Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She couldn't believe this was happening.

They hadn't even been in Gotham for 24 hours and they had already left her behind.

It was disappointing, but not surprising.

This trip had been planned for months.

One week to see the sights and tour the city.

She had high hopes for a good time and a break from the stress in Paris.

Yesterday her entire class and Miss Bustier had arrived in Gotham and checked in to their hotel.

She'd sat alone on the flight and had her own room.

That was okay.

It was for the better.

No one in the class liked her anyway.

They hadn't since Lila sunk her claw into them.

It didn't bother her anymore.

She'd gotten over it and moved on.

But back to the matter at hand.

The day had started off great.

Tikki had woken her up nice and early to go down and get breakfast.

She'd been the first one there and the food had been amazing.

They'd started off their trip by taking a bus tour to get an overview of the city.

That's when things went wrong.

The bus had stopped at the 365 park so they could go out and take a look.

The flowers had been beautiful and it was well taken care off.

Trees stretched out above them in a roof like way.

It didn't really fit in with the rest of the city.

The tourguide had said something about Ivy, but she hadn't heard exactly what he said.

The point was that she'd turned her back for a second and everyone was gone.

The bus was gone.

No one was around.

She'd been forgotten.

"What am I going to do, Tikki?"

Her kwami had taken residence in her inner jacket pocket since they got here.

It was colder in Gotham than in Paris and her purse wasn't that warm.

She was eternally grateful that she at least had someone with her.

Tikki had popped her head out. "Maybe there's someone around that could give you directions, Marinette."

"Directions to where?" She had no idea where the rest of the class were going.

The kwami did a little shrug. "The hotel?"

It was better than nothing.

She walked out of the park and came to a road.

Buildings towered around her and she couldn't believe she'd just been in a park.

It seemed like she was on a main road if the size of it and the traffic was anything to go by.

There were skyscrapers in front of her and she could see at least ten different roads leading further in.

What did she have to lose?

She crossed and made her way down one of the bigger and hopefully safer roads.

Safe to say that she'd heard about Gotham's reputation.

Apparently she'd entered a shopping district in the better parts of the city.

That didn't necessarily mean that she was safe.

People moved with purpose and she'd seen quite a few with a knife or some other weapon hidden in their sleeves.

It was clear most of them were prepared to be attacked, but they didn't let it stop them.

She decided then and there that gothamites had more common sense than parisians.

CRASH

It took a few seconds to gather her bearings.

She'd walked into something.

Should have paid attention in front of her and not just around her.

Then the ground moved under her.

It was with dread she looked down.

She hadn't walked into something.

It was someone.

Someone that she was currently laying on.

She probably broke some kind of world record with the speed she threw herself away from the poor soul she'd plowed down.

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention. Then I kind of walked into you and we fell and I landed on top of you and I'm so sorry-" She noticed that she was rambling. Her hand reached out to the person on the ground. "Here, let me help you."

The boy she'd apparently run over hesitated, but ended up taking her hand.

His hair was black and he was just a bit taller than her.

He couldn't be much older than herself.

He had yet to say anything and she was getting really worried.

Was he hurt?

He dusted himself off before answering. "It's fine. Accidents happen."

Then he looked up

Time froze as they looked each other in the eyes.

His were the deepest shade of emerald she'd ever seen.

She got lost in them.

He didn't break the eye contact either.

At least until a car alarm sounded from somewhere across the street and broke them from their trance.

They both blinked a few times to get back to reality.

Then she held out her hand. "I'm Marinette."

He shook it. "Damian."

Something in her calmed.

She smiled, "Nice to meet you, Damian. I'm sorry for running you down."

He didn't smile, but she saw his eyes soften.

"It's really no problem. " His eyebrows rose a little bit. "I couldn't help, but notice your accent. Are you from France?"

She found herself nodding. "I'm here on a class trip."

If she didn't have such an eye for details she probably wouldn't have caught how his eyebrows furrowed for less than a second.

"I didn't see anyone else with you."

Marinette grimaced. "I got left behind and I'm also kind of lost. It would be really helpful if you could give me some directions to my hotel."

"You don't know where the rest of your class are?"

Her head shook.

Damian got a contemplative look on his face. "What hotel are you staying at?"

It took her a moment to remember the name.

"Maple Meadow."

He gave a curt nod. "That's close by. If you want I could show you around before taking you back there."

She immediately tried to assure him that wasn't needed. "You don't have to do that. You're probably busy. Just directions would be fine."

"Nonsense. I'm free the entire day." He opened his arms a bit to gesture around him. "We could tour this part of the city by foot for awhile."

It was a tempting offer.

The hotel weren't going anywhere and the rest of her class would be gone until dinner.

She could get to see the place from a different perspective.

Walking around would be fun.

She gave a small smile. "Are you sure it's no trouble?"

"No trouble at all." He held out his arm for her to take.

It was hard to know if he was old fashioned or cheesy, but she didn't really care.

It was kind of charming.

She took the offered arm and smiled.

"Let's go then."

Chapter Text

She agreed.

She actually agreed.

He hadn't meant for any of that to happen.

It just came out.

So he did the expected thing.

He panicked internally without showing it.

It wasn't that he didn't want to spend time with Marinette.

No, not at all.

From what he'd seen she was a wonderful girl, but she gave him this feeling.

He couldn't describe it properly.

She was different somehow.

She'd calmed him down and that was a mystery in itself since they'd spoken for no more than five minutes.

Something in those deep blue eyes had just connected with him.

It was weird, but in the good sense of the word.

So no, the problem wasn't that he didn't want to spend time with her.

It was more the fact that he had no idea what he was doing.

He'd practically just asked out a girl for the first time in his life.

He should have listened when Dick rambled on about his dates.

How was he supposed to do this?

Usually he'd hate to call himself lacking in any area, but he knew better than to lie to himself.

He might be a good liar, but not that good.

He was violent and vindictive and terrible at most, if not all, social interactions.

She'd run away crying within ten minutes.

But then she took his arm and smiled.

He decided then and there that he might not know what he was doing, but he would give it his best try.

If only to see her smile like that again.

He turned them around so they were walking the way he'd come from. "Anything specific you want to see?"

"Surprise me."

He thought about it.

The area they were in was packed with better off people and had very little to offer when it came to sights or even basic culture.

They should go to a more interesting place that still wasn't too dangerous.

He knew exactly where to take her.

"You wouldn't happen to have anything against going to a local place without any tourists, would you?"

Marinette cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. "Nope, but now I'm curious. Where exactly are you taking me, Damian?"

He didn't answer directly as they had to cross the street and in Gotham you couldn't be careful enough in traffic.

The conversation continued when they were safely on the other side. "You said you wanted to be surprised."

"That doesn't mean you can't tell me where we're going. I'll be surprised anyway when I see the place."

"I'm quite sure that's not how a surprise works."

She pouted. "Come on?"

Normally he'd think her immature, but he was still stuck on how cute she looked. "Not happening. You'll just have to wait and see."

"Well I tried." The pout disappeared without a trace. "Let's talk about something else then. Any hobbies?"

He gently pulled her a bit in his direction so she didn't walk straight into a lamppost.

She barely noticed.

"I draw."

He didn't think much of it, but Marinette got a bit enthusiastic.

"You do? I personally only sketch clothes, but I love how expressive drawings can be." Her free arm was gesticulating wildly and her face had a broad grin. "There's all these different colours and everyone has their own style. It's incredible. What do you like to draw?"

That was very impressive.

She hadn't stopped for air once.

"I mostly draw people and things around me. I like capturing a moment from my perspective on paper." He'd never told anyone that and he was asking himself why he was telling her. "I sometimes strike out and try something new, but I always return to that. You draw clothes?"

"Well, I do, but it's more to get my ideas on paper than to actually draw. I'm into fashion design so I sketch clothes when inspiration strikes." She nearly slapped a man she passed by with her extensive arm movements. "Some I make, some I don't, but they're always good to have. Then I can return to them when I need new ideas."

This girl was an interesting one.

"Do you ever wear anything you've made yourself?"

Her head immediately nodded. "About half my wardrobe is my own creations. The clothes I'm wearing now is my own design."

Until his dying breath he'd deny checking her out.

He was just taking a quick look at her outfit.

She was wearing gray, well fitted pants and a pink coat.

It was simple yet stylish.

He noticed several details that made the entire outfit whole.

But that was not what stood out most to him.

It was the fact that he couldn't tell it was homemade.

He didn't doubt for a second that Marinette had done it.

She was too sincere for that.

She'd just done it so good that it passed his well trained eye without notice.

And he'd seen a lot of clothes through the years.

"That's very well done."

Her face turned a shade more to the red. "Thanks."

They continued the rest of the walk in silence, but it was a comfortable silence.

He lead the way and she followed him without any hesitation.

Then he turned down a small backstreet.

It was one of the few relatively safe ones in the city.

It was barely 25 feet long until they came out on the other side.

He heard her breath hitch as she took everything in.

Her eyes were wide as saucers and he thought she might have stopped breathing for a few seconds.

"This is amazing."

Chapter Text

Damian had taken her down more than a few streets to get here and none of them had looked remotely like this.

They'd passed skyscrapers and modern buildings.

Even the older buildings had a more modern touch about them.

They'd only turned down a small back road and walked into whole other world.

There was shops on both sides of the street.

They all had this old feeling clinging to them, but it wasn't the broken and dirty kind of old.

No, she felt like she'd been transported back in time.

She felt it in her bones.

It was in every little detail.

In the narrow street of cobblestones and in the hanging shop signs that probably didn't even have any dust on them.

Every brick, every doorstep and every shopping window.

People were milling around in a much calmer pace than they'd done on the other streets.

It was peaceful too.

It wasn't quiet.

Not at all.

But there was no cars and that was probably for the better.

They wouldn't fit on the narrow road anyway.

From the corner of her eye she could see Damian looking at her.

He hid it well, but she could see how amused he was.

It was fair since she'd forgotten about everything for a moment.

It wouldn't surprise her if she'd been gawking like a psycho.

She couldn't find it her to care.

"This is amazing."

And that didn't even start to describe it.

"This used to be Gotham's most popular shopping district in the 1800s. That was before the crime rate went up. It still used to be a bit higher than normal, but not big enough for it to matter." He walked in a calm pace onto the actual street.

It made her painfully aware that she was still hanging on to his arm.

He didn't seem to think anything of it and she was thankful for that.

She didn't really want to let go yet.

"Used to be?"

"Time goes. New buildings, shops and factories were being built and this place wasn't as important anymore. Now it's hidden between other buildings and somewhat forgotten." She wondered if he knew how good of a guide he actually was. "Gotham is a big city, but it's mostly the people with families that's lived here for many generations that still come here."

He'd taken her to the middle of it all.

There was shops all around her and the shopping windows were calling out to her.

Her heartbeat picked up when she realised what everything was.

She was standing in heaven.

Damian must be the angel sent to take her here.

He snorted next to her. "I can assure you I'm not an angel.

Her eyes went wide and she could feel her face heating up. "Please tell me I didn't say that out loud."

"Alright then." He pulled a scarily serious face. "You didn't just call me an angel sent to take you to heaven."

He was good and she would have believed him if not for the fact that he'd just repeated her very thoughts.

She just hid her face in her hands and prayed for the ground to swallow her whole.

"I can't believe I said that."

"Neither can I though I am curious why that would be your go to explanation."

She took a deep breath and peeked up.

Damian didn't look mad or taunting or anything else that would be a normal response to her traitorous mouth.

Maybe, it was okay.

Maybe, she didn't have to climb under a rock and die of eternal shame.

Maybe, she could just answer his question and move on.

"Well, it was either that or I'm dreaming and I'd honestly prefer if this wasn't a dream. If this is heaven I'll at least not have to leave anytime soon. Plus I'd be worried if I've gotten so lonely that my imagination has gone so far as to conjure up someone as perfect as you for my dreamworld."

It was oddly fascinating watching Damian go red.

Did it look like that when she blushed like a tomato?

But then he started going a bit purple and she found herself wondering how long she'd been staring.

At closer look Damian wasn't blushing.

He wasn't breathing either.

How do you get someone to start breathing?

Was it like that time Manon had started choking on her lunch?

Only one way to find out.

She hit him on the back.

Hard.

He surprisingly didn't react much physically, but his chest did start moving so she counted that as a win.

She let him collect himself.

What could have made him react like that?

Had it been something she'd said?

"Thanks." He took a deep breath held it for a few seconds and then let it out before continuing. "If you find this place equal with heaven I guess you wouldn't have anything against having a better look around."

"I'm surrounded by small cute shops with different craftsmanship, clothes and other things that probably will grab my interest somehow." She looked right into those emerald eyes. "It would be a crime not to take the time to properly explore."

He didn't break the eye contact. "Then it doesn't seem like we have much of a choice. It wouldn't do for us to become criminals, now would it?"

She grinned. "Good to know we're on the same page."

Damian once again held out his arm for her and she immediately took it.

"Where do you want to go first?"

Chapter Text

This girl was going to kill him.

They met ten minutes ago and he was already sure of it.

"Hm." She scanned the assortment of shops ahead of them until she lit up. "There."

Then she proceeded to drag him along to the thrift shop.

It would have been easy if she didn't forget that she was smaller than him and could get through smaller places.

It was a miracle that they got to the front door without accidents.

Marinette stopped right outside the storefront and took it all in.

Her excitement was palpable.

He made sure to get the door and hold it open for her.

The bell dinged and they both entered.

"I've always loved thrift stores." Marinette let her eyes wander and wore a small, but honest smile. "You never know what you'll find."

He'd never thought of it like that before, but he understood her point.

This place got donations and sold stuff at such speed that it was impossible to keep track of it all.

Not everyone had the money to buy everything new.

"Well then, let's see what we'll find this time."

They started by the shelves and moved further in.

Sometimes they made small comments about stuff, but it didn't take long.

Nothing really caught there interest until they were at the cloth racks.

He suspected they'd stay there for awhile.

Marinette lit up and started going through all the clothes.

He did to if only to try to understand what made her so excited.

"Look at this." She was holding up a black suit. "This is incredibly made. I'd guess it's from the fifties or something like that."

He tilted his head a bit. "I think I prefer that to modern ones."

She chuckled. "You don't strike me as a suit guy."

It went against his very being letting something like that go unchallenged.

"I don't like suits. That doesn't mean I can't pull them off."

Marinette had been clumsy and sweet and bubbly since the moment she crashed into him.

Maybe that was why he was so surprised when she put a hand on her hip and smirked at him.

"The thing is that I don't believe you." Her entire being screamed confident. "You are way too much of a bad boy to make a suit work for you."

She called him a bad boy.

It made a bigger impression than expected.

No one had ever accused him of being one to begin with.

Everyone only saw the Wayne.

It felt... good that someone could see past that even though she didn't exactly know he was a billionaire's son.

Strange, but good.

But then she'd also basically challenged him and he wouldn't take that laying down.

It wouldn't be him if he did.

So he smirked right back at her. "That sounds like a challenge. Are you sure you can handle that?"

"Oh, it's you I'm worried about." She hung up the suit she'd been holding without looking "I have a habit of being disappointed with pretty boys after all. They're a lot of talk, but when push comes to shove they have a tendency of falling short."

She was definitely different from other girls.

The good kind of different.

"Then it's good that I'm a bad boy and not a pretty boy."

"Well I guess we'll have to see if you live up to that bad boy status. How are we doing this?" She was rolling her shoulder.

"One outfit each. Whoever pulls it off best wins."

"Accessories?"

"Allowed."

"Shoes?"

"Of course."

"Time limit to gathering our outfits?"

"Five minutes."

"What do I get when I win?"

Her confidence was admirable.

But then she was a designer.

That's when it sunk in that he'd just challenged a girl that worked with fashion to a quite fashion related challenge.

It was a big possibility that he'd just set himself up for failure.

That didn't mean he was considering backing out.

That wasn't an option.

His pride wouldn't let him.

She had an advantage, but that didn't mean he would let her win just like that.

Her question made him think though.

"When I win I get to treat you later at the cafe three shops down."

"You mean when I win I get to treat you at the cafe."

He shook his head. "I meant what I said."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't argue.

He held out his hand. "May the best one win."

She looked at his outstretched hand a few seconds before taking it. "Doesn't really matter how it ends. I'm still the winner."

"Why do you say that?"

Marinette looked up at him with those blue eyes.

He was certain it was possible to actually drown in them.

"I got you to smile."

Chapter Text

She saw how he froze.

Damian slowly reached up with his hand to his face.

He quickly noticed the upturned corners of his mouth.

Her suspicion had been correct.

He didn't smile often.

She made it a point to ignore the butterflies in her stomach thinking how she'd made him smile.

Now, should she wait or should she take advantage of the situation?

Who was she kidding?

She was too competitive to let this go to waste.

"Ready, set, go!" She turned on her heel and ran down the aisle.

The image of Damian's face when he realised what she was doing had been priceless.

He'd definitively not expected it.

It had taken a few seconds for him to understand what was happening.

But she could contemplate that later.

Right now she had to find an outfit she could win with.

She made a sharp turn to the left when she caught sight of the dresses.

A tornado probably would have made less of an expression than she did on that rack.

Hangers were being pulled out and then back on in milliseconds.

Too flashy.

Too plain.

Too- was that blood?

Way too short.

Looked like something a cat had thrown up on.

Too low cut.

Pretty, but not enough.

Too half done.

Too- wait, that could work.

She had to rewind a bit and bring the dress back up for inspection.

Everything was quickly scanned for any faults.

Nothing.

It was perfect.

Then she started running again.

Where were shoes supposed to be?

Hm...

There.

A sharp turn to the right and a close call when she tripped over something was all it took for her to arrive at the footwear.

There was no real order for anything.

Heels were next to trainers and sandals were next to boots.

The sizes were all mixed up too.

She rolled up her sleeves and dove right in.

Shoes were flying everywhere and there was a chance that she lost one of her own somewhere, but she'd found what she'd been looking for so she considered that a success.

"How much time is left?"

She'd yelled loud enough for Damian to hear her wherever he might be.

"45 seconds."

He had to be on the other side of the clothing section by the sound of it.

Then her time limit sank in.

Once again she took to running and now she was sure of it.

She'd lost a shoe.

But more important was the deadline.

Thankfully no one other than Damian was there and she doubted he had enough peace of mind to actually watch what she was doing.

That was good because it meant no one saw her pull of some questionable acrobatics to get to the accessories in time.

Very questionable and very hard to explain.

Though she would have to explain how that clothes rack had moved five feet if anyone noticed.

She crossed her fingers no one did.

A near collision with the accessory section and she was ready to find something to make her outfit the best.

Wow.

Bags, jewellery, belts, scarves...

This place really had it all.

She had ten seconds left.

Her strategy was simple.

Grab anything that could possibly work and decide in the fitting room.

"Time's out."

Damian was closer this time and she looked around to try and find him.

He came from the same direction she'd just come from.

In his arms was a pile of material.

It was impossible for her to make out what he'd picked, but he was carrying a lot of black.

That was all she got.

Then she noticed his own appearance.

She felt no shame in admitting to staring. "What happened to you?"

He snorted and she could see some amusement in those eyes. "Let's say you have my respect."

She didn't understand.

It was a nice thing of him to say, but what did it have to do with his ragged appearance?

"Huh?"

Damian nodded towards the fitting rooms and they started heading over there.

"You're short and quite petite. I was more than a little worried earlier seeing that you were alone and could easily be attacked." He paused as they dumped there piles in respective fitting room. "Now I've been tripped over, gotten a flying shoe on the back of my head and had a clothing rack wheel into me. I'm not as worried anymore. You can apparently handle yourself adequately."

She kept her eyes shut and pressed her mouth shut. "I did that to you?"

She was such a klutz.

A hand landed on her shoulder and the only reason she didn't flip him over her shoulder was because she knew it was Damian.

But she hadn't heard him come up to her.

That had been scarily silent.

"It's fine, Marinette. I'm not hurt and I'm not angry either." She opened her eyes and found herself looking right at him. "If anything I'm impressed. You're a lot stronger than you look."

She could already feel herself blushing.

She swallowed. "It was nothing, really."

He apparently understood that she was slightly uncomfortable and needed space.

He took a few steps back and didn't deter at all. "Then I suppose we have a competition to get back to. And fair warning. I think I've got a winner."

How was it fair that he could read her so well?

"I'll have to be the judge of that, but I doubt you can top mine."

They both closed their curtains at the same time.

Then she did her best with what she had.

Fashion was her passion, but it was different when she hadn't made the clothes.

It reminded her of playing dress up when she was little and snuck into her mama's wardrobe.

It had always been so fun.

She let her hair out of the pigtails and brushed through her hair with her fingers.

The full length mirror was helpful to get everything just right.

A knock sounded from the wall beside her. "Are you ready?"

One last look in the mirror to make sure.

"Yeah. You?"

"I'm done. How are we doing this?"

"On three?

"Sounds good."

They counted together.

1

There was no reason for her to be this nervous.

2

She took a deep breath and braced herself.

3

They both emerged from behind the curtains.

Neither said anything.

They looked each other over with wide eyes.

He was the one to break the silence.

"You are definitely the angel."

Chapter Text

She was spluttering.

A lot.

Low self-esteem then.

He chose to wait so she could collect herself.

She actually counted to three and then she was relatively fine again.

"You can't say stuff like that."

One of his eyebrows rose. "You can't call me an angel sent to take you the heaven and then come out dressed like that."

Marinette looked into the mirror and looked herself over.

Somethings you just needed to see to believe.

The dress she'd picked was formfitting and white with lace all over.

It went down to her mid thigh.

Her hair was falling freely and she was wearing low, white heels.

She was wearing a few pieces of jewellery that complimented the outfit perfectly.

By the way she looked she could have walked right out of heaven.

If she told him she was an angel he'd have trouble doubting her.

