MariBat Central

Somehow, in perfect timing, Marinette always managed to accommodate the times when he was injured. Bruce didn't know if he was getting bad at hiding it because of his old age or if the girl's intuition was just crazy sharp. Maybe it was both. He cleared his throat. "Thank you, Marinette. I appreciate it." 

She opened up the first folder in front of him and transferred the mug to an electric warmer. "Another skiing accident?" 

"Not as bad this time. Just a twisted ankle." 

Next, she lowered the blinds just to allow just a peek of the sunlight and prepared a snack tray on a circular table beside his desk. Bruce never communicated the particulars about his preferences and he wasn't actually picky about his office space (unlike his son-slash-co-CEO). But this PA of his, just somehow knows. Like Alfred-levels of expertise. It creeped him out a little if he were to be honest. 

She clasped her hands behind her back. "Anything else, Mr. Wayne?" 

"None at the moment, thank you." 

She raised an eyebrow. 

. . . Which drew out a sigh from him. "Fine. Can you maybe help limit Tim's caffeine intake today? He had too many cups last night and he didn't listen when I told him to take the time off today." 

"Of course, I'll do that right away." She nodded in satisfaction. 

When she left, Bruce pulled up a tab on his computer to search for the legal documents, wondering if there was etiquette about an employer legally adopting their employee. 

***

Marinette entered the office of Tim Drake after receiving a greeting from Tam at her desk beside the door. The young PA kept her hands behind her back as she approached the boy who was glued to his computer screen. Upon closer look, she could see the heaviness under his eyes, accentuated by the dark circles on his pale skin. 

"I looked into your request of acquiring a commission piece from M.D.C.," Marinette told him. 

There was only a slight shift in his exhausted expression—a downturn of the mouth—before his scratchy voice replied. "I thought they don't accept commissions anymore." 

"Yes, but I re-visited our correspondence and apparently they still make pieces for selected clients." She took a deep breath. "And I got you an in." 

The clicking of the mouse suddenly paused, followed by the widening of Tim's red-rimmed eyes. He practically crawled out of his seat to kneel before Marinette to take her hand in his. "Please marry me." 

Marinette gently pulled away. "Sorry, Mr. Drake, my contract with Mr. Wayne prohibits me from marrying or getting into a relationship with any of his children." 

"Why?!" Tim cried out.

"Perhaps he precisely predicted this kind of situation." She smiled apologetically. "And by my guess, I think he wants to adopt me first and not marry into the Wayne family." 

Not that she actually wanted to be the newest addition to her boss' family. 

With a pout, Tim retreated back to his chair while muttering about Bruce's adoption addiction. But in a second, he brightened up once more as he seemingly remembered the new opportunity he gained with M.D.C. "I have to compile my requests for the clothes!" He furiously tapped at his keyboard.

Marinette's heart went out for Tam. It looked like Tim wasn't getting proper work done that day again. 

"I will forward the list to M.D.C. as soon as it's ready," she assured. 

And while the co-CEO was immersed in researching designs in his half-conscious state, Marinette brought out the mug from behind her back and exchanged the coffee on his desk with decaf: a custom brew which was guaranteed to help him sleep for the afternoon. 

In triumph, she exchanged thumbs-ups with Tam through the glass window of the office. 

***

Marinette kept a watchful eye on Bruce's office to keep anyone from entering and disturbing the boss. But when she peeked into the room to deliver more files to him, she saw Bruce facing the open window and talking softly with Superman himself, who was at the other side of the glass. 

Fortunately, neither of them seemed to notice her. She closed the door slowly and leaned her back against it, wondering if she should be guarding the door with her life. At the strike of bad luck, one of the company executives was heading straight towards the direction of the office. 

He shot her a look as she blocked the way. Head to toe. "Mr. White," she greeted slowly.

"I have some papers Mr. Wayne must sign urgently." He narrowed his eyes. 

"Sorry." She forced out a smile. "Mr. Wayne is a little . . . preoccupied at the moment. Why don't I take those papers off your hands and I'll have him sign them later?" 

The executive clutched the stack tightly as if it were some precious treasure. "No, I need to have them signed now. If you can let me in, I'm sure Mr. Wayne won't mind a short interruption." 

He stepped to the side but she moved in his way just as swiftly. Marinette sighed inwardly. This is beyond my paycheck. And judging by how White went here on his own, it must be some fund-farming project proposal Mr. Wayne would never agree to. 

"Get out of my way!" He cried out. "Who do you think you are?!" 

"I apologize, but Mr. Wayne is meeting an important guest. Under no circumstances must he be disturbed," she told him firmly. "I'm certain the papers can wait. He's not going anywhere." 

"Listen here," Mr. White spat out. "I have more authority over you. You will do as I say right now!" 

"Mr. White—"

"I will tell Mr. Wayne how incompetent you are! Rude to company executives! How dare you speak to me like this?!" Marinette stared with disinterest as his neck turned red and his forehead threatened to pop a vessel. 

"What is going on here?" 

Marinette felt the door open behind her to reveal Bruce, looking at White with clear exasperation. What she didn't expect was a bespectacled man emerging from behind her boss clad in business clothes. 

"Mr. Wayne!" The executive squeaked. "I need you to sign these—"

"Did you not hear my PA?" Bruce punished him with a cold look. "I was receiving a guest. And you had the nerve to cause a commotion right outside my office." 

"But—" 

"Leave. Now." 

Mr. White scurried away, tail between his legs, as other passing employees whispered to each other. Marinette stepped aside to give way to the two men. 

Bruce cleared his throat. "Thank you for your time, Clark. I'll get back to you soon." 

Superman—Clark—responded with a nod and a gentle smile before excusing himself out of the area. Marinette watched his back whilst he left. If anyone looked more attentively, they'd notice that the button-up and slacks Clark was wearing was too tight for his size, pointing to the fact that they were Bruce's and not his. 

"Marinette, if you can keep quiet about . . ." Bruce trailed off, face twisting as he tried to pick his words carefully. She, of course, would know that no guest had entered his office despite Clark Kent exiting it only a few moments ago. 

"Don't worry, Mr. Wayne. I won't tell anyone about your affair with Mr. Kent," she promised before walking back to her desk. 

“Everyone is going to be more casual than this,” she insisted as she stared at the doors in a familiar wide-eyed panic.  “Oh, this is a disaster!  Everyone is going to think I’m strange and not want to talk to me and then they’re going to avoid me for the rest of our time here and I’m going to spend my entire time alone and ostracized.”

Adrien turned to her with a flat look that he was positive would have had an effect if it hadn’t been softened by the warm look in his eye… and if she had been paying him any attention.  Unfortunately, she was too far down in her anxiety spiral to take notice of him or reality, really.

He’d learned long ago, when she was in this state, the only way to get her attention was to ground her through touch, which fortunately was how he liked to communicate as well, he would just need to make sure to ground her periodically throughout the night.  A hug or arm slung over the shoulders here, a forearm squeeze and hip check there and everything should be good.

He grabbed her shoulders gently and forced her to stop walking and turn to meet his eyes with a soft smile but firm voice.  “First of all, no.  Second of all, everyone is going to be so impressed with how good you look, they’re going to want to be your friend.  Third of all, nobody can avoid liking you.  Many have tried,” he smirked, the tension in his shoulders easing at the emerging ghost of a smile on her lips.  He would have mussed up her hair if he wasn’t absolutely positive she would have ripped his heart out with her bare hands for even attempting it.

“Fourth of all, if everything you said was to somehow actually happen, which it won’t,” he added in hastily before she could interrupt, “you’d still have all of us.  Felix and I live with you, Ash practically lives with us, Kagami is at our place constantly, and Felix seems pretty insistent on doing everything in the common area for someone who insists he doesn’t actually care about us.

“So, you couldn’t get away from us if you wanted to,” he assured her firmly.  He pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her like a weighted blanket until he felt all the tension ease from her body, only then pulling away to kiss her temple.  “Now, we can go home, if you want to, or… we can be brave and face it… together.  And together, we can do anything.”

Marinette snorted at his dramatic delivery, but grinned back at him, giving him a determined nod.  “Together.  We can do this.  We’re going to have an amazing time and meet new, incredible friends.”

He grinned and clapped her arms.  “That’s the spirit.  Now let’s go make new friends, and maybe something more for you.”  He waggled his eyebrows at her with a smirk before unceremoniously shoving her toward the doors.

Marinette squawked as she fought to keep her balance, throwing a dirty look at him over her shoulder as she entered under the welcome sign.  She ignored his presence behind her in favor of scanning the room to assess the scene.  The tables were set up around the periphery of the room, but almost nobody was seated at them.  Instead, they all seemed to be congregating in small standing groups near the dancefloor, dancing on the dancefloor, or grabbing snacks at the small dessert table.

The music was almost drowned out with the sound of conversation and laughter.  Everywhere she looked, people were smiling, not a frown, scowl, glower, or sneer in sight.  The jovial atmosphere drained away the last of her anxiety.  The smile spreading across her lips was Adrien’s only warning before she yanked him toward a friendly looking group of students to their right.

They slowly made their way through several different groups, each more friendly than the last and everyone… well, some of the girls and one or two of the boys, were, in fact, impressed with her dress, and told her as much.  After an hour or so, she couldn’t be sure how long it had been, having long since lost track of time, she had completely forgotten why she had been anxious in the first place and now felt chagrinned by her initial fear, not that she was willing to admit that to Adrien.  She had absolutely no doubt he was already well aware and would rub her face in it enough at a later date.  Acknowledging it to him would only bring that ‘later date’ sooner.

Toward the end of the night, she finally gave into her curiosity and excused herself to check out the desserts, not that she wanted to compare them to her parents’ she just… did, and get glasses of punch for her and Adrien, who had been quite vocal about how desperately he needed a drink or he wasn’t sure he’d be able to survive the night and since Ash was already sick and could barely talk, he had to make sure he could.

She shook her head as she made her way over, reevaluating her friendship with the drama king the entire way.  Luckily, she now got to share the burden with Ash and Felix, well, mainly Felix, but really it was just a matter of time before Ash moved in with them, though she wasn’t sure if that would make it easier to deal with him because there’d be another person helping distract him, or worse because he’d be acting up for her.

She was so caught up in her thoughts she didn’t notice the man standing in front of the punch bowl already, only looking up when she was just a step away, too close to divert without bumping into him and… oh god!  She realized too late to stop it, who was also holding a glass of punch that she was definitely going to spill onto both of them.

She tried to move to the side to mitigate the damage and brace for the impact, but it never came.  In the blink of an eye, he’d managed to set the glass down and turn back to her, his arms cradling hers to keep her from falling.  She blinked up at him, her eyes owlishly wide and her mind racing to make sense of what had just happened, but it was having a hard time once she met his brilliant blue eyes.  The combination of his kind eyes, sweet smile, and strong arms holding her was messing with her head, making cohesive thought impossible.  The only thought that managed to make itself known was that he looked really nice, personality and physically.

It took longer than she would care to admit, to realize she hadn’t moved from his embrace, but had continued to stare captivated into his eyes.  She blinked a few times and hummed lightly before stepping back, a bright blush on her cheeks.  “I’m so sorry!  Thank you for saving me.  It’s a terrible introduction.  I’m so clumsy.  I’m so glad I didn’t spill your punch on you.  I was positive I was going to.”

He grinned at her, only then pulling his arms back from their position hovering around her to ensure she was stable.  “Nope.  Guess we got lucky.  No spills.  It would be a tragedy to ruin that dress of yours.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, her blush turning from a rosy dusting to a full-blown fuchsia.  She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down shyly as she busied herself with pouring a glass of punch, desperate for an excuse to look away while she willed her cheeks to cool down, a mission that would be helped significantly if his dark hair didn’t have those adorable curls falling across his forehead, almost long enough to fall into his eyes, and if his lanky appearance wasn’t belied by the concealed strength she could detect beneath his fitted shirt.

“Hi, I’m Jon.  American… uh, obviously,” he held his hand out to her, his eyes glinting brightly and his smile sweet and charming.

Marinette offered a small smile as she set down the drink to shake his hand.  “I little obvious, yeah.  But only after you started speaking…”  She turned away from him pretending filling her second glass was her greatest priority and not mentally chastising herself for her ridiculously awkward observation.  There was no reason to say that.  What did that even mean?  Of course it was after he spoke.  What else would it be?

It wasn’t until she noticed him moving to refill his glass that she remembered she hadn’t introduced herself.  She internally groaned and added to the list of things to chastise herself over while drifting off to sleep every night for the next few years.  “Bonjour.  Marinette.  French… also obviously.”

Jon chuckled, holding onto his glass with both hands, like he was nervous or unsure what to do with his hands, but he never lost his boyish smile.  “It’s nice to meet you, Marinette.”

“Enchanté,” she bobbed her head in introduction, her smile broadening at his bashful energy.

“Enchanté,” he repeated in a perfect French accent.

Her eyes lit up with a new-found interest.  “Vous parlez français?”

His bottom lip pulled down in a wince as his eyes dropped to his glass.  “A bit.  I’m learning.  I can’t… I’m not fluent.”

