Marinette sat quietly at her favorite park, enjoying the last rays of sunshine on a rare sunny day in Gotham. Leaning against a tree trunk, she rested her sketchbook against her knees, adding a last bit of color to a detailed drawing of a man and his dog. With a wistful sigh, she put down her pencil and shook out her cramped fingers, raising her eyes to her unknowing subject. She smiled as their eyes met, and gave a shy wave before looking back down at her completed artwork.
He’s beautiful.
She often found herself visiting the park hoping to draw the man as he played with his dog. Something about him engaged her creativity. Perhaps it was his barely-there smile morphing into a carefree grin when he bent down to enthusiastically pet his monster of a dog, or his eyes, two jewels of perfectly polished jade. Whatever the case, he captivated her. He certainly featured in more than one daydream.
He, like her, was a frequent visitor to this park. She spoke to him a few times, and while not overly friendly—he hadn’t even told her his name—he was never outright rude, either. His dog, Minerva, was a sweet girl who often wandered over to Marinette’s tree for scratches and belly rubs.
Marinette’s back popped a few times as she stretched, easing the familiar pain of hunching over her sketchbook for too long. She packed her drawing supplies, determined to head home and actually make progress on a new design for Jagged.
A harsh growl and ferocious bark grabbed her attention, and her eyes darted back over to where she last saw Minerva and her person. She gasped when a tall man burst out of the bushes, attacking Minerva’s person from behind. The attacker bashed the man in the head with a bat and rifled through his pockets after he fell to the ground.
“Hey! Get away from him!” she shouted and, without a moment’s hesitation, charged the attacker with a collapsible baton in one hand and a heavy, custom-made yoyo in the other.
Startled by her shout, the criminal turned towards her, smiling nastily as he raised his bat for a second time. Marinette ducked under his wild swing. She slung her yoyo at the attacker’s head, hitting him hard, then switched the baton to her dominant hand, whacking him hard as she could behind the knees. He fell to the ground with a surprised yelp and she quickly and securely hogtied him with the cord of her yoyo. Pulling her phone out of her bag, she dialed 9-1-1. A brief conversation later and help was on the way.
A cold nose pressed into Marinette’s hand and she turned to see Minerva whimpering. “It’s alright, sweetie,” she reassured the sweet dog. “He’ll be okay.” Marinette walked over to the man she’d been secretly observing not minutes before. She knelt beside him to check he was at least breathing. He had a nasty gash on his head, and Marinette scratched Minerva’s ears to assure both of them he would be ok. She practiced deep breathing and ran her fingers through the Great Dane’s fur to delay the panic building in her chest as the lights of the emergency vehicles swiftly approached.
After giving a statement to the police and reclaiming her yoyo, the criminal glaring at her all the while, she stood awkwardly, anxiously, off to the side watching the paramedics work. After a minute or two, she gathered her things together from where she left them by the tree, and picked up Minerva’s leash.
“Um....excuse me?” Marinette said to stop a passing officer. “Do you know if someone could pick up Minerva? I’m not supposed to have animals in my place but I really don’t want her to be left to animal control. She’s a sweet dog.”
The officer smiled at her. “Sure miss. I happen to know the victim’s brother. Grayson’s a police officer. I’m sure he won’t mind taking custody of her if I bring her to the station.” She took the leash from Marinette, and, after allowing one last head scratch, led Minerva away to her police car.
...
James Blake shivered at the grim sight of Damian Wayne, the Ice Prince of Gotham, knocked out cold on the ground. Shaking his head, he assisted his partner as she assessed the man’s injuries and they loaded him carefully on a gurney and into the back of the ambulance.
James walked over to the woman who witnessed—and apparently stopped—the attack, assessing her as well. She was definitely in shock, and he suggested she ride along in the ambulance and get checked out at the hospital. She consented, quietly muttering to herself as they walked together towards the ambulance. Just as he turned to assist her into the back of the vehicle he heard her sigh.
“I was going to marry him....”
She mumbled it so quietly James almost thought he imagined it. A glance at Leena, his partner, whose jaw dropped and eyes darted between the unconscious Ice Prince of Gotham and the woman, meant he hadn’t imagined the comment.
Damian Wayne is engaged? It must be true. No sane person would claim engagement to a Wayne—especially THIS Wayne—if it wasn’t.
James was so distracted by this juicy bit of gossip he took a minute to refocus on the task at hand. It was a little concerning that Mr. Wayne hadn’t woken up yet. After a few quick questions to the man’s fiancée, James and his partner were all business, relaying all the information to the medical staff waiting at the entrance of the Emergency Room.
He finished updating the doctor in charge of Mr. Wayne’s care, when he noticed a nurse addressing the young woman standing quietly to the side.
“Excuse me, miss. If you’re not a patient or a family member, you can’t stay here.”
“It’s alright, Sarah,” James stepped in on the woman’s behalf. “Miss Dupain-Cheng is Mr. Wayne’s fiancée.” He turned to the young woman with a smile that quickly turned to a frown at her horrified expression.
Wide eyed and mouth agape she whispered, “What?”
...
Marinette stared in confusion, face pale as all the stress from the last hour settled into her chest and she began to panic. Fiancée? What is he talking about? Her ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton.
“Miss, stop please, it’s alright. Take a deep breath with me. Inhale and hold...and exhale. One more time, inhale….and exhale, that’s very good, once more. Inhale...and exhale.” James smiled at her as she visibly calmed with each deep breath. “Very good, sweetheart. Why don’t you let Sarah here get you checked out.”
She nodded and, in a daze, followed the nurse. She answered questions and submitted to an examination on autopilot, wondering just how she ended up in this mess. After some indeterminate amount of time, she was led into a patient room to wait for information on her fiancé, a man who’s name she didn’t even know.
