Day 1 of Maribat March! A six chapter story, Storms Coming, I Can See The Clouds
@maribatserver
Link to AO3
Marinette stared at the box sitting on her desk in confusion. It hadn’t been there when she’d left for school, she was sure. And her maman hadn’t said anything about leaving jewellery for her to find, so she didn’t understand how it had gotten there. Frowning in concentration, she lifted the box delicately, after checking to make sure there wasn’t any sort of trip wire attached to it, and turned it over carefully. It was a pretty box, hexagonal and black with an intricate red design on top, and seemed heavier than it looked.
Briefly, she debated calling for her mother but decided against it. They’d been in Paris for over four years now, if someone had managed to find them, she doubted they would have simply left a jewellery box for her to find. Unless it was poisoned, but she was going to wash her hands thoroughly as soon as she figured out what this was all about.
Taking a deep breath, she flipped the top of the box and flinched when a ball of light appeared out of nowhere. When it looped around her and morphed into a tiny black cat with terrifyingly luminous green eyes. The creature rolled over in the air and stared at her, and it took everything inside her not to throw something at it, or try to trap it somehow. It might be her first time encountering such a creature but it was hardly as though she had a normal childhood, so she mustered her best glare and waited.
“Hey, you’re a cool customer, aren’t ya?” the cat thing said, and Marinette bit back the urge to scream and run for her maman. What the hell was this thing? Instead of answering it, she maintained her silence and narrowed her eyes to let it know she wasn’t to be messed with. “What, you don’t even have any questions about what I am, why I’m here? Come on, show me some chaos!”
“Are you always this energetic?” she asked at last, unable to keep the distaste out of her voice. Sure, she liked high energy animals, and had even been considered bubbly from a young age, but she was determined to establish dominance in whatever strange relationship dynamic this was about to be. Because the creature was definitely trying to get her enthused about something, she just didn't know what.
“...no? I'm actually considered the lazier of the pair,” it admitted, turning right side up to inspect her more closely. Pair? she thought but didn't say. If she started questioning it, it would know that she was curious and that would give it leverage. “Name's Plagg, by the way. Congratulations, you've been selected as the black cat to partner with the ladybug of this generation. You'll fight heroically as a being of destruction and defeat the nemesis currently turning people into stone-”
“What? No. No no no no no,” she said immediately, horror dawning on her as she realised what this was leading to. Plagg gave her a curious look, as though he had been expecting her to jump at throwing herself in the line of fire! “I'm not the type of girl that fights villains. Cripes, I grew up in a hive of villains - well, not, you know, H.I.V.E. but - I am not who you need in some kind of dynamic duo, leading the charge against a maniac. Call the Justice League or something, I'm just a normal girl, with a totally normal life.”
“Gotta say kid, I was not expecting you to say no,” Plagg mused, somehow raising an eyebrow even though she didn't think it - he? It felt rude to keep calling Plagg an it - had eyebrows. “But time is kind of a factor right now, and you're the one holding my box. Maybe we can talk about this later?”
“So I can't return you to sender? Fine, what about just- just giving you to someone that would do a better job?” she tried, desperately searching for an alternative. Why was this her life? She was finally at the point where she thought she could reasonably push back against Chloé for being a brat without turning into a monster, giving her the power to destroy things just seemed like a bad idea. “Hell, I bet there's someone in the bakery right now that would do better! Like, I don't know, an adult?”
“I mean technically there's nothing stopping you from giving the power of complete destruction to any random passerby, but in the wrong hands I have been known to sink cities,” shrugged Plagg, grinning toothily at her. There must have been an extremely comical look of despair on her face, to match how she was feeling, because a hissing laugh emitted from the creature's mouth. “Or you could accept that you just need to go out, beat up the baddie and save the day. So, whaddaya say, kid? Wanna wreak some havoc?”
“I can't believe I'm even considering this,” she muttered, slipping the black, chunky ring onto her right hand ring finger and almost jumping back when it began to change shape to something more delicate and simple. The only notable part of it was the tiny, almost invisible engraving of a paw print in the centre of it. “What else do I need to know?”
“I thought you'd never ask,” Plagg purred, settling onto her shoulder before beginning.
_ _ _
The fight wasn't awful. It wasn't great, but it wasn't the worst fight she'd ever been in, so there was that. The ladybug holder, Coquille Rouge as he called himself, was overexcited and seemed to think being a magical boy was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Which, you know, maybe it was! But Marinette had a completely ordinary life and that was what she wanted, so this was nothing but a huge mistake. If someone she had never met had decided she could wield the power of destruction, surely she could delegate to someone she had known for, say…a day?
Alya was the perfect choice to be the black cat miraculous holder. She had a sense of righteousness, she hated bullies, and she stood up for who she perceived to be the weak! Definitely not the type to misuse the power of destruction in a fit of pique, so Plagg’s concerns that he would be used to sink a city - oh, she was absolutely not giving that any more thought than necessary because that would make calling on the Justice League super awkward - were moot. And then she scolded herself because she wasn't going to be involved anymore. So whatever she worked out about Atlantis wasn't going to matter.
“You were amazing, Pigtails,” Plagg said when they were back in her room, twirling lazily through the air. “That finesse, with destroying things? You're a natural! Never had someone use the power without screwing it up the first time, I really lucked out getting-”
“Nuh-uh,” she interrupted, hand propping on her hip and finger pointing at him angrily. “I told you: I'm not cut out for being some kind of magical girl. Even if I wanted to, my history isn't exactly- I was raised in a less moral environment and I don't need the temptation that wielding the concept of destruction would bring. So thank you, but no thank you; next stop, Alya's bag so someone with a steady moral compass can handle you.”
“Wait! I'm not blowing hot air, kid; you really are the best holder for the black cat miraculous right now,” he whined, landing on her nose and practically smothering her as his green eyes pleaded with her. “Come on, give me a week! You won't even notice I'm here most of the time, promise. I won't destroy- well, minimum destruction and only where it won't matter. And you'll need to feed me, to help recharge-”
“Not really selling me on keeping you,” she grumbled, though she also gave in and considered what he was saying. She'd felt powerful, and in control as a heroine, and she'd been instrumental in defeating Stoneheart before he could cause more damage. Coquille Rouge had even said as much, applauding her quick thinking when Alya had questioned them for her blog. “Fine. One week, and if it doesn't work out I don't want you complaining about it, okay? Now, what kind of food do you want?”
“Cheese!” he said immediately, tilting his head in a manner that Marinette just knew would have most people cooing and giving in to his every whim. And really, was she any better than anyone else? Apparently not because instead of questioning why this cat wanted cheese of all things, she loped downstairs and rummaged in the refrigerator for something that might appease the little thing. “If you have something old and runny, like camembert, I will love you for eternity,” he told her helpfully, zooming past her to look for himself.
“I can probably get you brie more easily if you want a rind cheese,” she said, though she did spy a lone box of camembert just as Plagg did. He didn't even hesitate, a small cackle of glee escaping him as he grabbed the lid, threw it aside and ate the entire wheel in one go. “Hey!”
“Mmmmm, fo goooooo,” he said through the mouthful of gooey cheese, making Marinette's nose wrinkle and prompting her to consider buying a more pungent fragrance for her perfume. She was not going to be known as the stinky-cheese-baker girl for the rest of her schooling, no matter how much Plagg wanted the more expensive wheels.
“Glad you enjoyed it because I'm not buying you camembert constantly,” she said, narrowing her eyes at the little beast. “I will buy it as a treat sometimes, but usually it’ll just be brie, or gruyére. Stuff that maman and papa use in the bakery. But variety will be good for you, I’m sure.”