He sounded so apologetic, she couldn’t stop the chuckle that slipped out.  “Well, you sounded convincing,” she assured him, her voice kind but quiet.  His wince transformed into a brilliant smile at the compliment, causing her smile to widen as well.  After a moment, she blinked and took another sip while her mind raced for something to say, not willing to let the conversation drop so quickly.  She’d been talking almost nonstop all night long and yet now she couldn’t find anything to say?  “Are you enjoying the event?” she finally asked.

“I am, yeah.  I haven’t really met anyone other than my roommate so far in London, but I love meeting new people.  I’ve already met a lot of new people tonight.  You?”  She giggled at his wild gestures as he spoke, almost like he had forgotten he was holding the glass at all.  It was by sheer broken physics that the liquid stayed in the glass instead of ending up on both of them and the floor, table, all the other glasses, and some of the food.

“Yeah.  I’ve gotten to meet a lot of people tonight that I think I really like too, but to be honest, I was terrified at first,” she admitted, leaning closer to him and lowering her voice like she was divulging a deep, dark secret.

He cocked his head to the side and watched her with eyes only for her, waiting for her to enlighten him.  “Of what?”

She leaned back again and looked away shyly.  “I don’t know,” she lied.  Well, not an entire lie.  She knew some of her fears, but she didn’t know why she was afraid of it, she just was.  The idea of new people who she didn’t understand and couldn’t predict was terrifying.  It was almost never as bad as she anticipated, but it was like her brain never registered that little factoid when dolling out dopamine or serotonin.

“I can’t imagine anyone not liking you,” he offered so softly, she couldn’t stop herself from believing he meant it.

Marinette smiled and ducked her head to hide what she was positive must be a furious blush, taking another sip to hide the real reason.  “Adrien said the same thing as we were walking in tonight,” she admitted after a moment.

Jon’s face dropped momentarily but he recovered it quickly before she looked back up to meet his eyes.  “Well, he wasn’t wrong,” he smiled.

She snorted and waved him off.  “He usually isn’t, but don’t tell him that.  He doesn’t need the ego boost.”

She glanced back at the group of students she’d been in earlier, observing Adrien mid-story.  She could tell it was mid-story by the smirk he wore and the particular glint in his eyes.  That combination was unique to his telling a story that could be embarrassing, usually to her, if he divulged the entire story, and he knew she knew that’s what it meant.  She shook her head and smiled at him.  He couldn’t stop himself from acting like a cat even when she wasn’t watching.  “He was right.  I haven’t stopped smiling and talking since I got here.  I was just getting a drink for us.”

“Oh, right,” he nodded, his smile becoming a bit more forced as he eyed the second glass of punch.  “I’m sorry to take you from your date... well not sorry,” he admitted sheepishly as his hand found its way to the back of his neck, “but... I’m really glad I got to meet you.”

Her eyes snapped to his instantly at his admission.  “He's not my date...” she clarified quickly and a bit louder than she meant to.  She shifted awkwardly and took a breath before continuing at a more normal volume.  “I mean, he is, but not like date date.  It's platonic.”

Jon looked at the group of students she’d looked at earlier and back to her uncertainly, because they had been awfully touchy with one another throughout the night for a platonic relationship.  And that last look was awfully… familiar.  Not that he’d been watching her all night, at least not intentionally, but he’d found his eyes drifting back to her frequently.  Frequently enough that he was almost positive her friend had caught him several times.  “Does he know that?”

She smiled and added thoughtful to the list of his green flags.  “He does.  And so does his significant other.  They were supposed to be here, but they got sick.  I was supposed to be a third wheel.  Adrien and I are like siblings.  We went through a lot together in Paris.”

His smile returned in full force as the tension completely eased out of his shoulders.  He cocked his head to the side, his eyes sliding to the music stand and back to her, his smile softening with the movement.  “So, he wouldn't mind if we danced?”

Marinette smiled and brushed her bangs, not out of her eyes because they weren’t in her eyes, more she angled them toward her ear out of the need to do something with her hands.  His eyes followed her movement, but returned his eyes to hers so quickly she almost thought she’d imagined it.  “He would not,” she confirmed.

“Would you?” he asked slightly bolder this time.  He stepped around the table until he was standing just a few feet in front of her.

Marinette’s smile broadened as she grinned up at him, rocking slightly, shifting her weight from foot to foot, unable to control her sudden burst of energy any other way.  “I would not either.  In fact, I’d really like it.”

“Me too.”  Jon’s smile matched her own, shy but strong, as he held his hand out for her to guide her to the dance floor.  He wound through the couples until he found an open area, which led to a new issue… where to put his hands, which he fully realized was absolutely ridiculous.  This was hardly his first-time dancing with someone he liked.  He knew where to put his hands, but that didn’t stop his mind from screaming at him not to put his hands too low, that’s creepy, or too high, that’s strange, or too far toward her sides, they aren’t in middle school, or too far to the center, that would force her too close to him, which would be too forward for a first dance.  Or do French women expect men to be more forward?  Oh God, did that thought make him prejudiced?

His internal screeching battle royale was brought to an abrupt stop when she placed her hands gently on his shoulders and met his gaze with a sweet but nervous smile.  He felt the tension that had started building in his muscles immediately start easing and a content smile turned his lips up.  Instead of overthinking, he let his body act.  There was a bit more space between them than the other dancers, but it felt right for the moment.

They swayed together for a few moments, gazing into each other’s eyes with their shy smiles seemingly permanently fixed before Marinette spoke up.  “So, what are you studying?”

“Journalism,” he bubbled, his excitement for his chosen study bursting through.

“Oh,” she perked up, her eyes somehow becoming even brighter and moving a bit closer in her excitement, “my best friend is studying journalism.  How do you like it?”

“So far, I mean we haven’t started classes yet, but so far, it’s great,” he shrugged.  Marinette immediately cringed and barely stopped herself from turning around, running out the door, before dropping out of school entirely and starting over somewhere else so she would never have to face him again.  “I think that’s more the new environment and just, you know, college though.  Oh, no, wait, I’m supposed to say uni, aren’t I,” he chuckled and brought his hand from her waist to run it nervously through his hair.  He placed his hand back to her waist, unintentionally bringing it closer to the center of her back.  “What about you?  What are you studying?”

Her eyes slid to the side and braced herself.  “Communication design.  It’s studying how design can be used to communicate with the viewer,” she added quickly, used to the question by now.

Instead of the wrinkled nose and questioning look she was expecting, his smile widened.  “Oh! Maybe we’ll have classes together!”

“That would be great!” she grinned.  They swayed for a few more beats before she spoke up again.  “Where in America are you from?”

“Metropolis,” he answered quickly, hoping the reluctance he felt admitting that connection didn’t come through in his tone.  His eyes snapped to hers at the loud gasp she let out.  He’d already accidentally exposed his super speed to her just minutes before and now, combined with knowing he was from Metropolis, Superman and Superboy’s hometown… well, it wasn’t a large leap to his identity, was it?

“And you came here to study?” she demanded incredulously.  “They have a great paper there.  My friend wants to work there.  It’s why she went to America to study journalism instead of staying in Paris or coming here.  She wants to get an internship with Lois Lane.  If you ever meet her, my best friend that is, she'll ask you a thousand questions.”

“Oh?” he asked breathlessly, completely unsure how to react to that; relief she didn’t guess his identity or mortification of her knowing who his mom was.  His body decided on both in quick succession with a bit of self-doubt added in.  Should he tell her?  Did he want to expose that part of his life to someone he had just met?  Did he want to change the trajectory of their conversation?  He would almost believe she was fishing, a subtle hint that she knew who he was, but nothing about her physiology indicated she was anything but completely earnest.  One thing was definite, her friend had to knew who his dad was too then, at least his civilian identity.

“Yeah, she had a blog about Paris’ superheroes.  She was one of the go-to resources on them,” she answered, pride blaring from her tone, “she thinks Mme. Lane would be a perfect mentor with all her articles on the superhero in Metropolis but also other important things.”  She winced and looked back up apologetically.  “Sorry, I should probably know more than just ‘important things’.  Alya would be mortified by my ignorance.”

He blinked; her friend would lose her mind meeting his family, absolutely go apoplectic.  Luckily, Marinette didn’t seem as affected.  “Oh, well… she…” he stammered at a complete loss on how to continue the sentence.  He refused to lie about it, so instead, he diverted.  He looked up toward the speakers.  “It appears we’ve come to the end of the song,” he noted without loosening his grip on her.

Marinette hummed in agreement but didn’t step away while she considered whether she should return to Adrien.  She had promised to bring him a drink, and Jon may want to talk to other people, he had said he wanted to meet new people.  But he was still smiling down at her, his eyes glinting, and his grip hadn’t eased at all.  It all made her feel warm and bold as the next song started.  “We have.  But you asked me to dance last time.  It would be rude not to return the favor.”

Jon grinned brightly and tightened his grip on her fractionally, just enough to convey his contentment with her suggestion.  “Well, it would be rude not to return the favor and accept and I was raised to be a gentleman.  My Grandma would have my hide if I was rude to a beautiful woman.  Definitely safest to keep dancing.”

Marinette flushed and looked down, almost burying her face in his chest.  She looked back up after a moment but didn’t move away so her cheeky smile was clearly on display.  “But it would be okay to be rude to an unattractive man?” she teased.

He barked out a laugh and returned to look down at her adoringly.  “No, no it would not.  I suppose it was just a way for me to compliment you,” he admitted.

She beamed at him.  “Glad to hear I’m dancing with a rather handsome gentleman.”

He preened at the description and stepped closer letting his arms wind further around her back, not quite pulling her against him but leaving less space between them than had been there when they started, a space that decreased as they danced through the song, and the next… and the next, until Marinette had relaxed in his embrace so much, she had essentially melded against him.  Even when she pulled back to look up at him, craning her neck to speak to or giggle at him, she did so without moving out of his embrace.

She hadn’t realized how comfortable they had gotten with each other, his arms overlapping themselves around her waist, one of her arms resting comfortably around his neck and the other resting against his chest, their eyes focused on each other’s, their faces close enough for their breath to intermingle, only becoming aware of how close they were when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

She blinked out of the little bubble they’d created and looked around to find the interruption, admittedly taking a bit longer than it should have for her to remember where she was.  It took meeting Adrien’s amused smirk before it registered.  “I just wanted to let you know my throat is so dry, I might not be able to speak tomorrow, you’re a terrible date, and I’m leaving.”

Marinette pulled away from Jon just enough to bury her head in her hands with a groan, but stayed close enough she could have hidden her face in his toned chest if she’d wanted to.  “I’m sorry.  I’ve completely ignored you.  I did get a glass ready for you… before I got distracted.”

Adrien snorted and waved her off.  “I’m fully capable of getting my own drink.  I am somewhat self-sufficient, thank you very much, no matter what you and Alya… and Kagami and Felix seem to think.  And I’m happy to be ignored if you’re happy.”  His last word came out questioningly as his eyes met hers with a pointed look.

She looked between Jon and Adrien a few times.  “Oh!  Right.  Sorry,” she realized sheepishly, and shot Jon a reassuring smile.  “Jon, this is Adrien.  Adrien, this is Jon.  He’s a journalism student from America.”

Adrien nodded at her confirmation and turned to shake Jon’s hand.  “Nice to meet you, Jon.”

“And you, Adrien,” Jon grinned back, glad for the confirmation that neither seemed jealous or upset by his proximity to Marinette.

Adrien looked over him critically for a few seconds before seeming to come to a conclusion.  “I’d love to interrogate you, but I’d like to get out and check on my significant other, make sure they have eaten something and are drinking water, which they tend to forget to do when they get sick.  Plus, they’re winding up here anyway,” he added motioning around them.

It was only then that Marinette and Jon looked around them and noticed the crowd had substantially thinned and some workers were starting to stack chairs.  Marinette’s smile dropped and she looked over to Jon sadly.  “Oh, I’ll…”

“I can walk her home,” Jon piped up quickly.  He looked between the two of them but took particular notice of the way Adrien’s eyes tightened and his jaw clenched in response.  He reached into his back pocket.  “Here,” he handed a card to Adrien, “my student ID… and my real ID.”  He held it up next to his face and schooled his face into the wide-eyed image in the picture from when they took the picture before the count of three.

Adrien snorted and handed the student ID back.  “That’ll do for tonight, I guess.  I’ll just have to interrogate you next time you’re with Marinette.”

Marinette blushed heavily at the insinuation.  He looked over to Jon as he extended his hand to Adrien and smirked at seeing his matching blush.  “I look forward to it,” his eyes darted to Marinette, “if she agrees when I ask.”

Marinette smiled and Adrien nodded in approval.  “We’re having a get together at our apartment Thursday.  You’re welcome to come.”

Marinette’s head snapped toward Adrien, eyebrows almost at her hairline.  “We are?”

He snorted and shrugged.  “I invited the people we were talking to after you abandoned me.”

She groaned and dropped her head into her hands again.  Jon smiled at their interaction.  It reminded him a bit of Stephanie and Tim, comfortable and teasing, like siblings.  “I’d love to,” he chirped.  Marinette peeked through her fingers and offered him a small smile.

