’m still not stealing from your dad! This was going to be my last con.”
“What? Why?” He looked at her, startled. “Are you in trouble?”
“Not as far as I know,” she bit a fry moodily in half. “I’m tired of it. Constantly looking over my shoulder, switching up my identity, never getting close to anyone. I’ll use what I have to settle down somewhere and set up a sewing shop or something, live a boring life and find a husband and have two-point-five kids…”
“It’ll never work.”
Marinette punched his shoulder for his immediate pessimistic shut-down.
“Ow! I mean, you won’t be happy without the adrenaline rush, the danger. But,” he raised his finger, “I have an idea.”
“Do tell,” she said dryly, used to his ideas.
“Marry me.”
She coughed out the fry she’d been eating. “Excuse me?”
“I’m serious. Marry me. It’ll take care of a lot of problems for us. We can’t legally testify against each other, in case our pasts catch up to us. You’ll be richer than Croesus, you can bug Bruce all the time –and it’ll be great leverage for me: “Bruce, how could you date your future daughter-in-law”--and we can go around long-conning society with a permanent identity and no one to catch us.”
“And just how will we do that?” she asked, getting interested in spite of herself.
“I can only tell you if you agree,” he said mock-solemnly.
She punched his shoulder again.
“Ow! If you’re gonna turn to punching me, maybe I'll take it back!”
“Tell me why we’re long-conning society, Jason,” she threatened.
“Because we’re the Todd-Waynes during the day, but the vigilantes Red Hood and Mrs Red Hood (name subject to change) at night!”
She blinked at him. “That makes so much sense. Wait, why will I be a vigilante?”
He gave her a flat look. “Pixie. You told me you used to be a hero. You need the adrenaline rush, that’s why you’re currently a swindler. You can go back to heroing, get your thrills, and feel good about it while you do it, instead of sullying your conscience by swindling old men grieving the loss of their son-ow!”
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
“Really?”
“Yes. But you have to answer a few questions for me first.”
“Only if you answer three of mine.”
“You’re a horrible negotiator.”
He simply smiled serenely at her.
She huffed. “Fine, I’ll answer three of your questions, but you have to answer as many as I ask you. You are getting the better part of the deal, may I remind you.”
“Sounds good.”
“Why do you want to marry me?”
“Ooh, loaded question, right off the bat. Well, I like you. I can trust you, we work well together, we know each other well already.”
“Why did you stay so long with me if your dad is a billionaire?”
“To take care of you. Also, it was nice to have someone around who knew me but also didn’t know me, if you know what I mean.”
“Crystal clear,” she deadpanned. “But yes, I think so. You wanted someone to know you without knowing the past you with all the baggage and pre-made judgments. I felt the same way. Why did you want to take care of me?”
“Why not? I like you.”
“Jason! You can’t just say stuff like that!”
“You wanted the truth!”
“Yeah, but I’m gonna fall off this roof in shock!”
“I’ll catch you then. As long as you’re falling for me.”
Marinette sputtered at his blatant flirting. “ You’ll be falling because of me.”
“I already am.”
“Jason Todd!”
The banter and interrogation continued until all the burgers and fries were gone. Jason sighed, leaning back on his elbows, kicking his feet over the side. “There’s something you should probably know before we do anything else.”
She eyed him cautiously. “Okay…”
“I wasn’t planning on partnering with you, but I felt like there was something between us after the first night. We got along so well after that, and it was an easy cover to keep when I had some Hood business to take care of. But we spent more time together, and I started falling for you. It wasn’t the plan, but I couldn’t stop–and I didn’t particularly want to stop, either. I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”
She bit her lip hard, willing away the tears. “I love you too, Jason Todd-Wayne.”