I finally wrote the Lucy Smith is still Alive AU of Eagle Day for @wipbigbang
Project Title: More Than One Type of Wings
Fandom: Foyle's War
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73145741
Summary: A What-if Fic for the episode, Eagle Day, wondering what would have happend if Andrew had been around when Lucy was still alive.
Warnings: Rape/Non Con
Characters: Andrew Foyle, Anne Roberts Lucy Smith, Wing Commander Keller, Group Captain Graeme, Christopher Foyle
Pairings: None, Andrew & Anne Roberts Anne Roberts Lucy Smith
When I Started: Gah, I forget
How I Lost My Shit: Had a few thousand words, and thought I needed the push to get it done.
How I Finished My Shit:** With difficulty and a frantic scrabble- not quite happy with it, but it is finished!!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The four Wayne boys entered the gym and found Marinette excitedly stretching as she talked with Tikki about something they were too far away to catch.
“Marinette,” Damian called as he took his place on one side of the large circle mat the boys used as an attempt to soften the blows they landed upon each other. He gave her a brief smile as she made her way over to her place, happy to be the reason she was smiling even if it was because he was about to beat her in a sparring match. She really is the sunshine of Gotham. “How do you want to do this? Single round? Best two out of three?” He wanted her to at least think he was taking this seriously in the hopes that she would actually keep her word and not ask again.
“Multiple rounds are fine with me.”
Damian paused for a moment before looked around and spotted Alfred as he walked by the door. “Alfred will be the judge since he’s the only one in this house who knows how to be impartial.”
“Is anyone in this house really impartial when it comes to anything involving Marinette?” Jason whispered from the sidelines.
“Of course I will be young Master.” The aged butler made his way to the outer edge of the mat. “The victor will be determined after one person wins two out of the three rounds. A round is over when one of you pins your opponent to the ground for three seconds. The person pinned must have both shoulders touching the mat for the entire count in order for the win to count. No moves are off limits, but weapons are not allowed. Both of you must stay inside the outer circle at all times or the round restarts. Forfeiting a round is grounds for an automatic win for the other person. Are you both in agreement with these rules?” He looked at both his charges and held a hand up in the air as they nodded. “Are you ready then?”
“Yes.” Damian rolled his neck side to side and shook out his arms to release some of the tension. He needed to move quickly but accurately to make sure he didn’t actually hurt her while winning.
“Oh, wait!” Marinette squeaked before leaving her place on the mat and running over to the corner where Tikki flitted in the air like a boxing coach.
“Giving up already Marinette?” Dick called.
“Don’t be scared sweetheart! We’ll make sure he gets what’s coming to him if he roughs you up too much.” Jason laughed as Damian held up his middle finger in his brothers direction.
Marinette simply ignored the brothers calls and thankfully took a hair tie from her kwami’s outstretched paw before tying her hair up in a tight ponytail so none of it fell across her face obscuring her vision. She wouldn’t have spent so much time that morning straightening it if she had known she was going to do this today. Turning back towards the mat, she had another thought and decided to take off her loose cold shoulder top off, revealing the black sports bra underneath. She didn’t want the extra fabric there to impede her movements or allow Damian to get a better grip on her, but she also waited a second to appreciate that her action had served another purpose of bringing a small amount of pink to Damian’s cheeks. He refused to make eye contact with her as she jogged back to her place inside the circle. He has no idea what’s about to hit him.
“Now I’m ready,” she smiled and took up her fighting stance, falling so easily into the role of Ladybug that she could almost forget that she wasn’t wearing her spotted suit.
“Let me know if I get too rough Angel.”
“I could ask the same of you.”
He chuckled, the low sound making her shake her head to clear it. “I will keep that in mind.”
Alfred raised a hand and stepped back, knowing it was best to remain out of the way whenever he took up the role of referee. “Ready? Begin.”