Adrien smiled as he watched them.  “Right then.  I’ll be back later tonight.  See you when I get home.”

She watched Adrien leave and turned back to Jon.  “So… we should probably…” she motioned toward the door.

He blinked as if startled by the reminder, trying to pretend he was distracted by something other than having been staring at the way the spotlights were illuminating her hair.  “Oh, right.  Yeah.”  He smiled and motioned for her to move first.  “Did you have a coat or a bag or…”

She shook her head and followed Adrien’s path out the doors.  “Nope, I’m good to go.”

He raised an eyebrow but nodded as he grabbed his hoodie from the rack.  “Okay.”

It took less than a minute in the now crisp evening air for her to respond the way Jon was expecting, a shiver wracking her body, though he could tell she was trying to hide it.  He draped his hoodie that he hadn’t even bothered to put on, expecting this outcome, over her shoulders and grinned at the look of her swimming in his clothes.  It didn’t completely swallow her, but it was clearly a few sizes too big.

She jumped at the contact and started to remove the zip-up with an insistence that he keep it, but he held his hand up before she could and motioned toward his shirt.  “I insist.  I’m not cold.  The long sleeves are enough for me.”  He grinned devilishly.  “And my grandma would leave me limping if I let a gorgeous woman shiver while I was hot anyway.”

Marinette blushed but looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.  “Should I be concerned?  Your grandma sounds rather violent.”

He barked a laugh.  “I’ve made it sound like that, haven’t I?”  He tucked his hands in his pockets but swung back and forth as he walked making him look goofy and childlike, and extremely sweet.  “She’s not.  She’s one of the most supportive, sweet, down to earth, but no-nonsense women you’ll ever meet.”

She nodded and looked forward with a shy smile, pulling the hoodie tighter around herself and letting his smell engulf her.  “How are you liking London?” she asked as she looked up at him and swayed close enough their fingers brushed ever so slightly.

“I haven’t really seen very much of it,” he admitted sheepishly.  He ran his hand through his hair again, but quickly dropped his hand back down so it brushed hers again, even more firmly this time.  “So far it seems not too different from home.  I’m still trying to understand London’s vibe.  I’m positive there’s a ton I’m missing.  How about you?”

“It’s been fun,” she nodded.  “I’ve been here a few times, though.  I don’t know it like a native, but Adrien’s cousin, Felix, does.  Maybe I can ask him for advice, and I can let you know.”  She looked down but glanced up at him through her lashes.  “Or we can explore together,” she offered.  “I mean, I’d like to get to know the area better myself.”

“That sounds great!” he gushed.  “Oh, no wait.  What is it they say here?  That sounds brilliant?  Brill?”

Marinette giggled and shook her head.  “I’ve never in my life heard Felix say that but I suspect that’s more a Felix thing than an indication of British slang.”

“He sounds like an interesting fellow,” Jon chuckled.

“He… takes some getting used to,” she acknowledged slowly.  “He’s a bit prickly.  A bit standoffish…” she paused as she thought about how to describe Felix.  “A bit hostile,” she finished with a cringe, but she quickly turned it to a smile.  “But once you do get used to him, you’ll never find a more loyal friend… sometimes too loyal.”  She almost voiced her mental completion of ‘dangerously so’ but thought better of it.  “He’d try to overthrow a government if he thought you needed him to.  Probably succeed to,” she finished with a mutter.

Jon snorted.  “Yeah, I’ve got one of those too.”  He grimaced thinking of Damian meeting Marinette.  Honestly, it was impossible to tell if he’d embrace her, not literally of course, or try to kill her… literally.  “Honestly a bit scary what he could do if he put his mind to it.”

Marinette beamed up at him, but her eyes slid past him to the sky above and gasped.  The stars were shining bright enough she could make out a few even in the middle of London.  “Look, you can see a few stars!”

He hummed and scrunched his face, as if he needed that to assist seeing them and couldn’t see them perfectly with his enhanced vision.  “A few.  That’s something I miss from home… well, not home, but kind of home, my grandparent’s home; seeing the stars,” he rambled.  He shoved one of his hands back in his pocket, leaving the other to graze hers.  “At night you can see the entire Milky Way sometimes.  Millions of twinkling lights, absolutely gorgeous,” he sighed.

Marinette watched his dreamy expression for a few moments.  “I miss seeing stars like that,” she agreed.

He quirked his head to the side and looked back at her.  “You can see the stars in Paris?”

“Well… no,” she acknowledged.  “We don’t get to see the stars almost ever in Paris.  But I’ve gotten to see them closer and they were gorgeous,” she sighed, breathless at the memory of how beautiful the stars were between the fighting.

His face scrunched in earnest this time.  “Closer?”

Marinette’s eyes widened.  “Uhhhh translation issue,” she exclaimed quickly.  She shot him a strained smile.  “I never asked you, what brought you here?  It’s a long way from America.”

He eyed her suspiciously, but let it go.  “It’s one of the top schools for journalism,” he started slowly, still watching her closely, “and one of my mom’s colleagues, one she really respects, went here and would tell me about it for ages and…”  He sighed and looked down the street as they walked as he considered his next words, which was particularly difficult when he could feel her hand brushing against his so much it was like they were magnetized.  “I don’t know how much you know about Metropolis, where I live, but there is a lot of rogue activity.  I just… really wanted to get away from it, to have a normal college experience, a normal life experience, without fear of my school blowing up.”

Marinette chuckled mirthlessly.  “I get that.”

“How about you?” he asked, lightly bumping his upper arm into her shoulder.

“A bit of the same actually,” she acknowledged hesitantly.  “It’s a great school for design and, while I love Paris, it will always be my home… after our villain, there’s a lot of memories and a lot of aftermath, especially for Adrien.  I have family in London and so does he.  His cousin is going to a school just down the road, the London School of Economics?  So, he’s here and one of our best friends goes there as well so she’s just a metro stop away.  It seemed like a natural choice.  And it’s really easy for me to jump on the Eurostar and go home whenever I miss my parents or friends.”

“Yeah.  I’m close with my parents and friends too and I felt a bit bad leaving them but if they need me, it’s a quick flight home.”  He froze, his eyes darting to her and away quickly.  “I meant hop onto a plane and fly home.”  He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled anxiously.  “How else would I fly?”

Marinette laughed nervously and glanced at her dress pocket.  “How else indeed…”

“But I do miss my friends,” he added quickly.  “I call all the time, but it’s different when you’re not in the same room.”

Marinette hummed in agreement.  “Yeah, like I said before, my best friend is also getting a degree in journalism, but decided to go to America for it.”  She chuckled and lightly slapped his arm to pull his attention back to her.  “It’s almost like you guys switched places,” she teased.  Jon grinned.  “And her boyfriend, Adrien’s best friend, is getting his degree at a film school there too, so even when we go home to visit, we still won’t get to see them.”  She sighed wistfully, a far-off look in her eyes.  “We used to basically live in each other’s houses.”

Jon nodded solemnly.  “The price of independence and a new start.” They walked for a few more steps as the weight of his words set in.  He suddenly bounced in front of her and started walking backward with a bright grin.  “But!” he motioned toward the Millenium Bridge in the background, “how else would I get to see things like that.  And I wouldn’t have met you tonight.  And that would be a shame.”

Marinette giggled.  “Tragic.”  She bit her lip in a vain attempt to keep her smile from beaming too wide as she moved her hand so he could grip it completely.  Her heart was thundering in her chest as she waited for him to respond, only slowing slightly when he finally interlaced their fingers and shot her a radiant smile.  No, nope.  She was pretty sure it was racing even faster after he took her hand.

“Exactly,” he agreed.  He turned back around to match her pace by her side again, this time, gripping her hand tightly in his, as they walked in companiable silence for a few blocks, throwing shy glances at one another.  “Penny for your thoughts?” he offered.  “Oh shoot, no, I guess it’s shilling for your thought or something.”

She smiled but looked away shyly tilting slightly away from him as she figured out how to verbalize her jumbled thoughts.  Her mind was racing, but not in the usual, overwhelming, anxious way.  She might not be able to pin them all down, but she could feel they all pointed to one conclusion.  “I’m thinking… I’m glad I took a chance.  I’m glad I faced my fears and went tonight.  I’m glad I decided to get a drink by myself.  I’m glad I said yes when you asked me to dance.  I’m…”

“I’m glad you let me walk you home tonight,” he added.

She turned her bright smile to him as she stopped and faced him.  “Yeah, that too,” she agreed.  They gazed into each other’s faces smiles so wide they surely outshone the stars.  “This is me,” she finally announced.

He looked up at the building and back to her with a nod.  “Oh.  Well, that… You were right.  That really was close.”

She hummed and rocked on her heels, not ready to let go of him yet.  “How about you?”

“I’m really far, but I’m right on the metro, no wait, Underground, so it’s not bad.”  He looked up at the building and back to her, not easing his hold on her hand either.  “Can… would it be okay if I called you sometime maybe... maybe to explore London together?”

Marinette beamed and bounced in place.  “Yes!”  She cleared her throat lightly and tried again.  “Yeah.  That would be nice.”

He grinned brilliantly.  “Great.  That’s… that’s great.  Yeah.  Oh!”  He pulled out his phone and handed it to her.  She entered her number letting her fingers brush against his as she handed it back with a matching grin.  Even after having held her hand for the last half hour, the contact still sent a jolt of electricity through his body.  “Thanks.  I’ll call?”

She hummed in agreement.  “I’d like that.”

He started to walk away but Marinette called him back, running the last few steps to meet him.  She stood in front of him smiling for a moment before taking off his hoodie and handing it to him.

She looked up though her eyelashes, a look that he quickly discovered melted him to his core.  If she ever wanted anything, all she would have to do is look at him like that.  “Thanks for letting me use it.”

“Anytime.  Literally any time.  Just let me know.  I have a lot of very warm clothes and I can’t wear them all at the same time…” he stopped and grimaced slightly, cheeks glowing in embarrassment.  She grinned brightly and looked down shyly.

“I don’t want to wait until tomorrow to figure it out,” he burst out suddenly.  “Will you go on a date with me?  Tomorrow?  Noon?  We can do lunch at Fields and a walk in the park?  Maybe you can show me around a bit too, since you seem a bit more familiar with London than I am.”

Her smile got impossibly brighter.  “Yes.  Absolutely.  That sounds brilliant.”

“Great.  That’s...”  he darted forward to kiss her on the cheek.  “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” she nodded.

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Marinette glared down at her schedule. Her tray of cafeteria food lay untouched beside her – not because she was so focused that she was forgetting to eat, but because it was literally two types of cheese melted onto a slice of bread and she would rather die than eat that.

She felt someone plop down next to her and peer over her shoulder. Tim, undoubtedly, she didn’t need to look up to know that.

She rested her head on her hand, leaning forward in an attempt to cover up what she was doing. But she knew it was too late.

“Still not able to figure out how I fit seven extracurriculars in a week?” Tim said. He sounded soft and sweet and so condescending.

She was going to punch him in that stupid face of his. Or that frustratingly-not-stupid face of his. Whatever.

He had been bragging about it for a good week. And for good reason, it seemed. Marinette, try as she might, could only find combinations with up to five extracurriculars (excluding the student council, which would be voted on in just a month and a half).

She stilled the hand that was drumming her pen on the table. “Well, unfortunately, it looks like the pen biting class is all filled up.”

He rolled his eyes, but she noticed that when he spoke next he was careful not to move his mouth as much so she wouldn’t see his stained teeth: “Don’t worry. I could always tutor you. We can both get the certification that way.”

“Oh, how generous of you,” she said sarcastically.

He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a good guy.”

“Totally. And I’m the bad guy?” She said, grinning.

“Of course. At least every woman that’s a bad guy is super cool.”

“I want to be a Wanda Maximoff kinda bad guy.”

“You’ll have to watch your robot husband die… well, you’ll have to get a robot husband first.”

“Well, I was already going to join the robotics club.”

He snickered a little. “I don’t think the school will be all that happy with you if you use their resources to make a husband for yourself.”

“Depends on how good the AI is,” she argued. “If I manage to make an almost sentient AI with their equipment they’d get famous for being the ones to teach me, and they’d love that.”

He tipped his head to the side as if considering. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. “Wait… if you’re deciding on your clubs already… does that mean you’re letting me have more extracurriculars?”

She scowled, her face reddening. Sometimes he was nice enough that she could forget that he was the absolute worst. She pushed herself to her feet, stuffing her things in her bag. “God, you’re annoying. I’m going outside –.”

She stopped in her tracks.

Something hit her. Something so obvious that she felt stupid for not noticing it before.

“Oh my –! Outside! Duh. Stuff outside of school.”

His smile dropped, so she had to be right. She grinned victoriously.

“May the best person win, huh?”

He looked like he very much wanted it to be an unfair fight, but he nodded and pulled his blue-stained hand out of his pocket to shake hers.

With that, she turned on her heel to leave.

She got about five steps away before she stopped again to tell him:

“Vinegar and cornstarch.”

He frowned. “Sorry?”

“For your teeth. Vinegar and cornstarch should help with the ink.”