Marinette turned back so she was facing him. "Okay, I get where you're coming from, but you don't really have room to say anything Mr. Devil's Advocate."

He did not chuckle.

He didn't.

"Devil's advocate?"

She nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes. You look just like the kind of guy girls would sell their soul to without realising it. Green really is your colour."

Honestly, everyone kept telling him green made is eyes pop or something like that.

Wearing a black suit with green detailing had been a conscious choice.

He was more interested in the first part.

Most girls knew better than to get close.

At least Gotham girls, but they had a good sense of self preservation.

The same could not be said about most others he'd been unfortunate to meet on various galas in other cities.

But Marinette hadn't run for the hills yet and she wasn't from around here.

She must be one of those exceptions.

Why not humour her?

"So I'm the devil's advocate and you are an angel hiding in plain sight."

"Yep," she agreed. Her eyes were checking out his outfit again. "And I'll even admit that you were right. You can definitely make a suit work for you, but you still look like a bad boy. Not the mean kind. More like someone a dad wouldn't want his daughter near."

His eyebrows were probably in his hairline by the end. "Is that your way of telling me your father wouldn't approve of this?"

Then the most angelic sound he'd ever heard came out of her mouth in the form of laughter.

He was painfully aware about how she placed a hand on her hip.

Most people wouldn't have noticed how she used her fingers to steady herself through her stomach.

He wasn't most people.

"Papan knows better than to judge by appearances." She took a few breaths to recover from laughing. "And your also my friend. That gives you the benefit of the doubt."

It was getting difficult to breath.

He felt hot all of a sudden and he knew he didn't have a fever.

His heart was racing.

Her words were going through his mind on repeat and he didn't know what to do with that.

Friend.

She called him a friend.

No one had ever done that before.

In fifteen years he'd never been called a friend before.

Brother. Son. Partner.

Never friend.

Now there was a girl in front of him that was practically a stranger that called him a friend.

Him.

"You've barely known me for an hour," he croaked out.

She just shrugged. "And?"

Then she went back into her fitting room and pulled the curtain.

He was left standing there with wide eyes not really knowing what to do with himself.

She acted like it wasn't a big thing.

It was a huge thing.

Was this what Grayson meant when he asked him to make friends?

Was this what friends did?

Was this normal?

Somewhere, buried deep within him, he longed for it to be true.

At the same time he hoped it wasn't.

Because if it was, then it wasn't special.

Was it wrong of him to want this to be unique?

To be just between him and Marinette?

He'd only just met her.

There was so much he didn't know about her.

How could it be that he wanted to know her?

Everything about her.

What did she believe in? What made her happy? Where did she want to be in ten years?

He wanted to know it all.

It would be easy to look her up and find out everything from her dental records to her search history.

But that wasn't what he wanted.

He wanted her to tell him herself.

Draw his own conclusions from interactions.

See for himself.

It was illogical and unnecessary.

It didn't make sense.

His stomach was feeling strange and he'd swear his heart was about to beat straight out of his chest.

This had never happened before.

He mentally crosschecked his symptoms with all diseases he knew of.

Nothing fit.

Except...

No.

Heaven help him.

This couldn't be happening.

It was impossible.

"Someday Lil'D, you'll fall in love. You won't see it coming. It's just gonna happen. You'll get butterflies in your stomach and you'll feel it in your heart. And then you'll just know."

Please, don't let it be that he was falling in love with the first person to genuinely want to be his friend.

But then he had to open his eyes just in time to see her come back out.

Wishing wouldn't work this time.

He was already screwed.

Chapter Text

When she'd come out of the fitting room he'd still been in the exact same place she'd left him.

He'd been staring a lot, but then he'd shut his eyes tight for a few seconds.

After that he snapped out of it.

She didn't really understand it, but who was she to judge?

What followed was an intense argument over who'd actually won their challenge.

They both thought the other had been better.

Somehow he managed to trick her into accepting the win.

Normally she would have taken it further, but her logical side wouldn't accept that.

She wanted to treat him to a coffee.

If that meant she had to admit defeat in an argument over who could admit defeat in a competition then so be it.

That didn't mean it was over though.

Not in a million years.

Not after he'd given her that smug look.

Once again he held the door open for her as they left the thrift store. "Where would you like to go next?"

And wasn't that a question?

There were so many possibilities.

She took a look around and lit up

"There." She pointed out a jeweller. Then she heard how she sounded. "Only if you're okay with that. I'd understand if you don't want to."

Damian furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would I be bothered by it?"

He was genuinely confused.

She didn't know how she could tell since he didn't use facial expressions like normal people, much less describe it.

She just could.

"It's..." She gathered all the courage she had. "I just don't want you to think I'm too bossy."

She expected a few reactions.

Most of them she could admit were far fetched and probably quite ridiculous.

The point was that she was prepared for most of the ways he could answer her.

Him rolling his eyes and shaking his head was not any of those.

She could even see a hint of a smile!

"Angel, you are hardly bossy." He walked towards the jeweller, but didn't take his eyes away from hers. "You are excited. There's a difference. A rather large one at that. It's cute."

Her heartbeat was going crazy by the end and she stopped in the middle of the road..

"You called me Angel."

"It fits."

She put on her best innocent expression. "Since I'm so cute?"

He didn't react like she'd expected this time either.

He shook his head. "No, I said the way you are behaving is cute." He paused. "If I'd been commenting on how you look I would have called you stunning."

Then he had the audacity to turn right around and continue walking.

Her heart could probably beat right out of her chest by the way it was going.

How was it fair that he could be smooth like that?

It shouldn't be possible for him to tug at her heartstrings like that.

Heartstrings?

Yeah, no.

She was not walking down that road.

Nuh-uh.

Not today.

That was not happening.

Not in a million years.

He was too far out of her league.

"Are you coming?"

She mentally thanked him for breaking that line of thought as she jogged to catch up to him.

He'd barely walked ten feet before stopping to wait for her.

She decided to ignore the warm feeling that gave her.

"Any interesting facts about this place?"

She'd been teasing and didn't expect him to actually answer.

"It's run by two sisters in their mid thirties, Kya and Leah. They make all the pieces by themselves and have done so for about ten years." He stopped at the shopping window when he saw how her eyes were straying there. "They started it up when they got out of prison. No one knows how they got the money for it and no one is going to ask either."

She blinked a few times, but didn't pull her eyes away from the beautiful necklaces and bracelets on display.

"Prison?"

He nodded. "Most common theory is that they got locked up for grand theft and assault of an officer, but once again, no one's been able to prove anything."

The worst thing was that she couldn't tell if he was joking.

Common sense was telling her that he was, but that didn't really feel right.

And he had that spark in his eyes.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Question was what he expected her to do.

"Is it normal to discuss people's alleged criminal pasts here?"

Neither denying or confirming where her belief laid.

Perfect.

Being a tourist definitely worked in he favour this time.

"Something like that." He thought it over before explaining. "Having a criminal history or a less than spotless past isn't something anyone gets judged for in Gotham. It's something everybody knows, but nobody really cares about. Most people here has at least boken some minor laws."

That made some sense.

A twisted and depressing sense, but it did.

"Have you?" She headed for the door. "Broken any laws?"

He followed her inside and thankfully he didn't seem put off by her question.

Damian gave a small and rather sly smile that bordered onto a smirk. "There might have been been some regulations on motorcycle driving that I just forgot to read up on."

Something she'd noticed during the little time she'd known him was that he was smart.

Really smart.

But so was she.

He wasn't lying about the motorcycle.

No, she wasn't doubting him about that.

But he never said it was the only time he'd gone against the law.

It didn't bother her as much as it should.

She'd broken her fair share of laws herself.

Phone theft had practically become a hobby by now.

Damian had no reason to tell her and she could respect that.

It didn't stop her from wondering.

Chapter Text

They looked into several shops after the jeweller.

A pottery, a glassmaker and a seamstress to speak of a few.

The seamstress had been a real hit with Marinette.

Lunchtime finally arrived and they made their way to the cafe.

He pulled out a chair for her at a small outside table.

The smile she'd given could easily be classified as blinding.

And then they talked.

Conversation had never been easy, but it became as simple as breathing with her.

She truly was special.

They'd talked about all possible things.

Somehow they ended up on the subject of superheroes.

Angel had some strong opinions.

That's for sure.

"I mean come on! Underwear on the outside. What is Superman thinking?"

He happily listened as she trashed most heroes' fashion sense.

Then they slipped onto Paris and that had been some revelation.

Evil butterflies.

Emotion exploiting terrorist.

Questionable superhero team.

Why not?

But he'd be having a long talk with father when he got home.

Because really?

How did everyone miss something like that?

Thankfully the waitress came with their order or he wouldn't be able to keep any frowns from peeking out.

Well, any more frowns.

"Two cappuccinos, a greek sallad and a hot chicken sandwich," she named the items as she put them down. "Enjoy your date!"

And she was gone leaving both of them to gape as loons with wide eyes.

Did she?

Were they?

How?

"Is this a date?" she asked weakly.

"How should I know?" He sounded slightly hysterical.

Maybe, a bit more than slightly.

But what classified as a date?

He'd never been on one so he didn't have any clue at all.

This was unfamiliar territory.

"This feels like a date." She was still very wide eyed.

Those big bluebells really made her cute.

Bad Damian.

Not the time.

"But we bumped into each other." He tried to get a grip on the situation. "This wasn't planned. We've taken things as they've come. We've had no schedule or plans whatsoever. We only met a few hours ago."

"You make it sound like we decided to go on a spontaneous blind date."

"No, we..." He thought about it. "Did we? Doesn't a date have to be planned?"

"Should I know that? The only date I've ever been on was with my best friend."

Great.

They had passed wild panic and moved on to confusion.

Amazing progression.

"It's getting painfully obvious that we aren't experienced or knowledgeable enough to settle this so what are we supposed to do?"

She flagged down another waitress. "Excuse me, but what qualifies as a date?"

The waitress blinked.

It wasn't surprising.

Defining social terms was probably not in her job description.

She looked them both over.

Marinette's eyes were pleading for an answer.

"Do you want it to be a date?"

And to those words his world shattered.

Good thing was that he wasn't alone.

Marinette might be going through her own meltdown by the looks of it.

It got worse the more he thought over their time together so far.

He already knew he liked her.

But not that it was this bad already.

Come on!

He'd just met her.

Think.

What to do?

His next idea wasn't something easy to go through with.

But, well.

He always was more of an act first, think later person.

It had been a long time since he'd gotten out of that habit, but sometimes it could be useful.

"I would like this to be a date."

And it was done.

He'd said it.

There was impossible to take it back now.

He didn't want to either.

At least not yet.

He might change his mind when he knew how she'd react.

Marinette.

Her reaction didn't really tell him anything.

She stared at him and hadn't moved an inch since he spoke.

Did he do something wrong?

Was this the part where she runs away screaming?

It would be a lot later than normal, but it wasn't that hard to believe.

He always screwed up with girls.

Not that he usually cared.

Not at all.

Except he really didn't want Marinette to leave.

He already knew he'd be disappointed if she did.

It had been going so well too.

Why, oh why, did the word date have to come up?

Who was he kidding?

Bad luck seemed to follow him.

She snapped out of it as if struck. "Do you'd? No, do'd you? Ugh!" Marinette shut her eyes tight before she tried again. "You do?"

Right.

He'd said that he'd like this to be a date.

In for a dime, in for a dollar.

"Why wouldn't I? You're a incredible girl from what I've seen. You're creative, funny, smart..." He saw her wide eyed look and decided to move on. "What I meant to say is that this can be a date without us being awkward about it. We could just continue on like we have. And if you later feel that it's best for it to be a one time thing then we'll leave it at that."

Difficult to say.

He didn't want it to be a one time thing.

But she was uncomfortable and needed to have choices.

He knew better than to try to force her to go out with him.

That wouldn't end well for anyone.

Especially not her.

This liking a girl stuff was harder than he'd thought.

"No strings attached?" she asked to make sure.

He shook his head. "No strings attached."

"You'd be perfectly fine with never seeing me again if I say I don't want to."

"No, that would mean I didn't care to begin with. I would do my best to respect your wishes though and if that means never seeing you again so be it."

And he meant every word.

He tried his best to convey that he was genuine, but he had no idea if she caught it.

His stomach tightened as she searched for any lies.

Was he nervous?

This was far worse than he'd thought.

But then she smiled again.

"Let'd give this a shot then."

Chapter Text

Later in the evening

"I approve."

Tikki was caught off guard. "You haven't even met him."

"You've just described how our bug literally walked into a boy that is as much of an emotional mess as she is. Maybe, not in the same way, but close enough. They're perfect for each other." Plagg yawned. "Do you think he likes camembert?"

She facepalmed.

She loved Plagg to pieces, but sometimes...

"I'm not even done yet! I'm serious Plagg. They were so sweet together. And that boy. A true gentlemen. He's really wonderful. You should have seen them."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't go all mushy on me." She rose an eyebrow and he winked slyly. "I have a reputation to maintain."

It was unusual for the kwami of creation to roll her eyes, but she thought it justified this time.

She didn't stay mad long.

It was impossible when her bug finally had a good day.

And with a boy!

"Remember how Marinette won their competition so she would get to pay at the cafe?"

"How could I forget that?" He leaned in closer.

"When she asked for the bill the waitress told her it had already been paid. Damian never left his seat and neither did Marinette. We can't figure out how he did it."

Plagg cackled.

"Please, tell me she got his number!"

"-and I trust everything went smoothly during today's activities."

Ms. Bustier nodded towards the screen where Principal Damocles were.

"We had loads of fun. There wasn't even any problems between Lila and Marinette today. I think that girl is finally taking my words to heart and starting to set a better example. She didn't cause any unnecessary ruckus at all."

"I will need to duel him to make certain he is worthy of your attention."

Marinette chuckled. "You have an unfair advantage."

The Japanese girl shrugged. "I'll go easy on him. At first."

There wasn't any point in trying to dissuade her.

It wouldn't work.

"She'll have to ask him out first." Marinette was about to thank Luka. "Then we can threaten him."

Or not.

Her friends were protective.

"That's true." Kagami nodded. "He did leave it up to you. Are you going to?"

And Marinette didn't know.

Luka caught it. "It might not lead to anything. You won't know for sure unless you try. Just, take some time to think about it."

Alfred watched as the family got ready to head down to the cave for the night.

First they'd somehow all ended up in the kitchen for some kind of pre-patrol snack.

The definition of "snack" varied.

It ranged from large mugs of coffee to a rather ridiculous amount of waffles or even a few bowl of sugary cereal.

They were all doing what most part time vigilantes would do in a kitchen.

Sharing information.

Gossiping with other words.

It was about all the latest in the superhero world.

And a bit about everything else they could think of.

Then they all finished up and started heading down to get suited up for their nightly escapades.

Everyone except Master Damian.

He were still seated at the table with his sketchbook and his empty cup of tea.

Alfred observed as he added some finishing touches on whatever drawing he was currently working on before closing the book, setting away his cup and following the others.

Usually the family butler wouldn't, but something had been off with the young master this evening and he couldn't deny that he was curious.

What he found in the sketchbook surprised him which very little could do.

There were the usual drawings.

Animals and family members.

But there were something else too.

Multiple drawings depicted a young lady in all different kinds of settings.

One especially caught his eye.

It was the girl sitting at a cafe.

Care had gone into the picture to truly capture the very essence of the soul shown.

Sparkling eyes and a smile that said so much.

Caught in the middle of a soft laugh with the sun shining brightly behind her.

He closed the book and put it down on the table.

He had a feeling it wouldn't be the last he saw of that girl.

Chapter Text

She was on cloud nine.

Only one thing filled her mind the entire evening.

Damian.

How lucky of her to run into him.

And he was perfect.

Well, not really, but he was as perfect as anyone could be in her eyes.

He was smart, snarky and a real dork.

And on top of that he was honest as well.

Very honest.

Honest to the point of being rude.

He didn't tell her everything and she hadn't expected him to either.

She quickly learned that it was always best to check his words carefully to find any loopholes.

Like when she questioned him at the cafe he said that he hadn't asked for the bill.

She was good at picking out lies.

That had not been one.

She didn't mind.

It was like a puzzle and she loved those.

She also had to find out how Damian had paid the bill because it was obvious that it had been him.

It hadn't taken her long to figure out that he wasn't good with emotions or people in general.

Maybe that was why he said things as he saw them and didn't understand how it could be seen as rude.

There had been a few times where she had to actually think about what he said before reacting.

Then when she finally got what he meant she'd laugh or blush.

She'd done a lot of both today.

More than she could remember doing in a long time.

He'd made her forget about Lila and everyone for some hours.

It had surprised her when she first noticed.

It had been nice.

She enjoyed the day far more than she'd expected even though it didn't really go as planned.

Thanks to Damian.

He'd stood by his word after lunch and acted like nothing had happened at all.

They went through a couple more stores before he took her back to her hotel.

They'd talked most of the time.

Sassing each other.

Joking.

Getting to know each other.

The afternoon had only solidified her belief that he was the most amazing guy in existence.

Her stomach kept doing somersaults every time he called her Angel or said some offhand comment of flattery.

Well, it would be flattery if he actually noticed what he was doing.

It was incredible that he hadn't killed her.

That would have been something.

Death by cute boy's overly sweet compliments.

Good thing she'd be dead because she'd never be able to live that one down.

Kagami, Luka and Tikki teased her enough as it was.

The point was that Damian had spent a whole day with her instead of doing whatever he'd been supposed to do.

With her.

Her.

Of all possible people.

And don't forget that it was a date.

It might have been decided in the middle of it all, but it was definitely a date.

He'd said straight out that he wanted it to be a date.

That wasn't how it was supposed to go or at least she didn't think so.

It worked for them and that was what was important.

She went to sleep with a smile on her lips.

She wouldn't mind going on another date with him after all.

Not in the slightest.

Marinette.

It suited her.

It was a name that could be many things.

A name for a serious and hard working person.

A name suited for a bubbly and blushing school girl.

A name of a leader, a boss.

He had a feeling she was all of the above.

As he said.

It suited her well.

A name with many sides.

Just as her.

He liked that about her.

She could be challenging and sassing him one moment to then blush madly the next.

It made her very real.

She had dimensions.

And she was observant.

He'd seen her notice things other people wouldn't bat an eye at.

She could somehow understand what he meant, where others would have jumped to conclusions.

There were also the spring in her step.

The strength in her arms when she pulled him along or threw shoes at him.

The way she catalogued every possible exit.

Something he did too.

He had a feeling she wasn't someone to go down easily in a fight.

It didn't help that people would underestimate her.

She could be dangerous if she wanted to.

But she was the sweetest girl he'd ever met and she still seemed to enjoy spending time with him.

She was certainly unique.

It had even been a challenge to pay the bill.

He'd had to write a note without her noticing.

Then he'd put it and enough money to cover their lunch and a generous tip in the waitress apron without anyone noticing at all.

He'd put it so that she'd notice it when she went for her notebook.

It worked, but it had been difficult to do without Marinette noticing.

Difficult indeed.

It was worth it for her face when she asked for the bill though.

Her glare was nothing to scoff at, but it wasn't quite on the same level of a batglare.

Close though.

The whole day had been a big step up from just wandering in search of inspiration.

Marinette was a wonderful girl and he'd be crushed if she didn't make use of his number.

He admitted it.

That girl had him hooked and he didn't mind at all.

He took one last look at one of his best drawings so far before he closed the book.

Then he went out on patrol.

Chapter Text

How was she supposed to play this?

Because she'd slept on it and she was sure.

She really wanted to go for another date with him.

That's where it got tricky.

She would have to contact him.

He didn't have her number and the possibility for them to somehow randomly meet again in such a big city was slim to none.

The question was how.

Should she call or would a text be better.

A call would be more personal, but a simple text message wouldn't give her as much of a chance to mess things up.

And what was she going to say?

When was she going to do it?

She might come off as uninterested if she waited too long.

She could come off as too eager if she did it at six in the morning.

When to?

Hm.

She'd fallen in love before.

Quickly and very hard.

It hadn't ended well.

She should probably wait a few hours.

Make sure it wasn't a heat of the moment thing.

It didn't feel like it, but who knew?

No rush.

She'd do it sometime today.

They got to Gotham Academy and were given a quick tour of the place.

They were going to spend the entire day there, but they were supposed to sit in on the classes.

The most exclusive school in the city had been one of the least looked forward to parts of the trip, but secretly everyone were a bit excited.

She had high hopes for the day.

It started going the right direction when the class were split up to different classrooms.

Guess who was alone.

The rest of the students had already been taken to their first class and Marinette was the only one left.

They went up a few stairs and through two hallways.

At one point she got this feeling that someone was following them.

She checked multiple times in both mirrors and out right, but there was never anyone there.

The feeling didn't go away until she went inside the classroom.

"Right, class. This is Marinette. She'd from France and will be with us today." The teacher turned to her. "Feel free to take whatever seat is still available."

Okay, there were three free spots in the room.

Two in the front and one in the back.

The two in front were next to a blonde girl and a blond guy respectively.

The girl wasn't paying attention.

Too busy applying make-up.

The guy was checking her out.

Not subtle at all.

Then there was the seat in the back.

A girl with deep red hair that her head in a book.

Marinette made her choice.

"Is it okay if I sit here?"

The girl looked up from her book and smiled. "Sure. Ice prince isn't here anyway."

She smiled back as she sat down. "I'm Marinette."

"Azalea," the girl said and the lesson began.

She never wanted to leave.

A normal class without anyone spinning tales.

No backstabbers insulting her all the time.

A teacher that could actually do their job.

If she was dreaming don't wake her up.

She didn't notice the figure watching her from the window.

"So where are you headed next?" Azalea was packing her bag without even looking.

"Right, wait. I've got a schedule somewhere. Ah, it's right here."