Damian moved first, darting forward while aiming to grab her arms, swing her to the ground and quickly end this round without her getting the chance to come after him and accidentally hurt herself. He hadn’t expected her to move quite so fast though, having thought that his girlfriend would remain the clumsy girl he’d gotten to know over the past year that they’ve been together. At least she actually does have some self preservation skills, he thought as she managed to slip behind him. Spinning around, he aimed a kick towards her side, wincing as he felt it connect briefly with her ribs. He really didn’t want to hurt her, but he pushed himself to step forward and jabbed at her, catching the same side with his fist though he made sure to reign in some of the force behind the punch.
She bent down on the mat after his hit and wrapped her arms around herself causing Damian to instantly panic.
“Marinette… Angel, are you okay? Did I hurt you? Do you want to stop?” He reached out to put his hand on her head but she lightly smacked it away and turned her gaze up towards him.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? It’s okay for us to stop now, you did really well. I wasn’t expecting you to get out of the way so fast.”
In her mind Marinette was rolling her eyes, questioning how this boy could seriously think she’d already been injured not even a minute into their first round. If he had been less distracted trying to control himself so he didn’t hurt her, he would have been able to tell that he had barely tapped her and that she was totally playing him. She loved Damian more than life itself, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t judge him for being so obliviously gullible. Time to knock his ego down a few pegs. “It’s fine, really. Let’s keep going.”
“You’re sure?”
“You heard the girl, stop being a pussy and fight your girlfriend like a man!” Jason teased.
“I don’t know if I would use this situation as a testament to his manhood…” Tim sighed.
Damian got back into position as Marinette nodded once more. He caught her eyes shifting to the left of him briefly before her gaze returned to his face so that when she moved her foot to take a step towards him, he was positive she would be aiming for his right. Trying to counter her obvious move, Damian side stepped and kicked towards her middle, once again finding himself surprised when he touched nothing but air as she dodged him. He immediately rebounded and launched a low kick behind him before turning and jabbing at her in successive bursts with each fist. One finally connected and he used the other hand to reach out to grab her arm, forcing her to duck towards the ground as he kicked towards her once more.
Marinette rolled to the right to dodge Damian’s kick, before pushing off the mat in a graceful back handspring and found herself face to face with him, a tiny smile forming as she caught his surprise.
He had not been expecting that move and he sure as hell wasn’t expecting her to sweep his legs out from under him before throwing herself down across his back, holding his shoulders to the mat with a strength he hadn’t known she was capable of possessing in her barely five foot tall frame. Try as he might, Damian found himself unable to raise his body up as she lay with her chest pressed up against him. He faintly noticed that she wasn’t breathing any harder than normal despite his efforts to move.
“One. Two. Three! First round goes to Marinette.” Alfred’s voice brought him out of his daze and he felt Marinette remove herself from the floor and stand up before moving away from him.
“I win!” She proudly exclaimed, waving to his brothers who were cheering her on from the sidelines.
Jason and Dick gave her thumbs up while laughing, knowing full well that Damian had been going easy on her. Still, she did manage to pin me and I didn’t think that was going to happen. I need to put a little more effort into this match than I thought.
“You didn’t win yet Angel, that round was just luck.”
“Well luck is kinda my thing so…” she winked and stuck her tongue out at him as he resumed his place across from her.
“Round two.” Alfred stepped back once more and lowered his arm. “Begin.”
Wanting to keep Damian on his toes, Marinette decided to strike first launching a punch towards his face with a high kick to follow.
Just as her toes connected with his cheek, Damian pushed her leg away with enough force to spin her around and swept a low kick to knock her off balance. Once again, she managed to somehow dodge him by using the momentum to jump over his kick like she was playing jump rope. Not willing to let her get behind him this time, Damian grabbed her shoulders and pulled her forward, causing the heroine to lose balance and fall into him.
She lifted her knee, aiming for his crotch, but Damian expected the move from her being held in this position and grabbed ahold of her hands to spin her around so her back was facing him. Dodging a headbutt and before she could launch a backward kick, he gently lowered her to the ground in front of him and used a knee to hold her shoulders down. She reached a leg backwards to kick him off, but was too short to actually connect with any part of his body. Damian, being the man that he was, couldn’t help but notice her high level of flexibility. Muttering a curse as he felt her start to sit up, he, once again, gently applied pressure to the back of her neck with his hand to keep her face down on the floor.
