#ofahbmog

| A/N: So I really thought SCAB would be my first piece of writing posted on here/for Maribat but then I got mugged in a dark dank alleyway by the Maribat2k20 MariTim prompt calendar and stabbed by the knife of inspiration. So uh yeah enjoy. |

| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics, or a specific Au, then send me a DM or an ask! |

| Also side note, Don't Like? Don't Read. Also please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

==–==

 Heck-heck-heckity-heckles, Marinette chants in her head, desperately needing to find an empty alleyway that she can detransform in. She flicks her yo-yo towards a random skyscraper, and swings her way across the Gotham night skyline, scanning the streets below for somewhere that met her criteria.

 Just as her earrings bleep thrice to signal that she was down to two dots, she spots it, an empty alleyway not in plain view of any roads, or windows. There! She cheers internally, dropping down into the alleyway and whispering a “Tikki, spots off!”

 However, her relief at finding a place to detransform is short-lived, for as soon as the bright pink glow fades away, she's faced with the sight of Red Robin half changed into civvies, domino in one hand. Marinette stares at him in shock, and he stares back. Blinking blankly, she tries to wrap her mind around the fact that one of her "civilian" friends is actually a hero. A hero she's allies with, friends even.

 The two stand there for a solid minute as their brains reboot. Tim cocks his head to one side, gaze flickering between looking her up and down, and staring at her earrings. Marinette also cocking her head to one side but her gaze switches between his bare face and the domino in his hand.

 Once their brains finish rebooting, immediately the two blurt out the first thoughts to come to mind.

 “Tim... You're Red Robin?”–

 –“Wait, Marinette, you've been Ladybug this entire time?”

  Marinette swallowed, blinking back tears, suddenly very aware of how vulnerable she was in the open with her secret exposed and—oh god, Tim's the first person to know my identity bar Master Fu… This is the first time I've ever had my identity revealed and I didn't even get a choice—She manages to choke down a sob before spitting out, “I think we should take this somewhere more private.” The words burning her tongue with the acrid taste of fear.

 He nods sharply—almost more of a jerk than an actual nod. “I agree.”

 Neither makes an attempt to move, both still staring.

 “My place or yours?” She asks, hesitantly, half frowning.

 He nods again, more softly this time, “Mine, but lemme just um…” Gesturing towards the amalgamation that was half his Red Robin suit and half civvies as he speaks.

 Marinette's eyes widen in realisation, practically squeaking, she stutters. “Oh. Uh yeah, sorry!” She stiffly turns her back to him in an act of respect of privacy and cradles her face in her hands as her cheeks flush bright red from embarrassment. God, I'm never going to live this down, am I?

 After about a minute of stewing in her embarrassment, she hears Tim clears his throat from the other side of the Alleyway. “Okay, done.”

 She turns around to face him again, the blush has faded somewhat in the time passed but it's still very clearly noticeable. She can't help but glance at his civilian outfit. “Oh, er, nice?”

 He sort of just blinks at her, rather bemused. “Uh, thanks… I guess?”

 An awkward silence hangs over them as they shuffle and dance around each other on their way out of the alleyway. The walk to his theatre house is just as silent and awkward despite the hundreds of questions on each of their lips. A good thing then—Marinette supposes—that we didn't go to my place, I'm not sure I'd be able to handle an even longer awkward silence.

==–==

 They take the civilian route inside—also known as using the door like a sane person—because apparently, vigilantes will only use windows as entrances provided there are windows to enter and that the vigilantes in question are suited up. Tim spends a good thirty seconds opening his front door, deactivating a bunch of different security protocols most likely. The hallway and lounge lights were already on probably to try and deter potential robbers—the house is in Crime Alley after all—but once they enter said hallway, all the ceiling lights on the first floor switch on.

 Tim guides her to the sofa, which she perches on the edge of, facing the massive fish tank before disappearing into the kitchen. The sound of shuffling feet, cupboards and drawers opening, and the click of a kettle—or perhaps a coffee machine? She can't quite tell from this distance—are the only things to give away what he's doing in there. Marinette has no doubts that he's making the noise on purpose, he's a bat. But she's not quite sure if the noise is because he's comfortable here, or if it's because he's trying to make her feel more welcome?