“Oh… thanks,” he said, his face flushing red. It did that a lot, she noticed. But, then again, his skin was so pale that sometimes even smiling could tint it pink.

She shrugged just slightly. “It’s whatever.”

She speedwalked away before he could notice that she had left the tray next to him. The lunch ladies walked around to make sure that you ate all of the food and wouldn’t let you leave until you did. No thanks.

(She felt a little bad when she heard he was sent home sick later that day. At least he could get the pen off sooner?)

~

They only had one class (homeroom science) and lunch together. It hadn’t been intentional on their part, in fact their actual list of classes was rather similar, it was just how it ended up working out.

However, they were both members of all five of each others’ clubs. Again, unintentional, but there was only one combination of clubs that allowed someone to have five in a week.

On Monday, they had photography club. Tim excelled in this one. His camera was many years old, his dad had passed it down to him for his tenth birthday, but he was very familiar with it and its abilities. He took high resolution pictures of the different flowers and buildings around campus, smiling widely.

(His smile only widened when he felt Marinette glaring at him behind her phone camera.

He grinned back at her, flipping his hair. “Be sure to get my good side.”

“Yeah, true, your face is pretty lopsided. Tilt your head the other way?”)

Tuesday was theater. Tim was also better at this, he was pretty sure, considering he was the only one of the two of them that was going to do any acting. Marinette had opted to stay in the background working as the head of tech. An important job, yes, but unlikely to be noticed as much.

(He cringed as the lights brightened while he was trying to memorize his lines, shielding his eyes with his free hand. “Hey, turn that down! You’re going to blind me!” He yelled in the general direction of the light and sound booth.

“GOOD,” her voice crackled over the intercom.)

…the week went downhill from there.

Wednesday was soccer. It wasn’t like Tim was bad at soccer, it was just that Marinette was much more active than he was. Her family owned a pretty popular bakery, it wasn’t hard to imagine that she had gained a lot of muscle helping out around the shop. Tim was sure that, had he had a more rigorous workout regimen growing up, he would have been about equal to her athletically. But he wasn’t.

(She smiled as she lapped him. “Don’t worry, Tim, not everyone is made for running around. You can always carry the water cooler.”

“Sure. Isn’t there a whole thing about pouring Gatorade over the person that shoots the winning goal?”)

Thursday was robotics. Despite the fact that she was joking – or, at least, he was pretty sure she was joking – when she said that she was going to make herself a robot husband one day, she was actually really good at programming. He didn’t have an excuse reason as to why he wasn’t as good at this one, the programming language that they used simply wasn’t clicking for him – unlike the keyboards, which seemed to click even when he wasn’t touching them.

(She smiled as she leaned over his shoulder to peer at his code. “You spelled this wrong,” she said, pointing.

He typed a five letter word that starts with B. “Is this better?”)

Friday was yearbook. No one was better than the other at yearbook. It was yearbook.

(“I’m nominating you for Class Clown. You’re certainly pale enough,” Marinette said absently, not even looking up from her computer.

“Sure, but only if I can nominate you for Most Likely To Be Late To Graduation.”

She pressed her lips together thinly, something he had learned to attribute to being her version of blushing. “I was late to class one time!”)

~

Marinette yawned. It was Saturday, which meant it was their first soccer game of the season.

She felt a large hand settle on top of her head and sent her father a tiny smile. She felt her mother squeeze her hand.

She had insisted that they needn’t come. They had a job, after all. The morning was the best time for eating baked goods, and therefore the best time for selling them. Especially on a Saturday. They were really giving up a lot to come to her game. But they insisted, and it was nice to have them around.

Marinette saw Tim. He was sitting alone by the cooler, absently kicking a soccer ball between his feet. He looked a little dumb in his uniform, with his too-long legs sticking out of his shorts and his shirt so big that he might as well have been wearing a trashbag. She snickered a little.

Sabine smiled. “Is that a friend?”

“No. He doesn’t like me all that much,” she said.

This statement was highlighted by the fact that the moment Tim looked up and saw her and her family his expression twisted from a bored frown into a bitter one.

“He’s competing with me for the Wayne scholarship.”

Tom frowned. “I still don’t get why you want it so badly. We can afford for you to attend college.”

“I know, but it’s always nice to save money, right?” She said, smiling.

Her parents couldn’t really disagree but she could tell that they didn’t necessarily believe her.

But that was a problem for another time. She rushed the last couple of steps to fill her water bottle and they left to go find seats.

He watched her parents for a moment before turning to look at her.

“A pink soccer ball? Really?” He asked, raising his eyebrows at the ball just barely peeking out of her duffel bag.

Marinette shrugged. “It’s a nice color. Besides, it’s still good enough to give you a bloody nose if you’re not careful.”

“You can’t hit me in the nose at this angle,” Tim said with a scoff.

She grinned at him around the cooler. “Wanna bet?”

~

Tim hummed as he started putting up posters. It was three hours before school started, so no one was around. His voice echoed around the halls in tandem with the sound of rustling papers and the Scotch Tape.

Someone came up beside him and started fishing through their bag for supplies only half an hour later and he wasn’t at all surprised to find that it was Marinette. He was, however, surprised to see the state she was in: her uniform was slightly mussed up, her shirt wrinkled and her tie loose around her neck.

Not a morning person, he thought, chuckling internally.

His amusement faded somewhat when she dropped her bag and her face crumpled as if the bag falling was some sort of metaphor for her life falling apart.

… she probably hadn’t slept. He was certainly always a mess when he pulled all-nighters.

Tim hesitated before offering her his thermos. “Here.”

She stared at it blankly for a moment. Then, her eyes narrowed just slightly. She looked up at him, distrust plain on her face.

“Is there drugs in this?”

He snickered, rolling his eyes. “Can’t beat you fair and square in science today if you’re half awake.”

Her lips pulled into a thin line and she looked away, taking a short sip of the coffee. “Thanks.”

He shrugged just slightly.

She put up a poster. It was nice, but clearly handmade – unlike Tim’s, which was made using Photoshop. Still, the choice of colors was pleasing to the eyes and her handwriting was rather nice. Tim’s eyes glazed over it…

And then snapped back to read it again.

“You’re going for secretary?!”

She rolled her eyes behind his thermos. “Congrats on learning to read.”

He huffed quietly and moved down a hallway to put one up above a water fountain with her. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“You can’t prove that I know anything,” she deadpanned.

Something hit him. He leaned closer with a teasing smile. “Are you scared you’d lose to me?”

“I know I’d lose,” she said bitterly.

He jumped just slightly. He hadn’t expected for her to agree. Dang, she must be really tired.

She didn’t look it, though, glowering at the picture of her face in the middle of the poster she was hanging up. She reached a hand up to adjust it slightly to try and straighten the picture despite the glue holding it firmly in place. “No one would vote for me unless I was the only option.”

He frowned. “That’s not true. You’d be a great president.”

“Oh, totally. Certainly better than you,” she said. She gave up on the picture and turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. “But actually getting to be president is a popularity contest, and I can’t win those.”

~

Marinette smiled as the robot navigated its way through the maze they had created.

“There’s no way it was that easy,” Tim said, staring at the very few lines of code.

She shrugged. The robot was simply making its way around roomba style and she kinda loved it. Maybe she would strap a knife to it. Not to intimidate the judges, no way, just for aesthetic reasons.

She picked up Tikki The Roomba Knockoff and flipped a switch to send her back into sleep mode.

“Sometimes, stupid problems need stupid answers,” she said wisely.

Tim huffed and dropped down on the chair so he could glare at his little tin man that currently moved nothing but its legs.

She hesitated before sitting down on the table in front of him, crossing her legs. She tapped his computer screen until she got to his work. “Alright, I’ll tutor you.”

He blushed faintly but nodded. “Please do.”

~

Tim and Marinette were sitting on the ground, petting a fluffy stray cat that had taken a liking to them.

“What should we call him?” Tim asked.

Marinette tipped her head to the side, looking down at the black cat with luminous green eyes. “Chaton.”

Tim smiled. “That sounds cool. What does it mean?”

“Kitty.”

His smile dropped as he groaned. “We aren’t naming a cat kitty.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Fine, what should we name him?”

“Uh… Plagg.”

“You just made a random sound!” She complained.

“It’s still better than kitty.”

“No it isn’t!”

The cat scampered off.

Marinette and Tim glared at each other, the ‘this is your fault’ written plainly on both of their faces.

~

Marinette was idly doodling flowers in her science notebook when the teacher said the dreaded sentence: “This project will be done in pairs.”

She groaned internally and dropped her head onto her desk to avoid the embarrassment of not being anyone’s first choice. At least this class was an even number so someone would have to pair up with her, she didn’t know how she would live if she was the last person picked.

“Based on last names,” Mrs. Plinthe added, surely trying to stop the mess that would be people getting left out in groups of three before it could happen.

Marinette relaxed just slightly.

… but then Marinette realized this was worse. Because, if it was by last name…

She heard someone drop into the chair next to her and rolled her eyes, lifting her head to look at Tim Drake.

“I guess this is one way to guarantee that neither of us can do better than the other,” Tim said, trying for an awkward smile.

“Unless I tell the teacher that you didn’t do your half of the work,” she said.

“... you wouldn’t do that.”

She raised her eyebrows at him just slightly.

He squinted at her face for a moment before shaking his head. “You wouldn’t. You like things being fair.”

She shrugged, which was kinda an agreement. He certainly seemed to take it as such, at least.

He turned his squint onto the board, where the instructions were written in pretty cursive. “Hm… want to do this at my house or yours?”

She looked up at it as well and sighed. “I don’t have a backyard, it’ll have to be your place.”

“... how do you not…?”

“I’m not poor,” she said quickly, because she could already see pity (Or was that guilt? Why?) creeping in. Her lips pressed into a thin line as her face warmed and she was so glad that she had enough melanin to hide the way her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “We just live above my family’s bakery.”

His mouth made a tiny ‘o’ shape. “Sure, then, when are you free?”

She looked at the day it was due. In one week… hm… she had a lot of shifts at the soup kitchen this week and she’d promised to help out around the bakery… not to mention the track meets… or the extracurriculars that she shared with Tim –.

Oh. Their extracurriculars!

“How about after our game on Saturday?”

He shrugged just slightly. “Sure, if you want.”

~

Tim and Marinette walked along the sidewalk. It was only a four mile walk to get home from the park where all of their soccer tournaments were held, this he knew, but it felt like it was taking years.

Marinette dribbled her soccer ball as they made their way towards his house.

“Y’know, I kinda assumed you had some kinda butler or something to drive you everywhere,” she said. “I would’ve asked my parents to drive us if I’d known.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a rich kid, too, y’know.”

“Yeah, but not nearly as rich as you guys. I mean, you’re neighbors with Bruce Wayne.”

“I would hardly call us ‘neighbors’,” he said, grinning. “There’s acres and acres of land between both of our houses.”

She shrugged. “Still technically the closest person to them, so.”

He chuckled. She wasn’t wrong.

He glanced her up and down absently. It was the first time he’d ever seen her in casual wear, and he had to admit she had him beat in that department. While he had opted for a dark red turtleneck and slacks, Marinette had chosen bright pink pants and a cute tee. She had the ‘casual’ part of ‘casual wear’ down in a way Tim definitely did not.

Admittedly, she was a little cute.

She looked over at him and smiled a little. “Hm?”

“Oh…” he said, his face warming. “I was just thinking that, if we don’t finish in time, you can stay at my house…”

Her eyebrows raised almost comically high.

“Not like that!” He said quickly, sure he was about to spontaneously combust, because wow that came out wrong. “I just meant that we have a lot of guest rooms and stuff so we can work on it in the morning instead of just staying up all night…”

“Would your parents be alright with that?” She asked, frowning.

“It’s not like they’d know.”

Her frown deepened. “I mean… yeah, your parents are out of the country on business, I know that… but won’t your nanny tell on you?”

He snorted. “I’m too old for a nanny.”

“... how long have you been staying alone?”

“I dunno, since I was, like, eight,” he said, feeling oddly defensive. She was looking at him with an odd expression and he didn’t like it.

She kicked the ball up higher this time to catch it, tucking it under her arm. She looked at the ground with a thoughtful expression and didn’t say anything else for a good while.

Then, hesitantly, she said: “I hear that Mrs. Plinthe does a lot of group projects. If we get paired up again, let's do it at my house, okay?”

He frowned himself, now. “Why?”

She pulled a grin to her face and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Because I don’t want to be in a stuffy, unused, rich person's house. That seems like it would suck.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re the worst.”

“No, you.”

“Wooooow, what a great retort.”

“I was just returning your energy. If you’re not going to put effort into an insult then why should I?”

“Excuse you. I worked real hard on that insult,” he said, giving her shoulder a nudge.

She scoffed and pushed him back. “Don’t shove me.”

“Don’t shove me when you tell me not to shove you!” He said, trying not to laugh. This was, of course, accompanied by another little bump.

She snickered. “Don’t shove me when you tell me not to shove you while I’m telling you not to shove me.” (You’ll never guess what action this was accented by.)

Tim was starting to lose track. “Don’t shove me when –.”

