Chapter Text
Five times Marinette broke Damian’s heart and one time he broke hers
Marinette was a lot of things; optimistic, happy, loud, energetic, kind, but there was one thing she wasn’t. Self-controlled when her curiosity got the best of her. So, despite being asked to spend the day upstairs, she found herself sitting at the top of the stairs, peeking through the railing. Small hands clasping a bar on either side of her head, she tried to get a good view of the visitors. In her attempt to see better she slipped her head between the bars and was finally able to see around the beam previously blocking her view.
Tom and Sabine were downstairs talking to a man in a suit with his back to Marinette. The door chimed and in walked a boy her age with an elderly man behind him. Even from the top of the stairs Marinette could see the striking emerald green eyes the boy had.
Especially when he snapped his head up and looked directly at her. Marinette squeaked and tried to pull away without any success, her ears catching on the bars and preventing her from slipping back out. In a panic, Marinette let out a scream before slipping her hands around the bars and covering her face in an attempt to “hide” herself when her parents looked up.
“Marinette!” Tom was the first to react, running up the stairs, Sabine letting out a startled gasp before following.
Marinette continued to struggle against the stairs as her parents reached the top.
“Butter! Get some butter!” Tom frantically shouted, arms falling to rest on Marinette’s shoulders to stop her from continuously pulling.
“Does that work?! Marinette, honey, stop pulling, just breathe!” Sabine tried to keep her voice level, but every other word seemed to go up an octave.
“That won’t be necessary.” A third and unfamiliar voice spoke calmly in English. Marinette wanted to turn and see who it was but the beams prevented her from seeing much to her left.
Her parents stepped aside as a new set of hands came to rest on the nape of her neck. “Miss Marinette,” the man began, this time in French, “I just want you to close your eyes and count down from five okay? When you get to one, you’re going to pull your head back.”
Marinette furiously nodded her head in understanding. “Five,” she started, squeezing her eyes shut. “Four, three, two,” taking a deep breathe, she readied herself, “One!” and then pulled back, head slipping past the two bars and falling back against a stranger. “Hello.”
The man chuckled, letting the two bars go and helping Marinette to her feet. “Hello.”
“How did you..?”
“I just pulled the bars ever so slightly apart so you could slip out more easily.” The man explained, Sabine stepping around the man to pull Marinette into a hug.
“Are you okay, honey?” Sabine cooed, holding her tightly.
“Thank you!” Tom exclaimed, shaking the man’s hand before turning to Marinette and Sabine.
“Maman, who is that?” Marinette asked, eyes never leaving the man’s face as he smiled gently down at her.
“I’m Bruce Wayne,” he started, kneeling down on the steps to be level with her. “I’m from Gotham City, my Butler and good friend, Alfred, recommended your parents bakery for a catering service for a charity event I’m hosting here in a few weeks.” He explained, glancing at her parents.
“Is that your son?” she asked, pointing to the boy at the bottom of the steps, said boys’ eyebrows furrowing at the finger pointing.
Bruce glanced down briefly before nodding “Yes, Damian.”
“Is he six like me?”
“I am.” The boy answered before Bruce could.
“How about you show Damian some of your toys while we finish talking with Bruce?” Sabine offered, ruffling her daughter’s hair before standing back up.
“I think it’s a great idea.” Bruce nodded, glancing back to Damian. “Be nice.” He spoke sternly, the boy huffing as he climbed the steps to meet Marinette at the top.
Tom, Sabine and Bruce made their way back down, leaving Marinette alone with Damian at the top of the steps.
“What kind of toys do you like?” Marinette asked, a slight tilt to her head.
“Swords.”
Marinette giggled at the response before realizing that he was being serious. “Why swords?”
“Mother trained me with them.” He answered simply before continuing up the last step and into the Dupain-Cheng’s living room.
“What kind of a mother does that?” Marinette asked, following behind the boy.
“The kind that is a monster.” He answered, with the most proper wording Marinette had ever heard from another kid her age.
That was when she realized he was speaking French. “Do you know English too?”
“Yes. And Arabic.” The boy nodded, exploring the living room, boredom spreading across his face.
“I’ve never heard Arabic before.”
Damian didn’t answer, instead, he paused by the hallway table where above it hung two blades against a wooden board, the casing for them hung below it.
“Whose are those?” he questioned, taking note of the detailing on the case.
“My mom’s,” she answered, stepping up beside him. “Her dad gave them to her a wedding gift.”
She noticed the way his eyebrows rose slightly at the comment. He must’ve really been interested in swords.
“Do you want some tea?”
Damian perked up at the question, turning to look at her before nodding. Marinette grinned from ear to ear and immediately skipped to the kitchen, Damian following behind her. She began to go off about a new tea set her grandmother had sent her a few weeks ago, Damian taking a seat at the table and listening intently. Marinette mentally high fived herself for finding something that interested the boy. She wanted him to enjoy his time with her while their parents did business.
While the tea steeped Marinette ran off to her room and came back with her sketch book, a coloring book, pencils and crayons. Dropping all the items on her table, she turned back to the tea, pouring out two cups and handing one off to Damian.
“I brought some coloring things so we could do something while we drink.” She smiled, tearing out a blank sheet and sliding it over to him.