The girl lit up a bit as she read through it. "Guess you're stuck with me for the rest of the day. We have the same classes."

"We do?" She could feel a smile coming on.

Azalea had been so nice during the English lesson and had explained what was going on when needed.

They'd exchanged a few notes too.

It was impressive how good that girl was at exchanging them without anyone noticing.

"Yep. We have French in fifteen minutes." The girl's eyes widen as she remembered something. "And you're from France. This is perfect. We're going practice conversing this week and I was worried I'd be stuck with someone that can't keep up. Would you be willing to be my partner."

"You speak French?"

"Mostly. I usually partner with Mr. Ice Prince since he's the only other one in class that are fluent, but he had some family matters to attend to for a few days." An eye roll accompanied that.

"Ice Prince. Is he the one you usually sit with? You mentioned him earlier."

Azalea nodded as they continued navigating the hallways. "He is and that is probably because I'm the only one he gets along with."

"That wouldn't have anything to do with the name, would it?" She'd be surprised if it didn't.

"Oh, yes. He's frosty to everyone and not really a people person hence the nickname." Paus. "He is Bruce Wayne's youngest son. Most of the kids here just wanted to get close for the connections in the beginning. Now no one gets close unless necessary."

"He can't be that bad."

Her new friend snorted. "Trust me. He doesn't melt for anyone. He'd take one look at you and eat you alive."

"Hm, that reminds me of this girl that fences at my school. A real Ice Queen. She made it quite clear she wanted nothing to do with anyone. Especially me."

They entered a classroom and took seats at the back.

Azalea was definitely the curious type. "And I'm guessing you didn't take no for an answer. What did you do? Did you get her expelled? Prank her?"

And Marinette smiled.

"I made her my best friend."

Chapter Text

It was 9 AM and everything was purple.

It usually was when it involved Brown.

So all the possible tones of purple it was.

And it really was everywhere.

The furniture was purple.

The cushions were purple.

The towels were purple.

The pool was filled with purple floaties.

Floaties.

The cake would be purple and so would probably all the other snacks be.

The worst was that it somehow worked.

Don't ask him how, but all the purple complimented each other perfectly.

It looked expensive, sophisticated, young and like every little girl's biggest dream.

Were they sure that Brown was 17?

They waited.

His brothers, Cassandra, Gordon, Pennyworth and he himself.

They all kept the patio door within their sights.

The atmosphere was tense as they waited with baited breaths.

Everyone was ready when Brown came running outside and waved the papers.

An inhumane shriek exited her mouth as she literally jumped up and down. "It's official! I'M A WAYNE!"

Her announcement made them all lose their minds.

What other reason could there be for everyone to be hugging, and jumping, and shrieking?

At least father seemed somewhat put together.

He chose to ignore the minuscule hints of tears in his eyes.

That was not a road he wanted to walk down.

The point was that the uproar didn't stop until 341 seconds had passed.

He counted.

"You all did this for me?" Brown was crying lightly.

Cassandra nodded.

"Even Lil'd helped. He made all the paper flowers that are, well, everywhere." Grayson was of course bouncing.

The blonde girl looked at him in shock. "He did?"

"Yep, though we did have to send him drawing when it came to putting everything up." Drake wasn't happy about that.

"He and Tim fought within the first hour. I got it on video. I'll show you later," Todd promised.

He only scowled.

The pool party commenced and when lunch came around they would barbecue.

Todd handled the grill while Pennyworth prepared everything in the kitchen.

It was for the best.

They were the only ones that wouldn't burn the manor to the ground without trying.

Multiple close calls had made it a point to keep the rest of them out of the kitchen.

Well, not him.

He could handle simple things like making a sallad or basic meals, but that was never to be known by the others.

His siblings could never find out.

Then suddenly he was flying into the pool.

And he'd just dried off too.

Brown stood at the edge of the pool doubled over in laughter.

She wasn't the only one laughing.

Even father!

Treachery.

That would not go unpunished.

This meant war.

It didn't hit him until they had to stop to eat that he would never have participated in a water fight much less instigated it before.

Before Marinette.

Great, one date with her and his walls were crumbling.

Badly.

Did any protocol exist for a situation like this?

But maybe, just maybe, it wasn't such a terrible thing.

He closed his eyes and let it all wash over him.

The delicious smell of the food and the sun on his back.

All the tidbits of conversations held.

"Hopefully they'll stay in Arkham for some time. We just put the last major rogue in and some of us would really like to catch up with everything."

"She did? You have to get me the security footage for that one!"

"I'm mostly free tomorrow. I could handle giving a tour of WE. It's not like it's supposed to take all day."

"That dress was amazing, but did you see the shoes? Those heels were to die for. Sparkles. So much sparkles."

"Bruce! Family movie night is mandatory. No excuses."

Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

In ten minutes some fight or argument or competition would probably break out.

Up to then it could maybe qualify as a semi normal family meal.

It would be a stretch, but it could work.

And even later in the evening they'd suit up and head out on the streets.

Rooftop tag was a real possibility with everyone in such a good mood.

They's bust some criminals and the comms would be filled with insipid chatter.

Normal might not be the word actually.

Strange would fit better.

It surprised him that he didn't mind as much as he usually did.

Marinette had definitely changed him in the short time he'd known her.

Changed wasn't really right either.

It was weird.

He still felt like himself, but calmer.

Settled.

More at peace?

The urge to groan was there.

Did love make everyone so incredibly sappy?

That wouldn't do.

No one had noticed anything, except Pennyworth who looked at him as if he knew something, but that wouldn't last forever.

Get a grip.

Sappiness could find somewhere else to be.

His head was off limits.

The calm could stay though.

He allowed himself one more look around before he'd return to reality.

Family may not be as useless as he'd thought.

Chapter Text

Marinette learned a lot of things during the morning.

One of the big ones was that she'd befriended a genius.

Azalea wasn't the stereotypical nerd with glasses that constantly recited information she'd read.

Not by a long shot.

But that girl knew her stuff.

She was smart.

Maybe, that's why Marinette wasn't surprised that she figured it out by lunch.

She'd taken her seat in the back of the cafeteria with her back to the corner.

The tray in front of her had some of the best looking food she'd seen.

Slowly each second ticked by.

Where was she?

Then she finally spotted Azalea.

The girl was coming towards her with firm footsteps and a very annoyed face.

Had she done something wrong?

"Your class is awful." And then she slammed her tray down.

"What happened?"

"Some french student came up to me when you left." This wouldn't be good. "They were more than happy to tell me all about what a terrible person you are. How you've been such a bully to the weeping Italian. Stealing, vandalising, pushing... Should I go on?"

Please, don't let this be the moment she lost another friend.

She panicked. "I didn't bully anyone. That girl, the Italian, has been lying since she came to the class and when I tried to stop her she just turned them all on me. I promise! I didn't do anything."

She begged her to understand.

To believe her.

Azalea scoffed. "I'm not an idiot. Anyone with any common sense at all would know that the tales that girl spins are lies. Bad ones too. They also seem to believe that I don't understand french."

Okay.

"You believe me?"

And oh, she sounded way to insecure.

That hadn't happened in a while.

But Azalea didn't mind and simply put her arm around her shoulders. "Of course. You're my friend. Even if I'd somehow lost all my brain cells and fallen for a single thing that came out of their mouths I'd always consider what you're saying before forming my opinion."

She felt like laughing.

A smile was enough though. "And what opinion do you have now?"

"That you should get out of that class abuse and never look back." No hesitation whatsoever.

Might be an opinion to take into consideration too actually.

She'd think about it later.

"Probably." She shrugged. "Was the lies the reason you stormed over here in rage?"

"No. That only made me think less of them as people and worry about your mental health." Those green eyes took on a murderous sharpness. "But the things they said to each other in french? The things they called you? I had to get away or I would have punched someone in the face."

"I'm proud of you for walking away without breaking any noses."

That was in no way because she was a saint herself, because she wasn't.

She'd punched her fair share of people.

There was a time and place for punching people though and she did not want Azalea to get in trouble for her sake.

"I wouldn't have broken her nose." Marinette doubted that. She'd noticed her muscles. "I would have gone for the jaw. It hurts more."

"You've put way to much thought into this to have walked away."

Azalea's eyes rolled skyward. "Nurse Ella is already busy today so I wouldn't want to make it worse for her."

"And you know that how?" Her eyebrows had shot up.

Azalea gave her an incredulous look. "I want to be a doctor. Are you really surprised I know the nurse?"

The afternoon continued on.

She still couldn't shake the feeling that someone was following her.

But no one was ever there when she looked.

At least until the last lesson.

That's when she caught a quick look at her stalker.

Less than a minute later she left the classroom with a hall pass in hand and headed to the bathroom across the hall.

She didn't have to wait long for him to arrive.

He phased through the wall.

"Plagg."

"Bug."

Unfortunately Tikki wasn't with her since she was sleeping in the bag she'd left in the classroom.

"Do you need anything?"

Why else would he be following her everywhere?

He nodded and floated up to her eye height.

It was a testament of how serious this was if he was serious.

"I'm officially asking you, as the guardian, to take back the miraculous from my current holder."

There was a few things in that sentence that was wrong.

Most of all the fact that he'd already told her she should take Chat Noir's miraculous a while ago.

She'd agreed, but couldn't do anything without knowing who he was.

Too bad the only human that knew had lost his memories.

But there was another thing too.

"Officially?"

And there was no mistaking the smirk on the kwami's face.

He had a plan.

"Well, I really need to stress to you that I can't take it anymore. He's not letting me have any camembert while we're here because 'it's a expensive and exclusive school where I can't go around smelling like stinky cheese'." The imitation of Chat Noir was impressive.

Wait.

Back up.

Crap.

He's in the school.

Her class was the only class beside the usual ones that were here.

Chat Noir is in her class.

And everyone had been akumatized except herself and one other.

Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir.

The rest of that lesson was spent planning.

She would sneak into his room tonight and grab the ring.

Whens, whats and what ifs had to be taken in account.

She was ready to do it.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Again?"

She and Azalea were standing right outside the school.

They were also starring at the bus that just left.

Her bus.

Azalea turned to her. "Again?"

Her eyes didn't leave the bus and her eyebrows had probably reached her hairline. "Happened yesterday too. Got a friend though so I was fine."

She wasn't surprised this time either.

"They left you behind in the city that's most known for it's high crime rate. Twice"

"Probably won't notice this time either. They're going out for dinner."

Azalea pinched the bridge of her nose and counted to twenty in five different languages.

She didn't look at her until she was done.

Then Azalea looked done with the stupidity. "You're more than welcome at my place. We could make pizza for dinner."

"This is the park where they left me yesterday."

That lead to a few incredulous looks. "You're class keeps surprising me. I thought they'd already reached the limit of possible stupidity."

"I told you they left me in a park before we even left school grounds."

"You did forget to mention that it was this park."

"What's so special about it? I mean except that the flowers bloom the entire year."

Azalea shook her head. "I forget that you're not from around here. This park is considered Poison Ivy's. She comes here all the time to care for the garden. People know better than to disturb her even though she's calmed down a bit the last few years. She's not someone you want to mess with. Makes for cheap apartments."

They went through the park and crossed the road to get there.

Top floor.

"Are your parents home?"

"Mom is. Dad is out of the picture."

"Sorry. I didn't know."

Azalea only smiled. "Of course, you didn't. Doesn't bother me anyway. Never met the guy."

They stepped through the door and came straight into a living room.

A woman was sitting on the sofa with a laptop.

It was quite obvious that Azalea got her looks from her mother.

"Hi, mom. This is Marinette. She's from France and has been in my class today. Marinette, this is my mom. She's writing a book at the moment."

The woman stood up and held fort her hand to shake. "Nice to meet you, Marinette."

She smiled. "Pleasure's mine."

"I'll be in here if you need anything. Are you staying for dinner?"

And she knew that look right there.

Her maman got the same one when Kagami or Luka came over.

Usually right before she manipulated people into staying to eat.

There was only one thing to do.

"Azalea said something about making pizza."

"And have you texted him yet?"

"Well..."

Azalea groaned and generally looked like she was dying. "Marinette."

She threw her hands in the air. "What am I supposed to do? I'll end up sending something I'll never be able to live down. I just know it."

"That's the good thing about texts." Azalea spun around on her office chair. "You can try writing them out to see how they look until you're happy with it."

That wasn't a half terrible idea.

She grabbed her phone and started typing.

Then she deleted it and tried again.

"No, that won't work. Too awkward! No, no, no! Definitely not." She paused for a second and read through the latest one. "That's probably the worst text I've ever written. No. This would leave me with a restraining order instead of a date. Not happening. Ugh. Yeah, nope." She dropped the phone and looked at it as if it had personally offended her. "This. Isn't. Working."

And Azalea chuckled and picked up the phone to start typing, but stopped. "A devil emoji? Really?" Marinette nodded. "Okay, I don't even know the name of the guy, but what about this?"

The phone was held out for her and she took it back and read. "No. There's no way I'm sending this."

"Isn't that exactly what you're thinking?"

"Well, yeah. But he will think I'm weird! What if he doesn't want a second date anymore? And I sound like a psycho too."

Then she went to delete it, but slipped.

Her phone went flying and she fumbled to catch it.

The relief was immense when it didn't smash onto the floor in a thousand itty bitty pieces.

But then the sound came.

She closed her eyes tight and pressed her lips together.

She had to bite her tongue not to scream.

Azalea's voice were lower than usual. "Did you just send it?"

She could only nod.

Hi. Thought a lot about it and have realised I really like you. When do you want to meet for a second date? / Marinette

Chapter Text

The happy adoption party eventually ended early afternoon.

He got sent away when the cleaning was beginning.

It was probably for the best.

That happened to be about the time he got a text.

Hi. Thought a lot about it and have realised I really like you. When do you want to meet for a second date? / Marinette

He wasn't equipped to handle this alone.

He knocked on the door.

Light footsteps made their way to the other side of the door and opened it.

It was Azalea's mother.

One look at his face was apparently enough. "Azalea! It's for you."

Then she ushered him to the kitchen.

Azalea came out of her room.

"Are we friends?"

The girl stopped and blinked. "I like to think so."

Good.

That was good.

"Then I'm in dire need of your assistance."

The red head took a few steps closer and looked him over. "Are you feeling alright? You never ask for help."

"That may normally be true, but I'm afraid I'm a bit in over my head." He started pacing back and forth slowly. "I met this girl."

"Sorry to tell you, but you've done that before. I am a girl and you've met me."

"Let me finish." It disappointed him that his glare did nothing on her. "I met a girl and we went on a date."

"And you need my help understanding what you did to make her run away."

"No." He growled. "I need your female expertise to figure out the hidden intricacies of the text she sent to ask me out on another date."

Azalea stared.

She ended up taking a seat at one of the bar stools. "Correct me if I'm getting this wrong, but you went on a date. You managed to, in some mysterious way, not scare the girl enough to need therapy for life and now she's asked you through text to a second date?" He nodded. "And you want me to explain the text for you?"

"Yes. I thought we'd established that already."

"I have to know the situation if I'm going to help you."

He opened up his phone and put it in front of her with the text he'd gotten from Marinette on display.

Azalea read it and her eyes widened.

"What does the 'thought a lot about it' part mean? Does she not want to go on a date again, but feels the need to be polite or is it her way of saying it was a tough decision? Or does it mean she's nervous about it?" He'd started pacing. "And she wrote that she likes me! How do I respond to that? I like her. I like her a lot. It's impossible not to. She's really amazing. Is it too early to tell her that and what if she means it in a different way? What if she meant like a friend? But she's asking to schedule in another date. Is that cue for me to give her options or should I let her decide right off what suits her?"

Azalea was staring at him again, but snapped out of it when he snapped his fingers in front of her face.

She shook her head. "Something tells me she's just as much of a mess about this as you are."

"I'm not a mess."

It was insulting for anyone to say otherwise.

"No, you just like a girl for the first time ever and you've got it bad."

He looked at her. "Is it that obvious?"

She nodded "If it helps I think you should marry that girl. You'll never find someone else that won't run for the hills."

He chuckled quietly.

It was something he would have been a lot more reserved about doing before meeting Marinette.

"I'd love to, but we're both a bit too young as of now. Doubt someone as wonderful as her would marry me though." Cue dying sounds from Azalea's bedroom. "Is your cat alright?"

She shrugged. "I haven't seen Albert since I got home. He might have fallen asleep in my wardrobe again."

"Don't think I've forgotten that you haven't answered any of my questions yet."

"Would never dream of it." The smirk somehow suited her. "In my expert opinion-"

He couldn't help himself. "Since when are you an expert?"

She punched him in the shoulder. "Since I'm the only one in the room that isn't socially awkward."

"Well, do go on then."

"As I was saying. The girl probably has it just as bad as you and have been thinking of you constantly and worrying just as much. She might have been asking similar questions to yourself. The 'I really like you' part is definitely romantic. Trust me. You should discuss a time that suits both of you. Give her a frame for when your free or something like that."

"So I have nothing to worry about?"

"Nope."

He breathed out in relief.

What would he do without Azalea?

But she had that glint in her eye that always spelled trouble.

"So..." He already didn't like where this was going. "Do you love her?"

Thankfully he wasn't drinking anything or he might as well have choked.

His first instinct was to give a straight no, but Azalea had said they were friends.

He didn't want to lie to her if he didn't have to.

"No." She looked so disappointed. "This girl. She's this angelic girl with so much good in her heart, but I'm pretty sure she's still able to take down someone bigger than her. The things she can come out with when she forgets herself are either brilliant or hilarious depending on what she says. When she smiles she lights up the room and I'd do anything to see it. She's smart, and creative and competitive. But, no. I don't love her." He let himself smile. "But I can see myself getting there a lot faster than it should be possible."

Azalea had just a touch of a smile on her lips.

"I expect a thank you at your wedding for making this happen a lot earlier than it would if I left you two to your bumbling." What? "Turn around."

He did.

Marinette was in the doorway to Azalea's room.

Chapter Text

"You heard everything didn't you?"

She nodded, but her mind was very much absent.

How could it be possible for a boy to make her feel like this in little more than a day?

Damian wasn't good at social interaction.

That much she'd gotten.

Did he know that everything he said was so clearly abnormal?

He said he could see himself loving her.

Loving. Her.

She was ordinary in every way, but he could list all those things about her.

Breathing shouldn't be so hard and was that a tear falling down her cheek?

Apparently he noticed too. "Did I do something wrong?"

He frowned.

He didn't even seem to realise that what he'd just unknowingly spilled to her was the kind of confession some girls' dreamed about.

Straight out of a fairytale.

But he was no prince charming.

It didn't fit.

He'd make a good Robin Hood or Zorro though.

Oh, what had her life become?

"No. Nothing wrong. Shocking, but not wrong."

And she barely noticed how he instantly seemed to calm down. "I haven't scared you away yet?"

The laugh escaped without her permission. "I'm not easy to scare or maybe, you're just not that scary."

He actually looked insulted.

She could see how some people might have been scared off by that.

That glare was brutal.

But the only thing she saw was the boy that had saved her first day in Gotham.

She couldn't bring herself to be scared of him.

Not after yesterday.

Not after seeing him have a similar freak out to hers just a few minutes ago.

Getting to see him nervous weirdly enough made her surer of her decision to give him a chance.

Damian had made it clear that he wasn't a guy that worried about other people.

If he cared so much about this then she felt certain that he wouldn't play with her feelings.

That was good.

She'd had enough heartbreak to last a lifetime.

She felt confident in her decision.

It was a chance, but sometimes you had to put your neck out.

"I have a tour booked with my class until three o'clock tomorrow." She hadn't noticed how she'd slowly been inching closer to him. "But after that we are free to do what we want."

He understood. "How does dinner sound?"

"We could meet up at my hotel."

"I can be there at 4."

She smiled. "Perfect."

His eyes were sparkling.

There couldn't possibly be that many shades of green.

A cough brought her back to reality.

Azalea.

The girl was standing of to the side watching them. "I have no idea what that just was, but apparently you guys have a date planned for tomorrow." They nodded. Hadn't they been pretty clear about that? "Great. Marinette is staying for dinner. You're more than welcome to stay too. We're making pizza."

Huh.

"Is this some kind of set up?" Damian seemed cautious.

She could see where he was coming from.

"After watching you two interact I'd happily set you up, but you don't really need that. You managed on your own. I would also hate to chaperone you two. It's frankly freaky watching this weird dynamic you've got going."

Made sense.

Kind of.

"Well, the pizzas aren't going to make themselves."

And so began one of the best evenings she'd had in a long time.

Just like a thief in the night she snuck through the darkness.

The hotel was silent and the corridors empty.

Everyone fast asleep in their beds.

Everyone except herself.

She stopped at the door.

His door.

"Tikki," she whispered.

Her kwami phased straight into the room.

A few seconds later the door stood unlocked and she could make her entrance.

One last deep breath and she braced herself.

Then she entered.

Light snores were the only sounds heard.

And she saw him.

His right hand dangling down the edge of the bed.

It shouldn't be this easy.

But it was.

He failed to notice how she slipped the ring off his finger.

Left she was standing there with a ring in her hand and two kwamis staring at the scene with such regret.

It felt final.

Chapter Text

"Welcome to Wayne Enterprises! I'm Dick and will be your guide for today."

Damian had gotten to WE with Grayson.

He had his own project to work on and had made himself scarce the moment he heard the usual introduction for tours coming from his brother's mouth.

He'd been on the other side of the lobby and had still been able to hear the tour group's incessant chatter.

Grayson really had his work cut out for him this time.

Thankfully it wasn't his problem.

There's many positive aspects to being the billionaire owner's son.

Today just happened to be one of those days where the negative part made his life just a bit harder.

He did not have his own work space.

He didn't work there and he rarely had any work relating to the company so it would have been largely unnecessary.

His father's office was big enough for him too.

Except today.

Business meeting.