~

Marinette frowned as she looked at the millions of broken eggs at their feet. She was no stranger to broken eggs, it was a large part of baking, but this just felt wasteful.

“Hey, I’m beginning to think we might be stupid.”

Tim glared at the design they had drawn up. “Beginning to think? You thought we had hope before?”

Marinette snickered quietly. “Fair enough.”

She squinted at the three remaining cartons of eggs. “What if we use a boiled egg?”

“That’s cheating.”

“Or, we could call it… ‘thinking outside the box’... or, well, ‘thinking outside of the egg catcher’, I guess, since we’ve already tried boxes?”

He gave her an unimpressed look.

She huffed a little and checked the time. An hour until midnight. Her parents should be asleep by now, since bakers always wake up early to bake everything. She groaned and leaned back on her hands, glaring up at the clinical white ceilings above them.

“Think we should give up for the night?” Tim asked. “I’m kinda fried.”

Marinette sighed. “Yeah… speaking of fried… do you have anything to eat?”

“... I have ramen noodles.”

Her annoyance flared. Not at him, for once, but at his parents. He couldn’t even cook?! How could they just leave him home alone?!

She maintained a mostly calm expression. “Fine. Where’s your room? I’ll need at least a shirt to sleep in.”

He cringed. “Er… how about you cook and I find you something to wear?”

Her annoyance settled and she pulled a cheeky grin to her face. “Oh? Are you hiding something from me, Tim?”

“No!” He said quickly, which totally wasn’t suspicious at all. He seemed to realize this, too, because he cleared his throat and said: “I mean… no…”

“Real convincing, Tim,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But fine. I will not invade your privacy today.”

“I don’t like that you’re saying ‘today’...”

She pressed her lips together thinly. Whoops. Looks like he caught her.

He glared at her.

She ran off in the direction of the kitchen before he could make her promise anything about tomorrow.

~

Tim woke up to someone shaking his shoulder vigorously.

Marinette was cursing above him. “Why are you so hard to wake, Christ…”

She let go of him, thank God. He slowly peeked an eye open despite the fact that his lamp was trying to kill him and found that she was unscrewing a water bottle. Which was bad –.

… wait…

There was a girl.

In his room.

Tim screeched and pulled the comforter up to cover himself. He wasn’t naked or anything, he had no clue why this was his first instinct, but it was what happened.

She flinched at the sudden noise and now there was water all over the two of them which was great.

Tim sighed and wiped his face with his hand, both in an attempt to wake himself up and because he had gotten splashed with water.

“What is it that has you in my room at–” He looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand and the injustice swelling in his chest only grew. “– three in the morning?”

She smiled. “I thought of an answer to our problem.”

His exasperation disappeared. He sat up, beaming just as blindingly bright as his lamp. “Really?”

“Yeah!” She said. She grabbed his hand and started pulling him out of bed and out into the halls.

He laughed. “Okay, okay, relax,” he said even though he was struggling to relax himself. Call it sleep deprivation if you want to, but this felt big.

(And, not to mention, his house hadn’t been this lively in ages. Even if it was just the two of them, their heavy footfalls as they sprinted through the long hallways towards the back door and their laughter bouncing off of the cold marble walls made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.)

And, hey, it turns out that she had managed to solve it.

There was just one teensy little thing.

“... did you tear open one of the pillows from the guest room for padding?”

She pressed her lips together thinly. “Uh… so, big Dick Grayson fan, huh?”

His face burned. “I thought you said you weren’t going to invade my privacy!”

“I mean… technically I said that yesterday…”

~

Marinette stood in front of the student body, looking over the rows of people. They all blended together with their identical outfits, but it wasn’t like she was really looking for anyone in particular, anyways.

She leaned close to the mic.

“You should vote me for secretary because I’m literally your only option and there is no guarantee that anyone on the council will do anything productive at all if there’s not someone taking minutes for all the meetings. I’m better than nothing. Great, glad we had this talk, bye.”

She strode offstage calmly and came to a stop beside Tim. He was going to be second for the presidential candidates, after one of the Ballard kids, and she could see the sweat starting to roll down the side of his head.

“Good luck,” she told him, leaning forward to straighten his tie.

He blushed up to his ears. “I don’t need it.”

She hummed a little in acknowledgement of the idea, pinching his cheek just slightly before heading off to join the audience.

~

Somehow, Tim succeeded in getting elected as student body president. Call it luck or plot armor or whatever, but it was nice.

He grinned and leaned over Marinette’s chair, lazily resting his head on top of hers. “So, ready to do absolutely nothing for an hour a day every week?”

“God, yes,” she said, grinning. “I don’t even know why it’s a thing here. It’s not like we need funding for events and the teachers definitely won’t listen to anything a student says.”

Tim shrugged lazily. “Think it’s for morale.”

She hummed her understanding.

The treasurer, Bernard Dowd, glanced between the two of them. He hesitated, glancing at the Vice President that Tim had chosen (Ali Ben Khadir).

Bernard grinned. “Wait, seriously?”

“Don’t smile like that,” Ali said. “You’re the one with the most work, Mr. Treasurer. You have to make sure the school doesn’t spend more money than it wants to.”

“Dang it,” Bernard complained.

“At least you get to go to prom,” said Tim, shrugging.

Bernard lit up. “Awesome! Maybe Darla would –.”

Tim only half-listened as Bernard talked.

Marinette was smiling just slightly, nodding along and sometimes offering advice or commentary. She seemed genuinely thrilled.

Tim realized that this was the first time he’d seen her talking to someone other than him or a teacher.

It was nice.

He moved to sit beside her at his designated President seat, resting his head on his hand and quietly adding in that Bernard would look good in a red and white suit. Marinette and Ali immediately chided him, saying that he would look like either a cultist (Marinette) or a gang member (Ali). Bernard looked pleased.

~

Marinette smiled as she bounced the soccer ball on her head repeatedly. The coach had suggested that she work on her headbutts (she had the very natural instinct to dodge whenever things came flying at her face).

Tim grinned as he watched her. It was bold of him to be so cocky when he couldn’t even juggle the ball.

She sent him a glare. “What?” She asked.

“Just thinking about how much higher my grades are gonna be when you finish killing off all your brain cells.”

She scoffed and changed the angle she was bouncing it at. Tim wheezed when the ball hit him in the chest.

~

Tim smiled as he slowly turned his monitor to Marinette. “Here, I got done editing your photo for you.”

“Oh, tha –.”

She stopped short when she saw it. She sighed quietly.

“Tim.”

“Yeah?”

“Why does my face look so wide in this?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s how your face normally looks.”

“... racist.”

“Oh, shut up.” He flipped to the actual picture. “Fine, here it is.”

“It’s still too wide,” she said.

Tim frowned. “It’s… that’s your face,” he said.

“No, it’s not. Where is my real face?”

“This is it?”

“Liar –!”

“I’m not –!”

~

Marinette smiled brightly as she showed Tim the newest prop she had made for him to use.

“... why is this boomerang shaped like a bat?”

She huffed. “Because he’s Batman.”

“This is dumb.”

“You’re dumb.”

“Fight me.”

“I will! With this batarang!” She said, stealing the plastic cutout from him to brandish it ‘menacingly’.

He brought his cape up in a mockery of the character he was supposed to be playing. “I am vengeance. I am the night.”

Marinette snorted. She tapped his nose.

Tim did a stage fall backwards and spread out on the ground. “Oh dear! She’s defeated me!”

She grinned and turned on her heel and starting to exit stage left from their amazing performance. “Cool, guess this means I get to keep the prop car.”

Tim shot up, suddenly reanimated. “The car is done?! Let me see!”

She beamed, taking his hand and helping with the bulky fabric of his batsuit. “C’mon, then, you dumb bat.”

~

Tim looked around the tiny bakery.

The whole place smelled amazing. No wonder Marinette always smelled really good. So would he if he lived in this place.

A huge man turned around at the sound of the tiny bell on the door jingling and raised his eyebrows just slightly before lighting up with a smile. “Are you here for some food or for Marinette?”

Tim blushed. He didn’t truly know whether or not he wanted to blow his entire fortune on their food just yet, but he was leaning towards yes. He knew this was a bad idea, though, so he settled for asking him: “You know me?”

“Of course! You are the little boy who plays goalie.”

Tim resented the fact that he was being called little, even if he was pretty sure that everyone looked little to a man as gigantic as him.

A woman gave the man a smack on the arm. “Now, Tom, hush. You don’t want to scare off Marinette’s friend.” Suddenly, her eyes narrowed. “You are her friend, yes?”

Tim didn’t know why he was so much more scared of the woman that was less than an inch taller than him than the man who probably had to walk sideways to get through doorways and a neck as thick as Tim’s entire torso… but he very much was.

“Yes, ma’am!”

Sabine hopped over the counter and strode over with purpose and uh oh. He didn’t know how he messed up but he definitely did. She thrust a hand towards his face and he flinched back, holding his hands up – wow, his Taekwondo extracurricular was not coming through for him right now – and closed his eyes in preparation for a hit that he probably deserved but didn’t yet know why he was receiving it.

But no hit came.

He opened his eyes to find a cupcake in his face.

“Eat. You are thin,” she told him.

Tim stared at her from behind the cupcake, confused.

And then he smiled. “Thank you,” he said as he quickly took it from her. He started to go for his wallet but she was already leaving so apparently it was free. He didn’t know how he felt about that.

Luckily, he didn’t have much time to think about it.

Unluckily, this was because a hatch opened above him and he nearly got decapitated by a ladder.

Marinette sent him a smile that wasn’t nearly apologetic enough for attempting to murder him.

“Come up here, it’s a shortcut to my room.”

Oh dear god, he was going in her room?

He glanced back at her parents but they were calmly helping a customer. He hesitated, but headed up.

Marinette’s room nearly blinded him with how pink it was. It was definitely her favorite color. But it was nice; vibrant and alive in a way his house never was.

She didn’t wait long for him to get used to it, thrusting a pen in his face.

“Right, I’ll do all the drawing and formatting, you write. Your handwriting is better.”

He raised his eyebrows. “The writing on your student council posters was nice.”

“That was my mom’s handwriting.”

“Oh.”

~

Marinette didn’t know how to feel about her parents constantly bringing up snacks for Tim.

On one hand, he clearly loved the attention and affection that they were giving him. Brightening up just slightly every time they came with their newest creation.

On the other hand, it was kind of embarrassing. She fought the urge to scream into the giant stuffed cat she had slung herself across.

Sabine came up with a slice of cake for both of them. Tim looked like he was going to pop, leaning heavily against a chair, but he accepted.

“Maman,” Marinette whined. “Stoooooop.”

Tim smiled and reached over, pinching her cheek. “Relax, they’re nice.”

“Yeah,” she huffed and tilted her head away from the hand. “Too nice. It’s…” She waved her hands vaguely.

Sabine rested her hands on her hips. “Hush. You never bring friends home. Let me spoil this too-skinny one with manners to make him keep coming back.”

Marinette pressed her lips together thinly and rested her head in her hands. “Maman!” She complained.

Sabine laughed at her pain, giving her a pat on the head before making her way back down the steps.

She sighed and slowly looked up, preparing to ask Tim if they could just never work again, only to find a thoughtful frown playing across his lips.

She gave him a raised eyebrow.

He hesitated, but eventually the question slipped from between his lips: “Am I really… your only friend?”

God, Marinette wished she hadn’t asked. She looked at the project they were working on. It was a nice mix of red and black and yellow.

“Yeah,” she admitted after a while. “Just you and the people from student council, but they’re more friends of convenience than anything. Everyone else…” She sighed. “They aren’t too happy to be seen with someone that ‘cheated’ their way in.”

“But you didn’t?”

Marinette shrugged. “I know. I beat out one of the Staunton twins and I guess that means I had to have gotten in on some stupid diversity quota.”

Tim was quiet for a few moments.

Then, slowly, he scooted over to sit by her. She tipped her head slightly to rest against him.

“I’m really hoping that if I can get the Wayne scholarship it’ll prove to them that I deserve to be here just as much as anyone else… but I don’t think it’ll work.”

He hummed quietly. “You don’t want to be their friend, anyways. They’re all super stuck up.”

She gave a halfhearted laugh. She adjusted herself slightly on the stuffed cat so he could lean against it some as well.

“Why are you…?”

“Trying so hard?” Tim asked.

She nodded.

He sunk into the cat plush, closing his eyes. “I want my parents to be proud of me.”

Marinette closed her eyes as well, reaching out and taking his hand. There was a few moments before he intertwined their fingers.

“You always have my parents. They love you already,” she said quietly.

He chuckled. “And I’ll make my friends talk to you. I’m sure they’ll like you once they get to know you.”

They stayed like that for a while.

“I hope you get it,” Marinette said quietly.

“I hope you do, too.”

~

Tim’s parents were set to come home just in time for the scholarship letters to come in. Tim didn’t know if he wanted to know whether this was on purpose or if it was a complete coincidence. All he knew was that this meant that he would be able to tell them immediately.

And, well, he got his answer.

His phone blew up and he looked over to see Marinette freaking out. She had gotten the letter.