“Fine, I suppose I can’t complain,” he grumbled, curling into a ball on her shoulder and purring again. Marinette really hoped she wasn’t going to regret this, but at least it would only be for a week for now.
_ _ _
Instant regret. Why had she let Plagg convince her that she could do this?
It had been fine, all the way up until Ivan got reakumatised. A thing that could apparently happen. Even better, there were more of him. Coquille Rouge hadn’t captured the stupid freaking butterfly so now they had to fight a hundred of the creatures. Talking to her partner in heroism didn’t alleviate her regret; he didn’t even listen to his kwami when she was explaining his powers. It sounded like he was her polar opposite with how much he wanted to be a hero, which was definitely going to make things…interesting.
Somehow, they pulled it off again, but then the butterflies coalesced into some freakish face, and Coquille Rouge made a bold declaration about protecting Paris that Marinette actually thought was pretty cool. She just wished he hadn’t named her as his partner in accomplishing the task of removing the tyrant called Hawkmoth.
Sure, she could still give up the ring, hand it off to someone else and run into the sunset to resume her completely ordinary life, but the guilt might cripple her. Coquille Rouge had given her such a hopeful look that she couldn’t think about giving Plagg away without picturing Coquille crying. Fabulous. Plagg seemed to know it somehow, too, his smug little face floating around as he devoured a piece of brie and settled on a perch on her desk.
“Are we seriously going to pretend that this is my life now?” she burst out, glaring at her sketchbook as if it was to blame for all of it. “I can’t do this, I can’t be a superheroine just because some power-that-be wanted me to. I’m supposed to be living my best life! I started standing up to Chloé today! I told her off for putting gum on my chair, and made a new friend! I shouldn’t have to-”
“Come on, kid, this is only day one of the week,” Plagg said, leaping up and spiralling through the air towards her. “Take it one day at a time. Really a week isn’t even that long, we should give it a month or a year-”
“No, screw this, I'm not giving up my last year of collége just to become some cliché magical girl,” she growled, stalking out of her room and towards the kitchen where she knew her maman was currently making dinner.
“Look, pigtails, I'm not saying today wasn't difficult, but you can't give up just-” Plagg began, and she thought he sounded panicked, but she cut him off.
“I'm not giving up - I'm calling in a favour,” she sniffed, shushing him as she turned to her maman and pulling a pigtail nervously. “Maman, I need to contact auntie Talia.”
Day 3 of Maribat March! And chapter 3 of Storm's Coming
@maribatserver
Link to AO3
The second akuma Hawkmoth sent out - if she wasn't counting Ivan's reakumatisation, which she wasn't - was vaguely terrifying both in concept and execution. Aurora had a bad day and got turned into a literal weather girl. How was Marinette supposed to fight against a storm? And to top it off, her maman’s friend had needed her to babysit so she couldn't even just disappear to transform. Manon truly tested all of Marinette's patience since leaving the League on a normal day, so this was about ten million times worse.
To add to the stress, her phone was chiming nearly constantly with messages from Alya about the new akuma. Her parents had come up to check on her briefly but after that she had been left alone with Manon and no way to run away and deal with it. But then her phone chimed again and she decided she was going to mute it until she could get away - after she checked this last message.
Why are you not aiding Coquille with the akuma?
Well that wasn’t who she expected to see messaging her. How did Damian know that she wasn’t out and about with Plagg, and why was he pestering her about it? The last time he’d messaged was to let her know that he was working on getting the Justice League to them but then he hadn’t done any follow up. Her eyes narrowed and she typed without really thinking about it, sending it before jumping after Manon who was jumping everywhere.
I'm babysitting! You want me to leave a seven-year old alone during something like this? Maybe if you'd hurry up and get the JL involved I wouldn't need to be!
There was a pause after she sent that, the bubbles indicating that he was typing only to disappear before starting again. It wasn't like she wasn't anxious to be out there too; Aurora was her friend, Manon's maman worked at the TV station that was under siege, she had a personal stake in this beyond just not wanting to leave her superhero partner on his own. She chewed her lip as she tried to think of how she could get away without compromising her identity but, just like for the previous half an hour, she came up blank.
So when her phone buzzed she half hoped he would have some genius solution for her. If there was anyone she trusted to come up with something that would work, it would be Damian. She also remembered vividly some of his…less fabulous plans that she had to rescue for him, so even if he sent her something absurd it might trigger an actual plan. Instead, she was just confused and a little concerned.
Understood.
Foreboding swept over her and she tried to call him but he was either ignoring it or had left the phone so he could do something else. Glancing at Manon, she decided that maybe she should check in with Nadja to see if she could take her daughter back yet. Just in case.
_ _ _
“Oh come on,” she screamed in frustration when Manon got trapped in a box of ice. In some wild twist of fate, Alya had shown up at the same time as Marinette and Manon, and now both she and the little girl were on one side of the ice while Marinette was on the other. “Manon, are you okay?”
“I'm fine,” she replied, though there was a definite tremble to her lower lip that Marinette recognised as the beginnings of a full meltdown. Deserved or not, Marinette couldn't even get to her to comfort her so she was relieved when Alya scooped the girl into her arms and shooed Marinette.
“Go, see if you can find out what's taking the heroes so long,” said Alya, tweaking Manon's pigtail. “We'll see if we can get out of here before you manage. What do you think, Manon, if we race Marinette and the heroes, do you think we would win?”
Mildly reassured, and knowing that she was needed, Marinette nodded once before racing into the building to transform. Once that was done, it didn’t take long for her to work out where the akuma was and she raced for the broadcasting room to find Coquille facing off with Aurore’s akumatised form. She was just about to get the upper-hand when something small flew across the room and distracted her, and Marinette glanced over to where it had come from.
“Robin?” she asked, faltering as she reassessed the situation. The Gotham vigilante was balanced on a set of studio lights but jumped over to her when she spoke.
“What happened with your other obligation?” he asked with a hint of suspicion in his voice, and she bristled immediately.
“Being taken care of,” she said stiffly, giving Coquille a tight smile when he raised an eyebrow at her. “Doesn’t matter, we need to get Stormy Weather under control before we can discuss anything else, so can we-”
“I feel like you could maybe explain some of this,” he said, placing a hand on his hip and gesturing for her to speak. Fortunately, Robin stepped in to prevent further questions - at least for now.
“Qitta is correct: explanations after we disarm your Stormy Weather,” said Robin grimly, grabbing Coquille by the waist and throwing him to the side bodily, just as another blast of ice blew through where he had been standing.
“Qitta? Seriously?” she complained, rolling her eyes before leaping straight up to dodge another blast. She really shouldn’t let herself get distracted but she couldn’t let it slide that he was literally calling her ‘cat’ in Arabic. At least he didn’t let her feel like the immature one because he also couldn’t let it slide.
“Did you have a better name ready? I can hardly go around calling you-” he countered, stopping abruptly when she hissed at him. “Tt, you simply do not change, do you. It is little wonder a miniature god of destruction wishes to accompany you-”
“Oh my god, it was one painting-”
“It was a masterpiece-”
“-and we were six, not to mention you had just cut off a chunk of my hair-”
“Hey!” Coquille shouted, looking both disturbed and annoyed, gesturing wildly at the akuma. “Can you table this fascinating conversation for later?”
“Tt, I would much prefer never to discuss it,” Robin grumbled as he executed a perfect backflip and smirked infuriatingly at her again, as if daring her to outperform him. “Regardless, you are correct, Coquille Rouge; what plan did you have in mind?”
