Day 10 of Nonsense November sees a new fic!
@maribat-calendar-events
Link to AO3
Marinette stared in horror at the spreading stain on the painstakingly sequined outfit she had just been checking over before sending Jagged the ‘all done’ text. She'd thought that, after moving to Gotham in an attempt to distance herself from the horrors of Paris, she would have grown out of her clumsiness. But apparently no, she was still just as much of a disaster at nineteen as she was at fifteen and she was going to have to find a dry cleaner before the end of the week if Jagged wanted to get his outfit on time for his concert next week.
“Merde,” she swore, wishing she still had all of her things from Paris. She hadn't wanted to move it all right at the beginning because she didn't know if she'd be staying or not, and the thought of having to leave everything suddenly with no chance of retrieving it was unbearable. “Merde, merde, merde!”
The computer groaned as it booted up, reminding Marinette that she'd had the same one since she was thirteen and really should upgrade it. Making a mental note to talk to Max later for advice, she drummed her fingers on the desk and waited impatiently for the browser to open. At last, she pondered the list of local dry cleaners the search engine coughed up and dismissed the first two for the abysmal rating and look of the store fronts.
The third made her pause, the ratings average enough that she figured it was mostly a customer service issue; which was fine, she didn't need to be treated like a person as long as they fixed her screw up. The first dozen or so reviews solidified that belief and she scribbled the address onto her hand before grabbing everything she needed and praying to whoever might be listening that this went smoothly.
_ _ _
Jason was a practical guy. Growing up in Crime Alley as an unwanted kid did that to you, and dying and being resurrected probably helped too. Maybe if he’d been raised in a normal family, he’d be every bit as corrupt as the rest of Gotham, but instead he was determined to make the streets safer for kids like he was. And maybe a little bit to make a point to Bruce. Okay, a lot. He had a lot of pent up anger about the whole Joker being alive thing and he wasn’t about to let it destroy him from the inside.
So his first move was to clean up the gangs and pull them into his own employment. And to do that, he needed to send a message and the message was lieutenant heads. Most of them had been collected but the next was currently at one of his money laundering businesses and he was going to need to stop there to catch him. It was a cleaning service, a pretty quiet one given that it didn’t really have much foot traffic.
Imagine his surprise when - after disabling all of the cameras, catching the lieutenant and getting him tied up - the door opened and someone started ringing the bell on the desk. Knocking out the lieutenant for the meantime, he cursed as he considered whether he wanted anyone to know that Red Hood was in the establishment. If it was someone working for the dry cleaning business, they wouldn’t be ringing the bell, so he hardly wanted to tip his hand so early. So his helmet had to come off…but then he ran the risk of either being recognised or being caught unawares without the enhanced vision the helmet gave him.
“Excuse me, I’m so sorry to bother you, but it’s a fabric emergency,” a female voice with a French accent called through from the front, and Jason made the choice. The woman looked relieved to see him when he appeared, shoulders relaxing as she smiled hopefully at him. “Merci, I really did not want to try any of the other establishments around here. The online reviews were…anyway, you do not want my life story, but I need this coffee stain cleaned out of this jacket as soon as possible, please.”
“That is quite the suit jacket,” Jason whistled, raising an eyebrow at her. The nervous look came back to her face, though this one was slightly shiftier, like she was hiding something. It was intriguing and he wanted to dig into her brain, find out what she was trying to conceal. Instead, he smiled as disarmingly as he could and said, “Your boyfriend has some interesting tastes.”
“My uncle- my boss- uh, I’m making it for someone,” she stammered, flushing as she looked fully away from him. “Um, no boyfriend, I don’t…I’m making it for my job.”
“Pretty little thing like you, no boyfriend? Got a girlfriend, then?” he asked, a thrill running through him when she blushed even harder and shook her head. He leaned forward onto the counter separating them and gave her a full once over, eyes lingering on her flushed cheeks and neck. “So, you’re here for work, and need that cleaned. Unfortunately, our cleaner is kinda tied up with something right now, and I don’t have the technical knowhow to help.”
“I know how to clean it!” she blurted, sounding desperate. “Please, I need to get this sent off by the end of the week, my computer is practically useless and I don’t have time. If you just fetch me the tools, I can do it right here and now and pay for it! Please.”
Jason hesitated before nodding jerkily. She instructed him on what to grab and he brought it all over to her, watching her every move even as he kept half an eye on the lieutenant to make sure he wasn’t stirring. The squeal of joy she let out when she lifted the garment up made him jump before he laughed at her excitement.
“Thank you, so, so much! Oh, how much do I owe you?” she asked, eyes bright and sparkling as she looked up at him.
“On the house,” he said easily, holding his hands up when she started to protest. “Look, I didn’t do anything except hand you the stuff you asked for. And the owner isn’t going to care that I let you do it, so don’t worry about it, alright? I’m pretty sure he said the place was closing down for renovations soon anyway, so you might want to find a new dry cleaner for the next time.”
“Believe me, I shall probably be asking my parents to ship my own things to me,” she grimaced. “Or I shall try and find replacement items somewhere nearby. But thank you anyway, I really appreciate your help! What’s your name?”
“Jason,” he replied without thinking, too caught up in her infectious joy to think of lying, or making up another name. “But, like I said, I don’t work here. I’m just helping out for the afternoon.”
“I’m Marinette,” she said with a soft smile, before her phone made a buzzing noise and she swore in French. “I have to go, I have a call with my uncle in ten minutes and I shall need to be home before I take it. I hope to see you around, Jason.”
His stomach squirmed as she waved goodbye and he had to remember to hop the counter to lock the door and change the sign to closed before he put his game face - and helmet - back on.