That meant he had to find someplace to get his work done in the crowded building.

It couldn't be that difficult.

He settled down at a free desk on one of the office floors.

The sound of computer keys clattering and low talking could be heard, but all in all it was a calm working environment.

Just as he liked it.

The entire family had some hand in Wayne Enterprises in some way or another.

Some more and some less.

There was a clear, but unspoken rule.

Express an interest in the business and you'll get some kind of responsibility or assignment.

This project wasn't any of his usual ones.

A completely new program meant to sponsor up and coming talents somehow.

His proficiency in art had been the reason he got landed with this.

He hoped to have a proposal done by afternoon.

"In here they work with deals with other companies. They read and write loads of contracts. Can't slip any loopholes past them!"

He didn't look up from his computer.

Grayson continued explaining this department, but he wasn't the centre of attention.

The group was still conversing loudly in french without a care in the world about the tour they were supposedly on.

Emphasis on loudly.

Blocking them out did not work.

And they kept going on and on.

He wouldn't be able to get any more work done here.

The cafeteria was surprisingly calm despite the large number of people.

He got most of everything done and had found time to eat lunch.

He had an outline and the general idea.

It was written efficiently and only needed a look over to correct any grammatical errors that might have happened.

But he needed a possible start.

If this was ever going to go through he'd need a talented person that's interested in a sponsor to start off the program.

Someone that would be ready to start a career now.

He really wasn't the best person to try to find a talent.

Much less actually recruit them.

"And this is the cafeteria. WE offers all employees free lunch every day. There's usually three to five options depending on the day. We'll be taking a break here so that you can get some food in you, but we'll reconvene by the door in 45 minutes. Make sure to show them your badges when you get your food!"

Not. Again.

He was really starting to hate french tour groups.

Couldn't they talk about... jewel bearing elephants... when they weren't in the middle of a tour?

He shook his head.

For once in his life he didn't want to know.

He just packed up and left.

He was out of ideas.

The talent problem had been put on hold for something a bit more pressing.

His date.

What was he supposed to do?

He'd never planned a date before.

He literally had no experience whatsoever and still had to find a way to make this perfect with a relatively short deadline.

Research time.

Drake ran by at quite an astonishing speed.

He was probably late again.

Internet truly was a gift to man.

He'd been able to read up about typical dates.

Most of them included food so that was good.

It did however make it clear that every kind of date might not fit well with everyone.

Preferences.

He'd have to continue his search.

It was pure luck that it happened.

Loads and loads of luck.

Two female employees had been walking by his current working spot.

It was his fourteenth hiding spot.

That tour somehow always came by and interrupted his work.

If he didn't know better he'd think that they were following him.

But back to the two ladies.

They'd both been carrying a ridiculous amount of files as they headed of for the elevators.

He overheard one short part of their conversation.

"He even took me on a picnic by the Seine. Jake had gotten a guy, Luka Couffaine, to play some music for us. It was so romantic!"

Thankfully he'd already decided on everything for his date later on.

He had time for this.

Luka Couffaine.

French teen that lived in Paris.

A couple years older than himself.

Known locally for being somewhat of a musical prodigy.

Played at several small time functions both as a solo artist and in group.

Used to be a part of a band, but quit and the band fell threw soon after.

He'd given out a handful of pieces and they he didn't have to be a music expert to know that they were far beyond good.

One thing was for sure.

Luka Couffaine had talent.

This time he only had to hear one french word for him to move on.

By now he knew better than to hope for any work to get done in the presence of those imbeciles.

"Hello?"

"Hello." He consciously decided to take this in french. "Is this Luka Couffaine?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Good. I am Damian Wayne. I heard your songs and have a proposition I believe you would be interested in."

"What kind of proposition are we talking about?"

"One that would be equally beneficial for the both of us. I'll help you get your career started and instead of working under a record label you'll be under WE."

"You mean kind of like a sponsorship?"

"Indeed."

"I'm listening."

Chapter Text

"Welcome to Wayne Enterprises! I'm Dick and will be your guide for today."

Marinette actually made it to the bus this time.

This tour wasn't something she wanted to miss.

It wouldn't be easy concentrating though if Lila's never ending stream of chatter continued like this.

The tourguide wore a welcoming smile, but it had already become a bit strained.

She wished him luck getting through this.

The tour had barely started, but so far it had been amazing.

Too bad she was the only one listening.

She'd taken to walking right in the front to still be able to hear everything clearly.

Her notebook and pen in hand as she made sure to catch everything.

She wanted to own her own business someday and all this was invaluable.

Dick definitely knew his stuff.

He'd quickly realised who actually was interested and had taken to ignoring the rest of the class.

Especially when Miss Bustier didn't say a thing about their behaviour.

Well, she basically got a private tour so she didn't complain.

After they'd gotten the introduction to the company in the lobby they were taken up a few floors.

The legal department.

She made sure to listen extra carefully.

If she was ever going to manage having a business of her own she would definitely need to know these kind of things.

Contracts was a big part of it all.

Legalities was a big part of it.

It didn't help that it wasn't anywhere close to her strong suit.

Why couldn't she have a business head on top of the designer one?

It would have made her life easier.

They'd been in the room for less than two minutes when all the workers started getting annoyed about all the noise.

Her classmates' were asking questions to Lila about some cruise she'd apparently been on during last summer break.

They didn't notice all the stink eyes they were getting.

She even saw some guy take his work and leave on the other side of the room.

She couldn't blame him.

Íf it was possible for her to continue the tour without the rest she'd do it in a heartbeat.

At least she had the advantage of being able to tune them out partially.

But then she could also understand every word out of their mouths.

She could only hope they'd get out of the office sooner rather than later.

R&D department, sales department and the security personnel's breakroom.

They'd been showed to varying places in the entire building.

Her head was practically swimming in information and so was her notebook.

Not to mention all the great inspiration she'd seen all around.

All the possibilities!

She really just wanted to sit down with her sketchbook and design to her heart's content.

"And this is the cafeteria. WE offers all employees free lunch every day. There's usually three to five options depending on the day. We'll be taking a break here so that you can get some food in you, but we'll reconvene by the door in 45 minutes. Make sure to show them your badges when you get your food!"

Maybe it would be possible after all.

She was easily the last one in the queue and she'd let a few people get in between her and the rest of the class.

No point in giving Lila any openings.

It lead to her standing there with a tray filled with delicious looking food and no idea on where to sit.

She was contemplating her options when Dick appeared next to her. "What would you say about some company for lunch?"

She blinked. "What?"

"I couldn't help, but notice how you're not looking to sit with the rest of your class. Well, there's a free spot with me and my brothers if you're interested." And then he just walked away.

Left the choice to her if she wanted to follow him or not.

It wasn't that difficult really.

Better than awkwardly sitting alone.

She got introduced to Dick's brothers Jason and Tim.

They seemed nice enough and were easy to keep up a conversation with as she ate.

When they dropped the bomb that they're Bruce Wayne's sons she didn't even blink.

She knew her fair share of famous people and had already come to accept that somehow that was a part of her life.

Tim nodded towards the table her class were sitting at. "Is your class always like that?" The mentioned group were currently playing around while questioning Lila about the magical elephant ride she'd taken on her travels last summer.

The volume of the conversation was not made with inside voices.

"Yep. Worse at times." It was embarrassing, but what could you do?

Jason did not look impressed. "One would think they'd behave while at a company that rarely offers schools tours."

She shook her head a bit.

She could see where he was coming from.

"I can attest to the fact that they aren't interested in the least." Dick waved his hands as he spoke. "Marinette was the only one that listened to me at all."

Tim's eyebrows were high on his head. "What about the teacher?"

Dick actually threw up his hands in the air. "She did nothing at all."

"Miss Bustier had her earphones. She likes to listen to novels." She just kept sketching.

That did not mean she didn't notice the three incredulous looks sent her way.

"You're the only sane one." Jason might have said it, but the other two were nodding along.

She'd come to the same conclusion some time ago.

"Tell me about it."

There conversation jumped topics.

Some more serious than others.

It was fun.

She'd only been away from Paris for three days and that was enough for her to really miss being with friends.

Then they saw her sketches.

"That's incredible."

She nearly jumped out of her skin and tried to glare at the culprit.

Jason laughed.

"It's not done yet."

Dick looked at it too. "It still really good."

She was probably blushing a bit from all the praise.

And then Tim took a look.

His blinked a few times and leaned closer.

Cocked his head.

Then he finally looked up again.

Right at her.

"You're MDC."

She didn't expect that.

Jason and Dick didn't get it. "Who's MDC?"

"Jagged Stone-" And there a light went off in the boys' eyes. "-has at four different occasions given credit for his outfit to someone he calls MDC. The name has never popped up in any other situation."

"How did you know?" She looked like a living question mark.

It shouldn't be possible for him to have found out.

"I'm a huge fan. I'm familiar enough with your style to recognise it. Loved the jacket you made him for his last tour by the way."

"Huh, thanks."

She had a fan.

Unreal.

Then he shattered her entire existence again. "Sorry, if it feels like I'm using you, but I have to ask. Do you take commissions?"

"Sometimes."

People she knew paid her to make a piece her and there at times.

"Would you be open to making something for me?"

She kind of wanted to say yes, but...

"I'd love to," she said, "but I'm only in Gotham for a couple more days. The time fram isn't even the problem. I can make something in the evenings. But I don't have a sewing machine here."

Dick cut in. "We have a sewing machine at the manor. You could always borrow that."

"You could come by tomorrow if you have time," Tim added.

That... could work.

She wouldn't be with her class tomorrow.

Her parents had gotten her permission to take the day off and go for an interview for a scholarship.

When she was already in the city she might as well get it done.

Her interview was at 10 and would probably take about an hour.

"Okay. I should be free from 11 AM. I'd need to take measurements too and go over some designs with you."

Her future client nodded enthusiastically.

Jason grabbed a napkin and a pen from his pocket and scribbled something.

He handed her the napkin.

It was a phone number.

"We can send a car. Just text us where you want to be picked up. You can come over and stay for lunch."

Okay, wow.

That was about the time when Tim figured out he was late to a meeting with the PR department.

A quick goodbye and he was gone.

She turned to the two brothers that were still there.

"What just happened?"

Chapter Text

He pulled up outside her hotel.

Within a few minutes she came out.

It was clear that she'd put a lot of thought on how she dressed.

Black legging and quite the interesting blood red jacket.

She must have made that one.

The point was that she melted in perfectly with all Gothamites and still managed to look truly beautiful.

She even walked like a native.

Always on guard.

Another point in her favour.

But how?

He put his questions on the back burner as she came up to him.

It had been a small risk coming with his motorbike.

Not everyone felt comfortable riding one.

Marinette was looking at their vehicle as much as she was looking at him.

"I might marry you just for the bike." And that was the exact kind of attitude that made her so interesting.

Many girls might want to get close to him for his money, but he could hear the difference in her comments.

He could play the game anyway. "Does that mean you'd be open to marrying me?"

Her eyes might have rolled, but she was smiling like the sun as she winked. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I can't marry a man I just met."

He handed her a helmet and snorted. "Are you quoting Disney at me?"

"I wouldn't take you for someone who'd recognise that."

"Disney marathons are mandatory in my family I'm afraid."

"Huh," she shifted, "doesn't change the fact that Disney has some good points. Agreeing to marry someone you've just met is crazy."

"True. People do crazy things when they're in love or at least so I've heard."

She laughed. "That they do."

And she put on her helmet and got ready to hop on.

He followed her example.

They were both aware that they didn't love each other.

He hoped he wasn't the only one that hoped that might come to change.

Because Marinette was extraordinary and he knew he would never find another girl like her.

He'd picked a small family own restaurant.

It was a good choice.

Marinette loved it.

He'd gotten a feel for what she liked and homey was definitely on the top of the list.

They were soon seated at a table in the corner with great view of the whole place.

"So what have you been up to today? Run into any other lost girls?" she asked as she opened her menu.

"Not even close. No, I've been working today."

Marinette hummed. "I didn't know you had a job. Anything fun?"

He opened his menu for show since he already knew what he was going to have. "That depends on your definition of fun. I'm working on a project to sponsor up and coming talents."

"Doesn't sound boring. It would mean making someone's dreams come true or at least help them getting there." And there was that smile again.

"I... hadn't thought of it like that. You do have a rather good point."

"Glad to be of service." Her head did a tiny nod and her smile was teasing. "Do you know who you'll be supporting yet?"

Instead of answering he brought up his phone from his pocket.

When he found what he was looking for he handed it to her as he pressed play.

One of Luka Couffaine's videos played on a low volume to avoid disturbing the rest of the guests.

Marinette went through a couple of expressions.

Her blue eyes were wide as saucers. "Remember when I said the only date I'd ever been on was with my best friend?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, that's him."

Really?

"You dated Luka Couffaine and now he's your best friend." That needed to be clarified.

She shook her head. "It was one date that we didn't even make it half the way through and he's somewhere between best friend and pseudo brother."

"Can I expect a shovel talk from him?"

"Let me put it like this." He made sure to listen carefully. "I have two best friends and I see them both as siblings. My sister might be the violent one that's going to threaten murder, but Luka's the big brother of three. He'll be the one that makes sure they get away with it."

He could see how serious she was.

She fully believed every word she said.

It was a side of her he had seen hints of some times.

This confident side of hers.

It suited her perfectly.

"You'll have to introduce me. They sound like my kind of people."

"You three would take over the world," she chuckled.

"Three? You mean you wouldn't be joining us in our bid for world domination?"

"Me?" Hand on her heart. "I'm a perfect angel thank you very much."

He gave in to the urge to laugh.

It was too great even for him.

"Try that on someone that hasn't been hit by one of your flying shoes."

"That was an accident!" And then they were both laughing hysterically.

He must have gone mad, but he wasn't complaining.

It was the most fun he'd had in ages.

When they finally were done she wiped a tear. "Will I be getting any shovel talks when I meet your family?"

When.

Not if.

When.

He took that as a good sign.

"When you meet my family somewhere in the far future they'll spend a few minutes with you and then hand me the shovel talks."

"Far future. Are you ashamed of me?" The glint in her eye made it clear she was joking.

Probably.

"My family's a constant circus with too many clowns. Hopefully you won't have to deal with that madness for a very long time."

Their waitress chose that moment to come and ask for their orders.

That was fine.

Their date had just started.

Chapter Text

Tikki and Plagg watched from their spot in the rafters.

Marinette had covered for them when they made the trip from her backpack.

They both watched the couple below them.

Fascinated by this turn of events.

But Tikki was getting restless. "So?"

"So what?" Plagg asked without taking his eyes off the scene.

"Damian. What do you say about Damian?"

A moment of time to consider.

"He's very clearly out of his comfort zone and has practically proposed to a girl he literally met two days ago. You can't expect me to not like him after all the casual chaos he makes." The kwami of destruction looked at her. "And trust me. He is not kidding in the least about wanting to marry her."

Tikki was doing a happy dance and was close to squealing. "You really think so? Oh, they are so good for each other. You should see how much Marinette has started opening up again."

"I'm not surprised. Our Bug managed to find one of mine after all."

The red kwami suddenly stopped moving.

Her jaw and eyes open wide. "He's one of yours?"

He nodded resolutely. "Without a doubt."

"This hasn't happened in 2000 years!"

"Bug must have had some amazing luck this week. The chance of this happening is tiny."

"This explains so much." She flew back and forward as if pacing. "The instant trust, how quickly they're opening up, their ease with each other... Should we tell them?"

"Maybe someday, but not yet. It doesn't really matter anyway. It would only make her question if any of it is real."

"Of course it's real. This doesn't change how they feel about each other. It just makes them get their quicker."

"We know that, but try explaining it to a girl that's kept having to listen as her partner kept telling her they were destined to fall in love and all that." Plagg grinned. "Plus imagine all the chaos when they figure it out."

It might seem unusual for him to be the voice of reason, but he'd filled that roll many times over the years.

Creation had a way of flying away with people.

Creativity didn't always have a firm grip on reality.

Destruction needed a grounded mind.

"What's there to figure out?"

The grin grew even bigger. "Let's just say I recognise his style."

The two kwamis eventually returned to watching the date.

Their conversation fresh in their minds, but interested to see how this would unfold.

Creation and destruction always rocked the world when they came together.

"But I still want to know if he likes camembert."

The date went on into the early evening.

They'd talked for ages.

"Angel, I think we're courting."

"We probably are."

"Probably?"

"We've had two dates and a casual hang out with one of our friends. "

"Don't forget that we're discussing when we're having our next one."

"There's also the fact that we've already talked about marriage and it's something I'm somehow considering seriously however absurd that may be."

"If we keep this up we'll be engaged before you know it."

"Don't propose until we've known each other for at least a month. Explaining how I got engaged to someone I recently bumped into on the street isn't on my bucket list."

"We're sixteen. Would you actually say yes if I proposed in a month?"

"Maybe. Wouldn't be that big of a deal and we're soon seventeen anyway."

"I might have a limited amount of knowledge about how this is supposed to work, but I'm relatively sure your parents would object to that."

"Nah, they got engaged three weeks after they met. Four months later they were happily married at eighteen."

"I wouldn't have guessed you'd be willing to do anything like that."

"Let's make one thing clear. I know what I want from life and I know where I'm going. I might not know exactly where you fit in yet, but if I'm sure then I'm not going to wait around just because it's what people expect."

"I can agree with that mindset."

"Then we're on the same page, but I hope you know that I'm going to have to find a nickname for you too."

"What did I tell you?" Plagg gloated.

In Paris a baker looked up from his work and to his wife. "Do you feel like something important just happened?"

Sabine frowned a bit. "Yeah, but I can't put my finger on it."

"Me neither." Tom filled up the piping bag.

"Oh, well. We'll figure it out in time. How far along are you on that wedding cake?"

Bruce Wayne were preparing for the worst.

Tomorrow a young french designer would come to the manor.

The manor in which a certain Damian Wayne lived.

His son had scared their last visitor away within minutes of entering.

He was already considering how much money he'd have to hand over to avoid law suits by the girl and her parents.

That night Alfred stumbled upon more drawings of the girl with even more detail.

That same night two teenagers stumbled upon each other on the rooftops.

Chapter Text

Two of the city's young heroes went out when night fell.

Rooftop running was a good way to take a breather or just get away for a moment.

It's also one of the places they usually stumbled upon each other.

Like now for example.

"I didn't think you'd be out tonight," Viperion told her as they move their impromptu meeting to a better shielded roof.

They both knew sensitive information probably shouldn't be spoken about without any care for who could overhear.

"Mother is getting worse. We don't think she'll make it much further," Ryuko explained with a low voice.

Ah, so she needed to get out for a while.

It was no secret that her mother's heart had gotten very bad the last few years.

He and Marinette had been the first to know.

They'd been a big part in saving Kagami and Tomoe's relationship after all.

"Are you alright?"

"Better than expected. I've had time to grieve and say my goodbyes. That's more than most get." She sighed. "What about you? I thought you and your mother were supposed to video chat with Juleka."

The strings on his harp called out to him and he softly strummed the strings.

Juleka didn't live in Paris anymore.

She'd transferred to an art school in Metropolis three months ago when she'd decided she couldn't stay in her class.

It had been hard to let her go, but he could clearly see that this was what she wanted.

How could he possibly deny her that?

He shifted to sit more comfortable against the wall. "We did it after dinner. The time difference isn't always easy."

And so they continued chatting.

It was normal for them.

When Marinette started losing friends they'd been some of the few people that stayed.

They'd met through her and since then they'd been an inseparable trio.

Juleka might be his only biological sister, but he would always consider himself the proud big brother of three.

Family didn't need to be blood.

Kagami's phone gave of a really low noise.

He wouldn't have heard it hadn't his senses become just a bit enhanced from the continuous use of his miraculous.

She took a look and a small smile started spreading. "Remember Marinette's date that was tonight? Well, look at this."

He leaned over to see the screen properly.

It was a picture taken inside a restaurant.

Marinette was in the fore front with her arm sticking out to take the photo.

On the other side of the table sat her date.

A black haired boy with sharp green eyes.

The table between them was empty except for two milkshakes.

Marinette was beaming and he was struck by how happy she looked.

She still smiled around them, but never like that.

The boy had clearly been canoodled into taking the picture.

He wasn't smiling, but his eyes told a very different story.

It looked like a successful date.

One thing stood out to him though. "Isn't that Damian Wayne?"

It had to be.

That was the same person that he'd spent the afternoon videochatting with.

"Yes, it definitely is." Kagami nodded and her eyes lacked the usual sharpness in favour of some fairly impressive glimmering.

Oh, she was amused.

No one had noticed that Marinette didn't show up for dinner at the hotel.

NO! NO! NO!

Where could it be?

It couldn't be gone.

It had to be here somewhere.

How was he supposed to be Chat Noir if he didn't have his ring?

How would his lady know it was him and be able to date him if he couldn't transform?

No, he had to find it!

Adrien Agreste fruitlessly searched his and Nino's hotel room for the eighteenth time.

He'd been so distracted that he hadn't noticed one very important piece of jewellery wasn't with him until after dinner.

"Tomorrow we will be having a guest for lunch," his father broke the news.

"Is it your current girlfriend again?" He didn't look up from his sketchbook.

Father's eyebrows twitched. "Current?"

This time he did look up and make eye contact. "I have never taken you as someone to settle, father."

A moment passed.

"No, it's not my girlfriend," he denied. "Tim is commissioning a young designer that is coming over to borrow the sewing machine and have a consultation with him. Miss Dupain-Cheng will be staying for lunch too."

Soon the conversation ended and he was left to his own devices.

Damian set a countdown on 29 days.

Chapter Text

She'd been so nervous for her interview.

There was a lot hanging on this and she really couldn't afford to screw up.

Her clothes had been carefully picked and were some of her own designs.

Pep talks had been given from practically everyone that stood her close.

