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Look. She didn’t mean to become a secretary when she moved to Gotham. Her original plan wasn’t even to stay in town for very long. Long enough to get some inspiration for new designs, maybe long enough to build a few of the designs. But Gotham wasn’t originally her end goal. She was supposed to go to New York and work at one of the fashion houses there. Instead, she fell in love with the architecture of Gotham and decided to stay for just a little longer. And somehow, that led her to this moment.
“Mr. Drake, if you insist on giving me another official form filled out with a glitter gel pen, you will not find an ounce of caffeine available to you in this entire city.” Marinette threatens, eyes narrowed at her young boss. The kid raises an eyebrow in challenge.
“You don’t have the resources.” He says, but she can tell he’s not sure. She grins.
“Wanna bet?” She asks. They continue their standoff for another beat, before Tim huffs and slumps down in his chair.
“Fine. Whatever.” He grumbles. Marinette exhales slowly, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose to ward off the headache she could feel coming on.
“I’m not trying to just tell you what to do, you know.” Marinette says softly. Tim looks at her, pouting. “Every time you fill out an official form filled out in something other than blue or black ink, I have to completely redo it. Or I can send it, and Luthor can send in another official complaint to the board. And I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather be your secretary than his. Or your father’s.” Tim snorts, and Marinette feels relief settle in her chest. Sure, Tim Drake was her boss, but she definitely saw him more as the annoying little brother she’d never asked for but gotten anyway. And she hated when the kid was upset. Especially with her. Glancing at her watch, Marinette raises an eyebrow at the time.
“What?” Tim asks, making her jump slightly. His ability to read the slightest shift of body language was both amazing and disturbing.
“It’s far past time for lunch. You want your usual from Golding’s?” She asks, turning and heading towards the door.
“Oh, I don’t-”
“You’re getting lunch. Is your usual okay?” Marinette asks, pausing at the door to look at Tim. He huffs, but nods, grumbling a thanks under his breath. Marinette just grins and heads out of his office, deciding to stop by and make sure Mr. Wayne didn’t need anything for lunch before she left. Was it in her job description to grab lunch? No. She was a secretary, not a personal assistant. However, Tim Drake’s self preservation skills were next to none, and she didn’t think Mr. Wayne was much better. Rapping her knuckles on the door, she waits a moment before entering.
“Mr. Wayne? I was just heading out to pick up lunch for Mr. Drake from Golding’s. Did you-” She stops talking as she takes in the scene in front of her. She’d never seen Mr. Wayne look more like a father than in that moment. He was pinching the bridge of his nose in clear frustration, and a guy around her age was sitting at a chair across from him. The guy- while attractive- looked pissed, and Marinette was starting to worry that she’d have to literally kick the guy out. Mr. Wayne lets out a long sigh, giving her a small smile.
“I’m fine, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” He says with a small nod. Marinette glances at the empty coffee cup on the man’s desk and raises an eyebrow.
“Are you sure? Mr. Drake-”
“Is still a child and needs a proper lunch. I did have a protein bar and will be fine until an early dinner. Thank you, though, for your concern.” Mr. Wayne says kindly. She’d never quite understood the hatred that some people held for the man. While she wouldn’t want to be the one in charge of his schedule (and rescheduling), she did respect him.
“Very well. I’ll be back shortly.” She says, turning and heading towards the door. She grabs the handle before pausing, and turning back. “If you have a spare moment, Mr. Drake has acquired a new set of glitter gel pens.” She says, trying not to snort at the pained expression that crosses Mr. Wayne’s face. Walking out to grab lunch, Marinette can’t help but think about the guy in Mr. Wayne’s office.
---
Marinette huffs, struggling to juggle the bag and coffees as she heads out of the elevator. While she hadn’t grabbed any lunch for herself (she brought something from home), she had gotten coffee. Which, now that she was trying-and failing- to open the door to Tim’s office, was probably not a good idea. Before she can curse her luck anymore, an arm reaches around her and opens the door. Marinette spins, placing her back against the now partly open door. Her eyes widen as she sees the man who had been in Mr. Wayne’s office earlier.
“You looked like you could use a hand.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. Marinette feels the heat rush to her cheeks, and she curses her inability to keep herself from blushing. That was one thing she’d never been able to figure out. No matter how many times she looked up ‘solutions’ on the internet.
“Oh, um, yes, thank you. Mr…”
“I’m Jason. Just Jason.” He says with a tiny grin. Marinette opens her mouth to say something else, but the door (that she was leaning up against) moves suddenly, and she stumbles for a second until she’s able to keep herself from falling. Marinette turns to look, trying not to huff when she realizes who almost caused her to fall.
“Uh, what’s going on?” Tim asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks between her and Jason. Marinette narrows her eyes.
“Jason was trying to help me bring your lunch in, Mr. Drake. The lunch that you almost knocked to the floor.” She says. Tim scoffs.
“Why would you blame that on me? How was I supposed to know that you were just waiting on the door?” He asks with a pout. Marinette raises an eyebrow.
“You know these doors are glass, right? It’s important to me that you know that.” She says, unable to suppress her smile when Jason snorts behind her. Tim splutters for a minute, but she just passes his coffee to him. He pouts, but accepts it and takes a big drink. “Now, take your lunch and take a break.” She says.
“But-”
“No buts. I even have Mr. Wayne on my side this time. Take a break and eat your lunch. The work will still be there when you’re done.” Marinette says. Tim sighs, and sends a glare Jason’s way, before turning and heading back into his office. Marinette turns to Jason, suddenly feeling shy.
