Day 26 and I have to dedicate this one to my very first Maribat friends @psychicdelusionwerewolf & @mrsjacuinde
Prompt is Robin, My Heart and it's a prequel to my Lost in Paris fic!
@maribat-calendar-events
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Damian had been in Paris for several months and not much had changed. He spent his money frugally but he had yet to find a job so his cache was dwindling nonetheless. He also had yet to find a sparring partner to keep himself in fighting fit form, and it irked him.
He was playing with his phone, looking at the three contacts he had gained in his time. Two were perfunctory, the gym manager and the landlord, but the third was the woman who had helped apprehend the purse snatcher he had taken down a month ago.
Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a woman who could take down a grown man without breaking a sweat and had shown she was fit and able. He had only contacted her once or twice, asking for recommendations for things like the gym he now used, or places that sold decent wares at a reasonable price, but now he wondered if she would be open to training with him.
He thought about the man who had welcomed Marinette home on the evening that he had met her, and paused. Would he be overstepping? He had never seen the need to follow societal norms when interacting with women before, but that had mostly been in the realm of vigilantism.
Deciding to throw caution to the wind, he sent a message asking if she would like to go to the gym with him. He was relieved when he received an enthusiastic confirmation in return and was quickly able to agree a time to meet.
He was almost excited as he waited on the sparring mats in the gym. When she entered and shot him a smile, he experienced a strange heart palpitation. He forced his mind away from that and greeted her politely.
Their fast spar was short and brutal. He had not expected her to go as hard and lethally as she did and so he ended up flat on his back, staring at the lights of the gym.
“You know, you don't have to take it easy on me,” Marinette said, grinning down at him. She held out her hand and he accepted it to pull himself to standing.
“You are a very capable sparring partner,” he admitted with a begrudging smile. They started again, Damian trying not to telegraph his moves and Marinette smirking mischievously. It ended the same way as before, again and again until they were both sweating and tired.
“We should definitely do this again,” she said as they exited the gym. They had changed and walked at a leisurely pace along the streets.
“I thought you normally trained with Adrien? He is your boyfriend, isn't he?” Damian asked, though he wasn't sure why he was asking it.
“Ex-boyfriend,” Marinette corrected, a slightly sad smile on her lips. Damian shoved away the thought that he hated it and focused on what she had said.
“If it upsets you that it is over, why did you end things?” He asked, satisfied when her eyes brightened instantly in challenge. And then he was annoyed that it had evoked such a reaction from him.
“How do you know I ended it? Maybe you're just rubbing salt in an open wound.”
“Forgive my bluntness, but he would have to have been an idiot to end things with you.” Damian’s mouth felt dry and his palms slightly sweaty, and it confused him. He wasn't saying anything untrue, Marinette was objectively a beautiful, kind, loving woman, and if Adrien had ended things he should be checked into Arkham.
“Nice that someone sees it that way,” she muttered, though a genuine smile was starting to perk up the corners of her lips. “For the record, he started the talk but I'm the one that decided breaking it off would be the healthiest thing for both of us.”
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng: heartbreaker,” he deadpanned, stomach flipping when she outright laughed. She nudged him as they walked and he pretended to be wounded.
“Marinette Mercy Killer, maybe. Our relationship was limping along by the end, someone had to take it out back and put it out of its misery. Now maybe we can find people who make us thrive and grow, rather than just comfortable.”
“Were you together long?” He was not asking because he was curious, he was asking because it was an expected question in these situations.
“Since we were fifteen,” she said, shivering lightly in the crisp autumn air. Almost without thinking, he shrugged out of his jacket and slung it over her shoulders. She seemed startled by the gesture, but smiled softly as she huddled into its warmth. He tried not to feel too smug when she took a deep breath of his scent.
“That is an impressive length for children,” he agreed. He was confused when she stopped until he realised that they had reached her apartment. “It must be difficult for you now that it is over.”
