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Tim had only been Robin for a year when he saw her. She was like a ray of sunshine illuminating the dreary cave system that was Gotham. She was walking out of what looked to be a fabric store carrying an almost absurd amount of fabric and numerous bags bulging with other sewing materials. Now, all of this would be perfectly reasonable at a more normal hour, but it was almost an hour after dark, and this kid, who looked to be no older than Tim, was out by herself, with seemingly no care in the world. Or, well, that's not quite right, she did seem a bit frantic, but it didn't seem to be because of the danger being out on the streets of Gotham at night.
She looked down at her phone and started walking away from him, not noticing the red thread that fell from one of her bags as she did. Tim, still being used to not calling attention to himself when he was out on the streets after dark, but wanting to help her anyway, quickly ran to the spool of thread on the sidewalk. He ducked down to grab it and darted back up to run after her, not noticing the glass door that had been opened right in front of him as he did so.
"Owww," he groaned. He absently noticed the door, which had a handicapped symbol on it, had started closing after he ran into it. The guy who most likely used the door was already a good way down the street and obviously didn't care about the kid who just ran full tilt into the door he'd left open. Jerk.
Bell-like laughter drew his attention away from his unknowing assaulter. "Ah, please excuse me, monsieur Robin, I do not mean to laugh! But your, um, commitment to your theme, while awe-inspiring, might be unnecessary as a vigilante." Tim turned his head away from the street and found the girl he'd been watching observing grinning down at him, still holding her precariously balanced load of sewing material.
"You dropped this," he blurted, holding the spool of thread up to her. Realizing he was still on the ground, he scrambled to stand up, still holding her red thread out for her. "I, uh, you dropped this, and I was trying to get it back to you."
The girl looked surprised but grateful. "Thank you, monsieur! If I did not have this thread, my design will, er, would have been ruined," she said, quickly putting it into a bag it would be less likely to fall out of. She soon looked back up, though, with a contrite expression. "Oh, my apologies! My name is Marinette Dupian-Cheng, it's a pleasure to meet you!"
Huh, just realized she has an accent. It's pretty. "Uh, hi, I'm Robin, as you know," Tim said, internally cringing at the awkwardness in his voice. "Would you like some help carrying your bags to your destination, miss Dupian-Cheng?"
She grinned and gratefully handed him some of her load. "Thank you again, monsieur Robin, your offer was, ah, is appreciated! I am not being familiar with Gotham streets yet, so help with, ah, what's the word, navigated? Navigation? Would also be appreciated! And please, call me Marinette."
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Five years later, the Justice League's attention was brought to a concerning situation in Paris, starting with a mysterious communications blackout centered in the city. Looking back, the blackout started roughly around Tim's debut as Robin, just after a few "prank" calls came in claiming a giant rock monster was destroying the city. A cursory look into the situation had shown a rather whole looking city of love, so the calls were dismissed, and no more were logged, so the case was closed. Now? Almost every single citizen of Paris, from literal newborns to the oldest of the elderly, had died several times, and none of the League knew about it. All because one of the city's heroes (which, when did that even happen) had the power to reverse all damage caused by the villain that was holding them all emotionally hostage. Including death.
The worst part was, they had only discovered the problem because that same hero had finally reached out to them after six years of radio silence. She didn't call for them to come save the day, no, she called for a different form of help. She called because they'd finally won, and she needed time away from her home to heal. Ladybug had called them looking for refuge. She'd spent the last six years repressing her emotions and had never had the chance to properly grieve the loss of her childhood or her innocence. She feared if she stayed in Paris the way she was, she'd never be able to learn how to properly regulate her emotions.
She specifically asked if Batman would be willing to host her, as she had fond memories of traveling there as a civilian with her uncle before the Paris situation had gotten worse. Much to much of the League's shock, Bruce had agreed immediately. It was a well-known unspoken fact that he preferred all non-Gothamite metas and magicals to stay as far away from his city as possible unless given a specific invitation. Only those who knew him well knew why he had agreed so quickly. She reminded him of his sons.