Damian had even sent a "You've got this" text to her earlier in the morning.

It was sweet.

Especially since she was well aware he'd never do it for anyone else.

It made her feel special.

However all preparations in the world might have gotten her there, but that wouldn't be enough if she wanted to get in.

Scholarships were rare in such an exclusive school.

She'd been a wreck when she stood outside the office.

But she needed this.

This was a once in a lifetime chance.

All expenses paid education far away from Paris and it's troubles.

She couldn't let some nerves spoil this for her.

A deep breath in and assuring nods from both Tikki and Plagg.

Shoulders untensed and game face on.

A folder filled with her portfolio, recommendations and other important documents.

When she entered she'd looked every part of confident businesswoman.

When she exited she'd done so with a large smile on her face.

One of the fanciest cars she'd ever seen rolled up right where they'd said her ride would be.

They never did anything by half did they?

The driver was an older man that introduced himself as Alfred Pennyworth.

He was very friendly and insisted she called him Alfred.

Though she couldn't help but think that he knew something she didn't.

He looked just a bit too amused.

She stepped through the doorway and within seconds all three of the guys were there.

Had they been sitting nearby in waiting or had they looked at the security footage?

It was a manor.

There was no way they didn't have security cameras.

It was only common sense really.

That and she had already spotted more than a dussin so far.

They were very well hidden, but she knew what to look for.

That made her sound like a criminal.

It was just a habit she couldn't get ridof.

There had been too many times where she'd had to break in somewhere to preserve her dignity and that only made it sound worse.

Greetings were exchanged and off they were to get her the sewing machine.

"Its so good to see you," Jason said all dramatic and all. "I've been stuck with these people on my own for too long."

Tim snorted. "You say people like you're not one of us."

And wasn't that true.

One thing she'd caught onto quickly was that they might all be very different individuals, but they shared the same kind of crazy.

Dick slung an arm around Jason. "Little Wing you don't have to act like you don't love us. We already know you do."

"Keep dreaming," was what he answered, but no one in the room was fooled for a second.

They might have a funny way of showing it, but they were clearly close.

Would she share this dynamic with someone if she'd had a sibling?

She'd probably never know, but she certainly hoped so.

Her company was ignored in favor of inspecting the sewing machine.

And wow.

What a sewing machine!

It was clearly older than the ones she was used to, but it definitely didn't disappoint.

There wasn't any screens or thousands of fancy stuff.

She'd never seen one of these in real life.

Industrial sewing machines weren't exactly common nowadays.

A hand was suddenly on her shoulder and she had to restrain herself from flipping the person over.

"Are you alright?" Dick sounded worried. "You kinda spaced out on us."

"Yeah, yeah! Totally alright." She shook of the tenseness from being startled. "It's just... Do you know what a gem you have here?"

He chuckled. "No, but I don't sew so that might be why. What's so special about it?"

She did not feel the least ashamed in admitting that she rambled for more than ten minutes.

They somehow ended up in the living room of some kind.

She wasted no time in pulling out here measuring band from her purse.

She pulled out her pocket sketchbook and a pencil too.

"Just curious, but do you always carry that in there or is it only for today?"

Surprisingly enough Jason wasn't the first one to ask her that.

It was a common question.

"Never leave home without it."

She motioned for Tim to come over.

From then on she rotated between taking measurements, scribbling them on a page in her book or answering questions about her process of creation.

All of them were a lot more interested in the behind the scenes work than she'd initially thought.

Tim actually looked like he would be squealing in delight if he wasn't currently being measured.

She still couldn't believe she had a fan.

Unreal.

Tim practically had heart eyes when he saw the ideas she'd sketched up for him.

"Marry me."

He actually went down on one knee and all.

Jason and Dick laughed their heads of.

"I'm pretty sure my boyfriend wouldn't approve of that."

Tim didn't even bat an eye.

"Then I'll have to move on to plan B." He turned towards his brothers. "Do you know where Bruce keeps the blank adoption papers?"

They nodded.

She honestly couldn't tell if they were joking.

With time Alfred came and told them lunch would be ready in ten minutes so they made their way to the dining room.

There were already three people there.

Bruce Wayne she assumed and two girls a couple of years older than herself.

The dark haired one smiled and waved, but didn't say anything.

The blonde one instantly just appeared in front of them and shook her hand with vigor.

"You must be Marinette. The boys have told us so much about you." The girl realised something. "Oh, I nearly forgot. I'm Stephanie, but you can call me Steph and that's Cass over there."

It was kind of like meeting a blonde american version of herself.

"It's nice to meet you. Sorry, but are you family friends or...?"

It was awkward asking, but it was killing her not knowing how this all pieced together.

Stephanie wasn't actually the one to answer.

Instead Cass did.

"Sisters." Simple and straightforward.

Stephanie picked up from there. "At least now we are. B has a habit of adopting kids. I'm the new one. Paperwork only went through two days ago."

And that was that apparently.

After that she got to shake hands with Mr Wayne.

"Just call me Bruce," he'd told her.

She was in no way an expert regarding any famous people except a few that didn't have with fashion to do, but didn't Bruce Wayne have a reputation that was quite different from this?

Maybe that was something to look into...

Soon everyone was sitting around the large table.

Dick explained that they were waiting for one last person. "Our youngest brother had a video call or something."

There were enough people around the table for multiple conversations to start up at a few places while they waited.

These people were a weird bunch, but it didn't take much effort for her to fit into the mix.

She was weird too after all.

A discussion about the most unusual uses for coat hangers just didn't happen in normal company.

That didn't mean she was complaining.

Far from it.

Some of the things they came up with...

But everyone stopped what they were doing when someone new entered the room.

She turned around to see Damian looking straight at her from the doorway.

Seriously. How did this keep happening?

Chapter Text

Blue eyes as deep as the ocean connected to his.

Marinette was in his home with his family.

The scene he walked into would look normal to anyone else or at least at first glance.

A normal family lunch.

No one would bat an eye at Marinette's presence.

It made a twisted kind of sense that she'd fit so seamlessly into the absolute madhouse that was his family.

He was more than aware that she was far from the picture of innocence she made up.

She was an incredible actor even though she didn't hide any malicious intent behind her facade.

It was something he was still figuring out.

But as he stood on the outside he could admit, if only to himself, that he liked what he'd walked in on.

It felt right somehow.

The people he cared most for, because he did care, got along.

They hadn't scared her away.

Since he met Marinette it was getting a lot harder to keep from smiling.

He'd slip up sooner or later and his reputation would never recover.

Maybe it would be worth it.

However he had everyone's eyes on him and it was obvious they were waiting for his move.

Something inside him cracked when he saw how worriedly they looked between him and Marinette.

They thought he was going to attack her.

Verbally or physically didn't matter at the moment.

Was he really that bad with people?

Time was frozen and he knew he had to do something soon.

He walked up to Marinette while maintaining eye contact and she stood up.

Last names might have been a topic they'd never breached, but they weren't stupid nor oblivious.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

She nodded at his inquiry.

She was the designer Tim had commisioned.

"Damian Wayne?"

He gave just the slightest of nods.

They shook hands, but it wasn't a greeting.

It was a sign of acceptance.

No hard feelings.

It didn't change a thing.

She sat back down as he took one of the empty seats.

They could talk later just them.

The others didn't seem to know how to react, but they weren't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Alf- Pennyworth came in with the food and broke the tension.

Conversations started back up.

Nothing had been forgotten.

Only put off until later.

Plates were distributed by Pennyworth.

His own were put in front of him.

"That's quite the young lady you've found, Master Damian."

It was said quietly while taking advantage of the motion of serving the food.

No one else heard.

But as Alfred walked away one thing was clear.

He knew way more than the others.

Damian wasn't surprised.

"Tim, told us you've worked with Jagged Stone." Grayson began in a bid to draw attention to their guest. "How did that happen?"

Oh, boy.

He'd heard this one.

It had taken awhile, but that was only because Marinette was worried about bragging.

It was worth it though.

He wanted to know about her achievements.

They were a big part of her life after all.

It was good that she got to tell some more people about it.

It might help her learn that it was fine to be proud of what one accomplishes without it necessarily being bragging.

He settled down in his chair as she began to tell the story of how she made a rock star a pair of Eiffel Tower glasses.

"Can I borrow your bathroom?"

"There's one right down the corridor next to the entrance hall. You can't miss it."

"Wait," Jaso- Todd stopped her. "The reason your not with your horrible class right now is because you have the day off so you could go to an interview for a school's exchange program?"

She nodded.

The interview wasn't anything new for him.

She'd told him about it yesterday.

"You want to go from the city of love to the city of crime?"

"There's nothing that really makes me want to stay..." she said as she sipped her water.

"Parents?"

"Thinks it would be a great for me to get away for awhile."

"Friends?"

"They're probably not staying in Paris much longer either."

Flabbergasted faces all around.

Drake remembered something. "Didn't you say you have a boyfriend?"

He really wondered under what circumstances she'd told them that.

But it was just another piece of proof that she was as serious about this as him.

She indirectly called him her boyfriend.

Marinette shook her head. "He's not from Paris."

Stephan- Brown lit up at the confirmation. "You have a boyfriend? Oh, you're making me curious. I just have to know who's good enough to date you. Is he as irritatingly humble you? Is he shy? Wait, how serious are you two?"

That's when he understood that they had no idea at all.

It wasn't like they had tried to hide it, but okay they might not have made it especially clear that they were seeing each other.

Marinette seemed happy to indulge her though. "No, definitely not and very, but it's kind of a new development..."

"Well, between us girls, what's he like then?" Brown asked.

"Blunt," Cassandra said looking at Marinette, "otherwise you'd worry."

Everyone was clueless except Cassandra then.

"I never thought of it like that, but yeah."

And the girls looked like they could continue that line of discussion if Todd hadn't cut in.

"We're forgetting the important thing here. The one where you want to move to a city that's known for it's crime rate.

"It's also a city where I as a short and innocent looking girl can protect myself without anyone questioning why I can fight."

The girls turned to father.

"We're keeping this one."

Marinette only looked mildly worried about that.

But the time came for Marinette to leave and they all went outside to wave her off.

She really made an impression.

She'd swapped numbers with both Stepha- Brown, and Jas- Todd.

Argh.

That was it.

He gave up.

She'd swapped numbers with both Stephanie and Jason.

Dick had just handed her a paper with his number on it and Cassandra had dropped hers in Marinette's pocket.

Tim had apparently already given her his number.

They all wanted to keep in contact.

Alfred pulled the car up to drive her back to her hotel.

She had just opened the door when she turned back to all of them and she looked right at him.

"Remember our first date?"

"Like I'd ever forget."

He didn't know where she was going with this, but their audience were watching with some of the most shocked expressions he'd ever seen on them.

"You're not the only one that plays dirty. Check the plant outside the bathroom." And with that she hopped into the car.

He didn't hesitate in going for the plant.

Luckily it was close by.

And he checked it only to find some notes and coins hidden in it.

It was the total from the cafe.

He couldn't help it.

Damian laughed.

His family looked like the apocalypse was coming.

Chapter Text

She was still smiling when the car pulled up in front of her hotel.

Another well done consultation, a whole new group of friends and victory over Damian.

It had been a spectacular day and that was without mentioning the sewing machine in her lap and the interview.

Alfred started talking when they'd fully stopped.

"Thank you for visiting and may I say it's been quite the interesting afternoon."

"I'm the one that should be thanking you here. The food was amazing and you were all so friendly."

Alfred shook his head and the skin beside his eyes wrinkled.

He looked serene.

"You are a very special girl, Miss Dupain-Cheng. It's makes me very happy that Master Damian has found someone like you."

Ah, that explained a lot.

It was also incredibly touching.

She could already feel a little lump building in the bottom of her throat.

"Someone like me?" She smiled a bit. "You mean a social disaster with a side of fashion?"

She considered it a huge success that she made him laugh so good naturedly.

"I actually meant someone that's patient enough to look further than the surface. Someone that won't let him win all the time and can teach him to let go once in a while." By then she was very close to crying, but he wasn't done yet. "You are a bright young lady. He's very lucky to have you."

"Thanks, but I'm the lucky one. He brings out the best in me."

"I'm glad to hear." He paused. "By the way it was quite the situation you left him in."

"Yeah, it- Wait. How do you know about that?"

Alfred's eyes practically sparkled with mirth. "You will come to find that there isn't much that happens in the manor that I don't know about."

Yeah, she could already tell she wasn't figuring that one out anytime soon.

But it made her think of something else.

"Earlier when you picked me up you already knew about me and Damian." Well, she thought he did at least. "How?"

"We'll call it a hunch for now."

Damian: Well played, Angel.

Me: I just thought you should know that angels don't always play fair;)

Damian: That's good. Neither do I.

She put down her phone with the ghost of a smile still on her lips.

She went through the reception and headed for the stairs.

That meant she passed the front desk where Adrien was badgering an employee. "It's a chunky silver ring. Someone has to have seen it!"

The ring felt heavier than it should on the chain around her neck.

But she didn't regret anything.

Firm steps carried here away from there.

The pencil drew the last few strokes. "And... done. Tikki, what do you think about this?"

The sketchpad showed a more detailed sketch of the jacket she'd decided on with Tim.

Tikki flew over to take a closer look.

"That's really nice Marinette, but are you sure you'll be able to get it done before you leave?"

"Yeah, it shouldn't be a problem if I get the materials tonight."

Her beloved kwami tilted her head. "What fabric store is open at night?"

"None," she answered, "but I happen to know that the owner of a store in the shopping district has been awake late the last few nights to work on a big project in the back."

She was actually counting on him doing the same tonight for this to work.

Tikki shook her little head and sighed. "You sent Plagg to spy on someone again."

"You make it sound like I'm invading someone's privacy. He only went to find a place that would be open for random midnight visits."

She honestly felt a bit bad for Tikki.

The kwami had to deal with situations like these way more than she should need to.

"You and Plagg should never be left alone."

"We're not that bad."

The silence spoke volumes.

Me: Escaped the wolves yet?

Damian: Said the girl that threw me to them.

Me: They can't be that bad.

She sat alone at dinner.

A relief really.

The rest of her class had been seated on the other end of the dining room.

It was impossible to hear a word they said.

Heaven on earth really.

And the food was delicious.

Chicken curry wasn't anything they ate at home, but she might have to find a recipe for something similar.

Bustier had left ages ago and now the rest of the group passed her by on their way to the elevators.

They barely gave her a passing glance.

It didn't bother her.

She'd gotten over them a long time ago.

"WHO TAUGHT YOU PEOPLE HOW TO COOK? SQUIRRELS? SERVE SOMETHING THAT'S EDIBLE TOMORROW OR SO HELP ME!"

Apparently Lila hadn't left with the others as evident when she stormed by.

The poor waitress had her jaw on the floor and her eyebrows in her hairline.

It wasn't the first time she'd heard the italian yelling at the staff and it certainly wasn't the last.

They deserved a raise.

"They already offered you a contract?!" Suffice to say she wasn't expecting that. "They only contacted you yesterday."

Luka chuckled. "Yep. They want to give me some time to read it and see if there's anything I feel needs changing, but it won't be long until everything's signed."

"They really can't wait to make you a pop star, huh?"

"Yes and no," he answered. "They're eager to get the project started though I'm not going to be a pop star. No tours in my future."

Kagami was evidently confused too. "Then what are you going to do?"

"Let's put it like this. You two know me better than most if not all others. When you really think about it do I seem like a person that would enjoy the life of a performer?"

They both thought about it for a moment, but reached the same conclusion.

"It feels a bit too stressed and people pleasing now that I think about it... It doesn't feel like something you'd enjoy."

"I agree. That does not sound like a life you'd want to live." Kagami took a breath. "Music means something else to you."

"Damian talked to me for ten minutes and said the same thing," he confessed. "He also said that the way my music speaks would be better suited for the soundtrack to movies. That I could bring them to life. I hadn't even considered that an option before, but now it's something I really want to do."

"If that's what you want to do, then you should. W.E is huge. They'll open so many doors for you."

"Your support means a lot, but enough about that," their brother in all but blood told them. "Nette, how's it going with Damian?"

"Well, finding out he's my client's brother and that I met his family without strictly knowing they were his family was a bit of a surprise though I did get him back for the cafe thing so there's that..."

Kagami laughed. "You found out that you're dating Damian Wayne when you were in his house?"

"Okay, one. That place is too big to just be called a house. It's an understatement. Two. How did you know who he was? I get how Luka found out."

"I'm a Tsurugi. I know the name and face of a lot of relevant people."

"Huh... While we're on the topic, how's your mum?"

The Japanese girl sighed. "The doctor gave her a few months if she's lucky, but we don't think she'll make it that far."

"Is there anything we can do?" Luka asked her.

"No, but thank you for offering. It's just a bit much right now. We're trying to find a solution for after she... after she's gone. I don't really want custody to end up with some distant relatives in Japan."

"Okay, but if you ever need anything you know we're here for you."

Damian: The interrogation's over. You'd be surprised how much paperwork I've had to obliterate.

Me: Paperwork?

Damian: Adoption papers.

Me: I thought they were kidding about that!

Damian: I can assure you they weren't. They decided to keep them as a back up plan if our relationship should fail. They had multiple copies I had to find and destroy.

Me: What if I wanted to be a Wayne?

Damian: On my dead body will that be through adoption. Only through marriage.

Me: Okay, then I'll just have to marry Tim. He proposed earlier anyway.

Damian: HE DID WHAT?

Me: Yeah, he went down on one knee and everything.

Damian: Excuse me. I have to commit a murder.

Me: Don't expect my help with hiding the body.

"It went great. They're going to give me a call within a few days to tell me if I got in."

Both her parents were happy to hear that.

They'd been more supportive than she'd expected about this.

"They'd be crazy to not accept you," papan full belly laughed.

Her maman was excited as she was. "Gotham might be your home soon. You just have to remember what I taught you and you'll be fine."

Basic martial arts might not be enough against all threats, but she had more tricks up her sleeve for when that should fail.

But it was time to tell her parents about something else.

Something they needed to know.

"Mama. Papa," she got their attention. "I've met someone."

"You're already making friends! That's incredible."

"No, mama." She made sure to accentuate it clearly this time. "I've met someone."

It clicked.

Her mama was speechless and a bit teary eyed.

The same could not be said about her papa.

"You have? This is... We knew this day would come someday. Oh, this is so exciting! What flavour do you want your wedding cake to be?"

Papa had handed her mama the tissue box while he was talking and she was now wiping away a couple of tears.

"We only met a few days ago." She paused. "But for the record dark chocolate is one of both our favourites."

"You ready, Tikki?" The kwami nodded. "And Plagg you won't get into any trouble while we're gone?"

Plagg looked at her. "No promises."

"Good enough." She made sure to concentrate on a different and darker version of her suit. "Tikki, spots on."

As she was leaving she caught sight of herself in the reflection of a window.

Huh.

That looked really good.

She might actually keep it like this.

But she could think about that later.

She had fabric to get.

Chapter Text

The money weighed heavily in his hand and the sound of the car driving away could still be heard.

His laugh echoed in the hallway.

Apparently Marinette wasn't going to let it go.

Neither was he.

Game. On.

Me: Well played, Angel.

Marinette: I just thought you should know that angels don't always play fair;)

Me: That's good. Neither do I.

His family didn't waste time with pulling him down to the batcave and having him tested for laughing gas.

Not only the current version, but every version that had ever been produced.

They all came back negative and they had to accept that he had been laughing volountarily.

That's what lead them to this situation.

The situation being him chained to a table in bat designed handcuffs.

"Are we sure nothing or no one is controlling him?" Stephanie asked the others.

Jason snorted. "We aren't even sure this is the brat."

"He's got a point," Tim admitted. "We can't rule out the possibility of a shapeshifter."

This would take a while.

"Okay," Tim began, "now that we know you're this universe's Damian and you're not a clone, android or shapeshifter and that you are not under any kind of mindcontrol or brainwashing we can safely start asking questions."

Like they hadn't already asked 87 questions to verify his identity.

But sure.

Ask away.

It's not like he had anything better to do with his time.

"What did she mean when she said your first date?"

That he had been prepared for even though it was a surprise that father asked it.

Didn't mean he had to like it anyway.

"She meant our primary date." He sighed. "It's not that difficult. You're adults. Shouldn't you know what a first date is?"

It was a testament of time that they didn't react to the jab.

Instead Dick seemed to light up at the information. "First? As in more than one?"

Tim shook his head. "Let's take this from the beginning."

"You ran into her on the street?"

"I believe both of us were to blame for the collision."

"A thrift store." Stephanie frowned. "What did you do there?"

"Had a look around." He shrugged. "Not much more than that."

He determinedly didn't look Cassandra in the eye.

"And that was how we decided that it would count as a date."

His oldest brother had his head in his hands. "How could I forget to cover romantic relationships with you?"

"Even without doing that your voice haunted me with advice."

"That's something I guess."

"That's why she left money in our plant?" Jason guaffed. "She'd definitely a keeper."

"Then we made vegetarian pizzas while socialising."

Tim's eyebrows were crinkled. "Anyone else stuck on the 'friend from school' part?"

Marinette: Escaped the wolves yet?

Me: Said the girl that threw me to them.

Marinette: They can't be that bad.

The chaos around him told a different story.

"He's her best friend slash brother?"

He practically snarled.

"You mean to tell me that class of blundering buffoons without an ounce of decorum is her classmates?"

"Wait, wait, wait! Lil'd, didn't you know each other's last names?"

The glare was an answer in itself.

The story in it's entirety, except some choice details to preserve his dwindling reputation, was told.

It had taken a very long time with an unreasonable number of questions and doubts.

He honestly didn't even know why he was still trying to save what was left of his reputation since it would undoubtably be in vain.

It was already in tatters considering some of the arguments he'd had to use to convince them to not investigate his girlfriend like a common criminal.