A weird feeling started in his chest. He was sad, yes, because this meant that he had failed and surely his parents would be disappointed in him… but he was also genuinely happy for her. She spammed him emojis and gifs, almost completely incoherent in her glee.

Bittersweet. That was the word for what he was feeling.

Suddenly, she stopped.

It must have hit her what it meant, too.

He sent her a quick text congratulating her.

And then he set his phone down. He made his way through the house, the weird feeling swelling ever higher. It was pushing its way up his throat, threatening to choke him. Something started behind his eyes and surely he wasn’t about to cry. He didn’t do that. He was far too old to cry.

He stopped at the front door. He didn’t know what he was doing. Maybe it was just habit at this point, obsessively checking the mail. Maybe he had been intending to leave. He didn’t know.

He sighed to himself and knelt down, picking up the pile of letters scattered on the doormat.

Tim almost dropped them.

He brought his hand to his mouth. He wanted a pen to bite at, his parents always complained about how bad biting his nails made his hands look. But there it was. Hidden among the bills and spam mail…

He let go of everything except for the letter emblazoned with the Wayne family crest, holding it close to his chest as he sprinted through the house.

His parents were at the kitchen table. Jack Drake was on his phone, he didn’t even look up at the sudden noise. Janet, however, did.

She gave him a stern look. “Timothy, what did I tell you about running through the house?”

Tim shrunk back just slightly, but quickly recovered. “I got the Wayne Scholarship!”

Janet shot to her feet, a smile lighting up her face. And it wasn’t one of those fake ones she wore at Galas, sitting all weird on her face, no. This one made her look younger, genuinely happier. She was proud.

She gathered him into a tight hug.

Tim hugged back, just as tightly. He buried his face in the fabric of his mother’s scarf, blinking rapidly.

He did it he did it he did it he was noticed –.

And then, suddenly, there was a banging noise.

Janet pulled back to look and Tim was already missing the warm feeling of her arms wrapped around him but this was nothing compared to the sudden chill he got when he saw his father’s face.

Jack and Janet looked at each other.

And, just like that, they were gone.

Tim stood in the kitchen, marble floors cold beneath his feet and letter clutched tightly in his hand.

He looked down at it, his expression carefully blank.

God… he’d never felt so… cold before.

He strode over to the fireplace in the living room. He turned it on.

He looked down at the letter in his hand.

He tossed it inside, not even bothering to watch the flames eat away at it, and collapsed on the couch.

He didn’t cry. Tim was far too old to cry. But he didn’t move for a long time.

Until he did. He pushed himself up in the pajama pants and thick hoodie that he had slept in. He trudged through the cold. The roads were clean, at least, he was making record time. He was freezing, he couldn’t feel his fingers and his toes felt like they were starting to ache, but he didn’t care.

His legs went on autopilot, as if he had trekked this particular path a million times.

He ended up at Marinette’s front door.

She took one look at him from her place behind the counter and rushed over, pulling him into the warmth of the bakery and towards the ovens.

And then she was wrapping around him, her face buried in his neck. She was talking. A lot. He couldn’t make out any of the words. He felt… weird.

They were joined by Sabine and Tom. They didn’t hug Tim, but they were close enough for him to lean into them. A hand ran up and down his back. Fingers combed through his hair.

“I got it. The letter,” Tim said quietly.

Marinette stopped speaking.

“It wasn’t enough.”

They squeezed him tighter.

She spoke some more. The only word he could make out was “Sorry.”

~

Marinette stared at the giant banner celebrating both her and Tim’s success.

It didn’t feel like a success.

She glanced around as much as she could in the giant scarf her mother had bundled her up in. People weren’t doing anything, weren’t coming up and apologizing or even just saying hi.

She felt an arm wrap around her shoulders and looked up, expecting Tim.

Instead she found that the arm was attached to Bernard. He grinned widely, giving her a little squeeze. “And here I thought I was going to have to pick between the two of you.”

Ali smiled. “Nice one.”

“Tim will be here in a few minutes. He’s been staying at my house since Saturday but he didn’t have any uniforms there, so –.”

“Didn’t ask about him.”

Bernard grinned. “But now I am. He’s been staying at your place?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Marinette scoffed. Pushed him off. “Shut up. It’s not like that.”

“It so is,” Ali said.

Marinette opened her mouth to respond, but then she heard someone yell for her. She turned to look at Tim. His uniform was largely hidden by the giant overcoat Marinette’s dad gave him so he wouldn’t get frostbite again. He looked dumb, she thought, pressing her lips together thinly to hide the smile that was threatening to make its way across her face.

“It is,” Bernard agreed with Ali.

“Oh, screw off, I hate both of you.”

~

Tim smiled as Marinette wrapped him in a tight hug. The both of them were sweaty and gross and could hardly breathe but they had won! This season’s soccer championship trophy was theirs!

Marinette was squealing into his ear and he couldn’t seem to let go but neither of them cared about their impending deafness nor the lack of oxygen.

Marinette pulled back, her eyes bright.

“I’m keeping the trophy,” she said.

He scoffed. “You are not. I saved all of the stuff to keep us from losing!”

“But I was the one that scored all the stuff that got us to win!”

“It’s mine –.”

“No, shut up, it’s mine –.”

They were cut off when their hug was joined by another person: Bernard came crashing into them, nearly sending them toppling over. And then there was Ali. And Sabine.

They actually did start to fall when Sabine got to them, but it was thanks to Tom that they didn’t hit the ground. He wrapped his arms around them and picked them all up, legs swinging as they left the safety of the ground in favor of the safety of his arms.

Marinette and Tim met eyes in the center of the group hug.

They smiled at each other. Tim tipped his head back so she could tuck her face into his neck. He could feel her elated laughter and her nails digging into his back. He squeezed back, smiling brightly.

~

It was the night of the play.

Marinette hesitated.

She pushed herself up onto the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

Tim blushed, smiling as he brought a hand to rest over the spot. “What was that for?”

She pressed her lips together. “Luck.”

His face, somehow, reddened further.

“Well, if that’s for luck…” he started, his voice pitching upwards with nerves. He leaned down and kissed her. It was short, their lips had barely brushed, but it was more than enough to make her brain fuzz so much it was hard to catch the rest of his sentence: “... then that should have been even more lucky, huh?”

Marinette stared at him with wide eyes for a few moments and he started to take a step back.

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mme Bourgeois, I have booked the flight to Gotham and arranged your stay at their best suite in Wayne Hotel for 7 days in Gotham during the Gala week."

Marinette reported her progress with polite professionalism like she always uses during this private meeting with her boss, Audrey Bourgeois the CEO of Style Queen. It has been over 5 years since the fall of Hawkmoth and the ex-Parisian hero had hung up her superhero costume and continued her life as usual.

Sure it took some trips to therapy sessions and many breakdowns after that fateful encounter, but like always our hero picked herself back up, brushed the dust, and took another step toward the future. The year when Hawkmoth was defeated was her last year at Dupont. It was a somewhat bittersweet graduation present if she was being honest. When she graduated from Dupont, she did so without even mending her relationship with her classmates.

She left Dupont without looking back, her classmate decided that the girl who can weave words so sweet is a better gem than Marinette and Marinette gave them her answer by letting them go.

After that, she went to IFA and graduated early with honors. While going to fashion school, Chloe successfully roped her to have an internship under the Style Queen. Which landed her a permanent secretary position and is working under Audrey as an apprentice as of today.

"Magnifique! I can always count on you Marinette! Did you make sure that your own accommodation is planned perfectly as well?"

"Naturally, Mme Bourgeois."

Audrey nodded, pleased at how competent Marinette is. "Excellent news, darling. Do you have your dress ready?"

Marinette went quiet and averted her gaze from her boss. Audrey frowned at her changed behavior and sighed heavily. "You do know that you are coming with me, right Marinette?"

Marinette kept quiet.

"Marinette," Audrey called with a pointed tone. Her apprentice fidgets one of her tics when she got found out doing something she wasn't supposed to do.

"Marinette, you know what this Gala meant, yes?"

"A Charity gala, Madame?"

Audrey laughed her signature condescending laugh and waved her gloved hand. "Cease your joking, Marinette! It is a chance for you to spread your wings! Make more connections! You understand why I'll take you with me, non?"

"To make sure your dress stays perfect, Madame?" Marinette snarked playfully.

"Hmm, that is true, yes. But! Aside from that, I want to brag you of course!"

Marinette tilted her head in confusion. Her lips formed a cute pout as her eyes narrowed in confusion. "Brag me, Madame?"

Audrey raised from her leather seat and walked towards the window behind her white marbled desk. "Yes! Marinette, you are an amazing aspiring designer, an amazing secretary and I have nothing to teach you any more about fashion because you soaked it all up like a sponge."

Marinette stayed quiet during her boss' tirade, though her mind began to swirl in a whirlwind of mess. What did she mean she didn't have anything to teach her anymore? She still has a long way to go! It's not her time to spread her wings! She was sure she'll plummet when the first problem occurs in her business! Not to mention, she knew that her design isn't up to par yet to other professional designers for her to build a business.

Sure she has celebrity clients here and there and whenever she opens out her website for the commission the list would be full in no time. However, comparing herself with Style Queen or even the now-dead Agreste Brand, she still has a long way to go.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng cease those self-deprecating thoughts that I know you're thinking right now! Honestly! I have raised you to have self-confidence but it seems that your biggest enemy is yourself!"

Tell me about it, Marinette scoffed internally but stopped her train of thought nonetheless. The young woman raised her head and look at her boss with a pensive look and Audrey gave her a rare soft smile.

"Marinette, you are a great designer, your business though it is small, will grow quickly. I have nothing more to teach you, it's time for you to find a new mentor. Spread your wings, embark new horizon, non?" Audrey spread her hands as a grand gesture, she then winked at Marinette to add a little bit of effect. "Think about it."

"Understood, Mme Bourgeois." Giggled Marinette merrily. Audrey chuckled and clapped her hands. "I'll inform you of my decision, tomorrow morning."

Audrey claps her hand with a victorious smile, "Magnifique! Now! I require-"

"Your special brew coffee and your sweet snacks for the break and the latest fashion magazine as well as your mani-pedis private appointment," Marinette replied immediately with a sardonic smile. Her boss smirked and winked at her and Marinette excused herself from the office.

Once the huge doors of the office closed she let her shoulder slump and exhaled heavily. Her heart was heavy at the thought of leaving Style Queen, she loves her job, though it isn't actually a full-time designing job, she made a good amount of money and the working hours didn't clash with her time to finish her client's commission, so all in all a win-win situation.

However, deep down she knew that Audrey was right, she had hit a point where she could grow no further here. Her design flourished through the years and more celebrities approached her privately to purchase her designs, but honestly, she doesn't know what to do next. Audrey had told her in order to build a big fashion business she would need a mentor that dabbled in a business empire and sadly enough though her network is vast none of them are from a flourishing business empire.

Marinette reached her personal desk and slumped on her seat while massaging her temple. She could feel a prod from her breast pocket and looked down to see her faithful friend peering up at her with their big eyes. Marinette gave Tikki an encouraging small smile.

"It's alright, Tikki, I'll manage." She whispered quietly at her. Even though this particular floor is only inhabited by her office and the big boss, she could never be too safe.

"I know, Marinette. I just figured you need a pat, that's all." Tikki giggled sweetly at her chosen.

"Thank you, Tikki. It definitely gave me a boost." She chuckled and tickled Tikki's soft head with her finger. She took a deep breath and decided to shelve the thought about her growing business aside, she had work to do. She popped her knuckles and straightened her back.

First thing first, the mani-pedis private appointment.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marinette finished her work a little later than the normal 5 o'clock, there's a lot of work to be done as the Style Queen's assistant. But she didn't complain, it made her busy so she doesn't have to wallow in depression and anxiety that had always waited for her in the corner.

She gathered her things meticulously, made sure that Tikki is safely tucked in her bucket bag that she had made herself, and left the building to go home. Her penthouse wasn't far from where she worked, so it had been a pleasant quiet walk home.

Once she arrived home she let Tikki out of her bag and went to a room that she named, 'The Kwami Abode'. It was one of the more spacious rooms with a large window facing the Eiffel tower, in the middle of the room stood a glowing tree, the whole tree branches and trunk were white with shimmering iridescent purple and blue, and the leaves were crystal it formed a dome covering the egg-shaped Miracle box on the top of the tree trunk, hanging by the branches were different color pods there were 19 in total for all the Kwamis and each pod was decorated for their personal preference.

The room was painted a soft lilac color and it has layers upon layers of protective magic. Once Marinette had bought herself a place to live using her own commission money and her pay as Style Queen's secretary, she made sure to reserve a room for the Kwamis. She doesn't want them to be cooped up in the Miracle Box, so using her magic she created the trees and pods so that the Kwami could lounge around in peace.

Tikki was delighted that her chosen held such great magic and the other Kwamis were equally delighted that their guardian is thoughtful enough to build them a proper place to stay in.

Marinette smiles as Tikki gave her a small kiss on her cheek and flew to her pod, from one of the pods Pollen flew out and let out an excited squeal.