“Well, I guess I should let you get back to work Miss…”
“Marinette. Uh, my name’s Marinette.” She says, and he smiles, softly.
“Well, Marinette, maybe we’ll meet again some time.” Jason says. She nods, smiling back at him.
“That would be nice.” She says, and he gives her one last nod before turning and heading towards the elevator. Marinette does her best to not giggle like a teenager when he turns back and waves at her as the elevator doors close around him.
“So. You and my brother?” Tim asks, popping out of nowhere. Marinette jumps slightly, before turning and raising an eyebrow at him.
“You can’t possibly be done with your lunch.” She says flatly. He shrugs.
“This was more interesting.” He says. Marinette doesn’t roll her eyes, and honestly, she should probably get an award for that.
“Mmhmm. Go eat before I have to sick Mr. Wayne on you. I need to go reschedule your meeting with Mr. Luthor.” Marinette says, gently pushing past him to head to her desk.
“Wait, what? Why? Wait, since when did we have a meeting even scheduled?”
“Since my second day here. I keep rescheduling it, and for some reason, he hasn’t caught the hint yet.”
----
Marinette glances over at the clock, shoulders slumping as she realizes she’ll be able to go home and do some designs. She was still regularly updating her website, despite not moving to New York. And she was almost certain that her Gotham designs were better than her New York designs would have been. There was just something about Gotham that drew her in. As she turns to put her stuff in her bag, the door to the office opens. She assumes it’s just Mr. Wayne coming in to force Tim to leave and get some rest, so she doesn’t look up.
“Okay, why are you back here?” Tim asks, and Marinette immediately snaps her attention to the door frame, eyes widening slightly at Jason standing there with an awkward look on his face.
“B asked if I could pick you up. He left early.” Jason tells Tim, before glancing at her and giving her a small smile. Marinette feels the red rush to her cheeks.
“Bruce left early?” Tim asks, the disbelief clear in his voice. Jason nods.
“Yup, sure did. So let's go Timbit. Wouldn’t want you to overwork yourself.” He says. Marinette bites back a laugh at the way Tim splutters, stands and adjusts her bag on her shoulder.
“Well, Mr. Drake I will see you tomorrow. Nice to see you again, Jason.” She adds, starting to walk out.
“Marinette doesn’t drive!” Tim blurts out just as she makes it to the door. She pauses and turns around, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes. And?” She says. Tim shrugs.
“I dunno. Just that Jason is here with a car and you usually take the bus. Just saying.” He says, and Marinette’s eyes widen. What a little shit. She turns to Jason to try to insist that he doesn’t have to drive her home or anything, but he’s already smiling at her hopefully and oh god. Oh wow. She was definitely crushing on her boss’ brother. Shit.
“I wouldn’t mind driving you home. As long as you don’t have any other plans?” Jason says, obviously giving her an out. Before she can take the out, because oh god the implications of crushing on her boss’ brother had just hit her full force in the face and she couldn’t handle that, Tim speaks up. Again
“She never has plans.” He says, and Marinette whirls around to glare at him. He raises an eyebrow and she narrows her eyes at him.
“Are you trying to get me to reschedule the meeting with Luthor to a time that you will actually be available to go, Mr. Drake?” She asks, and he scoffs.
“Like you’d do that. You hate the guy too much to let him have a meeting with me or Bruce.” He says, and Marinette’s eye twitches before she turns to Jason.
“Your brother is extremely annoying.” She says flatly. He snorts, and nods.
“Oh yeah, definitely.” He says, then his face softens a bit. “So, that ride?” Marinette sighs.
“Are you sure it wouldn’t be a problem?” She asks. He shakes his head.
“Course not. I could even ditch Timbo here until after I drop you off.” He offers, and Marinette glances at Tim’s face, immediately laughing at the betrayed look on the kid’s face.
“Marinette, I’ll stop using the glitter pens, I promise. Don’t make me call Alfred to pick me up! He’ll interrogate me about why Jason left me and then I’ll get lectured and I can’t do that tonight.” Tim pleads.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Drake.” She says, and the kid’s shoulders relax.
“I’ve just got to grab my phone. I’ll be right back.” He says, heading back into his office. Marinette steals a glance at Jason, yelling at the butterflies in her stomach to knock it off. She had no reason to be so giddy over a simple smile from the man. And yet.
“Would it be completely inappropriate for me to give you my number?” Jason asks, running a hand through the white streak in his hair. Marinette knows she should say yes. Should tell him not to give her his number. What would happen if they went on a date and it went badly? She’d have to see Tim and Mr. Wayne everyday still. And she may even see Jason if he comes in for a meeting with Mr. Wayne or if he has to pick up Tim. But even worse, what if the date went great? What if he was everything he seemed to be and they hit it off and everything was perfect for a few months, but then they break up? And what would happen if the break up was really messy and it made Tim and Mr. Wayne both hate her and fire her and kick her out of Gotham? She liked Gotham. Way more than she’d ever anticipated. She didn’t want to risk having to leave the place that she’d learned to love. So she should say yes. She should lie and say that she didn’t want his number, and that she thought they should just never talk to one another ever again. That’s what she should do. But staring at his eyes, the intoxicating swirl of blue and green staring back down at her…and the splattering of freckles across his nose? She should be strong and say that she couldn’t take it. Instead, she says:
“I’d love your number.”