“Winner, Damian!”
He stood up and extended a tanned hand down to help her to her feet and then stroked her cheek, tucking a stray strand of dark hair back behind her ear so it no longer fell across her face. “Guess your luck ran out, huh?” He smiled and leaned in to plant a small kiss on her forehead, but she stepped back and looked at him with a single eyebrow raised.
“That’s what you think.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that she is completely screwing with you.” Tim’s laughter echoed through the gym, earning him a glare from the youngest Wayne.
“Excuse me?”
“Dude, she totally let you win that round.” Dick chimed in, already regretting his decision in the bet they had made. Marinette definitely had some hidden skills.
“Girl’s a freaking hustler!” Jason joined in on their teasing.
“What?” He turned from his brothers and found Marinette looking up at him with the face of an angel. “Are they serious?” She just kept looking at him with her eyes wide, lashes fluttering with feigned innocence. I just got played. “Weren’t you the one begging to see how you’d fair in a fight against me? Why would you purposely hold back?”
“I could ask you that same question.” She raised her hands up in exasperation. “You didn’t even try in the first round!”
“I didn’t want to hurt you anymore than I already had after that first kick!”
“You barely touched me and even if you had hurt me, I’m a big girl and I can handle a little pain.“ She felt her cheeks flush with anger as she moved back into her starting position. Chat had underestimated her back in France and it had led to him purposely throwing himself into danger more often than naught to keep her out of reach of the akumatized victims. She still firmly believed that his arrogance was the reason why it had taken so many years for the heroes to defeat and capture Hawkmoth and she wasn’t going to have a repeat of that situation here with Damian or the rest of the heroes of Gotham. She would show them that Marinette/Ladybug was an ally worth having around and not just some trinket they could keep in their back pockets for safe keeping. "Stop acting like I didn’t save Paris thousands of times, often on my own, over the last 3 years, nearly singlehandedly defeating a super-terrorist, and start treating me like you would anyone else you were practicing against!”
“You know what? Fine.” He let his mask as the Prince of Assassins fall into place and moved to face her on his starting mark. He would appease her curiosity, giving her everything he had from his seventeen years of training, and then tend to her wounds, both physical and emotional after the last round was over. “But I’m never doing this again.”
“As long as you take it seriously this time around, I’ll keep my promise and never ask again. But if you’re too scared to actually fight me, I’d forgive you. I won’t love you any less because of it.” Her smile was almost feral-something she had picked up from having Chat as her partner for so long- as she lowered herself into her fighting stance once more. She really hoped he wouldn’t hold back now. If she didn’t beat him when he was actually trying, he would never be able to let himself focus on anything else but her safety when they were out on patrol. More than her desire to be taken seriously and be respected for the hard work she had put in to be the hero she was, Marinette didn’t want to see Damian/Robin injured because he was trying to prevent harm from befalling her.
“While I appreciate how cute it is that you think you’re the scariest thing I’ve faced, I am absolutely not going to back down. I won’t be taking it easy on you this time either. Just remember to tell me if I’m too much for you to handle Angel.” He smirked and waved Alfred forward, eager to end this. The sooner she realized that he was there, willing and able, to protect her, the sooner they could go back to normal and stop the only disagreement the two of them had.
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
Alfred cleared his throat, briefly drawing the pairs’ eyes away from each other. “Round three. Winner decides the match’s victor.”
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I feel that there is a bird in my chest.
and it beats against the ribcage that holds it captive
and it calls to be set free
But alas I lost the key
When I met you.
And sometimes
It feels that you can reach into my chest
and you can still this bird
You stroke it so tenderly
You calm it
and you set it free.
But sometimes
you reach into my chest
and you strangle it
and it beats its wings against your hold
but it is powerless
suffocating.
But if you release your grasp eventually,
and lie it back in its cage
I will go on living.
But should you set it free
Let it fly
Let it soar
And then put a bullet through its chest
I will not.