Once they had the lucky charm things moved more smoothly, and Marinette - Qitta now, she supposed - breathed a sigh of relief as the swarm of ladybugs that came with the miraculous cure swept over everything and set it right.
“Bien joué,” she and Coquille chorused, cuffing fists before Qitta grabbed Robin and saluted cheerily. “Bye, Coquille! Until next time,” she said, not bothering to wait for a response before leading Robin out of the way. “I have to detransform and talk to a friend quickly, can you try to avoid being seen?”
“I resent the implication that I would be caught when I do not wish to be,” he huffed, but he didn’t waste any time before slinking into the shadows while she ran back to where Alya and Manon were waiting for her.
Once she had seen them both and spoken with Nadja so she could take Manon back, she retransformed and headed up to the roof to locate Robin again. It shouldn’t be hard, she was fairly sure the Bats were known for frequenting rooftops and there was nowhere else for him to go currently. And if she didn’t find him there, she was going to hunt him down so she could berate him for showing up uninvited to her fights.
“Hmph, I suppose it is commendable that you knew to find me on the roof, given how few roofs there were in the League,” he grumbled when she found him standing on the edge of the building. It was unlikely that he would be seen given how high up they were so she didn’t bother to chastise him - yet.
“You talked enough about your papa that I think I would have had to have had a brain injury not to look for you here,” she retorted, hopping onto the ledge and twirling her baton as she walked back and forth. “But you shouldn’t have come to Paris, we have it handled.”
“You are not able to fully handle it if you show up late to the fight,” he said with a sniff, his hand on his sword hilt like he thought she was going to attack him. Which…fair, she might have if she thought it would prove a point. But then someone landed on the opposite end of the roof and they were no longer alone. “Coquille Rouge, thank you for coming back to meet with us.”
“How could I refuse?” replied Coquille drily, nodding to Qitta as they all stood awkwardly. “So…explanations now, right? Because I really don’t understand why Robin showed up to help us defeat an akuma.”
“I would quite like an explanation for that as well,” a low voice said, and Batman materialised out of a shadow. Even knowing that he was just Damian’s father, that the man under the cowl was famously known for being an airheaded CEO, the aura emanating from him was enough to make her squirm. And to want to laugh awkwardly because he was all but glowering at Robin.
“You cannot just run off, Robin,” he growled, glancing at Qitta suspiciously before turning back to his son. “And it seems as though we need to have another conversation about keeping secrets.”
“Tt, it was not precisely a secret,” Robin muttered, grimacing in Qitta’s direction in such a familiar way that she had to strangle the giggle that tried to break free. Coquille was still watching them both curiously but just then more heroes started arriving and their conversation was set aside. She wondered if they should relocate from the top of the TV station but decided that if the ever paranoid Batman was fine with it she had no reason to stress herself out.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet so suddenly,” said Batman when everyone was apparently there. Qitta looked around, noting that Wonder Woman was apparently still away on a mission before she caught sight of Aquaman eyeing her suspiciously. “Obviously, there’s something happening in Paris currently and Robin made me aware that the heroes are requesting assistance. As Wonder Woman is off world, I would like to discuss-”
“What are we even going to discuss right now? Do you not know what horrors are at work here? We should destroy the cat being before it destroys Paris on a whim!” Aquaman interrupted, gesturing towards Qitta. Then he took a giant step back when Qitta narrowed her eyes at him and pointed a finger at him threateningly. “Watch what you are doing! The power of Plagg is not one that should be wielded by anyone, let alone a little girl with delusions of grandeur-”
“I'm beginning to see what Plagg sank your city, fish boy,” she growled, stalking forwards. The only coherent thought in her head just then was that she be remembered as more than a ‘little girl’, and she felt the beginnings of her destructive power stir at her fingertips. Cool, maybe she would be able to destroy things without speaking aloud if she practiced - but she wasn't going to practice! Because she wasn't continuing this, no matter what Plagg waxed poetic about. Breathing deeply, she dispersed the energy and held her hands up before either Coquille or Damian could make her. “Look, the whole reason I asked for this meeting is because I don't want to use the power. Unfortunately, I was chosen and we can't have the Ladybug in circulation without the Black Cat. So can we please get over whatever history any of you have with the jewellery and move on to stopping the butterfly guy?”
“Sounds good,” Coquille interjected before Aquaman could say anything else. “And while I wish that my partner had talked to me before calling in back up, now that you're here I would appreciate whatever help you can offer. Neither of us has any particular training-”
“Tt, Qitta has been well trained from birth,” Robin muttered, scowling when she leaned over and swatted him. “What precisely is the problem? It surely would have become obvious when you next worked together. And you cannot just call her a beast, Aquaman, she is at the very least girl-shaped.”
“Neither of us has any particular training with a Miraculous,” Coquille continued, eyeing Robin with a furrowed brow. “And if you know Qitta’s identity, you should probably steer clear of Paris whilst we’re dealing with Hawkmoth. There’s no telling how quickly you might be akumatised and then he’ll have the information he’s looking for - at least half of it.”
“An excellent point,” Batman agreed, and Qitta couldn’t argue the point when everyone was nodding along. “But we will be able to help from a distance, if that’s acceptable to you both.”
Exchanging a brief look with Coquille, she nodded begrudgingly and suppressed the pout at Robin’s apparent immediate departure. Irritating as he was, she was happy that they were talking again, and he was far cheekier when she couldn’t reach over and stab him for his transgressions. The meeting continued, everyone slightly more focused as Batman directed them, although Aquaman continued to watch her suspiciously, trident at the ready.
Day 4 of Maribat March, Chapter 4 of Storm's Coming
@maribatserver
Link to AO3
It wasn't until the following Monday that Marinette finally talked to Alya again, and the budding reporter was practically foaming at the mouth looking for information. Which she supposed was fair since she hadn't given Alya any sort of update since she whisked Manon back to Nadja and proceeded to have a highly secret meeting that could not be shared. Sue her, she took Sunday for herself and grilled Plagg for everything he knew about Atlantis and what he did there.
“Please, just tell me if you saw them working together,” Alya wheedled when it was lunchtime, her head dropping onto Marinette’s shoulder. “I know you said you got hit by Stormy Weather too, but you must have seen something if you were that close!”
“She got me in the hallway, I could just hear some shouts,” she shrugged, feeling just a little guilty for lying to her. It was necessary, but that didn’t ease the guilt building. “Sorry, Als, I know you want to know more but there’s just nothing I could tell you.”
Alya grumbled as they headed out from the school before Marinette managed to move the conversation forward into discussing Nino’s upcoming appearance on The Challenge. He was excited but nervous, and had invited Alya, Adrien, and Marinette to watch live. Marinette was pretty sure he’d only invited Marinette because he wanted to invite Alya, but she didn’t want to out his probable crush so she stayed quiet. The conversation halted abruptly when they stepped into the sunshine and there was someone waiting for her.
The man standing at the bottom of the steps leading to her school was instantly familiar, even after four years. More recognisable than Damian, even, because he didn’t have as much room for growth since he beefed up as part of his resurrection and training in the League. His dark hair was marred by a single streak of white and Marinette paused for only a moment before moving towards him.
“Jay?” shrieked Marinette, barreling down the steps and onto the tall man. It was a testament to his control that he didn't immediately flip her onto the pavement, and she beamed at him as she dangled on his arm. “Oh, it was such a bad idea to send you but I'm so happy to see you! Did you miss me?”
“Hey squirt,” he laughed, grabbing hold of the back of her jacket to remove her from his person. “Heard you made quite the impression on someone I know. I'm definitely happy your claws are still sharp, even after a few years of normal life.”