“It was harder at the beginning,” she said, hands twiddling her keys deftly. Anticipation curled in Damian's gut, even as he tried to curb the thoughts racing through him. She's single, a voice that sounded disturbingly like Dick's said. “But it's been a couple of months, and he's been dating again so maybe it's time for me to try too.”
She means you! That voice sounded like Jason and Damian shoved it aside with the same vigor that he would have done his actual brother. He swallowed as she darted a look up at him, her bottom lip between her teeth. They could be between yours-
“Only you will know when you are ready to try dating again.”
It was such a non-answer that he could see Marinette freezing up before slumping slightly. She gave a light laugh that made his stomach hurt but then she was smiling even more brightly - so brightly he wondered if it hurt her cheeks.
“You're right, of course. Well, thank you for seeing me home, Damian. Here, your jacket,” she said, stripping it off so quickly he could only stand there and blink. “Have a good night, I'll see you around.”
She was past her door before he could find his voice, only shaking out of his internal world when the door clicked softly closed. But he stood there for a lot longer, frowning with his hands clenched around his jacket.
_ _ _
“He gave me a brush off, Chlo,” Marinette said heavily when she had poured herself a large glass of wine and settled down for her regular video call. “I'm getting mixed signals from him, one second he's saying Adrien would be an idiot for breaking up with me, and giving me his jacket and asking how long we were together…and then he's saying I'm the only one who can determine when I should date again! Was I too subtle?”
“Dupain-Cheng, you are a wonderful person but subtlety is not exactly your strength. If he brushed you off then he's not interested. Which works for me because he seems like a class A jerk - which I know a little something about, having been a raging bitch for my formative years.”
“You just don't know him very well,” Marinette sighed, taking a long drink from her glass. “Besides, you turned out okay after spending time with me.”
“Marinette, you are worth more than a bum with no job, no friends and a bad attitude,” Chloé said flatly.
“He's not a bum, he has a home and everything. He even pays to get into the gym! I don't know, maybe I just can't read him as well as I thought I could. It wouldn't be the first time.”
They chatted for a little longer, talking about Chloé's upcoming internship and her course at Metropolis University. She also asked how Marinette's parents were doing and when she was planning to come back for Christmas.
“Okay, it's got to be getting late over there DC. Behave yourself, and try not to give your heart to people who don't deserve it.”
“I never give it, people just steal it,” she whined, her voice slightly slurred from the drink, but only just. “What am I s’posed to do, say ‘hey, no robbin’ my heart’?”
“God you are such a lightweight. Goddammit Marinette, you are French, learn to hold your drink. Talk to you next time, get some sleep you crazy woman.”
“Barely French,” she muttered at the dark screen, sighing and flopping back in her bed. Exhaustion crept over her and she passed out, until Tikki woke her up. The Kwami seemed urgent, but Marinette felt groggy until the League of Shadows was mentioned.
Electrified, Marinette shot out of the bed and almost forgot to call for her transformation before she leapt out of her window. She scanned the shadowy alleys until she spotted a silent scuffle happening.
Releasing the hold her yo-yo had to keep it anchored she plummeted into the fight. She moved swiftly, knocking back the assassins until they arrived at a stalemate. They hissed something at the man they had been attempting to end and vanished into the shadows. She turned to the man only to freeze when she saw who it was
“Thank you, I am out of practice,” Damian gasped, his hand clenched to his side. Marinette started as she saw the blood leaking between his fingers. He saw where her gaze was directed and grimaced. “This is nothing, a light stab wound. My mother just likes to remind me that I am not invulnerable from time to time.”
“...your mother is part of the League of Shadows?” Marinette said, worry and dread making her voice break slightly.
“More like she leads it,” he said grimly, though a wry smirk made her think he was trying to use humour to alleviate the tension.
“I don't know how to process this, so I'm going to put a pin in that so we can get you some medical help,” she said at last, moving towards him.
“I will be fine, I just need to get home,” he gasped. She hesitated for a moment before nodding sharply and leaping to action.