He gave it until the end of the week before it would be in total ruin.

Maybe less depending on how many more random meetings he'd have with Marinette.

He might as well kiss it goodbye.

It was nice while it lasted.

"I guess we at least won't have to adopt her yet."

He didn't like the sound of that.

The thought alone of Marinette being his sister made him want to throw up.

"Yet?" It was rather impressive that he managed to not croak it out.

"I've known you for years." Tim looked him in the eye. "Sorry, if I'm not willing to put all my eggs in one basket. Especially when that basket is the odds of you bringing a girl into the family."

The bang from when his head hit the table could probably be heard all the way up to the manor.

"That and it would be a waste to throw away the papers when we've already started on them."

Eventually he gathered whatever sanity he had left.

He stood up from the chair, dumped the picked cuffs on the table and left.

No one stopped him.

Some papers were lodged beneath the dinner table.

He didn't have to remember who sat there to know who they belonged to.

The purple pen was enough.

Father would from now on be considered a traitor.

He found three copies of filled adoption papers around his office.

There were also a frightening amount of blank ones.

He grabbed all of them to be sure.

Dick had begun filling them in and had one copy in one of the cereal boxes and another hidden in chandelier.

Through the years he'd learned a lot about the Robin before him.

One of the first things he figured out was that Tim was by all definitions a strategist.

That's why the twenty copies of all completed paperwork hidden all around didn't surprise him in the slightest.

There was no way one of the world's greatest detectives hadn't seen the resistance coming.

Thankfully Cassandra's writing skills weren't at official paperwork level yet.

He would never find anything she hid.

The most shocking discovery however was Jason's contribution to the adoption conspiracy.

He hadn't made as many as Tim, but all the copies were different.

Jason had written up papers for several options.

They apparently all depended on how Marinette herself would like to go forward.

Only one was completely correct.

Then there was one where she claimed to be Bruce's illegitimate half aunt's newly orphaned granddaughter.

Another had her as Alfred's goddaughter in which he'd met her father during his MI6 days.

There were even one where she was Jason's long lost little sister.

The second eldest certainly didn't lack creativity.

The huge pile of papers were cut up into tiny pieces and then burned to ashes.

He scattered them with the wind.

Another job well done.

Me: The interrogation's over. You'd be surprised how much paperwork I've had to obliterate.

Marinette: Paperwork?

Me: Adoption papers.

Marinette: I thought they were kidding about that!

Me: I can assure you they weren't. They decided to keep them as a back up plan if our relationship should fail. They had multiple copies I had to find and destroy.

Marinette: What if I wanted to be a Wayne?

Me: On my dead body will that be through adoption. Only through marriage.

Marinette: Okay, then I'll just have to marry Tim. He proposed earlier anyway.

Me: HE DID WHAT?

Marinette: Yeah, he went down on one knee and everything.

Me: Excuse me. I have to commit a murder.

Marinette: Don't expect my help with hiding the body.

"DROP THE KNIFE, DAMIAN!"

Chapter Text

The wind in her hair and the thrill in her veins.

Her heartbeat's comforting presence.

Who knew it was possible to miss vaulting over rooftops this much?

It was in time's like these she knew she'd never be able to give up the hero gig.

She was already addicted.

The darker colouring of her suit made it easier to blend into Gotham's darker atmosphere.

Bright red wouldn't be the best idea in this environment.

No the change was a good thing.

That it didn't look like a onesie anymore was a much appreciated bonus.

She had to take a double take and go back a rooftop.

Huh.

That was one big piece of vandalism alright.

Non descript office building.

Wouldn't even catch her attention if it wasn't for one thing.

The entire front side of the fasade had been spray painted.

Whoever had done it had made it look like the building was being destroyed by glowy, green goo.

Frighteningly realistic too.

Looked real catastrophic.

And bold letters under the company logo proclaimed "We dump chemical waste in the ocean".

If anything it was eye catching.

The two vigilantes over there seemed to agree.

Nightwing was shaking his head, but Robin looked furious.

Something told her it wasn't because someone had dared vandalize a company's building.

That same something told her that company might be getting a visit from a certain bird soon.

Good graffiti though.

The coast was clear and so she detransformed on the roof.

Tikki wasted no time in flying into her inner jacket pocket and starting to eat the prepared cookie. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Don't worry. My plan will work." She hoped.

She knocked on the window.

The man within stilled and cautiously turned around.

She didn't blame him.

Getting a visitor in the middle of the night at a second story window probably was cause for some alarm.

Even if the window in question was right by the fire escape.

He held the scissors in his hand tightly. "Is this a robbery?

The sound carried through the tiny opening in the window.

Good thing he'd had it open a bit or she would never have heard him.

"Nope. I'm a designer in need of an after hours shopping trip. I have a commission with a dead line and I really need fabrics and a few other things fast."

His eyebrows reached new heights. "You really think I'm going to believe that?"

"I think you do. You're a designer too. There's no way you've never been in a similar situation."

He stared.

She stared.

He opened the window.

"Thank you so much. I can't tell you how much this means to me," she told him as she clambered through.

The man sighed. "Just don't make me regret this, kid."

He'd lead her down to the store and turned on the lights.

The task at hand was one she'd gone through several times in her head.

The kind of materials she needed to look for had been carefully thought upon.

She roamed around to find what she needed.

The owner stayed by the door, but watched her every move.

Didn't really bother her.

She found the perfect fabric for the outside of the jacket and moments after that a great material for the lining.

Those were easy.

She also found a some zippers, threads and buttons that she needed.

There was only one thing left and she couldn't decide.

After a few minutes she gave in to her indecision.

She grabbed the bolts she was considering and dragged them back to the second designer in the room that was watching.

The sketchbook in her purse came out.

The design in question was pulled out.

"Okay, this is what I'm doing. Black with grey on the inside. The pockets and the detailing are going to be red." She showed the bolts. "This one is nearly too light in colour, but it's a good fabric. I don't love it even though it would work. This one on the other hand is a bit darker, but I think it's a bit too thin. You can practically see through it. What do you think?"

He blinked, but took a closer look at both the design and the fabric.

"You like the darker one better, right?" She nodded. He grabbed said fabric and brought it over to the black one she'd chosen. "Then what about this?"

He'd only put the red over the black, but in that moment he could have invented the baguette and she'd be less impressed.

It was so simple that she never would have thought about it.

The black could kind of be seen through the red and it created this effect.

It would look incredible on the jacket.

"It's a good design. Simple and classy with a touch of personality. I'm a bit curious about how you're planning to do the pockets."

She was more than happy to tell him.

"That won't work."

"Why not?" She'd done pockets like that before.

"Your client lives in Gotham?" A nod. "Then it would be too easy to pickpocket if they only have a button."

Huh. "What if I do them like I was planning to, but add a hidden zipper under the flap?"

He smiled. "Now you're thinking like a Gothamite."

"You have any other designs in that sketchbook of yours?"

"That's very intricate."

They were looking at picture of a dress she'd made with some embroidery. "I embroidered it by hand."

He whistled.

"This was actually a mistake. I was trying to study for a history test while making it. I wasn't that good at multitasking back then. But I decided to make it a thing and well..."

"You've made a wedding dress before?" She shook her head. "Shame. Something tells me you'd be good at that. I've only done a couple. Don't really have the eye for dresses like that."

"Do you have any photos of the ones you have done?"

"I'm Marinette by the way."

"Lee."

"My oldest daughter just got her first job and I wanted to make her something. It'd not really done yet. I'm still trying to figure out a way to give it that wow factor."

"Have you considered..."

Her eye caught on the clock.

Three thirty.

She had to be up in a few hours.

Ops.

"Nice meeting you and don't be afraid to pop by again. Maybe even during day hours next time."

"Haha. Real funny. Thanks for letting me midnight shop."

He laughed as she left through the window.

Chapter Text

"Nice feint."

"Nice punch."

They both held ice packs to varying places.

”You like her?" Stephanie asked from her seat opposite him.

He added a depth to her smile. An air of mystery. "Yes."

She leaned forward onto the table. "You like like her?"

"Yes." Casual strokes for her hair.

He didn't have to see her to notice Stephanie's intent look. "You're not just leading her on, are you?"

"No." Shadows were put in the right places.

"I'm actually not trying annoy you right now." She sighed. "I just have to be sure you aren't playing with her. It's the girl code. Marinette deserves better than that."

For the first time he pulled his eyes away from his sketch. "I'm aware. Otherwise we wouldn't still be having this conversation."

"That's fair."

Marinette had once told him about Paris' supervillain scene.

It had worried him that it had previously been unknown, but it wasn't surprising.

They had a lot less eyes outside of America.

It didn't help that it all looked like one big prank.

Angel hadn't said a lot, but some suspicions had grown from what she had shared.

It only took one video clip to prove them correct.

He wished they weren't.

Those were teenagers fighting a magical terrorist.

Untrained teenagers.

He took it to Jason.

The obvious choice might have been Tim, but they'd had an all out brawl earlier.

They'd both gotten in some good hits.

Better hold off on that for awhile.

Jason could be an asset too though.

He knew the importance of being prepared for a fight if you were supposed to get out in one piece and he'd hate seeing teenagers being pushed into a fight that wasn't theirs to fight.

Other heroes might consider Red Hood to be rash and more brawn than brains, but people always forgot one major thing.

All of them were detectives, all of them were great strategists and all of them could gather information like a pro.

They might all have different areas of expertise, but that didn't mean they were useless in the others.

That's why he took it to Jason.

"Babs, I'm telling you! Lil'd has found a girlfriend. You should have seen her. She'd this adorable little ball of sunshine." Dick paced around with his cellphone to his ear. Then he stopped. "I'm not joking!"

Damian turned at the threshold.

"Have we had the talk yet?" His father looked vaguely uncomfortable with asking something like that out of the blue.

Who could blame him?

His sixteen year old son had for the first time showed some romantic interest.

"That depends on which talk you are currently asking about. If it's the 'stop smuggling unsuitable pets into the house', 'don't be rude to every person you meet' or the 'the bushes aren't meant for sword practice' talk than we've covered it. Numerous times." His expression didn't give an inch.

Batman might be a detective, but he'd played this game for years.

"No. I'm talking about the talk." His father paused and took a really deep breath. "When two people love each other very much they... It's like with... birds and bees? It's this very special hug that, uh... consent is not negotiable and use protection. Otherwise... the stork might visit..."

It was like watching a train wreck.

You just couldn't look away.

And his father was usually so composed.

Hadn't he done this with the others?

"I do know what intercourse is."

His father was anything but composed at the moment. "You do?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Three words. League of Assassins."

Had his father gone a bit pale or was that his imagination?

"You left when you were ten."

"And by then I'd already been told the wonderous secrets of human biology."

Yes, he was definitely a bit on the pale side. "When?"

He held up four fingers.

Bruce Wayne left the library a lot more of a mess than when he entered.

That was payback for the adoption papers.

Cassandra popped out of nowhere and hugged him. "Proud."

Then it was like she'd never been there.

He hacked the cameras.

What had he dismissed about the situation at W.E.?

The class had been awful of course, but something was fishy about it all.

He didn't like what he found.

Jason flopped down on the armchair his father had occupied earlier on. "You were right."

And he wasn't surprised.

The odds of him being wrong had been astronomical, but...

"How bad is it?"

"Crappy mayor and police force that pushed the entire thing onto the superheroes shoulder. Apparently it's not their problem, but that doesn't mean they can't complain." Jason rolled his eyes. "The media is all over them and put themselves at risk constantly. Most of the heroes has also been retired and lost their magical jewellery."

That was terrible conditions.

Not good for facing a magical terrorist.

It matched his own observations of news outlets and security cameras.

"And the other heroes?" Personally he hadn't been able to dig deeper than that. Marinette's welfare in school took precedence. "What did you find about the ones that's still out there?"

"The trio is sixteen, seventeen and nineteen respectively. They've all been doing this for years. Ladybug since the beginning and the others a few months less." Jason clenched his fist and that frown was prominent. "They're good. Better than most superpowered heroes, but they were thrown into the deep end and had to learn on the job. Some of the news clips are horrifying."

Yeah, there was nothing in the world that could stop them from intervening.

Not when hell freezes over.

But that information made something startling clear. "You know who they are. You looked up their identities."

It wasn't a question and they both knew it.

"Yeah, I did." His second oldest brother was sprawled over the armchair with his legs over the armrest and his eyes closed rather painfully. "And I'm not sharing and I don't want you to look it up yourself."

"But-"

Jason put his hand up in the universal sign for stop. "I know. But two of them are practically your age and none of them asked for this. Least we can do is let them have their privacy."

"It goes against everything father's ever taught us. We can't let unknown crimefighters remain unknown to us. We'd only be giving ourselves a blind spot. One that can be exploited."

"Damian." And he already knew he wasn't going to like it. "I'm not going to ask what you would feel, but what if it was Marinette? She's a normal girl your age. What if she was Ladybug or Ryuko? How would she feel about it?"

He was once again proven correct.

He didn't like it.

Because Marinette worried about things.

If she had a secret identity she'd panic at slightest bit of suspicion and that wasn't even close to having multiple vigilantes knowing who you were.

She would have a a lot of things and happy was not one of them.

It was easy to see what Jason was trying to say.

He still didn't like it.

"Fine." He'd give in. "But if there's ever any kind of reason I should know then you will tell me or I'll look it up myself."

His brother nodded.

It was a deal then.

"But what about catboy?"

Jason gave a full blown smirk. "Something tells me he recently lost that ring."

"Tragic."

"Very tragic. You saw how he was harassing Ladybug whenever he bothered to turn up?"

"That I did." He tilted his head. "Is his name one of the ones you aren't sharing?"

"Nope. Adrien Agreste."

The moron from Marinette's class.

The one that thought they should let Marinette be bullied.

She'd actually told him some about her school situation, but not that it was this bad.

He'd done his research.

This couldn't go unpunished.

"I have patrol with Nightwing tonight..."

"I can threaten him for both of us. Focus on something long lasting instead."

This was the closest to brothers they'd probably ever been.

They did it again.

The building was covered.

The only spot unpainted was the logo.

And somewhere there would be a file with everything that was needed to bust the bad guys.

It wasn't the first time.

But chemical waste?

How stupid were these idiots?

Nature was to be protected, not destroyed.

Nightwing was shaking his head. "That kid's got talent."

"That's what you're focusing on? We should be bringing the company down instead of just standing around and observing the view."

His eye was already twitching behind his mask.

"Okay, but I'm just saying. Sometimes you just have to appreciate the art. He's getting good." Then he grappled away.

He was quick to follow because he actually knew how to prioritize.

...

But it was a good piece of street art.

Chapter Text

She barely slept at all.

It was a miracle she didn't miss the bus.

That and a lot of coffee.

It was more for her own sake than anyone else's.

It's not like they would hesitate for a second or even notice if she went missing.

They'd already proved that.

"Hey, move it wannabee!"

She took big sip of her to go mug.

There wasn't enough caffeine in the world to deal with this.

"Welcome to Gotham City Police Department or GCPD."

Lila and her posse was once again chatting in french without any regard to the person they were supposed to be listening to.

"Of course! I'm the one that designed W.E's last charity programme. There's so many poor kids out there and I just really want to make a difference even if it's only something small."

"That's so nice of you, Lila. You have such a big heart."

"Your help must mean so much. Your making more than a small difference."

"I agree. My calculations of the programme's numbers are sure of it."

"Girl! If you work for W.E do you know the Waynes?"

"No, no. I've met them a few times. I even brought them coffee once, but I don't really know them that well. They're busy people."

"That's still so cool!"

Everyone in the general vicinity was getting agitated.

At least she wasn't stupid enough to lie about knowing the Waynes.

Something told her their lawyers wouldn't like that.

Real pity if that happened.

A while later the woman that was telling them about the station finally had enough.

"It's obvious you have no idea how things work here in Gotham, so let me tell you something you better remember," she began. "In this very police station there's been bombs, lunatics, mob wars, shootings, hostage situations, criminals with flamethrowers... If you keep pissing everyone off like this then no one will think twice about leaving you to whatever situation might happen or even throwing you under the bus. Capische?"

They mostly stayed quiet after that.

It was the smoothest tour they'd ever done.

They were finished by lunch and were free to eat wherever they wanted, but in two hours the bus would leave for the museum.

She was going to meet up with Damian in a few minutes.

As she headed for the exit she barely stopped herself from walking into a woman in a wheelchair.

The woman's huge mountain high pile of files went flying though.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to mess up all your work." She didn't think twice about going down on the floor to pick them up.

"It wasn't your fault," the woman said. "I should know better than to take that many at once."

"Can I help you take these somewhere?"

The redhead might not be mad, but she still felt bad.

She might have knocked over something important.

It also looked very hard to maneuver with a stack covering most of her view.

"My workroom is just down the corridor. Could you help me get them there?"

She nodded resolutely and rectified her grip. "No problem."

The workroom was apparently a lab with a lot of different things neatly tidied away.

"You work here?"

"Yeah. Forensics. All the cool science things." She wheeled in to the room and parked herself further away. "I'm Barbara by the way, but I don't think I've seen you around before."

"I'm Marinette. My class is here on a field trip so it's no wonder you haven't seen me."

"Huh, could have fooled me you were a new recruit. You move like a cop."

People sometimes thought she was a few years older than she was.

It happened.

But the cop part was new.

"I do?"

"It's in the way you walk. You walk like you're going through a war zone."

"And that's how cops move?"

Were all police men cynics?

She refused to think about what that said about her.

"Probably just in Gotham."

Ah, that made more sense.

"You actually thought I could be a cop?"

Barbara shrugged. "At least until you told me your name. Dick told me about you yesterday. Tim's favourite designer and Damian's girlfriend."

Wow, new travelled fast.

Wait a moment. "You know them?"

"Yep." Barbara stood up and walked over to her files. She opened one of them. "I went to school with Dick and I've been over to their place more than a couple of times."

Sure.

Did that family know everyone she met in the city.

Should she ask them if Lee was their secret uncle or something?

It took her longer than she'd like to admit to notice, but then she couldn't get it out of her head.

She waved her hand towards the wheelchair. "I didn't think you could walk."

Okay, that was very blunt.

It sounded a lot better in her head.

But fortunately the redhead didn't take it the wrong way. "I couldn't for a long time. It's only recently I've started walking again, but I get tired easily. Doctors say it will take some years until I'm back to where I once was."

So it was most likely an accident or an attack.

Made sense that it would take time.

They waved each other goodbye and she left.

The fact that Barbara had moved around with far less trouble than she should have never left her mind.

"Sorry, I got held up." She slipped her hand into Damian's.

They started walking to find somewhere to eat.

"You got held up in a police station. Should I be worried?"

It was easy to tell he wasn't actually worried about that.

He was just teasing.

"Nah, I found a friend."

"You didn't steal anyone's phone then?"

"I regret telling you about that." She didn't.

But it was definitely teasing.

Chapter Text

They chatted for two blocks until they came to a street that was well known for it's many food places.

"What would you like to have for lunch?" he asked her.

She stopped walking and tilted her head. "Don't you want to choose?"

It continuously caught him off guard how she always thought of others before herself.

Even with small things like restaurant choices.

"I picked both the cafe and the diner." He motioned ahead. "I would also like to see what you would choose when you have this many options."

This way he'd find out what she enjoyed.

That was all she needed to accept it and start looking around.

It was obvious she found something as she practically glowed.

"I have an idea!" And then she pulled him into a grocery store.

For some time they quietly strolled through the aisles.

She would sometimes stop to take a closer look at a shelf while he tried to figure out what she had in mind.

The silence was far from uncomfortable.

It continued up until the moment where Marinette's eyes froze on something behind him.

A loud group of teenagers, her classmates, walked by the front of the store.

He could even see the catboy in the middle of everyone.

It took massive measures of self control to not laugh out loud at how shaky he looked.

Guess Jason's midnight visit carried some fruit after all.

There was so many emotions playing on that kid's face it was uncanny.

Angel was another story entirely.

Her eyes might have caught on them, but there wasn't any emotions he expected on her face.

It was just blank.

Then she went back to trying to find a nice packet of strawberries.

"I looked into it." An admission he couldn't see himself giving anyone else.

"Huh?"

Yes, in hindsight he could have been clearer.

Well, well.

Time for attempt number two.

"You were in that irritating tour group at WE two days ago. I went over the footage from your visit." He saw how realization dawned on her. "There were too many red signs for me to stop there. I looked into your class and school."

It sank in. "You have questions."

She didn't ask how much he'd found or how he did.

Just accepted it for what it was.

"Only one actually."

"Let's hear it."

"Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?" He put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from turning away from him. "I knew your school situation wasn't the best, but what you told me didn't make it justice. The nicest thing I can say is that they're imbeciles."

It really was.

Don't get him started on the worse ones.

She looked him straight in the eye. "You're right. They're imbeciles. But if I told you every little detail about why that is then they'd win."

"Why would that happen?"

Not that he didn't like that fire in her eyes, but he just didn't understand.

It didn't make sense to him.

"They might be a group of bullies, liars and backstabbers, but they have not broken me. At this point they're nothing more than annoying flies and that's the only part they get. I refuse to let them be the antagonists of my life."

She didn't even raise her voice.

It was said in the same volume normally used to discuss the weather.

But her tone was pure venom.

Absurdly enough it made him more than content to know she wasn't all sunshine and roses.

He'd had his speculations and had seen hints of it, but this was something else.

Intriguing.

"I can approve of that mindset." They started walking around again. "It does also explain why your looking for schooling in other places."

She snorted. "It wasn't the original plan. I was supposed to be placed in another class this year, but my teacher hijacked my transfer. Didn't find out until it was too late."

That also explained why she was trying to find a scholarship in September because she was definitely a planner at heart.

But it was probably time for a topic change.

Something less frustrating.