“Yeah, because Damian's such a softie,” she scoffed, wriggling in his grasp until she could cling onto the arm that had hold of her. She could feel his exasperation at her antics, even before he gave a light shake to try and dislodge her; not that it worked. “Where is he? I know you didn't come here without him, not when I called him first.”
“Tt, Marinette, get down from there,” a surly voice said from out of her field of vision, and she squealed again as she leapt down from her perch and abruptly tackled her friend. Annoyingly, he didn't budge, his mass just slightly bulkier than hers. “For the love of- that was not an invitation to invade my personal space.”
“Respect your elders,” she scolded in return, the effect ruined slightly by her face being smushed into his shoulder. But it meant that he couldn't see her grin when he sighed heavily.
“There are sixteen days separating our births, I hardly consider you-” he huffed, but she shoved a hand over his mouth to shut him up.
“But those sixteen days exist, so I’m definitely your elder,” she admonished, yanking her hand back when he licked it. “Yech! Since when are you such a grub? That is not acceptable behaviour-”
“Tt, I have been learning how to retaliate to others whilst living with my father,” he sniffed, smirking until she wiped her hand on his jacket. “You really ought to fear me more than you do, Marinette.”
“You know these two?” Alya called from where Marinette had left her, eyebrows raised as she watched their interactions. “I mean, obviously you do, but do you think you can explain to the rest of us who they are?”
“Oh! Yeah, sure,” she said amiably, waving Alya over. “Alya, the tall one is Jason, and the baby-”
“Sixteen days,” growled Damian petulantly, pushing her when she smirked at him unrepentantly.
“-the baby is Damian. Damian, Jason, this is my best friend, Alya,” she continued, taking great delight in knowing that Damian also couldn't pull a knife in full view of all of these civilians. Additionally, Jason looked exasperated so that was a bonus. “Sorry, Als, is it okay if I catch up with you later? They’re old family friends and I haven’t had the chance to talk to them in years.”
“Sure,” Alya nodded, eyes narrowed thoughtfully at the pair, but Marinette didn’t hesitate to shepherd the pair across the road to the bakery. Damian was still grouching when they passed the threshold only to stop talking immediately when they got a look at who was waiting for them.
“Bonjour, Monsieur Wayne,” Marinette said politely, moving past him to greet her maman before darting a look back to Damian and Jason. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“Maybe we should take a break for lunch,” her maman said with a brief smile. “Tom, will you be okay while I take everyone upstairs?”
“No problem, mon amour,” her papa boomed, and the rest of them made their way up to the apartment. It was stressfully silent as her maman prepared tea and snacks for everyone, Damian taking a seat on one side of the sofa with Marinette, and Jason on the other. Bruce didn’t take a seat, hovering by the staircase up to her room and watching her suspiciously until he finally spoke.
“It was a surprise to learn my son had a friend in Paris from when he was living with his mother,” said Bruce mildly, though his eyes were extremely focused on her maman. “I take it you are also acquainted with Talia?”
“We have a not insignificant amount of history,” her maman said coolly, passing a treat to Damian as she did so. And, of course, Marinette couldn’t let him eat it alone so she dug her fork into the side of it before he could take a bite. “Marinette, you know there are more ready in the other room.”
“Damian’s happy to share,” she beamed, stuffing the forkful into her mouth even as he scoffed and moved his plate away from her. “I said, you’re happy to share, right?”
“Careful, or I may decide that you no longer care for your appendages and remove one for you,” he snarled, though there was no real heat in it and she managed to snag another bite. “Why are you incapable of walking five feet and getting your own food?”
“Why should I have to?” she retorted, poking him with the fork while her maman just sighed and rolled her eyes. “You’ll get as fat as your head if you eat the whole thing, you’ve never been able to handle a whole one-”
“I’ve never had the opportunity because your greedy fingers are always in my dessert!” he snapped back, retaliating by shoving her harshly away. “Go and get me a new one, you may finish this one-”
“Oi, brats, reign it in a sec,” Jason boomed, immediately silencing the pair and making Bruce look at him sideways as well. “Marinette, go get him a new one-”
“Ha!” laughed Damian victoriously, only to be shut up in the next second.
“-and Damian go get me one,” Jason added loudly and pointedly, making Marinette smirk victoriously. “Honestly, you'd think you'd have grown out of this by now.”
“She's the older one,” Damian muttered, but he stood up and shuffled after Marinette to the kitchen. By unspoken mutual agreement, they didn’t fight while in the kitchen or while transporting the food back to the living area but, as soon as they were seated again, took every opportunity to try and get food down each other’s clothes. The adults around them all seemed more than happy to ignore them as long as they weren’t being loud, so it became a challenge of who could eat more of their pastry while knocking the other one enough to cause them to drop theirs.
“Seriously, knock it off,” Jason glared, knocking Damian’s leg and managing to make him drop a forkful of his dessert and Marinette almost shrieked in triumph. “Oh for the- Nette, kid, you’re not a winner here. You called us in because of the butterfly freak-”
“Is that why you wanted Talia’s number?” Sabine asked, her eyebrows raised slightly as she looked at Marinette.
“Oh, um, yes,” she stammered, glancing at Damian pleadingly. “I just…I don’t want to live in Paris with that hovering over me-”
“Marinette was concerned for her classmate,” he interrupted, his loyalty automatic and complete. “He was akumatised first, and Marinette reached out to me to discuss how we might assist in capturing the villain-”
“Just gonna leave out the fact that Nette’s running around with a tail?” Jason interjected, making Marinette sigh and close her eyes. “What? There’s absolutely zero chance that you were gonna be able to hide it from Mme. Cheng, she might as well help out.”
_ _ _
“Well that was a fun hour,” Marinette muttered as she and Damian walked back towards the school together. After her maman had gotten over the surprise that she was one of the heroes of Paris, there had been a lengthy discussion on what the Waynes were planning to do to help. He hummed in agreement, slowing as they stood outside the school to say goodbye. “Jason’s in so much trouble for telling maman about everything.”
“Tt, he was correct in saying that she would have worked it out eventually,” he countered, pulling his phone out to check something. “Father will likely have already set up an operation centre for us to work from while in Paris, would you like to join us for a meeting this evening? I imagine there will be much you can tell us about what to expect.”
“There have been two akumas, I really don’t know basically anything more than you do,” she sighed, hand dropping to her purse where Plagg had spent the day hiding. “But we can’t talk about it here, so I’ll swing by the hotel later. Try not to get akumatised in the meantime because you know way too much. See you later!”
He grunted a farewell and she ran into the building, aware that she was running late again. Fortunately, she slid into her seat with a couple of seconds to spare and Alya laughed at her as she rested her head on the desk with another sigh.
“Are you okay, Marinette?” Adrien asked her, his voice politely curious. She nodded and groaned, and he hummed thoughtfully before speaking again. “Were those guys your cousins or something? You seemed to know them really well.”
“No, not really,” she said, lifting her head up and glancing to the front to see if Madame Bustier was ready to start the lesson. “We just grew up together, that’s all. At least, Damian and I did. Jason’s just his older brother, but he didn’t live there until we were, like, seven.”
“Oh, like Chloé and I are friends,” he nodded in understanding, and Marinette couldn’t help the way her nose wrinkled in distaste. “I know you don’t get along with her but she’s my oldest friend and-”
Whatever he’d been about to say was lost when their teacher finally called for order, and Marinette forgot the conversation pretty quickly, considering what else she had going on. For example: Plagg was making a whining noise and she had to shake her bag lightly to shut him up, which made Alya look at her strangely.