The two sat in silence while Damian took a pencil and used the coloring book as a clipboard. Marinette eyed the boy curiously, wondering what he could be drawing.
“Is it true that Gotham has a superhero?” she finally asked, the boys eyes flickering up to her briefly before turning back to the sheet in hand.
“Yes.”
“What’s their name?”
“Batman.”
“Is it just him?”
No.”
“What other hero’s are there?”
“Several. Nightwing, Robin, Red Hood.”
“Have you ever met them?”
“Yes.”
Marinette finally paused on the questions, turning her attention to her sketchbook instead. A few minutes of silence passed between the two before she looked up at him and the two made eye contact. Marinette smiled and he huffed, glancing back down.
Nearly half an hour later and three designs later, Alfred came up the stairs, clearing his throat slightly. “Master Damian, your father is ready to go.” Marinette jumped out of her seat, scrambling to the stairs before pausing to wait for Damian to catch up.
Damian folded up the sheet he had been drawing on, stuffing it into his pocket and then followed Marinette down the stairs, Alfred following behind the two.
Tom, Sabine and Bruce stood in the bakery’s doorway, chatting as they approached. Marinette turned to Damian, smile spreading across her face. “It was great meeting you.” She started in French, hands fidgeting in front of her before huffing. “I…hope to see you again…” Marinette started in English, forgetting her final word, she wrapped up in French, “bientôt!” she beamed, proud of herself.
She caught the slight hint of a smile on Damian’s face before she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek in goodbye. The boys cheeks dusted pink ever so slightly and Marinette turned to smile to Bruce and Alfred. “Au revoir!” she smiled, the two men returning the smile and farewell before stepping out, Alfred leading a still silent Damian out of the bakery.
She really did hope to see the boy again. She would have to tell Nino all about him.
~*~*~
“Miss Marinette seemed… nice.” Alfred smiled, glancing into the rearview mirror to look at Damian.
“She was interesting.” He nodded, resting his elbow against the door and staring out at the streets of Paris.
“That’s what Dick used to say about Kori.” Bruce pointed out, pulling his phone out to read through his email before they got back to the hotel.
“Koriand’r is interesting.” Damian snapped back, nose scrunching at the thought of the alien girl.
“That she is.” Bruce hummed in agreement.
The rest of the ride to the hotel was silent, Damian thinking about the girl the entire way. She had been overly energetic and talkative. Something that normally irritated him, even Jon would often get on his nerves. But somehow, the girl did it in a way that… wasn’t so infuriating.
~*~*~
“Father, will we be seeing Miss Dupain-Cheng again?”
Bruce turned to glance at Damian, curiosity written all over the boys face. “Possibly at the gala if her parents bring her.”
Damian didn’t seem satisfied by the response but still nodded.
“I can ask her parents to bring her… so she can experience a gala in case she hasn’t before.” Bruce continued, not missing the excitement in his son’s eyes.
“If you wish.” Damian responded as calmly as he could before turning on his heels and exiting the room.
~*~*~
The night of the gala, Damian spent the first half hour wandering around the dance floor, trying as subtly as he could to find Marinette. His father had told him the Dupain-Chengs had brought her, he had even seen her helping bring in some of the catered desserts.
It took another half hour before Damian finally found her standing by the fountain in a pretty pink dress. A glittery tutu bouncing around her as she moved to the music. Damian felt his heart skip a beat and frowned at the feeling, his mother would’ve called it a sign of weakness.
Finally mustering up the courage, he made his way over to her.
“Hello.” He greeted, the girl pausing to turn towards him.
“Hello!” she smiled back.
“Are you enjoying the gala?”
Marinette nodded enthusiastically. “Are you?”
Damian gave a quick nod before holding a hand out to her, “Would you like to dance?”
“I thought I was.” Marinette teased before taking his hand and pulling him out onto the dance floor. The two spent the better part of an hour dancing around the adults, twirling and jumping around, the two laughing at each other.
“Oh!” Marinette exclaimed at one point, pulling Damian to the side and pointing at another boy from across the room. “That’s Adrien Agreste!” she swooned, gripping Damian’s arm tightly. “He’s so dreamy, his dad is a fashion designer! I want to be just like his dad one day.”
Damian frowned at the words. Had she just called a boy dreamy?
“What do you mean by dreamy?”
Marinette raised an eyebrow in confusion with a giggle. “I just think he’s cute and has pretty eyes and he’s sweet. He’s always with his mom and dad during interviews. I hope I can meet him one day.”
Damian frowned further if possible, what could have possibly been special about this Agreste boy? “What about me?” the words slipped out before Damian could think about them.
“What?” Marinette asked, smile wavering slightly.
“I don’t… I didn’t mean to—”
“You have pretty eyes too. But Adrien is dreamy in a romantic way.” She giggled.
Damian let her continue on about the boy, deciding he didn’t want to question her further. She could obsess over this other boy if she so desired. Damian knew his worth. He knew he could be all that Adrien was and more if he wanted. He knew. And besides, he was the one standing beside Marinette in that moment, not the Agreste boy. But still…
Damian wasn’t exactly sure why her words still hurt. He didn’t know why he cared so much.
He didn’t know why his heart felt heavy with each word she spoke.