"Any chance you'll tell me why we're buying strawberries and crisps for lunch?"

"Don't forget the chocolate."

He didn't get it until they made it to the tills and she grabbed a basket and a blanket from the special deals rack.

They popped in to a cafe across the street.

Two take away salads along with two water bottles were added to the basket.

The bell on top of the door pinged as they exited.

"What do we do now?"

"Now we have a picnic."

He'd figured as much.

Never had he actually been to a picnic, but one thing he was relatively sure of.

"Don't you usually have those at a park or something like that?" He wanted to know what she had planned.

She smiled, but mischief tinted her eyes. "Think you can keep up?"

He followed her as she darted into the closest alleyway.

He was right behind her as she went up the fire escape to the top.

Next to her on the roof he stood as she contemplated the buildings around her.

"There," she said and started running towards the edge.

Unafraid.

She leaped over and around obstacles many feet above the ground.

In the future he would probably point out this very moment as the moment he fell head over heels for her.

It had been a long time coming and he knew it, but that moment with only them so far above the rest of the world and her laugh echoing across the rooftops was the moment he knew there would never be anyone else.

Marinette was as carefree as he'd ever seen her bouncing across Gotham's rooftops to an unknown destination.

Taunting death and laughing in the face of danger.

And Damian?

Damian followed.

Chapter Text

Still lunchtime...

"Someone get me Mrs Taylor!"

Natalia and Travis walked like they belonged.

The streets of Gotham had always been their playground and they knew it.

So no one noticed a thing when they turned down an alley.

Even if the was the alley right next to the building that had been vandalized not that long ago.

In seconds a spray can was in Travis' hand and he got started.

Natalia kept guard.

"This has to be Wayne's best work." His hand confidently guided the paint where he wanted it. "Shame he didn't have time to sign it."

"Eh, we might have been a bit ambitious, but the message went through." She kept scanning the area. "Nightwing and Robin brought in the evidence to bring the entire company down for good and I even heard Robin broke more than a few bones."

That made him stop in his tracks and turn around.

"How the hell can you know that?" he asked her.

She glared and he got the hint.

He went back to work.

Then she answered.

"Perks of being the daughter of a mobster."

"Yes, Dick. I admit it. You were right. That girl's adorable."

"Exactly! Just like I told you."

"Come on. It sounded unbelievable. Damian isn't the kind of boy that likes adorable."

"But when have I ever lied to you?"

"Remember those few months before I became Batgirl?"

"You're never going to drop that, are you?"

Tim was working through lunch.

Nothing new there.

What was new was the mountain of paperwork that somehow kept growing.

And everything needed to be signed.

This wasn't even his job.

Most of the papers weren't even for him.

He'd had to forge Bruce's signature on more than half of them.

He had even needed to sign his brothers' names a few times.

A woman from legal came running in. "Sorry, Mr Drake. I was asked to bring these to you. We need someone to get them to the young Mr Wayne."

She left him with some more papers and then left in a hurry.

At least it wasn't anything else that needed to be signed.

"Done," he declared and stepped away from the wall.

For the first time since they entered the alley she stepped down from guarding duty while he threw away his can.

The company might already have been brought down, but now they had finally signed it.

She was pulled out of her musings when Travis grabbed her fedora off her head.

"Hey! Give it back."

"Nope." Travis ignored her and put it on. "I think it's only fair since you stole something of mine too."

She snorted. "What could I possibly have stolen?"

No need to steal when they practically share everything anyway.

"I can break, I can be clogged, I can be attacked, I can be given, I can be kept, I can be crushed, yet I can be whole at the same time." He smiled. "What am I?"

"Your heart? Seriously?"

She took back her hat and started moving.

His head shook and he let his words stay quiet. "Someday you'll understand."

Gunshots had echoed in the batcave for hours and they weren't going to stop for some time.

Thirteen.

Marinette was only thirteen when she got magical earrings thrown on her and had to step up to save the city from a madman's monsters.

He'd seen how many close calls there had been.

Especially in the beginning and when she didn't have anyone to really watch her back.

Jason didn't like that at all.

It had admittedly made him feel better when he threatened that Agreste kid.

He'd taken a lot of pleasure in scaring him senseless.

But it was still a terrible situation.

"WAYNE QUILL!"

A fifteen year old blond fell out of the tree. "Whoops. That's me."

The girl that had sat underneath him only laughed.

This wasn't an unusual occurrence.

The very red teacher yelling about a classroom's furniture stuck to the ceiling wasn't unusual either.

In the end they couldn't prove that it was him.

It definitely was him though.

Cassandra was trying to teach Stephanie a bit ballet.

It wasn't working.

She didn't get it and Cassandra could not explain.

Movement meant different things to them.

It was her language.

Just as words were Stephanie's.

Sometimes the language barrier felt big even if she could talk now.

To say that Alfred Pennyworth was unimpressed would be an understatement.

Honestly.

How difficult could it be to actually eat something for lunch?

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I want you to look over a portfolio." Principal Smith handed it all over as the teacher took a seat.

Papers shuffled around as every sketch and photo were evaluated.

"Huh, whose is this?"

"An applicant for a scholarship gave it to me during her interview yesterday."

The teacher scrunched up her eyebrows. "Isn't it a bit late to apply for a scholarship?"

"Her situation is... difficult." The older woman sighed. "I made an exception on the request of Ms Rolling. The girl is a delight. She's got recommendations from a few clients, her grades are more than acceptable and her science teacher put in a good word about the girl's work ethic."

Mrs Daniella Taylor put the portfolio down on the desk.

"Accept her."

"You think so?"

The design teacher nodded. "This girl is going places."

Azalea entered her math class.

Everyone was sitting on the ground while the furniture sat firmly on the ceiling.

Alright, then.

She found an empty spot on the floor and sat down.

Fridays just kept getting weirder.

On the side of a building looking like it had a very unfortunate encounter with acid was a black tag.

The work of illegal art had been signed.

2GEN

Doodles of an umbrella, a question mark, a mallet and a vine underlined it.

Chapter Text

"Why here?" Damian questioned as he helped her get the blanket out of the basket.

Marinette grinned. "No security footage."

There wasn't any good answer to that.

For a few minutes they sat in a comfortable silence and began eating their respective lunches.

Her eyebrows were scrunched up as she observed him. "Okay, I have to ask. I thought you were a vegetarian."

The fork stopped in mid air with his food still on it.

Including a piece of chicken.

"Technically you haven't asked a question yet," he told her as he wiped his face with a napkin.

Her mouth curved into a smile as she lightly punched his shoulder. "You know what I mean."

"I do support vegetarian ideals and I often choose to go for vegetarian alternatives. It just happens that it isn't currently possible for me to go full out." He shrugged. "I usually stick to chicken or fish when I eat meat."

"Huh. That's good to know."

He didn't tell her that vegetarianism wasn't any easy route to take when persuing the path of a vigilante.

And she might be curious about those circumstances, but she didn't ask.

"Most girls wouldn't like hearing that their boyfriend had to research the topic of dates."

He screwed up his face. "But it's true."

The corners of her mouth quirked up. "People don't always like the truth."

This had been part of her plan.

In the back of her head she'd noticed how he always seemed to relax just a bit when no cameras were around.

"I'm don't know much about the topic so then there was no other logical step than to find information. For an example multiple websites stated that many females appreciate romantic gestures. I still don't understand what qualifies..."

He was cut off by her snickering.

The smile she sent him was blinding. "Don't worry about that. You're doing perfectly as it is and I'll handle anything else."

He passed her another piece of the chocolate bar.

"Your turn," he told her.

She munched on the chocolate as she thought it over.

Then she snapped her fingers when she thought of something. "I once went a whole day in school without realising I'd forgotten to put on my shoes that morning."

"Are you serious?"

She nodded. "As a heartattack. But next topic. Erm... Something unbelievable you've managed to pull off."

He also used some time to think it over properly.

"I once aquired an army of chickens and managed to hide them from father for 2 weeks."

She leaned in."What happened when he found out?"

The smirk he delivered was a piece of art. "How do you think we always have fresh eggs these days?"

"Yeah, we're going to Gotham Museum after lunch. I'm just planning to work on Tim's jacket in the evening."

He blinked a few times. "You slipped on a candy wrapper and went flying down two sets of stairs while still coming out unharmed?"

"Yep."

The p popped and she took some more crisps from the bag.

She enjoyed how his eyes squinted as he tried to connect the new information.

"You leaped across rooftops not one hour ago."

"I was very clumsy up until Mama had enough with all the scares and signed me up for a crash course in gymnastics."

She glared at him.

He glared at her.

They both refused to break eye contact.

War had been declared and neither would step down until they reached victory.

Even as their arms started to shake.

They would not back down.

Their competitiveness wouldn't allow it.

It didn't end until their arms gave out and they crumbled into a heap on the ground.

The worst thing was that they couldn't agree whose handstand lasted the longest.

She reached for another strawberry. "You make it sound like Dick and Barbara are dating."

"Have." Damian shook his head as he too took another one of the delicious berries. "They broke up."

Her eyebrows knitted together. "And they still managed to stay friends?"

"Depends on the week. Their relationship is a rollercoaster I'm not going to try to comprehend." He rolled his eyes. "I think they might be on a break right now, but who knows?"

"No, but I'm serious." She changed her position for more comfort. "What's your favourite dessert?"

His nose twitched. "I'm not sure. I don't particularly like sweets. They taste too fabricated."

Her gasp could probably be heard all across the city. "You're going to have to try some authentic Dupain-Cheng pastries!"

"That sounds terrible."

"You'd be completely correct." He sighed loudly. "Galas aren't particularly fun. Most of the attendants are stuffy rich people without a care in the world. They demand your attention and you get pulled up to dance innumerable times."

That made her perk up.

"Does that mean you know how to dance?"

"Unfortunately."

She clapped her hands together with enthusiasm. "I've always wanted to learn. Would you be able to teach me?"

And he somehow agreed.

She wasted no time.

In mere moments she was standing and beckoning him up.

"Now?" he asked her caught of guard. "We don't even have any music."

She handed him her phone. "You know what kind we need."

That was how he ended up showing her the steps on a rooftop in the middle of Gotham.

His hand rested on her back as he held her close and they slowly moved to the music.

"I feel like you tricked me into doing something romantic."

"Don't pretend you're not enjoying it."

He didn't argue with that.

Chapter Text

He walked with her to the bus.

They didn't separate until they were less than ten feet away.

Her classmates were too distracted to notice.

"Thanks for today. I had fun."

A small nod. "So did I."

He didn't give her one of his rare smiles, but she knew that didn't mean anything.

It was scary how it had become second nature to read him like that.

Not taking anything at face value.

She hadn't known him that long and she could already tell he had the power to break her heart completely.

She might not have meant to do it, but she had given him that power.

He could so easily wake up one day and decide that she wasn't what he wanted.

That she wasn't enough.

That was her old insecurites creeping through even though she had mostly let them go a long time ago.

But Damian wouldn't do that.

She'd been so far gone in her own little bubble that she nearly missed the leg she was about to trip over.

Nearly being the keyword.

Lila smirked, but didn't say anything.

She couldn't afford to get distracted like that again.

Gotham was too dangerous for that.

For just one moment she saw Damian glaring daggers in the bus' reflection.

"This is Gotham Museum. Do make sure to keep your hands to yourself or you might just trip one of our alarms."

Suffice to say the alarm got tripped a couple of times.

It actually took the class four false alarms in two hours until they were thrown out.

For a city of crime there sure was a lot of patience here.

Personally she'd loved it.

The pure entertainment in watching Lila explain to security that she'd just ended up waving a bit too animatedly while explaining her expertise on different pieces and events was invaluable.

The guards' faces of disbelief were even better.

They'd even been allowed to wander around freely which had come back to bite her after the fourth tripped alarm.

She stood at the entrance as she watched the bus drive away.

This was the point where younger her would get into panic and try to get back to her class.

Hours would be spent calling teachers, classmates and more while trying to find a safe way back to the hotel or somewhere she could meet up with the others.

She turned around and went back into the museum.

Younger her didn't exist anymore.

"I'll be right back with your coffee," the barista told her.

She had time.

It wasn't like anyone was waiting for her and apparently she didn't have anywhere else to be.

The cafe at the museum was a simple pit stop to get some more caffeine into her bloodstream.

It was nothing more than your usual plastic chair coffee shop, but she really couldn't be bothered.

She'd slept way too few hours to care.

At least there hadn't been a queue.

Only three of the tables were occupied and they'd already had their orders when she arrived.

They were all spread out, but she could get a pretty easy read of of them.

Those kids with the strict looking parents definitely weren't here of their own free will and that girl with the laptop was scrambling to get a project done.

That guy with the beanie might have his back to her though his posture said it all.

Probably waiting for a date.

Nervous enough to come early.

She didn't have a good vantage point, but she did notice the edges of some thick rimmed glasses.

Paired with that jacket, that was just a bit bulky, he looked kind of like when she pulled out the disguises.

Indistinguishable.

Except was that...

"And here you have." The barista interrupted her train of thought.

She thanked her and grabbed her beverage.

Then she decided to take a chance.

With quiet, natural steps she headed for the guy in the beanie.

He was doing a very good job of hiding it if he had noticed her.

She settled down in the seat opposite him. "Seen anything interesting?"

"Depend what you classifly as interesting," Damian answered.

"Are you spying on me?" She cocked her head. "You do know I can take care of myself."

That last one wasn't a question.

It was a statement.

Sometimes reactions were better than answers.

He scoffed. "I'm well aware. A certain flying shoe comes to mind. No, I've simply been spying on some pests I were recently made aware of."

She did not tell him he'd given a good answer.

Normally she'd say she was letting him sweat a bit, but she knew better than to expect Damian to feel any shame over this.

He wouldn't see anything wrong with this one.

"Pests, you say?"

"Yeah, parasites like that shouldn't be left unchecked. They could cause quite some damage."

She shook her head with mirth. "I wouldn't worry about that for now. I won't have to be in the vicintiy of them anymore today anyway."

And he honed in on the holes with that. "What did they do?"

"They hopped on a bus and left without me. Nothing new."

That glare of his was really cute.

She'd be embarrassed for thinking that if he wasn't her boyfriend.

She would like to know what he was murmuring under his breath though because that was not a language she understood.

Well, well.

This day wasn't so bad and she knew what how to make it even better.

"You have any plans this evening?"

Chapter Text

"I still don't see the point in buying McDonalds and bringing it back with us," he informed her as he stepped in to the room.

He was the one carrying the paper bag with their dinner.

"Poor, sheltered soul." She closed the door behind her. "Eating barely warm anymore fastfood in a hotel room is something everyone should experience."

Both of them sat crosslegged on her bed with their food in between.

The drinks didn't look escpecially steady as they were, but Marinette didn't seem to worry about it so neither would he.

"I'm leaving on Sunday."

"I know."

He was aware even if it was a topic they'd mostly avoided through out the week.

Weird.

It had only been five days, but it felt like months.

How had he let her so close?

Actually, forget that.

Why didn't he mind it?

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't understand the question."

Probably the first time he willingly admitted that.

Marinette sighed. "I don't want a long distance relationship and I seriously doubt you do."

"Agreed." His nose wrinkled. "That would leave a lot to be desired."

It would be a lot of effort for barely any progress.

She snacked on her fries.

Her thinking face was all scrunched up and adorable.

Apparently he nowadays liked adorable.

...At least if he wasn't the one being described.

Her head tilted. "Why have you never dated anyone before?"

"You mean except my sparkling personality?" She snorted. "I haven't been interested. I've never believed in love before you and I never met anyone that fit the bill for what a relationship should be."

He had her interest.

It was written clearly in all the signals she was sending out.

"Let's ignore the fact that I'm the one that made you believe in love for now. That's anxiety for another day." She stole a few of his fries since hers were finished. "What do you think a relationship should be then?"

Big question with so many answers.

Answers he hadn't given to anyone before.

Maybe it was time to change that.

"My childhood was far from normal," he started off because she was the one that actually deserved to hear this. "My mother and grandfather were far from ideal. It's never been a question about getting married someday. Falling in love wouldn't even play a role in it. It would be out of duty. It would be a partnership in which both people compliment each other to which they'll be stronger and to always have a strong person beside you that works with you without becoming a weakness."

"That sounds very sweet, but also a bit horrifying." She tilted her head. "Mostly sweet definition of it, but that's one screwed up view on life."

"Yeah, my views on many things have changed with time, but I've still always wanted some part of that. The partnership part I mean." He took a breath. "I want to get married to someone I can view like an equal. Dating around is rather meaningless when I can't see it going in that direction."

Her eyebrows were all bunched up.

She was overthinking again.

"You're dating me."

He nodded. "I am."

Her lip would start bleeding soon if she kept biting it like that. "Why?"

Oh, that's what it was.

For being so smart she sure could be oblivious at times.

Time to be do his signature bluntness.

"I fully intend to marry you someday." And there she choked. "At this point the only thing that could change that is if you tell me you don't want that."

"I know we've talked about this before, but that's the only thing that could change your mind?"

"Badly worded, but yes."

"What if we fight?"

"Inevitable, but we're to stubborn to let that be it."

"What if we end up hating each other?"

"Do you honestly believe that could happen?"

"What if I ever lie to you?"

"Everyone lies. You wouldn't do it without a reason."

"What if your family don't approve?"

"Now you're pulling at straws."

"What if I'm a murderer?"

"I'd still marry you."

That made her stop.

"Seriously?" He nodded. "What if I don't think about commitment in relationships?"

"Well, what is a relationship to you?"

The following conversation was mainly made up of Marinette explaining her point of marriage.

That included an embarrassed explanation over childlike dreams that reality had shaped into something more realistic.

He didn't notice the mental notes he made of everything until far too late.

They ignored the lack of solid answers for what would happen when she went back.

When the very important conversations were over they relaxed.

She made great headway on Tim's jacket while he carefully observed her work.

This was a kind of artwork he'd never seen first hand like this.

So many things she did left him clueless.

Why was she cutting a bit away from the edge of her pattern pieces?

Why did she sew that first?

Why did she fold it like that?

He knew absolutely nothing about this world of hers.

Nothing at all.

"What are you doing?"

He only contemplated for a second.

"See for yourself." He turned the sketchbook so she could have a look.

Her eyes lit up. "Is that me? Wow. That's amazing. You really know your stuff." She turned her face towards him again. "But why did you draw me bent over the sewing machine? You'd think you'd be able to find something a bit more exciting to draw then me with my tongue out and all."

Damian shook his head and looked back at his sketch. "You're passionate about your work. That's something that should be captured forever."

He didn't know what he said that made her smile like that.

That didn't truly matter when push came to shove.

He knew he'd get the pleasure of seeing it many more times and that was enough.

Chapter Text

It was peaceful.

That was of course when her alarm started blaring.

She jumped out of her skin and her neck hated her for it.

Why did she have to fall asleep bent over the sewing machine?

The temporary panic wasn't helped by the fact that she hadn't been the only one startled awake.

On the floor beside her bed Damian had shot up with eyes that were too alert for this early in the morning.

She fumbled with her phone for a while before she managed to turn off the noise.

"What time is it?" Damian asked from his place on the floor.

She yawned. "Seven thirty."

He stretched a bit.

His muscles must hate him for sleeping down there.

Actually, why was he sleeping on the floor of her hotel room?

The last thing she remembered was working on the jacket as he sketched.

Right.

Artists' sense of time.

It was weird.

She could remember talking with him in short periods here and there.

That usually didn't happen while she was in her zone.

Nice to know she didn't bring Damian here to then ignore him the entire evening... and most of the night.

She tried to think of when she'd last slept this well.

Except for the neck thing...

Nothing came to mind.

Seven thirty and she wasn't only up, but felt refreshed and hadn't had a single nightmare.

Unbelieveable.

They decided that Damian would go for a breakfast run while she got herself ready for the day.

For once she didn't have a time to be at the bus.

Today was their last whole day in Gotham.

There hadn't been anything scheduled so that everyone could do what they liked.

That was if you stuck in groups, but since they'd forgotten her time and time again she didn't really care anymore.

It's not like she'd be any safer with that lot.

Tikki munched on her cookie. "You were both up so late and then you kind of nodded off."

Her eyes furrowed while she worked on getting through all the tangles in her hair. "How late are we talking about?"

"Three-ish maybe."

Not the worst she'd done, but she had only been going on minimal sleep even before that.

At least she got most of the jacket done.

Familiar and near silent foot steps reached her ears moments before they were right outside her door.

She whispered for the kwamis to hide.

Tikki immediately zipped out of sight, but Plagg remained.

"Do we really have to?"

Her own kwami probably matched her look. "I would prefer to not freak my boyfriend out this early on."

Plagg rolled his eye, but got moving. "Something tells me flying mini-gods wouldn't freak him out that much."

They once again ate crosslegged on her bed.

"...And I really need to get it fitted so I can finish it. Do you know if Tim is at the manor?"

"He should be." Damian took a sip of his drink. "It didn't sound like he had any plans."

She pulled out the puppy dog eyes. "Think we could swing by?"

It earned her one of his rare laughs, but he agreed.

"Later I could drive you by Azalea too."

It was a genuine request and not a way to tell her she was pushing it too far.

He wasn't mocking her.

That was easily one of the best things about Damian.

His straight forwardness.

Anxiety was easier to deal with when you knew exactly where you had someone.

"How can you be so sure I want to see Azalea?"

He shrugged. "You mumble when you sew. You listed things you had to get done."

Huh.

She did not know that.

The manor was just as impressive the second time around.

Someday she needed to get time to do something with all that inspiration.

Damian led her down a hallway and soon they could hear panicked voices coming from the room in front of them.

"Are you sure he isn't here?"

"Of course, I'm sure! He never came home."

"Then why didn't you say that yesterday?"

"I didn't know. He wasn't supposed to be out last night."

"So you lost him."