Before she knew it, they were slipping in an open window of his apartment and she was rushing to the bathroom that he indicated a medical kit would be in. She worked fastidiously, stitching the wound and infusing it with some of the Ladybug's miraculous cure to speed along healing. Once finished, she leaned back and looked at him.
“I think now would be a good time for you to explain what's going on, and why you're bringing assassins into my city,” she said when she was sure he wasn't going to die on her.
“I suppose that would be fair,” he conceded, pulling a shirt over his head with barely a wince. “Though I would like to ask my own questions once we are done.”
“You can ask them,” she said, not bothering to say that she might not answer. He nodded before launching into the story of Damian Al Ghul, heir of the demon, son of the bat, who was cast aside by his mother and sent to live with a father who did not choose to have him.
Marinette listened with intense concentration and grew more and more indignant on his behalf. When he explained that he had left home because his father did not trust him she stood up and swore as she started pacing. When he stopped, she looked at him impatiently and gestured for him to continue.
“There is little more to tell you. My mother likes to test her luck occasionally and sends her minions to incapacitate me. Tonight was one such attempt, which I am grateful that you thwarted. May I ask a question now?”
“Sure, I guess that's fair,” she said, hands in her hair as she tried to absorb the information he had thrown at her. “One more from me though - why are you telling me this? I thought you bats were all about secret identities and you kind of just told me who everyone is.”
“You hardly seem the type to use the information for ill gain,” he said, humour sparkling in his eyes. Marinette refused to turn into a puddle at the smirk he was giving her, but it was close.
“But you don't know me! I thought all of you bats were paranoid, antisocial creatures, definitely not the types to trust in someone's good intentions, even if they are fellow heroes.”
“Well that cannot be entirely true,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her. She groaned in frustration but waited. “We must know each other, given I did not direct you to my home and yet here we are.”
“Oh, uh, are you sure you didn't say something?” She said weakly, annoyed with herself for the slip. “You could have been delirious from blood loss and just don't remember.”
“Is that what happened?” He asked archly and she cursed her inability to lie. He smirked again after she was silent for a moment. “I thought so. Regardless, I saw fit to tell you and trust that you will not betray that trust.”
“Of course I won't,” she said immediately, slumping onto his sofa. She muttered, “Spots off,” and felt the magic wash over and out of her. She couldn't look him in the eye but felt him stiffen beside her. “Surprise?”
“I will need a moment,” he said, staring at her. She laughed nervously and fiddled with her hair. “I had not anticipated you being a heroine.”
“I don't suppose that changes your mind about going on a date with me?” She asked without thinking. Blushing to the roots of her hair she decided to play her cards as she'd already tipped her hand. “I mean, we have a lot in common.”
“Ah, yes, so much in common: Ladybug, the heroine of Paris, leader of the Miraculous team and secretly the kindest person in the room at any given time versus the failed Robin who cannot get a job and once held the moniker ‘Ice Prince'. It's a wonder people don't confuse the pair of us.”
“Is that why you won't date me? You think I would hold your past against you? Because the Damian I know is kind, willing to help strangers and walks me home at night to make sure I'm safe. And I'm not sure you can say you're a failure given you weren't kicked out.”
“But they did not come looking for me, did they? It is obvious they felt I made the right choice in leaving it behind.”
“Then they're stupid,” she said bluntly. Exhaustion was making her reckless and she turned to face him, being careful not to jostle his wound. “Damian, I like you. I would like to go on a date with you, and see if there's something more to this. I was a coward and implied that I wanted to date you before, but I'm asking you now, yes or no, do you want to go on a date with me.”
“Only an idiot would say no, but Marinette-”
“And you're not an idiot,” Marinette said sharply, tracing the outline of his face with a finger. “Give me a chance to prove this could work.”
“One date?” He asked cautiously and she beamed at him. He smiled back at her, though much more subdued. “And if it does not work out, we can continue as friends?”
“If, but I have a good feeling about this,” she yawned and stretched. “Mind if I crash here for the next couple of hours? I was drinking earlier and my head is already starting to kill. Plus, I'm on hand if you need any more help or protection.”