About halfway through the lesson, Marinette suddenly realised that it had been the week she and Plagg had negotiated for her to try and be the Black Cat. The rest of Madame Bustier’s lesson went straight over her head as she tried to sort out how she now felt about the idea of remaining as Qitta. On one hand, far more people than she had ever intended to know suddenly had her secret identity. On the other…she was getting used to having the kwami around. And she got to work with Damian again, which she wasn’t sure she necessarily categorised as a positive but it was definitely a factor.
She would have to have that conversation with Plagg when she got home, she realised. But for now she needed to convince Alya she wasn’t going crazy and just smacking her bag around for no reason.
Day 6 of Maribat March and the final chapter of Storm's Coming!
@maribatserver
Link to AO3
There was silence after Marinette relayed everything that had happened in the fight with Jacques-a-dit to the Waynes, and she was relieved that Talia had taken up the offer to visit her maman because she did not want to lie her way through an explanation of her ‘front row view’. As it was, Damian, Bruce and Jason were all listening with pensive looks on their faces while she babbled away about her thoughts. Over-talking was a bad habit she had picked up in the past four years, silence reminding her of how different she was to everyone else she went to school with.
“Well, it looks like we have someone to start with,” Bruce said gravely, pulling his tablet out from somewhere - Marinette didn’t know where and she wasn’t going to ask - and showing her a profile he had been making on Hawkmoth. “Do we have any idea what his motivation might be?”
“That’s easy: his wife,” she replied instantly, getting her phone out and pulling up the articles on Emilie Agreste, the deceased matriarch of the Agreste household. “I’d bet Damian’s katana that he wants to bring her back from the dead, though nobody knows how exactly she died.”
“You are not allowed to wager other people’s things!” Damian snapped, though he took her phone to peruse the information she offered. “Hm. It doesn’t say here that she died-”
“Yeah, probably because they couldn’t locate the body, but she was sick before she went missing and there are a lot of conspiracy theories out there about what Gabe did with it,” she said, voice dropping low as she really got into the swing of things. “Some people have been speculating that he’s got her on ice, like Walt Disney. Others say he’s keeping her in a glass coffin, like Snow White. And some,” she added dramatically, grinning internally when Damian’s eyebrows rose, “think that she’s just being held somewhere because she didn’t die but she tried to leave. And now Gabe has her imprisoned in a basement or something.”
“Yeah, their son, Adrien, goes to school with me and mentioned that his maman passed away last year,” she said, shrugging nonchalantly. “So I guess she died and now Gabe wants her back, found the butterfly miraculous and figured that was the way to get her back. Honestly, it’s like he’s never watched a horror movie!”
“As if you have,” snorted Damian, voice moving into a falsetto. “‘Damian, you’ll tell me when the scary bit is over, right?’ ‘Jason never said there were clowns in this one!’”
“Shut up! I was nine,” she complained, a dagger slipping out of her sleeve and nicking his upper arm before he could move out of the way. A victorious smirk spread across her face until he retaliated by launching himself at her and tried to put her in a headlock. Neither of them heard Bruce’s drawn out sigh and it didn’t end until Jason pulled them bodily apart and Marinette had a new cut on her shoulder blade.
_ _ _
After a couple of days of planning, the Waynes and Marinette had a plan for getting more information about Gabriel Agreste, and would hopefully be able to confirm whether he was Hawkmoth soon. There wasn’t much for Marinette or Damian to do, considering their age, but she was going to try and gain access to the Agreste mansion through Adrien if the opportunity presented itself. They hadn’t clued Coquille Rouge into what they were doing yet, Marinette successfully convincing them that they should wait until they had concrete proof one way or the other so they didn’t waste his time. Damian looked at her suspiciously when she diverted them from the original plan of updating him at each new lead but he didn’t bring it up in front of Bruce or Jason, of which she was grateful.
“Yo, Pigtails, didn’t someone say there were class president elections today?” Plagg asked from his cat bed that Marinette had made from spare fabric and filled with offcuts. When she grunted an affirmative, he opened a lazy eye and cocked his head at her. “Didn’t Glasses ask if you were going to run for it?”
“I mean, she didn’t ask if I was going to run specifically,” she hedged, wincing at the memory of that conversation. Chloé was the forerunner, as usual, and Alya hadn’t been able to understand how she had been the class president for the past three years running. As if she didn’t use similar tactics to her papa, the mayor of Paris. Nobody else wanted the role if it meant crossing Chloé, and Marinette didn’t want to resort to underhanded tactics to bring her down a peg. “Besides, don’t you think I have enough on my plate right now?”
“I mean, you’re pretty sure you know who Hawkmoth is, right? So why not run for class president and knock the blonde brat down a peg,” he cajoled, grinning slyly when she frowned at him. “You gotta admit, knocking her off her high horse would be fun. And then you’d be in charge and nobody could stop you from making adjustments to the class and hierarchy!”
“Plagg, I wouldn’t be running the school or anything,” she said with an eye roll, shaking her head. “I’d just be in charge of some boring stuff, like submitting the class forms for the end of the year, and organising events. Taking class complaints, that sort of thing.”
“Bleh, boring!” Plagg said, jumping up and flying over to her hair. “What are you making, anyway?”
“Diary lockbox,” she replied, showing him how she’d designed the trapbox so that if anyone tried to read her thoughts - Damian - they’d end up stuck instead. She had better access to materials than she’d had in the League, and she was older so she was much more savvy about keeping things locked up tight. “But yeah, boring classwork or designing stuff? Not a hard choice.”
That would probably have been the end of it if she hadn’t ended up talking to Damian about it all just ten minutes later. The youngest Wayne had ostensibly called to discuss what the Bats would be doing that day, but Marinette knew it was to gloat that he didn’t have to go to school while he was in Paris. It had been a passing comment she made, about Alya trying to push her to get involved in school governance but Damian somehow managed to turn it to an insult.
“Yes, I suppose being the class president would present too much of a challenge for you,” said Damian offhandedly. “I must go, father has asked me to speak with Gordon to see if she has any additional information to offer. Goodbye, Marinette, I shall see you later.”
“Can you believe him? The nerve! Oohh, I’ll show him how easily I’d handle being class president,” she muttered, ignoring Plagg when he sighed and burrowed into her purse while she began to plot.
_ _ _
Marinette wasn’t sure how she felt about the fact that people were accepting bribes from Chloé so she could maintain her position as class president. Granted, Marinette didn’t have much more than ‘I’m not Chloé, vote for me’, but she thought that was a fairly solid platform to run on. But Alya was talking about having a ‘convincing speech’. If she wasn’t determined to prove a point to Damian, she probably would have wished everyone good luck with Chloé and moved on.
The fact that Chloé had connections with Jagged Stone was hardly a surprise, but being able to pull the strings to get him to endorse her? Insane. That, plus the fact that her papa had just won his own election meant that Chloé was feeling pretty confident, and Marinette wasn’t sure she had any reason not to.
Unfortunately, there was now an akuma and that was derailing everything.
Honestly, the Mayoral election should've been an obvious spot for akumas but Marinette really thought they were safe. It wasn't like anybody else thought mayor Bourgeois was going to lose. But apparently D’Argencourt truly believed that he was going to beat the current and previous mayor in spite of…well, everything. So now Darkblade was running rampant and turning people into minions without any regard for who he was turning. As if Marinette didn’t have enough to deal with given the student elections!
“Come on, we need to barricade the hall so Darkblade can’t get in,” she shouted, urging everyone to move forward and block off the doorways and windows. Typically, Chloé was hiding and spouting some nonsense about offering help if she was elected. If that wasn’t enough to instantly win Marinette the election, she was changing classes, she didn’t care if she had to start again with the other students.