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A lot had happened in Tim's life in the last five years year, from the whole thing with Jason, Jason not being dead, Jason trying to kill Tim, Jason being a crimelord, to everything that had gone down with the arrival of "the blood son", Damian trying to kill Tim, Damian trying to kill Tim again, Damian becoming Robin, and let's not forget Damian trying to kill Tim again. It was. It was fine, he was fine. He totally didn't mind having to move out of the manor just to not have to fear being stabbed again. Of course he didn't mind giving up Robin for a little menace that didn't deserve the cape—he was completely and totally okay with everything. Honestly, getting to pick a new vigilante name and costume was a relief! It wasn't like he missed being Robin, that was silly! He was still able to be a vigilante, his choice of name was due to being absurdly sleep deprived, there's no significant meaning to it beyond that, honest!
And denial isn't just a river in Egypt, Tim mentally scoffed at himself as he swung through his chosen area of the city. There was some construction going on where he was swinging, but with it being late at night, all the equipment was shut down, so it was safe enough to use the cranes as anchor points. Or at least, that's what he'd thought going into that area of town.
Swinging face first into a pane of bullet proof window glass dangling from a crane was definitely something he did not want to try again. Though it currently was looking like he wouldn't have to worry about that, since he'd accidentally let go of his grapple in his pain.
Suddenly, his downward momentum was changed into forward momentum as someone caught him. They landed on the roof of a building not too far away from the crane that nearly ended him and Tim's legs gave out from under him as soon as he was released. Never again. He was never swinging through construction again.
Bell-like laughter drew his attention away from his near death experience. "Ah, please excuse me, monsieur Red Robin, I do not mean to laugh! But your commitment to your theme, while awe-inspiring, is unnecessary as a vigilante."
Tim turned his head away from the crane and he swore he saw the little French girl from five years ago, the one with the excessive amount of sewing materials. The one who was in Gotham with her uncle while he was on tour. The one— "Marinette?" Her expression scrunched in slight confusion and he realized she may not have remembered him, or even put together that the vigilante she met that day had become the vigilante she'd just saved from near certain death. "I, uh, it's me, Robin, we met—actually, we met not too far from here, five years ago. You'd dropped a spool of red thread and I ran into a glass door trying to give back to you, and you—"
"Monsieur Red Robin, how did you see through the Miraculous magic?" Marinette interrupted him.
Tim squinted and tilted his head as he stood up. "Now that you mention it, I can kind of see some sort of overlay of a suit and domino mask over you? It looks kinda like what B showed us the Parisian heroine Ladybug—Marinette, are you—?"
She inhaled sharply and grabbed him around his waist again. "Come, this is not a discussion to be had on a rooftop," she said as she flung her—her yoyo? Next thing he knew, they were swinging across the city to a nondescript fire escape. She shoved the window open, soft music spilling out into the night, and gestured for him to enter first. Shrugging, he did. She followed close behind, shutting and locking the window before drawing the curtains. She turned back to him and inhaled deeply. "Tikki, spots off." There was a flash of pink light and the strange sort of overlay disappeared. In its place was a small, red, floating... Creature. With black spots. "Tikki, Red Robin, Red Robin, Tikki. Now, to the point, Tikki, why was Red Robin able to see through the Miraculous magic? We've literally only met once before, and the only thing similar between both instances was him running into something glass and me teasing him about it! Is the magic failing? Did I do something to it? Oh no, is it because Chat is still in Paris while I'm here in Gotham? I knew I should have asked him to come with me, the balance between us has to be so out of wack right now—"
"Marinette! Calm down! It's nothing like that, I promise!" The little red creature, Tikki, cried. Tim was still unsure what exactly Tikki was, but the little creature was trying to calm Marinette down, so he figured that could wait. "This is something good, trust me!"
Marinette stopped pacing and took a few deep breaths before turning to face Tikki. "Okay. How is this something good?"
Tikki turned to Tim and beamed. "You found your soulmate!"