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If you asked Tim – there are many thing that he loves about his girlfriend. One of them being the fact that she is insanely talented, highly educated, has a sharp wit---okay, he knows that’s more than just one thing, but how do you expect him to narrow it down exactly? He’s absolutely certain he can’t – that’s why he has a list. A list of the top things that he loves and cherishes about her. One of the things, however, that he does not appreciate is her fondness for sticking to a theme. He hums at the back of his throat as he walks into the room and he knows he should be on edge. After all, it’s Halloween week, and Marinette goes all out for every single holiday. She says it’s because she was raised to sell things and so of course she has to make big deals about them – he thinks, she’s full of shit. (fondly, he thinks this. He suspects she just likes dressing up.)
It’s their first Halloween together and as he passes by the door frame, he sees something out of the corner of his eye – but quickly forgets about it. It’s probably nothing. He walks in and she’s got a cauldron on the counter with a candle lit underneath – and he briefly wonders why it looks so used before he throws it to the back of his mind under the List of Marinette’s Quirks. The List of Marinette’s Quirks include: carrying a varying amount of food in her purse, refusing her purse to not be on her, freaking out when an alarm blares on her phone – now a cauldron that looks used – it’s just another thing; that he’s going to ignore until he can’t.
She comes out – dressed …. In something – he’s really not certain and she stops, wide-eyes look at him and to her cauldron and then back to him. (okay so, she wasn’t expecting him, that’s fine.
“are you planning on being –” he eyes her again, taking in the black and red (and part of him purrs in contentment to see her in his colours; while the more logical part of him knows that even if they are his colours, this is not a red robin outfit), “a ladybug witch?”
She blinks at him, and laughs awkwardly, “what- what do you mean?”
He gestures to the now boiling cauldron that’s letting out smoke – (and again, he wonders when that happened. He heard something drop inside the liquid, the pop and cackle that the pot made, but he also knows that Marinette wasn’t there. Now he doesn’t believe in ghosts – or phantoms – or spiri--- actually, scratch that he does. He’s fought a few before, and eyes Marinette with a more guarded look.)
“You know ‘double double, toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble?”
Her brows furrow – “Like from Macbeth – the witch scene?” he tacks on. (He’s only acutely aware of it because Jason had stormed into the Manor – every Halloween since he joined the Wayne’s and that he’s been back- to make them watch Macbeth citing something about how it’s the perfect spooky Play – not the movie – he was adamant on that, but the play itself.)
There’s a cackle from somewhere in her apartment and Marinette’s brows become pinched with frustration.
“Marinette what is going on?” She looks like she’s half-ready to jump out the window – and he knows from experience she would jump out of a window to escape from a conversation. He moves to be in the center of the room to stop her from bolting for the door or the window. “I know a person if you’ve got ghosts?”
She opens her mouth and eyes the windows and door and lets out a defeated sigh. “No ghosts or phantoms live here.” He scoffs. SOMETHING lives here besides just Marinette. There’s been too many instances of him seeing something from the edge of his gaze and by the time he’s been able to turn his head, it’s been gone. “Yeah, that’s not going to work petite pastry.”
She gestures for him to follow her – and he does, noticing that she’s leading him towards the couch. “Technically – by all technicals – I am classified as a witch.” He startles – not expecting to hear that from her mouth. “What do you mean by technically?”
She sends him a grin, tired and wary and he almost feels bad for forcing her to tell him, when he has his own secrets that he’s been keeping too. Almost.
“I am the guardian of a bunch of mini-gods?” she offers, hesitantly, and her hands gesture to the cauldron, “I’m working on potions for them. It’s something that I was given responsibility over when I was a teen – but I don’t do things like – well no I can do spells too – but well, I don’t –“ she huffs and he winces. “So the things I see out of the corner of my eyes sometimes? That cackling?”
She deflates even more if possible, “That was Plagg. Concept of Destruction.”
The kwami materializes in front of his face and he almost lets out a scream. Just because Marinette says he did – doesn’t mean that he did, okay? Plagg nods, “No one has ever almost caught us that we did not want them to catch us.” And Marinette’s eyes widen and looks at the small cat creature – “Plagg did you all plan this?” The cat kwami shifts and laughs before zooming off to the kitchen.
Marinette groans, “I was going to tell you ---”
“But you felt safer not telling me. It’s okay.”
“You aren’t freaking out?”
Tim snorts. “We live in Gotham. I’ve seen stranger things.”
“You don’t want to --- break up?”
Tim shifts, and moves to grab her arm before yanking her towards him, carefully stationing them so her --- whatever the outfit is doesn’t move too much – “Nah. I’ve dated weirder.”
She grins, wide and bright up at him, “Do you – are you – interested in learning about it?” and he grins back at her, “I’ll listen to anything you need. If you need a duck for something, I’ll be it.”