“Hey, Pigtails,” Plagg whispered, tugging on one of them. She glanced around furtively before responding to him.
“I know, Plagg, but I can’t just run off!” she hissed, glancing over to where Jagged Stone was trying to go out and confront the villain. “Okay, you’re going to help me get free…”
_ _ _
Transformed at last after convincing her class that she was checking the upstairs windows, Qitta found her way down from one and met Coquille as he arrived from the direction of the school. She waved him down and grimaced when she saw the wave of knight minions that were following along behind him.
The next few minutes were tense as they fended off the attackers so they could get a breather for a couple of minutes. It wasn’t ideal, but at least they managed to regroup and discuss what they knew of the akuma and how to defeat it. Unsurprisingly, Coquille had somehow found out that the akuma was in the sword; probably because Adrien had a fencing lesson that afternoon, which Qitta knew because Nino had been lamenting that he couldn’t come and meet Jagged.
Splitting up to cover more ground so they could find Darkblade, Qitta found herself surrounded by those that the akuma had deputised and knighted. It wasn’t that she couldn’t defeat them all, it was that the sheer number of them was overwhelming and she was trying not to cause any more damage than she had to. (Un)fortunately, that was when Robin dropped into the fight beside her.
“Batman and Red Hood are working on the lead you gave us,” he said smoothly when she asked if more help was coming, disabling two minions as easily as breathing. Asshole. He didn’t even sound out of breath. “Tt, Qitta, your form is lacking.”
“Shut up,” she growled, using his back as a springboard to get the drop on a different minion. “When you say ‘working on’-”
“I mean that they requested an audience with the suspect and were dismissed shortly before the teacher was akumatised,” he replied, seizing a gap in the oncoming horde and pressing forward.
“Well, that’s good news, right? Sort of confirms what we were thinking,” she mused, stopping and staring at the freaking trebuchet the minions had assembled and were using to launch themselves onto city hall. Seriously, wasn’t there any sense to these akuma things? “Oh for the love of- Robin, can you dismantle that thing? Coquille and I really need to stop Darkblade-”
“Why don’t you dismantle it?” he shot back, huffing when she picked up a rock and hurled it at him with all of her enhanced strength. And the jerk had the audacity to duck! “It is hardly as though your swordsmanship is of the calibre of D’Argencourt when he doesn’t have additional powers. Clearly I am the correct choice-”
“Robin? Weren’t you supposed to leave?” said Coquille as he came back from the reconnaissance he had been conducting. Qitta jumped closer to her longtime friend, covering his back while he conversed.
“Of course I didn't leave,” Robin tutted, shoving Qitta's head down as a projectile headed towards her. Seamlessly, she used the momentum to slide across the floor and knocked the feet out from under an approaching adversary. “Qitta asked for help, not you. Only she can request I leave before we see this through, and she has yet to do so.”
“Yeah, but I'm pretty sure that Batman said he agreed to back off, so I don't know if you're here going rogue, or-” Coquille argued back hotly as he threw his yo-yo out to hit another adversary.
“At the risk of sounding like the reasonable one,” Qitta cut in, bo staff twirling to create a barrier, “is now the right time for this? Because I feel like we could maybe just not fight about this until after we stop the guy who wants to rule Paris with an iron fist.”
“You knew he was still here,” Coquille said accusatorily, and her ears flattened to her head at the disapproval she could hear.
“It is not her fault that you have no authority over me,” Robin shot back. But before they could all start arguing in earnest, Darkblade managed to reach the top of City Hall and planted his flag at its summit. “Curses, I hope you have a plan for that.”
The plan turned out to be simple enough: Coquille was going to challenge Darkblade to a duel and disarm him, leaving Qitta to handle keeping the minions at bay. Robin tagteamed with her, the pair of former League Assassins working fairly well together in spite of Qitta’s lack of continual training. Not that she would admit to it, ever.
To allow Coquille to call on his lucky charm, Robin took over duelling with Darkblade, his blade slicing and stabbing fluidly. Between the two, Qitta only had to wait for them to disarm Darkblade so she could destroy the sword he was wielding. And as the ladybugs washed over everything, restoring it to its former state, she smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. At least D’Argencourt wasn’t going to actually take Paris over and try to enforce his own rules and laws.
Now was the more difficult part…dealing with the fact that Coquille knew that Robin was still in Paris. The trio convened on the roof of City Hall and Qitta’s ears and tail drooped as Coquille eyed the pair. Luckily, his ire took on a new target when a shadow arrived to meet them, and he began glaring at Batman.
“So…in spite of my request for you to steer clear of Paris, it’s obvious that you stayed and have been putting everything at risk,” Coquille said tiredly, glaring at Batman in particular. “You know, I can kind of understand Robin because he thinks he’s helping his friend, but I expected better of you, Batman. I thought you were aware of how dangerous your knowledge of Qitta’s identity was, and respected my request that you operate outside of Paris?”
“Okay, yes, you’re disappointed in all of us,” Qitta cut in impatiently, ignoring the exasperated look Batman sent her way and flapping her hands excitedly. “But! We think we have a lock on Hawkmoth’s civilian identity! And because the Bats are here, in Paris, we’ve been able to put that theory to the test and are, what, ninety-three percent sure we’ve got him?”
“Well that- okay, yes, that’s pretty good news,” Coquille admitted, running a hand through his blond hair and sighing. “But that’s not how a partnership works, Qit. We’re supposed to support each other, not work behind each other’s backs. I’ve got to go, I’ll be missed, but can we meet up tonight to discuss this properly?”
“Okay,” she said meekly, twirling her baton nervously before her ring beeped and she also had to find cover. But hopefully, by the end of the following day, they would have ended the threat and Hawkmoth would be no more.
_ _ _
The derby hat contest was the perfect time for Bruce Wayne to try and involve himself in Gabriel’s company and force another meeting with the reclusive designer. So, of course, Marinette was going to enter - and she was going to win, this was her whole thing - and that would maybe give another avenue for her to approach the man, too.
After an excruciatingly long discussion with Coquille the night before (during which she had resolutely ignored the way he had blanched at Hawkmoth maybe being Gabriel and his reasons) Marinette had convinced him that they were going to need to get into the building so that they could disarm him. Coquille had agreed and promised he would do what he could while the Bats worked in their own mysterious ways. Marinette was only slightly worried that either party would work out the identities of everyone involved.
So, of freaking course, another akuma hit while she was supposed to be making the hat. Was it too much to ask that Hawkmoth not create an akuma that cooed at them? It was annoying and, quite frankly, insulting to be forced to beat up a man that clearly just wanted to feed the birds. No amount of justification was going to make her feel better about this, especially when Robin started lecturing her about animal care. Honestly, Coquille would fix any damage so did it really matter if she accidentally put a bird or two out of commission?
“Of course it matters,” said Robin stoically, sounding scandalised at the very idea of it. “And I am perturbed by the fact that you even considered-”
“Mon dieu, fine! Fine, I’ll do everything I can not to hurt the stupid birds, alright?” she half shouted, annoyed and frustrated as she tried to think of how she could avoid hurting the winged beasts. “Are you coming to help then?”
“I would not be as useful assisting you as I would be coordinating with Batman,” he said grudgingly. “We shall be in touch again as soon as we have apprehended Hawkmoth - providing he is who we believe him to be. If not, we will have to return to our suspect list.”
Sighing, Qitta agreed and followed Coquille to try and defeat Monsieur Pigeon without upsetting a very picky Robin.