"The Grand Guardian Is Back!!!" The Bee kwami immediately zoomed toward Marinette and gave her cheek a hug.

Hearing Pollen's excited squeal the other kwamis namely, Trixx, Barkk, and Duusu flew out from their respective pods and swarmed Marinette with hugs of their own. The young Guardian smiled warmly at their excited greetings and left the Kwami Abode to start on dinner.

While making the Kwami's dinner, she was lost in thought again about her future. So lost that she almost chopped her fingers but thankfully Plagg stopped her by nudging her palm with his head. Marinette blinked a few times and her eyes locked at Plagg's electric green. The Black Cat God gave her a look.

"What's going on in your head, kitten?"

Marinette set aside the knife she was holding and let out a deep sigh, "It's nothing, Plagg. I'm just being ridiculous."

"Utterly ridiculous?" Plagg snarked with a shit-eating grin.

Marinette scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious though, pigtails, what's going on? You wanna have a therapy session with your favorite kwami again?"

"Oh come on, Plagg. I haven't been wearing pigtails in years! You've gotta find a more creative nickname than that. You're losing your touch. Also, my favorite Kwami happens to be Wayzz." She winked as Plagg gave a betrayed gasp.

"How dare you, pigtails! I raised you from when you were just a lovesick kitten! Taught you everything you know about mischief and chaos! And this is how you pay me??? Betrayal?? Favoritism???" He wailed dramatically.

Marinette laughed out loud, holding the kitchen counter so she wouldn't fall. Plagg grinned as he watched his precious kitten laugh freely, it doesn't happen too often, not nowadays at least. Marinette had closed herself off from any potential friendship because of the trauma she had from her former classmate. Her only friends, namely Kagami, Luka, and Chloe, didn't see each other as often as they'd like. But they tried at least.

"Anyways, don't try changing the subject, kitten. What's wrong?" Plagg asked again. Marinette stopped her laugh and smiled weakly at Plagg.

"I'm not getting out of this conversation, am I?"

"Nope, kitty cat! C'mon, y'know you can confide your worries to dear old Plagg!"

Marinette snorts and rolled her eyes before huffing silently. "It's about my future. Audrey told me that I might need to find another mentor since she doesn't have anything to teach me anymore. It's a great opportunity but I'm content with what I have!"

Plagg hummed and floats closer to Marinette. "You're scared of change, aren't you?"

Marinette holds her shoulder and hunched forward while biting her lips anxiously. "Maybe...Okay... Yeah, I'm scared. It's just... I think she wants me to leave France and I'm just..."

"Not ready?"

The former ladybug nodded meekly at that. Plagg reached out to touch her cheeks. "Listen to me, Bugs. I know how scary it is to get out of your comfort zone, but I can feel you restless. You are a true Holder, A True Soul even! I can tell that your creative soul is dying to leave this place. Paris is safe now, it has been safe for 5 years, and you made sure of that. The people had their time to move on forward. But you? This might be your chance to do so."

"But what about, you guys?"

"What? You think we're going to hate leaving Paris? Kitten, you are the Great Grand Guardian of the Miraculous. Where you go we follow. Besides, I think I speak for all of my siblings that we just want you to be happy."

"Plagg is right my Queen! You made sure we live in comfort and we also want the same for you!"

"You've done so much for us and it's time for you to be a little selfish, who knows maybe you'll meet the love of your life out there!" Duusu exclaimed excitedly.

"Besides, your power has improved greatly, Grand Guardian. I think making another 'Kwami's Abode' in your new residence wherever you will be would be an easy task. We believe in you." Wayzz added as he joined the conversation.

Marinette felt tears prickling from her eyes, she sniffed and looked up at the Kwamis around her. "Thank you. Thank you so much." She whispered.

Her heart settled for the first time in a few years, no lingering anxiety as her decision was made. Perhaps, the Wayne Gala would lead her to a better life, a new exciting adventure, a place where she could finally call home.

"Well, it looks like we're all going to take a trip to Gotham."

TBC

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For Night_ngale on Ao3:

Marinette had been having a wonderful day with her parents in Gotham, New Jersey.  Her parents had just finished a catering job there and today they had decided to go sightseeing to all of the tourist attractions.  They had taken her to the zoo, to the aquarium, to the museum, and now they were heading to a bo-ton-tanicel-al…. botanical garden!  Both of her parents were holding her hands and smiling brightly at her as they walked the busy streets.  It was such a nice day, absolutely nothing could ruin it for her!

Then an explosion happened, and there was running, and a ringing noise in her ears that just wouldn’t stop, and everything was moving too fast.  

Screams filled the air along with scary high pitched giggling that sent shivers running through her spine.  She clutched tightly to the pair of hands that held onto both of her’s just as tightly, if not tighter, as they fled the crowded streets.  Then they could feel the cool shadow of something big that was coming from up high.  She looked up and felt herself freeze up as a massive piece of concrete broke off of the building they were under and fell faster and faster and faster exactly where she and her parents stood.  She tried to move, she tried to get herself to run away from the danger that she knew even at her age meant that she would no longer be able to wander the Earth; but she couldn’t.  The people kept shoving past her and her parents, keeping them in place as everyone pushed and shoved to get far, far away from the ensuing chaos.  The crowd was too thick, the screams were too loud, the rubble was too fast.  The next thing she knew was two pairs of different sized hands shoved her forward away from the massive pieces of falling debris that was right above them.  She turned to look behind her to see her parents' horrified expressions as they too stared up at the ginormous piece of concrete that was hurtling towards them and so many more people.  People kept almost stepping on her and crowding her vision of her parents and they moved before she could blink.  

Before she could even process what happened next, someone had picked her up and moved her away before quickly covering her eyes.  A few seconds later a loud crash was heard and the ground shook so hard she would have fallen over if the person hadn’t been keeping her upright.  Once the shaking was over the person that had rescued her picked her up, holding tightly onto her as they moved their hand up and the sound of something being shot through the air sounded just above her.

“It’s ok, I’ve gotcha.”

Said a deep gruff voice, though she could barely hear it as the cold wind whipped past her ears biting at her skin.  Her knee length pink dress hugged her legs as her brain refused to function and process the events that had just occurred.  She felt her feet touch solid ground, but her legs didn’t seem to want to hold her as her brain continued to stay offline.  She couldn’t think, couldn’t comprehend, and would the ringing in her ears just stop!  Where were her mama and papa?!  What happened to them?!  

It sounded like someone was trying to talk to her, but she was underwater and she couldn’t hear a thing, she couldn’t even see what was in front of her clearly.  Her entire body felt like it was weighted down, the pressure slowly crushing her.   She couldn’t even think, her brain was just too quiet and the ringing was too loud!  There was too much, too much noise, too much quiet, too much information yet not enough at all!  She kept going down deeper with nothing to ground her fleeting thoughts until she felt something heavy being placed around her shoulders.  Her eyes slowly began to register her surroundings and, after who knew how long, she was met with deep light teal eyes that were filled with worry.  Their face was obscured by a red mask, but she could still make out most of his features.  He had dark black hair with a white streak in it.  She didn’t know why this was important, all she knew was that she had to keep looking at him.  It was like if she looked away from him then everything would get all fuzzy again and she wouldn’t be able to think, and the ringing would take over her again even though it was still there!  Why can’t it stop, just make it stop, she wanted her mama and papa!  Where were they?!

“Hey, things will be ok.”

The masked man gently stated.  He kept eye contact with her, watching her to make sure she didn’t start to hyperventilate and that she wouldn’t go into shock.  He carefully pulled the jacket around her full body, carefully pulling her limp and dysfunctional arms into the jacket’s large sleeves.  He gave her a small reassuring smile while smoothing out the sleeves on the jacket, pressing the warmth of it onto her.  “Can you hold onto this for me?  I’ll be right back, ok?”

She simply nodded her head and held onto the jacket tightly like it was a lifeline.  He slowly grabbed a helmet that was on the ground near his legs and put it on.  “Don’t move ok, you’re safe now.”

He looked back at her then ran and jumped off…., oh, she was on a roof.  When did she get on a roof?  She hadn’t noticed.  She stood completely still, her mind causing the cacophony of noises to fade in and out.  She could hear screams and bangs, then nothing.  She could hear fighting and laughter, then the ringing came back.  The sounds often came close to the roof she was on; the fear of it made her legs so weak she eventually collapsed onto her knees as she clutched the jacket tighter than before.  Eventually her brain finally seemed to grasp the reality around her causing tears to start falling down her cheeks and sobs escaped her lips.  Her parents were dead, she was rescued, but th-they’re d-de-dead!  

Sobs wracked her small frame as the noises continued on for she doesn’t even know how long.  Every time there was a noise louder than the rest she pulled the jacket even tighter around her small body expecting the worst.  She wanted to escape, she wanted to hug her parents, she just wanted to go back home to Paris.  She wanted to go back to the bakery and eat the desserts her parents made, see Nino and Kim and play games with them, she wanted to go to the pretty gardens at the park and lay with the flowers.  

They were supposed to be happy, they were happy when they saw the pretty fishies, they were happy when they saw the amazing artifacts in the museum, papa had held her on his shoulders so she could see the giraffes better when they had taken her to the zoo.  Everything had been so perfect, why did everything change so fast?  Why did her mama and papa have to leave her like this?  Why was there no rain when such a terrible tragedy had just occurred like in the movies?

There was a soft thump that made her wrap the jacket even tighter, if that was even possible.  She didn’t want to get hurt, she just wanted her parents back.  “Hey, thanks for holding onto that for me.”

The man from before said.  She looked up, her eyes watery, making his figure blurry.  She saw him take off the helmet and set it down.  He looked sad and remorseful as he slowly sat next to her, but never reached out to touch her, instead remaining a comfortable presence.  “You from here?”

She slowly shook her head no.  “P-Paris.”

Her voice was cracked and broken.  Her parents had her study English with her French studies because of all of the tourists that came by.  Not to mention Mama said that if she wanted to be famous then she had to know English.  How would she get back to Paris?  Who would take her?  How was she supposed to survive without her mama and papa?!  She couldn’t, she needed them, now they’re gone and she’ll die here because she has nothing without them.  

“Paris is a nice place.  Have any friends there?”

She nodded again, the movement causing the drops on her cheek to drip onto the ground.  He stayed silent, waiting to see if she would do or say anything further.  She was glad he let her take her time, she was tired and her brain was still too loud and fuzzy to really understand his questions immediately.  Dejectedly she replied,  “N-Nino and K-Kim are my friends.  Th-they stand up t-to Chloe f-for me.  Everyo-one else is too scared of her an-and her daddy.”

He reached out to touch her, but quickly pulled back.  He wanted to comfort the small child, but he wasn’t sure how she would respond if he touched her.  She looked so small curled up in his jacket, it would have been cute if it weren’t for the circumstances that led to the scene in front of him.  “Sounds like you’ve got some good people lookin’ out for ya.”

He said, trying to sound reassuring.  She gave a small smile and nodded, “Y-yea.”

“Why don’t we go somewhere safe.  I know someone who will take care of ya for a bit, okay?”  Red Hood asked carefully.  She nodded again and was about to take her arms out of the sleeves of the warm jacket, but before she could fully take it off the man stopped her.  “Keep it, I’ve got a lot of others back home, and this is gonna keep you safe, ok?”

She nodded slowly, letting him adjust and zip it up so the warmth that still lingered in it was all around her.  He slowly stood up, projecting his movements so as to not scare her before he extended his hand for her to take.  She looked at it hesitantly, slowly reaching out and taking hold of his hand as she wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her free arm.  Her hand was so small that when he closed his her entire hand was encompassed by his own. He gently pulled her back onto her feet making sure she was stable before letting go.  “Hop on my back and hold on tight, ‘kay?”

He said softly–just like her mom used to when she was hurt–crouching down with his back facing her so she could climb on.  With a brief moment of hesitation, because what if this was a trap like Mama and Papa had warned her about, she carefully climbed onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck and gripped onto his shirt.  It was a bit hard as there seemed to be something hard sewn into parts of it, but it was okay.  He slowly got up and made sure her legs were wrapped tightly around his torso so she wouldn't slip or fall off.  When he was sure she was secure, he grabbed something from one of his pockets, angled it.  There was a loud bang, like the one she had heard when he had first grabbed her, though that memory felt like it was from so many years ago, that startled her accompanied by a whiz as it shot into the air.  He pulled on the device he was using to make sure it was taught and secure, then he ran and jumped off the building.  

Marinette screamed in fear and buried her face into his shoulder, holding him even tighter than before.  She kept her eyes shut, feeling out the rhythm of run, jump, fall, swing.  Eventually she started to feel a little more comfortable swinging through the air, that was until they started to fall again.  She screamed again louder than the time before and heard the noise of the man’s device again before she felt the taut jolt that signified they were soaring through the air once more.  Slowly, she tilted her head up and saw how amazing the city looked with all of its shining lights so high up in the sky with the setting sun sinking behind the tall buildings.  Wasn’t it just past 13:00 though?  She had just eaten lunch with her mama and papa; hadn’t she…?

