Chapter Text
Bruce sighed and pinched his nose. Five deeps breaths.
Five.. four… three… two… one… He opened his eyes.
His problem should be gone now, right?
Nope.
Tim was skateboarding through the halls. He wished Lucius would implement a no skateboarding policy. Sure, Tim only did it on the executive floors, but it was giving the other board members reasons to glare at him. He wouldn't keep up his Brucie persona very well if he didn't just smile or laugh at it.
So he laughed and changed his dour expression to one of glee. He clapped enthusiastically, wishing he could really just smack Tim on the back of the head.
Tim popped his board, jumping into the air and landed backwards. He shot him some finger guns and a wink.
The little bastard knew what he was doing. He should take him off patrols for a week… but it would give him more time to plan something even more ridiculous.
Last week Tim had been forced to attend another board meeting - the monthly review - and he had replaced everyone's pens with pink and purple glitter pens. Bruce wasn't even sure when he had pulled it off.
Suddenly a poor, out of breath secretary came running around the corner. "Young Mr. Wayne! You need to sign this!" She waved the papers as she stopped and saw how far ahead he was from her. She put her hands on her knees, huffing and puffing, as Tim disappeared from view.
Bruce gave her a moment to catch her breath before he gently tapped her shoulder. "Want me to take those to him?" he asked as he changed his voice to the airhead persona's typical timbre.
"Could you? Mr. Fox really needs the board members to sign it today. Mr. Drake-Wayne hasn't been answering my calls to come in… and now I can't seem to catch him!" The girl sounded close to tears.
He nodded, taking the papers. It seemed his stint in the time stream had unforseen consequences. Tim dropping out in his last year of school to go find him and withdrawing his acceptance and full ride to Ivy University was a big one. Tim had far too much time on his hands now.
Another was that Tim had emancipated himself and gained the controlling shares of Wayne Enterprises. Damian had tried to get them back, but Tim had fought and won, just to spite Damian.
Legally, Bruce couldn't do anything. Tim owned the majority of his family’s business.
So, Wayne Enterprises now had an unruly 19 year old grace it's halls every other week. And every other week he did something to make Bruce's life a living hell.
Sure, it meant that he no longer had to do the press conferences or anything on the public eye, and Tim was admittedly very good at them, but the trade off was whatever chaos Tim chose to create.
There were still people flinching at the sight of ducks from what the office had deemed "The Drakening." Thousands of rubber ducks. Stashed everywhere. Falling out of supply cabinets. In drawers. The copy machine had been full of them, preventing it from working or printing off the form Tim was supposed to have signed that day. Bruce was positive Tim had Bart and Conner help with that one. The boardroom had been full of live male ducks that had left the room a disaster as they roamed around and tried to escape or fight one another.
Tim's antics were his own attempt at a Brucie alter ego. Bruce knew this was his attempt to emulate him (he should be flattered, but he really wasn't). Create a public face for the future. High-school dropout with too much money who plays practical jokes for fun.
The rest of the building had no idea what went on in the executive levels.
"Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Wayne. Uhm, could you sign it too?" she asked sheepishly.
Oops. "Oh! Sure!" he responded chipperly.
He watched as she walked back to her desk, muttering to herself "That whole family needs their own assistant just to keep them in line…"
Actually, that wasn't a bad idea.
~~~~
"Tim, I've found you. Perfect." Lucius Fox's voice boomed from behind him. The CEO of Wayne Enterprises had a broad smile on his face and was flanked by his daughter and assistant Tam, who was just looking at him exasperatedly, and another gorgeous woman he didn't know, who had taken an eager step forward. "Tim, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, your new assistant."
"Assistant?" He didn't need an assistant. He didn't do anything here normally. The only reason he showed up at Wayne Enterprises at all was because it was mandatory and he wanted to see if he could make Mr. Walkerton finally turn that shade of purple Tim knew he was capable of in frustration. The ducks had almost done it. He was a lovely shade of reddish-purple then.
Okay, sure, so there was the occasional time he forced the board to vote the way he, Bruce, and Lucius wanted with his shareholder votes… but it really wasn't that often.
"Mr. Drake, a pleasure meeting you," she stepped forward, her hand extended, as the words rolled off her tongue in a clearly French accent. Her smile was bright and warm. No falseness to it. She must not have heard about the stuff he did around the office. What shocked him most, however, was that she referred to him as Mr. Drake.
In his defense, most of the pranks he did were well deserved. The ducks had been because everyone kept calling him 'young Wayne' or 'Wayne junior' all the time. The best he got was Mr. Wayne or Drake-Wayne. Sure, he was technically a Wayne by adoption, but it wasn't his whole identity. He was emancipated. They needed a reminder.
And the board members were jerks. If he could make their lives hell for a few hours, why not?
He glanced over at Lucius, who was looking far too smug at the moment. Why? What did he know that Tim didn't?
"You too," he replied kindly to her, looking into her eyes for the first time. Beautiful, innocent-looking eyes stared back at him. He thought perhaps there was a hint of a blush on her face. It was pretty on her - but why? Nerves? Some people flushed when nervous. "But, Lucius, I don't really think I need an assistant. I'm barely ever here."
"Exactly. Ms. Dupain-Cheng will make sure you're here and on time, and sign everything appropriately."
Ah. Seemed Lucius had heard of the stuff outside of the board meetings.
Tim felt bad for the pretty woman. She was not going to have an easy job.