_ _ _
The fight wasn’t going overly well. Coquille had given away their position by sneezing loudly - allergic to feathers, why?! - and now Qitta was being cooed at again. The lucky charm didn’t make sense to either of them yet, and she was beginning to think it might be worth it to just commit incredible feats of violence on everyone near her so she didn’t have to hear that stupid sound again. Thankfully, a distraction appeared in the form of one of the Bats giving them an update.
“Gabriel is disarmed,” came the voice of Batman through the comms. Coquille exchanged a look with her, and they were able to defeat Monsieur Pigeon shortly after. Coquille’s sneezing was starting to really grate on Qitta’s nerves, but it stopped after the ladybugs had finished with their cure - for the final time, hopefully. “We shall be turning him in to the police force, and then we’ll look to head home.”
“Well, I guess that’s it,” Coquille said, sounding slightly nonplussed. “That’s- I mean, we’re done, right? Batman says they’ve got pér- the guy in custody so…Coquille Rouge and Qitta are finished?”
“Dieu, I hope so,” she muttered in reply, shifting on her feet and looking everywhere except at her superhero partner. “It’s been…nice, working with you, Coquille. I don’t think I could have asked for a better partner during this brief, but thankfully now over, job.”
“You’re not going to miss being Qitta? Because I’m really going to miss being Coquille Rouge,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in a semi-familiar gesture. She might have said more but just then both of their miraculous began to beep so they nodded uncertainly at each other and went their separate ways.
When she arrived home and detransformed, Marinette found Damian hanging out in her room, spinning in her desk chair while he waited for her to get home. His eyes were thoughtful as he looked at her before standing and silently exiting through the trapdoor. Without bothering to close her skylight she followed him, dropping onto his shoulders once she was sure he had solid footing at the bottom of the stairs.
“If you weren’t so irritating, I might have compared you to a koala for how often you climb and cling to people,” he muttered when he finally disentangled himself from her. “Father and Jason are waiting with the car so that we may travel to the airport and return to Gotham. We have already been gone for longer than expected and we cannot expect the others to hold down the fort forever. Walk with me?”
So she did, both quiet as they passed through the bakery and onto the street outside. It was still fairly empty from the akuma attack, no statement having been made to the public by the police. The car Bruce had hired was down the street, far enough that the only way they would overhear the two teens’ conversation was if they had bugged them. Which didn’t seem too farfetched but Marinette refused to stress out about it just then. Throwing her arms around Damian’s middle, she fought back the sudden wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. It was nice that he decided not to stab her until she let go, and she figured he must also be feeling sentimental so she was a little honest with him.
“I’m going to miss you, you dork,” Marinette said into Damian’s shoulder. “If you don’t message me at least once a week, I’ll find a way to get into the Zeta tubes and beat you up.”
“Tt, I shall set a reminder to call you when I begin patrols in Gotham,” he said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice so she pulled back a little and narrowed her eyes as she tried to work out why that was a threat. “We begin patrol around ten pm, Marinette. With you being six hours ahead of us…”
“You wouldn’t,” she gasped, punching him hard in the stomach so he grunted and the smirk morphed into a frown.
“Fine, but then you cannot be upset that I will forget to call with any regularity,” he grumbled, giving her a semi-friendly shove. “Try not to get caught up in any more shenanigans.”
“No promises, but trust me; I want to get caught up in things as much as you want me to,” she agreed, stepping back and wiping her eyes. “Go home, loser. And next time I see you, I’m kicking your butt.”
Grinning sharply, Damian gave one last nod and stalked back to his father to go home. Jason gave a jaunty wave and then they were gone.
_ _ _
The daylight in Marinette’s room was beginning to fade completely, and she wondered how quickly things would return to their pre-Hawkmoth state. She could hardly believe that it hadn’t even been a month since she first donned the magical catsuit and started fighting a terrorist. It was almost like a bizarre page from someone else’s story that she’d been thrown into for a very brief moment in time.
But happen it had, and now she was going to have to move on from it all with a new experience under her belt and a rekindled friendship. Knowing that both Damian and Jason were back in her life filled her with warmth - not that she would ever admit it to them. They probably already knew, but she still had her pride so the words would never come from her mouth.
The only thing left was the ring. Twirling it on her finger, she marvelled for a final time the way it fit snugly on her hand without being obtrusive. Then, with a deep breath, she removed it from her hand and watched it transform back into its original form before holding it out to the kwami. He took it from her, tiny paws brushing her fingertips comfortingly before he backed away.
“It was great working with you, Pigtails,” said Plagg warmly, clinging to the ring and snuggling up to her cheek briefly. “Keep the box, as a souvenir. I’d better take myself back to where I belong. If the world ever needs Qitta again, I’m sure I’ll find my way to you.”
“I’d really rather you didn’t,” she muttered, though her eyes were a little blurry. Tiredness, probably, but she patted the kwami’s head gently. “Thanks, Plagg, I really enjoyed hanging out with you, even if I could have done without the rest of it. Stay safe, you hear me?”
Cackling lightly, the tiny cat god flew through her open skylight and was gone.
Day 5 of Maribat March & Chapter 5 of Storm's Coming
@maribatserver
Link to AO3
Plagg sat on top of the travel box for his Miraculous, eyes impossibly wide and imploring while Marinette paced back and forth across her room muttering to herself. The conversation had started pretty much as she'd anticipated - with him suggesting she keep hold of him for just a little longer while she argued that she'd given him time - but then she'd started a pro and con list because she wanted to prove she was right and she was no longer sure.
“But…Paris is my home, in ways that the League never was,” she said, countering her own previous point that she had no obligation to spend her childhood as a warrior in a fight she hadn't ever agreed to. Coquille had accepted the challenge, not her, so there was no reason she should have to carry on. “And there's no way Coquille can win alone. Yes, the world needs change, but Hawkmoth’s way is wrong.”
“Pigtails, shouldn't we at least wait until things are settled with the Justice League?” pleaded Plagg, apparently no longer willing to wait for her to come to her own conclusion. “How well do you think any other holder would handle Aqua-jerk?”
“Ugh, Aquaman,” she groaned, flopping onto her chaise and covering her face with both hands. “Why did he even show up if he's just going to be a jerk? You know what, you're right! If I give the ring away now he'd win, and that's just not acceptable.”
“That's the spirit!” Plagg cheered, curling up on her shoulder and purring loudly. Which is when Marinette realised he had just neatly directed her to his desired outcome of staying with her, but decided to let him win this one - for now.
_ _ _
“Come on, pigtails, knock him on his ass!” called Plagg from where he was sitting on Jason's shoulder, making Marinette grimace. Stupid cat, he had to know she was trying to take out Damian but he had continued his training when he moved to Gotham whereas she…hadn't. There had been no point when everything was calm but it clearly should have been more of a priority considering she couldn't even seem to land a proper hit now!
“Ask him about Nika,” Jason piped up, and Damian paused to glare at him which gave Marinette just enough time to land a foot in his gut.
“Mind your own business, Todd,” he grunted, recovering far too quickly. “Or shall we have a discussion about you and Wilson's daughter?”
“Wait, as in Deathstroke’s-” Marinette gasped, mouth dropping open until Damian's practice sword connected with her shins hard enough to make her drop to the floor. “You dirty-”
“I was no less distracted by what Todd said,” he huffed, smirking down at her. “But I believe that is my fourth win today, so evidently you do need remedial training-”
“No way! Best out of nine,” she shouted, jumping to her feet before wincing and dropping back onto her butt. “I swear, I'm never missing a day of training again. But if we're not training…who's Nika?”