 A minute later, Tim re-emerges with two teacups in hand. He gently lays both on a coffee table between the sofa and aquarium, one of the cups pushed towards her general direction. He plops himself down on the sofa as well, albeit leaving enough space between the two of them that a third person could sit there.

 She picks up the drink and peers at it, perplexed, for a second, question falling from her mouth before she can stop herself, “Earl Grey? With lemon?” I thought he was a coffee person?

 “Alfred.” Is his clipped response.

 She nods and 'oh's under her breath. That explains it. Marinette takes a sip and her eyes light up. “Oh wow! This is delicious!”

 Tim raises his eyebrows in amusement and snorts but doesn't comment. The conversation lulls again. They sip their tea in silence.

 When Marinette finishes her tea, she carefully puts the mug back down, with an audible clink, on the coffee table. She hesitates and the words Kagami once told her come unbidden to her mind. She grimaces, glances to Tim.

 He's watching her with that calculating gaze of his, however, it seems far more tumultuous in nature this evening. He's hiding his mouth behind his mug like another mask.

 Marinette leans back against the sofa and stares at his ceiling before idiomatically biting the bullet and physical biting her lips. “How long are we going to do this?”

 He freezes. “Do what?”

 She gestures vaguely in the air between the two of them. “This, tiptoe around the elephant in the room or I suppose in our case, the vigilantes in the room.”

 Her phrasing manages to bring a small smile to his face but not a second later it fades and he purses his lips.

 Solemnly, he gives her a once over. “So you're Ladybug then?”

 Marinette huffs. “And you're Red Robin.”

 “Does anyone else know that you're her then?”

 She turns her head away from him, “No, you're…” Her throat closes up and she's forced to blink back tears again. Barely holding back the sniffles, she chokes out the last few words. “You're the only other person to know.”—Not technically a lie, it's not like Master Fu remembers anything about the miraculous, let alone my identity.

 Tim deflates slightly, curling his shoulders inwards. “I wish you had told us before, we could have supported you. You shouldn't have had to deal with all that without help”

 “What? Like Batman didn't start off alone?” Marinette snaps back automatically, no real heat behind her words.

  “Batman's not exactly a pillar of good life decisions or emotional stability.” He retorts with a raised eyebrow.

 Sighing, she shakes her head and whines, “Tim…”

 “Marinette.” His lips twitch upwards like he's in on some joke she doesn't get, “On the bright side, now we know each other's identities, we can help each other on cases and patrols, or cover for the other in or out the masks.” He offers, sounding so calm and nonchalant.

 Marinette shuffles closer to him on the sofa. “That would be useful. I just. I.” She stutters, brain moving faster than her mouth.

 Tim grins ruefully. “You're worried I'm gonna tell the rest of the bats who you are, right?”

 She curls up instinctively. “Yeah…”

 “Don't worry, they're also detectives. If they can't work out your identity then why should I give them the answer?” He tries to joke but it falls flat.

 “The magic of the Miraculous stops people from making the connection between my two identities.” Marinette responds.

 “Ok, but what I'm trying to say is that I'm not going to give you away even if they ask.” He also shuffles closer to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her towards him.

 “Thank you, Tim.”

 “No problem, Mari.”

 Marinette pauses. “So this won't affect our relationship in or out the mask, right? We're still friends?”

 “Of course! This doesn't change a thing.” Tim, emulating Dick, pulls her in for a hug, and if Marinette melts into his arms—well he's not going to say no to that, not when he's so touch starved.

==–==

 When Dick breaks into the house the next morning to check on Tim, seeing as he never checked out for the night nor did he return to the cave, he finds the two cuddled up together—fast asleep on the sofa. He nabs a spare blanket and pulls it over the two of them, snaps a pic to serve as evidence to Tim being okay, and then skedaddles before either can wake.

==–==

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |