Chapter Text
That night at dinner, after Marinette had been sent home, Bruce decides to begin informing his children about their upcoming gala.
Clearing his throat, he states, “We are hosting our annual gala this coming month. I have already chosen the designer, and Damian has graciously helped with the arrangements, seeing as he happens to know them personally.” Ignoring the shouts of surprise following the smirk on his youngest’s face, he continues, “You will all remember to be polite and courteous when they arrive. Treat this designer with respect.” With a sigh he adds, “And do try not to make your attire entirely too extravagant, we have an limited amount of time to get these outfits finished.”
“Father, I have discussed it with her, and she will be here to design our outfits all day, both Saturday and Sunday.” Damian states, leaving out any clues of who it could be, further frustrating his siblings.
“How could Daimian know a designer? I’ve only ever seen him talk to Marinette and Jon!”
“Who is the designer? Do you think it could be MDC?!”
“Ha! You think Damian knows MDC, Dick? No way!”
“But, just imagine getting outfits from the elusive designer, MDC. It would be a dream come true!”
A huff is heard from Damian as he states"It is MDC, and yes," he adds with a roll of his eyes, "it is possible for me to know people outside of Jon."
“Oh no! I have no idea what I want and they are coming on Saturday! What should I do?!”
“Just choose some colors and- ”
Ignoring the discussions his children are having about the identity of the designer, Bruce goes back to his dinner.
***
The next day begins in a flurry of movement. Dick and Tim are both panicking and have started to clean the house last minute, worried that the highly acclaimed MDC will somehow find fault in her commissioner’s lack of organization. Jason has wisely elected to stay in his room, as he prepares for the designer’s arrival, and is not a part of the emergency clean up crew. Bruce has not seen either of his daughters this morning, but he knows they will be ready to greet their favorite designer.
Throughout all this raucous, Damian has remained calm. One of the last to come down, and the least panicked of those he has seen, Bruce watches as his youngest tranquilly sips the tea Alfred put out for them, listening to his siblings' panicked shouts.
“DICK!”
“WHAT TIM?”
“WHERE DID YOU PUT THAT NICE TABLECLOTH WE USED AS THE TOP OF OUR FORT A FEW MONTHS AGO?”
“CHECK THE LIBRARY!”
“Is that the purple one with the silver embroidery?”
“Yeah, do you know where it is?”
“I think I moved it to the living room to decorate the new coffee table. Do you want me to go grab it?”
“Nope! Thanks Stephanie! Can you grab my empty coffee cups from the library instead?”
“Got it!”
Hearing this, Bruce mentally notes that at least one of his daughters is awake and has been roped into participating in cleaning.
“Cass! Are you ready for MDC? You have all your notes right? Did I give you mine?”
A pause, in which Bruce assumes Cass has nodded, occurs before Stephanie continues her panicked rant.
“Okay, okay. Just need to grab those then. Wait, is Jason ready? Where is Jason? Why isn’t he down here!?”
He gets up from the table, preparing to head to his office and get his things together for Marinette, while also trying to avoid the insanity of his adult children.
On his way to his office, he passes Cass, who is carrying a small stack of papers, and seems to be heading in the direction of Jason’s room.
***
A few hours later, a knock is heard at the door.
Damian gets up and heads towards the entrance hall, as the other children panic and try to put themselves together at the last minute, hoping to make a good impression. Bruce watches all five of his children tidy themselves and they hear their guest approaching: hair smoothed out or tucked behind ears, backs straightened, sweaty palms wiped on pants, and legs crossed.
“Everyone is in the living room over here,” they hear Damian say, as he leads their guest to the six of them.
In walks Marinette, a rather large bag by her side.
Immediately, all the Wayne’s relax, slouching in their chairs and uncrossing their legs as they splay out on the couches. Only to shift back into panic mode as they hear Bruce greet her.
"MDC, thank you for coming."