Suddenly the lights weren’t as amazing as they were before, they were dull and full of sorrow and loss.  She didn’t want to look down just in case she saw them, they wouldn’t look the same.  She didn’t want to look down because then she might fall, and she didn’t want to fall.  Heights have always been scary.  She held onto the man tighter, scared that if she loosened her grip even the smallest amount, she’d fall.

They continued on in that fashion for a few minutes when the man with the red helmet set her down on a balcony.  It was plain with a swirled black metal guard.  The roof was bland and lifeless with nothing decorating it other than the fence, she didn’t like it.  “I’ve got a friend here.  He’ll watch over you for a while, okay?”  She nodded slowly, unsure of whether she should be relieved someone would take her in or scared that this was all some sort of trap.  She watched and listened as the man climbed down a fire escape and began to tap on a window.

Tap

…

Tap tap

…..

Tap tap tap

Then he stepped back and waited.  Another man with red hair opened the window with a small smile, “What’s up Hood?” He asked in a casual voice.

“I need you to watch someone for me.”

The red-haired man raised a brow.

“Her parents didn’t make it in the last battle with Joker.  Lots of debris, and I don’t feel like having serial-adopter-bats see her.”

“Makes sense.  Where are they?” The other man asked with a small nod, looking around the escape.  The man in the helmet held up one finger and climbed back up to her.  

“Can you come with me please?”

Marinette gulped, unsure of what she should do.  But the man has been really nice to her so far, and he’s even letting her keep his jacket.  Slowly she reached out and took his offered hand, letting him help her down the fire escape to the window.

“Hey,”

The other man said in a soft tone,

“What's your name?”

She looked down, anxiously twirling her foot from side to side.  “M-Marinette.”  She replied quietly, voice strained.

“That’s a nice name, how old are you?”  His voice was soft and gentle and it made her feel a little more at ease.

“Nine.”

“Wow, you’re pretty old, huh?  I’m Roy, do you want to come in and eat something?  I just finished making some sandwiches.”  She looked back at the man that had brought her here and saw him give her a small nod.  She nodded back and shyly followed the red haired man into the apartment building.  “Do you want some water?”

She nodded again, standing near the island counter.  She looked back at the window where the man in the helmet had been only seconds before, only to see that he was no longer there.  The man nodded and quickly got a cup from a cupboard and filled it with some tap water before placing it on the counter near her with a small plate that held what looked like BLT.  “I have a roommate, he should come by soon.  Just as a heads up, ok?”

She nodded, carefully climbing up to the barstool and sat down.  Marinette looked at the sandwich and started picking at it.  She really wasn’t that hungry, but it would be rude to not accept her host's hospitality.  Her mama had taught her the importance of respecting people that were trying to help her, especially when she was at her friend’s home.  Tears she thought she had run out of started to resurface as she thought of her mama.  She sniffled and wiped her eyes before more could escape.  

Roy looked at her worriedly.  From what he had read from the text Jason had sent him, her parents were caught by falling debris from one of Joker’s bombs that the bats hadn’t been able to dismantle in time.  He had been able to pull her away, but her parents along with a bunch of other civilians weren’t able to make it out of the way in time.  Jason said that he had managed to cover her eyes and take her away before she could see anything, but he knew that wouldn’t be enough to stop any type of trauma from forming.  

The girl was so small, he could only imagine what must be going through her mind.  Not to mention she was only visiting from Paris, she wasn’t even from Gotham.  Apparently her parents were catering for one of Bruce’s events, and that was the only reason they had even traveled here in the first place.

“Hey, do you want to watch a movie?  I’m sure we could find something you’d like.”  She didn’t respond right away as she processed what he had asked. It didn’t matter though, he’d give her all the time she needed.

“R-Ratatouille?”  Was her small reply.  A smile graced his lips, as he asked,

“Is that your favorite Disney movie?”  She shrunk in on herself and nodded with a small, 

“Mhm.”

“That’s a great movie, let me ask Jason to pick it up when he comes back.  He should be here soon anyways.”

“Okay.”  

Her voice was so quiet, but he could hear the joy in her voice.  He quickly texted Jason to pick up the movie when he was done debriefing with The Bats and started to make another sandwich since she was eating his, not that he minded of course.  

•         •         •

Jason walks in with a bag full of gummy candy, popcorn, a box of different flavored macaroons, and one Disney movie in its unopened case and plastic wrapping.  He was thankful to see that the small girl was sitting at the counter drawing.  He wouldn’t know what to do if she were still crying.  “Hey, heard we’re takin’ care of another kid?  I bet Lian will be happy to have a new friend when she comes back from her sleepover.”

He called out into the apartment as if he had no idea what had happened only a few hours before.  The little girl startled from her seat, quickly turning to look at him with her large bluebell eyes.  He really needed to keep her away from Bruce, she was perfect Wayne material and he refused for her to be tainted by him and the rest of his adopted child army.

“Yea, Red Hood dropped her off due to….”  He glanced at the girl sympathetically, “The incident that happened earlier.”

Marinette shifted uncomfortably and went back to drawing with a furrowed brow.  There was a heavy silence that filled the room until Jason said, “Well, I bought a bunch of snacks and was told to buy a movie, so….”

Marinette looked up again and hopped off the chair nearly tripping.  She quickly stood up embarrassed as both boys stared at her in worry.

“You okay Marinette?”  Roy asked carefully, walking towards her.  Her cheeks turned a slight red as she nodded.

“Y-yes, sorry.  I’m really clumsy.”  Her voice held a French accent that only made the little girl even more adorable.  Jason gave her a wide smile and gently handed her the plastic grocery bag.  

“Here you go.”

She carefully took the bag with a small ‘thank you’, and started to look through it.  Her eyes shined with childlike glee at the macaroons and they shined even brighter when she pulled out the blue-ray disk.  She quickly ran over to Roy and showed him the movie asking if he could put it into whatever he uses.  

It was interesting to see Roy smile and ruffle her hair.  He looked calm and happy, used to the role of caretaker.  Gently he took the disk, removed the plastic before opening it up, and walked over to the TV in the main room next to the kitchen and popped the disk in. 

“Hey, I’ll go grab some blankets.  Do you want to take your shoes off Marinette?”  He asked gently as he moved toward the linen closet.  She nodded and slipped them off with a slightly flushed face.  She watched as Roy sunk down on the couch where he patted at one of the seats.  Cautiously she walked toward the coach sitting in a rocking chair a few feet away from Roy.  You could never be too cautious, at least that’s what her mama used to say.  “Used to”, that felt wrong. 

When Jason walked back into the room he watched as the small girl hugged her legs close to her chest, face hidden behind her arms.  It was a heartbreaking sight, a sight that felt familiar, pulling on his heartstrings as he remembered doing the same thing around the same age. 

“Thanks Jaybird.”  Roy whispered as he took the blankets from his hands.  He hadn’t even noticed that he was approaching.  He was out of it today, and not in a good way.  The opening narration of Remmy the Rat began to play through the speakers as Roy slowly and carefully wrapped a weighted blanket around the young girl's shoulders.  He watched as Roy talked to her quietly for a few moments, never initiating touch, waiting to see what she would say or do.  It was always interesting to watch Roy act like a father as he acted and treated his kid far differently than either of his dads had treated him.  After a few minutes Roy stepped away, back to his spot on the coach not saying another word as the young girl collected herself before looking up to watch the movie with tear soaked cheeks that stabbed at Jason’s heart.

•         •         •

It was around the middle of the movie that little Mari fell asleep.  She had slowly begun to relax as the movie progressed until she had blinked a few times very slowly, then they stayed shut. She was emotionally exhausted from the day and had simply passed out, poor kid.

Jason watched the kid, and not in a weird way.  He was worried, and he didn’t know what to do.  The kid was stuck here, despite the fact that she’s not a citizen, and from what little information he could find with little at his disposal, he couldn’t find any family that could take her now that she was an orphan.  Jason wondered if this was how Bruce felt when he had met all of them before he decided to make them his little band of misfit toys.  He often felt this way when he saw Lian, but it was never as strong of an emotion as he felt now for this child he had only met a few hours ago.

“You look constipated; which means you’re trying a failing to show some form of deep emotion.  So spit it out, what’s going on in that thick skull of yours?”

Roy asked quietly, turning his head slightly to give him a side eye before turning back to the movie.  Jason rolled his eyes and let out a long frustrated sigh.  “I don’t know Roy.  There’s just a lot going on, especially after the last attack.”

Roy quickly paused the movie and turned to look Jason in his eyes.  There wasn’t any pity in his gaze, but there was empathy and an openness that showed he wouldn’t judge.

“It was Joker’s fault.  So many people died because of the Joker, her parents,” he firmly gestured to the sleeping girl with tear stained cheeks sleeping on the small chair, whisper yelling so as to not wake her; “are no longer alive because of his actions today and Bruce still won’t get rid of him.”  Jason took in a deep shuddering breath, he needed to control himself, he couldn’t let the green creep in.  That wouldn’t do anything, it wouldn’t do any good for anyone, especially right now.

“I’ve tried to kill him,”  Jason admitted shakily, “I’ve tried, but he always finds a way to stop me.  I don’t understand how he cares for that-that creature more than his own- than for me.”  A heavy silence fell between them only broken up by the gentle snores to their right.  

“I don’t want her to feel this way, I don’t want her to go through the same pain I went through at her age.”  Jason continued.  When I was trying to find out any information on her, a potential family member that could take her home I found that her grandmother on her dad’s side died in a motorcycle accident, her grandfather died of a heart attack, on her mom’s side it looks like her mother was disowned for unknown reasons, which means that they probably would not take in her daughter.  That leaves her with Social Services, and despite Bruce’s efforts I still don’t trust it; or as a street kid.”

Roy contemplated everything that Jason had just told him.  They had been through a lot together, in fact Jason and Star were the reasons that he was still alive, the reason he believed that he was doing a good job at being a father, they helped him keep going when everyone else had given up on him.  Roy glanced at the sleeping girl, then back to Jason.  Jason looked at the girl the same way Roy looked at his own daughter, with a sort of protective love.  Roy could tell that Jason cared about the kid; he probably saw himself Marinette.  It only made sense that he would feel extra protective around the girl as no one would want the same trauma that you’ve faced placed onto another.  

“Well, what do you think is the best thing to do Jason?  I know for a fact that you’re not going to be letting Bruce or any of the other bats, besides maybe Oracle, anywhere near her.  If what you say is true, and she really has no family that will willingly take her in, then what’s your plan?”

Another sigh escaped Jason as he leaned his head back so that it was hanging off the coach. “I don’t know Roy, maybe we can drop her off in Metropolis and let her be taken care of there.  They have a better system and I’m sure she would  be adopted by someone that would love her.”

Roy nodded, he could see the good in the plan, but there was something else.  Jason was still frustrated and didn’t like the idea.  “But?”  He prodded.

“”But,” Jason said emphasizing the ‘t’, “the thought of doing that makes my skin crawl in all of the wrong ways.”

Roy hummed.  This isn't some easy or light hearted task.  The kid had just lost both of her parents in the most sudden way possible, then she was taken away from the area and to the house of complete strangers, and to top it off she may never be able to return to her home country; but if she does she would be put into the foster system with no stability ot time to heal.  Of course she also had the possibility of being taken in by her grandparents in China, but there was a chance that they would treat her poorly since they had disowned her mother, and they may only take her in because of obligation.  Nothing about this was easy, none of it was simple.  If Jason wanted to somehow become her legal guardian then he would need to earn her trust, he would have to either legally become alive again or find a believable identity that would allow for him to adopt her.  

There were just so many variables, and it was too late for this conversation, yet not late enough.  

“Lian’s coming home tomorrow, we can figure this out while they play.”

Jason nodded, mostly to himself.  “You’re right.  We need to give her more time to process everything, I still need to process today.”

“Did you have a panic attack?” Roy asked worriedly.  Now that he was thinking about it there must have been lots of explosions, even if most of them were disabled.  Then there was the clown and how he just paraded around on the rooftops.  Jason had had a few before when he returned back to the apartment after a Joker breakout, it was horrifying.  Jason just gave him a sad, strained smile.

“No, thankfully.”

“Right,”  Roy said as he slowly stood up, stretching his arms up dramatically. “Well let's move her to Kori’s room tonight.  She’s still visiting Tamaran.”

Jason nodded, following suit.  Slowly he approached the sleeping girl, televising his movements despite the fact that she was still asleep before gently picking the girl up.  Roy watched with a gentle smile as he slowly walked to Kori’s room, trying not to wake her as he brought her to bed.  He had watched Jason do the same thing with Lian, playing the role of older brother perfectly.  Now, it looked like he might be stepping into a new role.  The same role that Roy carried right now.  But who knew what would happen.  As Roy settled in for the night in his own room a sudden thought came to his mind.  Jason was always complaining how Bruce had a “type” or MO for the people he really cared about; and that was that they needed to have black hair and/or blue eyes.  The girl that Jason saved and now is attached to has black hair and…blue eyes.  He quickly turned into his pillow and started laughing his butt of, hoping that no one would be able to hear him.  A couple tears slipped down his cheeks as he thought to himself, ‘so it’s a learned trait after all.’

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