“She is my girlfriend,” he said haughtily, turning away from her and placing his sword in its rightful place before taking her bo staff and putting that away too. “Todd and the others are constantly trying to invade my privacy by enquiring about her.”
“Yeah yeah, I get it; like I want to hear about you getting freaky with someone,” she said, shuddering delicately. “Anyway, I have to go and meet up with my friends for-”
She was derailed from her train of thought when none other than Talia swept into the room, Bruce hot on her heels. Immediately, she was on her feet and bowing deeply to her former instructor and mother of her once best friend. The ring on her finger felt hot and she had to hold herself rigidly in place so she didn't try and check if Plagg had hidden himself. Damian's parents came to a stop and Marinette remained exactly where she was until someone dismissed her.
“Stand, Marinette. Habibi, why didn’t you tell me you were taking our son to Paris?” Talia asked Bruce in a dangerous tone while Marinette straightened up. “Especially when he is here because of acquaintances he made through me?”
“I don't know, Talia, why didn't you tell me you gave our son's contact information to an ex-League operative?” he retorted, and Marinette opened her mouth to argue that she wasn't an operative but Damian laid a hand on her arm and shook his head when she looked at him. “Better yet, why didn't you tell me that you have a sleeper agent that knows our son personally and has enough sway that-”
“Please, Marinette is hardly a sleeper agent,” snorted Talia derisively. “They were children in the League together, so when she asked to speak with him I did not see any harm in resuming their acquaintanceship. Though based upon the rumours of what is happening in Paris, it would appear she was not truthful about her reasons for contacting us.”
“I apologise, madame Talia,” she said immediately, inclining her head once again in deference. “I only informed the heroes of my acquaintance with Robin, not the League of Assassins, and so I was only to contact him regarding the problem.”
“Stand up straight, child,” Talia tutted, lifting Marinette's chin with two fingers. “It may have been a few years but I think we are able to dispense with the formalities. After all, you were my prospective daughter-in-law for a week or so.”
“Mother…” Damian sighed, shaking his head. Jason gave him an amused look while Bruce looked borderline panicked, so he seemed to cave and explained. “We were five, and Monsieur Dupain and Madame Cheng showed us their wedding album. As Marinette and I were the only children, we decided we would have to marry when we were older. I'm thankful to say we broke the engagement within a week due to irreconcilable differences.”
“The only real shame is that we're not family, Mme- um, Talia,” Marinette sighed, smirking at Damian when Talia gave her an indulgent smile.
“Suck up,” muttered Damian, just loudly enough for her to hear - and judging by the exasperated sigh he gave, Bruce as well - so she smacked him again.
“Like you're any better! ‘Yes Madame Cheng, of course Madame Cheng, aren't I so polite Madame Cheng’-” she hissed quietly, slapping down his hand as she caught a glint of his dagger.
“You are only angry because you have no manners,” he said imperiously, slipping the dagger back into his sleeve before the adults saw it. “And I do not pander to your mother the way you do mine-”
“Oh, I wonder why,” she countered sarcastically, kicking his ankle when he merely raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s not like your maman is in charge of a bunch of assassins-”
“Damian, Marinette, please,” Bruce said at last, cutting into their conversation and probably preventing an all out fight from starting. “You’re both old enough to behave better than this, and we are trying to have a serious conversation. I didn’t think you still needed to be put in timeouts but…”
“Habibi, it is harmless play,” Talia said, shaking her head at him. “There hasn’t even been blood drawn, let them bicker if it pleases them. Besides which, he only started behaving quite so childishly after you took him in-”
“And yet it's only with someone whom you know that he-”
Marinette wasn't sure how much longer they would have argued if an alarm hadn't started ringing on her phone. Immediately, she darted across the room and snatched it up, cursing as she realised that someone had been akumatised at the TV station again.
“I have to go, my friends are caught up in the attack,” she said, shoving her feet into her shoes as fast as she could. “See if you can find anything out while I'm gone? And it was nice to see you again, Talia! Make sure you stop by to see maman if you have time, she has a few new teas for you to try.”
She didn't slow down until she was several streets away and in an alley she could transform in.
_ _ _
It was decided; Qitta loathed Gabriel Agreste and hoped she would get an excuse to punch him in the face sometime soon. Also, she couldn't be completely sure but she thought she had worked out who Coquille was under the mask based on his apparent knowledge of the Agreste home alarm system.
“I'm just saying, is saving him from Jacques-a-dit really such a priority?” she huffed, half ignoring the way Coquille’s face contorted - probably because that was his dad she was suggesting they let the akuma pancake - and focusing on studying the way Jacques was moving. “I'm not suggesting we don't fix him afterwards! Just…maybe he'd learn that we were trying to help him if he wasn't saved before the akuma got hold of him.”
“Qitta,” he laughed, shaking his head but grinning nonetheless. “He lost his wife last year, he should get some allowances, you know?”
“That doesn’t mean I have to put up with him being a total ass just because he doesn’t agree that he needs to stay somewhere safe,” she shot back, grinning as well. “He wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t ignored your orders to hide.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he sighed decisively, landing on the top of the TV station and motioning for her to follow his lead. “We still have to do our best to save him from the akuma, regardless of how we might feel about him personally. So you’re on Gabriel duty while I deal with Jacques, alright?”
“Fine,” she muttered, bounding after him to get to the main broadcasting room and crouching low as Coquille went in high. The battle was tricky, Jacques able to fling cards at them from a distance as they ducked and weaved around what they could. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he had to stop to reload, but the box just magically refilled when he needed more so they were just trying to avoid getting hit while Gabriel fluttered around the room. “We could probably do with your Lucky Charm!”
Coquille nodded and Qitta threw herself more bodily at Jacques to keep him distracted while her partner worked on whatever plan he was formulating. She noted distantly that Jacques hadn’t taken any directions from Hawkmoth recently, which surprised her because the first two seemed to constantly be talking to the villain. But it wasn’t something she could worry about just then because she needed to focus so she didn’t get hit with a card. She didn’t need to get turned into a butterfly, pretending to fly around the room.
“You know, I really don’t like you,” she hissed when she had to dodge yet another card. Then her bo staff connected with Jacques’s wrist and his cards went flying, leaving him to snarl at her as both she and Coquille attempted to find the akuma. Unfortunately it didn’t take that long for Jacques to realise he could divide their teamwork by turning Gabriel into an aeroplane and telling him to take off. “What do we do?”
“Jacques is the priority,” Coquille said after a moment’s hesitation, shoulders setting and jaw tightening. “If we beat him, pér- I mean, Monsieur Agreste is freed and we save him too.”
Nodding - and ignoring that little slip - Qitta took a running start at Jacques, sliding along the floor and between his feet so that she was behind him as he tried to flick a card at her. While she distracted him, Coquille managed to snag the hand holding the cards with the spare yo-yo Lucky Charm so that she could destroy the card pack with no resistance. She was relieved to see the black butterfly return to physical existence as it freed itself from the broken object, Coquille throwing the Lucky Charm quickly so that his yo-yo was restored - and presumably so that Gabriel didn’t actually try to fly off the building.
“Bien joué,” they chorused when everything was set to rights and the white butterfly fluttered away. With the beeping of their Miraculous, they both made hasty excuses to depart, leaving Jacques to the mercy of the TV host, Alec, who was less than sympathetic when he hadn’t been turned into a chicken.
Now that the fight was over, Qitta had far too much to think about and moved swiftly back towards the hotel Damian and his family were staying in, fully intending to speak with him again before the afternoon was through.