"I didn't lose him. He's just gone."

That's when they walked straight into the room.

Apparently it was a livingroom.

All his siblings, or at least all that she knew of, were there along with his father.

They were all staring.

One of Damian's eyebrows were up.

She winced. "Tim's jacket needs to be fitted."

Tim was nodding, but he didn't seem to be totally aware of anything.

His eyes hadn't blinked since they entered.

Damian evidently gave up. "I'll be letting Marinette set up in my room. You know where to find us when you're done imitating fish."

Chapter Text

He took her to his room without comment.

She would need some time to get that blush under control.

It wasn't that much of imagination needed to figure out what it had looked like when they walked in like that.

Specifically when they walked in together in the morning hours with him wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

A normal life he might never have had, but even he could see what conclusions they'd be jumping to.

Marinette had certainly noticed if that shade of red was anything to go by.

Well, they were a family of detectives.

They'd come to their senses when the shock passed.

Hopefully they'd realise what happened without bringing it up in front of Marinette again.

Or with him.

The conversations that could come from that wasn't something he wanted to be forced through.

Their faces had been worth it though...

"Is that the picture I sent to Luka and Kagami?"

He turned his focus to his desk where she had put down the sewing machine.

His latest passtime was the object of her attention.

"No, it's just a small painted replica of it." He came over to her as she began pulling up the picture in question on her phone.

"Just a replica..." Side by side they looked nearly identical. A few details were the only differences. "Did you paint this from memory?"

A nod.

She'd showed him the picture before she sent it to her friends.

It had stuck in his mind and hadn't left until he'd gotten it on paper.

One week was enough to get the angel that was Marinette stuck in his mind so he shouldn't be surprised.

The scene he returned to was unbelieveable.

Timothy clearly appreciated the effort she'd put into the jacket.

He was practically drooling as he argued over the price.

"That's outlandish! This is worth so much more."

"No. I'm an amateur designer and you're a billionaire's son. The price completely fair." She didn't turn away from her glaring contest. "Did you reach Azalea?"

He settled down on his bed to enjoy the show. "Yes. She's expecting us sometime this afternoon."

Without fail his brother ignored him and continued on.

"Exactly! I'm a billionaire's son. Money isn't supposed to be an issue. And don't even start about being an amateur. Have you seen that jacket?"

"Of course I've seen it. I made it."

"Well, then you should accept the money for it."

"Don't act as if throwing money on problems solve them."

"I'm not trowing money at a problem. I'm paying you for your work. Those aren't the same thing."

The entertainment value truly was first class.

He took notes for his own money related dilemma.

Sneaking her the money back obviously wouldn't work.

It would just end up in his hands again by the way this conversation was going.

He'd need to settle it once and for all if he was going to succeed.

Who knew paying for lunch would lead to this?

"That's more than I make in a year. What makes you believe I'd ever accept that much?"

"Lunch is-" Dick stopped in the doorway. "Why are they screaming at each other?"

"They are negotiating terms of payment."

"By yelling?" Eyebrows raised to high heavens.

"They only started yelling ten minutes ago when calmly discussing didn't quite get the point across."

"Okay. But why aren't you stopping them?"

"It's entertaining to watch the chaos." He shrugged. "I think they're enjoying it. Why should I get between that?"

The sigh couldn't be heard over all the screaming.

His expression was enough anyway.

"We're missing three people," is the first thing his father said at the lunch table.

A room full of trained individuals and everyone still checked to see who weren't there.

"Drake and Marinette are currently negotiating terms of payment," he informed them all.

"And Dick? I thought he was supposed to tell you to come down."

"He made the mistake of interfering." As if on cue they could all hear loud voices coming from upstairs. "I believe they will be down in a moment."

Jason turned the attention back to father. "I'm impressed you could tell how many that's missing considering the amount of times we've had to get a bigger table."

"And do we need three specific people or would anyone do? I think we've already filled one of those chairs." Stephanie pointed to the seat next to her.

Alfred the cat looked smug.

He didn't talk much.

Instead he listened and observed.

It physically pained him to admit how he enjoyed seeing Marinette interact with his family.

She did it as easily as breathing.

Switching from laughing with Jason to gossiping with Stephanie and than moving on without a problem.

As if she'd never done anything else.

She fit in.

He was content.

"What were you even arguing about?"

There would never be a time where he didn't enjoy this.

And they did get to see the more fiery side of her personality so that was definitely a bonus.

"It was nice meeting you."

His father shook her hand. "The pleasure was ours, Miss Dupain-Cheng. You're more than welcome to visit the next time you're in Gotham."

She laughed. "I'll make sure to remember that."

Cass and Stephanie pulled her into a hug.

Not that she was complaining.

"Don't be a stranger," Cass told her.

The blonde's grin left no question of who had taught her that expression.

"And send photos! I need to know if your bakery is as amazing as you described it." Stephanie licked her lips. "Shame you can't send pastries in the post."

Dick and Tim both said their goodbyes and soon Jason was the only one left.

"Take care of yourself, Pixie."

"Hmph. Do I really look that much like a small magical girl?"

"Short? Yes." He grinned at her dismay. "And magical? Well, what you've done to the gremlin over here is nothing short of magic."

She'd smiled too.

Tim frowned. "Are we still going to ignore the fact that Damian apparently has a friend from school?"

"Yep," Dick said. "Dami has just gotten his first girlfriend and and a friend his age. Don't ruin this."

Jason's eyed the motorcycle as they were getting ready to leave. "What he means is that you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth."

"So... How long do you think it will last until it crash and burns?" Stephanie questioned.

Cass shook her head.

Chapter Text

"Come in." They heard Azalea's voice call. "It's open."

They found her sitting on her bed.

An absurd amount of clicking met their ears as she continued to write away on her laptop. "Take a seat. I just have to finish this real quick."

She decided to sit on the bed with her as she saw Damian take the spinning chair at the desk.

"And I'm done." The last key was hit harder than the rest in a way that was final.

It couldn't have been easy to achieve considering how hard she'd pressed all the other keys.

Azalea looked pleased with herself.

Too pleased...

"What did you do?"

"Me?" Azalea put a hand on her heart. "I'm innocent as a baby."

It would have been more credible if she hadn't grinned all the way through.

Damian even snorted.

"Essay?"

The redhead nodded. "Essay."

Personally she had no idea what they were on about nor why they found it funny.

It had to be something noteworthy if Damian found it amusing.

That was why she didn't hesitate in taking the laptop when it was handed to her.

"You had way too much fun with this."

Azalea laughed freely. "How many did you find?"

"Nine."

"Close." Damian had been reading over her shoulder. "Ten."

Yeah, she was definitely starting to see how these to had struck up whatever weird kind of friendship they had.

They both loved messing with people.

"Do you hide insults in all your essays or is this a special case?"

"Nah, just for this teacher." The redhead shrugged. "He takes bribes from some of the rich kids' parents so that they don't flunk."

"And he's never noticed?"

"Nope. He's not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. He always needs a thesaurus when marking a certain someone's work."

Damian's smirk was straight up devillish. "It is not my fault that his vocabulary is extremely limited."

"You're leaving tomorrow?"

She nodded. "Yep. We came by so I could say goodbye."

Azalea starred. "You're leaving with the bunch of morons you have the unfortune to call classmates?"

There honestly wasn't anything about this that could be difficult to understand.

Especially for someone this smart.

"Sometimes I wonder how all my friends are so outspoken about their opinions..."

The girl had the audacity to laugh. "Well, I do have a theory if you're interested in hearing it."

"And that is?"

"You're a kind person, but kindness isn't what you value most in friendship." She paused as to get time to formulate the right words. "You want honesty. Not the no secrets untold kind, but more like a certainty that who you see is who you get. You like people who'll stand by what they say. Sometimes that means calling it as you see it despite the possibility of hurting people."

Huh.

That was... something.

Probably true in some degree at least if she really thought about it, but still.

Wideeyed she tilted her head. "You sure you're not aiming to become a psychologist?"

"I'm sure." Her nose wrinkled a tiny bit.

The chair Damian was siting in creaked just the slighest as he slowly spun around to face them.

She couldn't remember seeing him turning away.

"A psychologist would have gone further and explained it as a consequense of certain characters that's had influence on your life and put it down as a fear of being uncertain about people's true nature and loyalties."

It was stated in a no nonsense tone while he stroked a black and brown cat.

Come on!

He somehow pulled of cartoon villain without looking ridiculous.

Far from it.

She didn't even know where the cat came from.

Azalea had a cat.

The cat was called Albert.

Albert liked Damian.

Damian liked Albert.

At least it was a comfort to know that her biggest competition for Damian's affections was a cat.

Even if she wouldn't know how that fight would end.

Made for a great photo though.

"You named your cat after Albert Einstein?"

"He climbs onto my books and falls asleep on them if I pull too many all nighters in a row." Azalea tried to glare at the cat, but her eyes were clearly fond. "If it goes further he'll start pushing my coffee off the table."

"You're serious?"

She nodded. "As the mob when someone blows up a few of their buildings to get a chunk of their territory."

"..."

"Look that cat in the eyes and tell me he isn't an evil mastermind."

Marinette kept her eyes firmly on Azalea. "I'm starting to wonder if Albert is the only one of those in this room."

"Yeah, you're right." The girl smirked. "Damian does give of some truly evil vibes. You know like the would kick a puppy kind?"

The offence on Damian's face was clear as day.

He wasn't trying to hide it at all. "Like I'd ever sink that low. Animal cruelty truly is the worst kind of evil."

Yeah, in hindsight Albert would probably be winning the fight over Damian.

It was nice spending time with a new friend.

She could see herself and Azalea growing close if given the chance.

Her instincts were screaming at her for thinking she could let new people in again.

They'd been doing it for nearly a week by now.

It was getting easier to shut them out.

Someday she wouldn't hear them at all.

That's what Kagami and Luka and her parents always said.

In a cramped bedroom in the arguably worst city in the world with her boyfriend and friend arguing about the incompetence of today's youth she leaned back.

And for the first time she believed it.

A rock'n'roll ringtone put an immediate end to the debate.

She didn't recognise the number. "I've got to take this."

Moments later she answered the phone in the kitchen.

"This is Principal Smith. I'm sorry for calling you on a saturday, but I assumed you'd want to hear the good news as quickly as possible."

Chapter Text

Marinette exited the room to take the call.

She'd closed the door behind her.

That left him with Azalea.

They realised after a while that they would probably need to talk.

"Do you remember when I sat next to you that very first time?" Azalea said and thereby broke the silence that had reigned.

It wasn't an awkward silence, but it was far from comfortable.

Tense might be the correct term.

"You'd only been there for a couple of weeks and already made yourself quite the reputation." She snorted. "I still remember how everyone held their breath when I put my things down next to you."

He remembered that too.

"I believe the last 11 times someone had tried might have something to do with that."

She continued on like he hadn't said anything at all. "The first thing you did was wrinkle your nose and glare at me."

He remembered how he had thought the bookish girl wouldn't last twenty minutes.

"You told me to work on my glare because you'd seen scarier looks from your cat."

She hadn't sat anywhere else after that.

Marinette wasn't back yet.

That left them to reminiscing.

"You accepted it after a while. I remember that day when you finally gave up on trying to get me to move." She grinned. "I consider it one of my greatest accomplishments."

"It wasn't worth it," he tried to make it sound less of a surrender. "You were quiet, serious and didn't have a problem with sounding like a sensible human being when we had to have discussions."

"Likewise, Wayne. Likewise."

In the beginning he'd made up his mind about every child in his class.

He'd observed and noted everything about them during that first day.

None of them had left any kind of lasting impression.

They were all the same.

Inarticulate. Egotistical. Spoiled.

Everyone at least checked off two of those.

They were the kind of people that thought themself unforgetable while the truth was far from it.

He'd probably never thought of them again if he never had had to go back.

Most everyone was sheltered rich kids with some scholarship students mixed in trying to blend in.

In the end Azalea had been the only one to prove him wrong.

"What about aquintances?"

"We know too much about each other for that." He shook his head. "Associates."

"Too impersonal. You might as well call us colleagues."

"Classmates."

She looked at him. "Are you placing me in the same category as the rest of our classmates?"

"Allies."

"Partners in crime."

"Former aquintances turned friends."

"You said it yourself. We know way too much about each other to ever have been aquintances." She thought for a moment. "Illicit and reluctant friends."

"You make it sound like we were having a love affair."

"Good point. Confidants? We know enough about each other for that one."

"Except we never told each other any of it." He frowned. "We simply proved that two intelligent people that spend all day next to each other inevitebly will find out far too much."

"So what were we?"

For once in his life he owned up to it. "I have no clue."

The relationship between them was complicated to say the least.

That's what happened when you spent years in each other's immediate circles.

Azalea was a scholarship kid.

She'd been in one of Gotham's public schools before someone noticed how good she was at what she did.

Her grades rivaled his.

Socially she should have been a nobody except somehow her intelligence and her attitude had gotten her upgraded to socially neutral.

It was unpredecented for a scholarship student to be on speaking terms with more than a handful, but she'd done it.

However, that did not change the fact that she prefered to be on her own.

She didn't make enemies, but neither did she make friends.

Everyone was kept at arm's distance.

He understood why.

The term 'friends' might be one they loosely used and only since recently, but they had been far from unknowns.

They'd had their escapades together.

There had been a few group projects they'd done in the library and, on one memorable occasion, at her flat.

They'd both covered for each other several times.

There was also that one time they'd gotten a teacher arrested...

But they rarely spoke with each other without a clear goal.

They weren't awkward nor comfortable with it.

It was always tense.

Tense of words currently unsaid.

Of admissions neither of them wanted to make.

Because sometimes it was easier to pretend.

It was impossible to forget what they already knew, but they could very well pretend that they didn't.

Yes, their relationship was not easily definable.

"I don't have anything against you," Azalea told him. "I want you to know that."

"Oh," he paused. "I don't have anything against you either."

To anyone else that would sound nonsensical.

They both knew better.

They both knew the legitimate reasons for that simple statement to be false.

By now they knew those reasons didn't matter to them.

That was enough.

"So what did I miss?" Marinette asked them as she flopped down on the bed.

Her giant smile did not go unnoticed by either of them.

"Nothing much. We've been clearing the air a bit." Azalea elbowed Marinette. "Now tell us what's got you all happy."

Marinette turned her eyes to them instead of the ceiling.

Her smile grew. "I've been accepted."

"You mean-" The red head's mouth hung open and her eyes were wide as saucers.

She nodded enthusiactically. "I'll be going to your school!"

He got front row seats as they started hugging and squealing while jumping up and down.

Was that normal?

Actually, who cared?

His ears would recover and this was worth celebrating.

Looks like distance wouldn't be a problem anymore.

"Come on, Damian." Azalea's smile was as large as Marinette's by now. "Join in."

"I don't even know what your doing."

Marinette looked scandalised. "You don't know what a celebratory dance is?"

"Should I know what that is?" he questioned them.

His girlfriend proceeded to drag him up from his chair and into the middle of the room. "Just do what we do."

A few hours later

"And text me when your plane lands."

Marinette laughed. "Don't worry. I will."

Damian looked her over once they finished hugging goodbye.

"Are you sure you have everything?"

She could see how Marinette mentally checked things off.

She couls also tell the exact moment she remembered what she forgotten.

"My bag! One moment."

Then she dashed back into her room to look for it.

"You better get used to it. That girl would forget her head if it wasn't on her shoulders."

Damian shook his head. "It's not the worst thing a person could have to deal with."

"No, it's not."

The girl in question came back in waving a handbag around. "Found it. It was hiding on your windowsill, but I have no idea how it got there," she panted.

Must have been stressed.

"Bye, M." Then the girl was out the door. "I'll see you in school, Birdboy."

Damian stopped in the door opening and stared at her.

"What?" She grinned. "Don't you remember that drawing you did on your math test last year?"

He didn't stop staring. "That wasn't a bird. It was a bat."

Her grin only grew. "It was? My bad then."

That earned a snort as he left.

She laughed as she went back to her room.

Her mum would be back soon and by then she should have all her homework done.

But she frowned when she saw her windowsill.

More specifically the potted plant on it.

Her bedroom only had that one plant in it.

Her friends had given it to her and she took special care of it to make sure it was healthy at all times.

It looked like it had been pushed away from the edge and more into the centre.

Her memory was also very clear on it being a lot smaller when they'd been in here earlier.

Chapter Text

Her phone had started going off early in the morning with texts.

All of them some version of safe journey.

Every one that came from someone in Gotham made her all jittery inside.

This trip had given her so many new friends that cared.

"Someone could have seen you!" Tikki buzzed on.

Plagg rolled his green eyes. "No one else was in the room."

She looked around the room to make sure she had everything as she listened to the argument unfold.

"But what if someone was? A moving bag usually isn't excused as a trick of light." Tikki's arms was waving. "And what if I hadn't caught the flower in time? The noise would have Azalea running in."

Plagg stretched. "Calm down. No harm done."

The padlock on her suitcase clicked shut.

"Yeah, I'm all packed and leaving in an hour."

"Make sure to call us when you land."

"Will do, mama."

"You can't call it a guardian meeting if it's only the three of us here," Plagg decided to argue.

He had a point, but she didn't want to think too much about that.

"Okay," she instead said. "Then it's the meeting of creation and destruction kwamis and humans."

Tikki's face was all scrunched up. "Bit of a mouthful."

"And what humans? There's only one of you." Plagg's frown somehow grew. "Actually that's a good point. Why don't I get a human to make this fair?"

This was going great so far.

Absolutely great.

How was she supposed to get this back on track?

"Why would that make it fair? You don't even have a holder right now," the red kwami questioned.

"There's two of you and one of me. Two for creation and only one for destruction." He made a great point of waving between himself and them. "You've fixed the system so you'll always win. What kind of democracy is this?"

"It's not fixed!"

Marinette put her hand to her temple. "Who even said this was a democracy?"

She was ignored.

"Just call in Mr. Boyfriend. He's chaotic enough to even out the scores."

"Plagg, he's been my boyfriend for less than a week. I'd actually like to keep him and dumping this freakshow on him isn't going to help that."

The kwami of destruction lounged carefree on nothing but air.

"You're gonna have to tell him eventually."

"Eventually isn't today, tomorrow or any other day in the immediate future."

Hopefully she didn't just jinx herself.

"I know we've been at this for a long time, but it's time we end this."

"We have never been this close before. With some hard work we should be able to stop this once and for all," Tikki agreed.

Plagg stretched. "You've got some solid back up too now that catboy's gone."

She paced her empty hotel room.

It was all true.

Years of battles had given them time to think of a strategy and learn from mistakes.

Kagami and Luka were the most reliable back up she could ever have.

Especially now that all wayward miraculouses except the butterfly and the peacock were back where they belonged.

No distractions.

But now they had a deadline.

She would be starting school in a couple of weeks and there was no way she would leave without finishing what she'd started.

Who knew what she'd do after, but this needed to end.

Unnegotiable.

These were going to be some hectic weeks before she could walk away.

Lots of stuff to get in order, plans to make and villains to stop once and for all.

She'd been there in the beginning and she was going to see it through.

Gabirel Agreste needed to be stopped.

She asked the guy in the reception to send her thanks to all of the personel as she checked out.

He'd blinked, but agreed.

She was the first one on the bus.

That meant she had perfect view from her window to see the rest of the class gathering with Miss Bustier.

No one batted an eye at her absence.

They probably didn't notice.

Kagami and Luka sent a video message.

Her heart cramped up when they both told her how much they missed her.

What had she done to deserve people like them?

The gruff bus driver loosened up when she thanked him.

She'd taken a different queue for security than the rest of the class.

It ended up saving her thirty minutes of waiting as security practically opened every other bag.

Thirty minutes was more than enough time for her to take a stroll around and buy a coffee.

She reached the gate before them anyway.

Damian: Have a pleasant flight, Angel.

Me: Thanks, but it's way too many hours to be pleasant. Hoping to sleep through it;)

Damian: Have a pleasant nap then, Angel.

Me: Will do. Miss you already xxx

...

She left for the bathroom so Tikki could talk her out of panic when she noticed that she'd added kisses.

Plagg's cackling was not helping.

Damian had been too busy to drop by today so they'd said their goodbyes yesterday.

He'd brought her back to her hotel in the evening.

Words in quiet tones were exchanged before he had to leave.

She'd pulled him into a hug.

Stiff had been the first word to come to mind, but then he'd leaned in and hugged her back.

They passed the limit for appropriate time for a hug to last by a lot.

It hadn't mattered to her in the least.

It would be weeks before she physically saw him again.

She was getting that hug and she was going to enjoy it.

And she had.

She really had.

If she closed her eyes she could still feel the weight of his arms around her.

His warmth even in the cold airport air.

If that was what hugging him felt like then she would have to do it much more often.

"Flight xxx to Paris is now boarding. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready."

She heaved her cabin bag up on the shelf and quickly scooched into the window seat at the back of the airplane to get out of the aisle.

Passengers entered in a steady stream trying to find their seats.

Tikki and Plagg had settled down in her purse and both smiled when she checked on them.

Her phone had already been turned off and the ruckus up front had nothing to do with her.

All that was left was to wait.

She watched as the last bags were loaded onto the plane below.

Then the luggage truck drove away when they were finished.

Planes were coming in to park and getting out on the runway to leave.

It was bustling with activity everywhere.

And right in the middle of it all she was.

So close, but yet so far away.

That feeling of being underwater and hearing everything from a distance.

Everything was muted, but very much alive.

Travelling was a wonderful thing.

It was barely that she noticed when someone took the seat next to her.

But then she returned to the present and tuned back in to her surroundings.

The face she met beside her was her boyfriend's.

"Don't worry," he told her. "I'll be quiet. I know you've been looking forward to sleeping the hours away."

Yeah, she just threw that plan out the window without a second thought.