~~~~
"Mr. Drake! I need you to sign this…" his assistant called out after him a few days later. He had been avoiding the office ever since he had been assigned one.
Ignoring her call, he jumped on his skateboard and zoomed away. He laughed at her shocked look as he rounded the corner.
He lost her quickly and decided to skate past the board room he was supposed to be at in fifteen minutes and wave as he went past.
He was met with success as two of them hung their heads in exasperation at him. He was totally doing another lap before going in.
He turned the corner and just about ran into a person. He jumped off his board and popped it up just in time to stop himself from plowing them both to the ground. They grabbed his hand to prevent him from falling with the loss of momentum.
"Oops. Sorry," he began. Then his eyes went wide as he looked up. His assistant.
Up close, he could see a light dusting of freckles on her cheeks, and her eyes were alight with success. She was extremely pretty, and if she wasn't presently the thorn in his side he would likely be enamored with her.
After more than a few admittedly tense moments where he could practically feel the gravity between them, she let out a quiet cough before saying lowly, "Sign here." She shoved the pen between their faces, drawing Tim’s attention to just how inappropriately close they were.
Tim sighed and extracted his hand from hers. He signed the form absently, still looking at her.
She glanced at it momentarily. "Thanks. I, uh, think you're going to be late now if you don't hurry."
"Right. Thanks, Ms. Dupain-Cheng." He watched as she clutched the form to her body. Her fingers were calloused - unusually so for a personal assistant.
"Marinette. Just Marinette, please."
He felt himself nod once and heard himself repeat her name, in a low tone that only they could hear.
Then she pushed him towards the door for his meeting and disappeared.
As he looked back at her escaping form, he realised that she shouldn't have been able to make it to the other side of the building at the same time as him. How had she gotten over there so fast?
~~~~
There was no way he was attending the meeting today. It was optional. There were no votes to be cast. It was more of a social mixer really.
Patrol last night had been brutal and Tim just wanted to sleep.
"Master Tim, it is time to get up," Alfred called from the other side of his door. "You have a meeting in an hour."
"Unnngh. Not going," he mumbled into his pillow.
"I do believe that you will find that is not an option today," Alfred replied with a chuckle.
Tim didn't bother to reply. He rolled over and shoved his pillow on his head. There was no way he was getting up unless it was a bat emergency.
His peace and quiet lasted two whole minutes before his door burst open.
"Mr. Drake! Time to get up!" a far too chipper voice rang out above him.
He ignored it and hoped the cheery voice would go away.
The voice was annoyingly persistent. "You're going to be late for the meeting, Mr. Drake."
He tugged on the pillow harder.
"Don't say I didn't warn you…" was the only real warning he got before his covers were ripped from the bed.
He scrambled up to a sitting position in shock at what Marinette had just done, the pillow falling to the floor below him. "Aaah! What are you doing here?!" he screeched.
"Mr. Fox made me your personal assistant," she stated matter-of-factly before mumbling, "despite having more important things to do." She continued at a normal volume, "Now get up. You're going to be late."
Tim was stubborn and cranky, and even sounded like a tantrumming toddler to himself as he spat back, "I'm not going."
"Yes, you are. Don't make this any harder… uhm… harder… uhh than it needs to be." She had stuttered out the last part, staring at him, her face quickly turning bright red.
He looked down. He had just stripped before he had passed out. His chest was bare and he had nothing on but a pair of tight Red Robin boxer-briefs that didn't show in his suit. Unfortunately, without the suit's cup for protection, he was on full morning display. A display his beautiful personal assistant was now privy to.
He blushed and scrambled to grab the nearby pillow, placing it over top of him.
"Oh my gods, I'm so sorry. I'll just wait outside!" She raced for the door before Tim could say anything, not that he had any clue what he was going to say.
Tim slowly got dressed, despite his original protestations and met her outside his door. Her face was still a bit pink. His likely was too. That was not exactly how he had wanted to have her see him half naked and at attention.
Tim pushed back the thought that he would have preferred if it was reciprocal at the time. He was technically her boss, wasn't he? He didn't actually control much despite his shares and board position, and while she was his assistant, he technically hadn't hired her… She worked for Lucius in the end… right? He tried very hard to convince himself that he wasn't.
"Excellent! Off we go!"
Damnit. He had hoped she would forget in her embarrassment. He needed to stall. "I haven't had breakfast," he protested lamely.
She lifted up a brown paper bag and swung it in front of his face. "Taken care of."
"Coffee."
She popped open the bag to show a thermos. Damn. She had thought of everything.
"I don't feel well."
She rolled her eyes. "How so?"
"I'm really sore. I need to go rest-"
She handed him some painkillers from a bottle in her purse. Grumbling, he took the small pill and downed it with some of the best coffee he had ever had.
Excuses gone, he finally surrendered, "Fine, let's go."
Marinette escorted him to the meeting so he couldn't escape.
The meeting was as boring as all the others, only this time, many of the smaller shareholders were in attendance. It somehow made it worse.
So Tim decided it was a great time to remind them that the meeting was useless. He put his head on the table and promptly fell asleep.
Tim jolted awake to the sensation of ice cold water running down his back. He let out an involuntary yelp.
His personal assistant was grinning back at him as the entire room turned to stare at him.
"You were snoring, Mr. Drake," she informed him plainly.
The room of stuffy old men and middle aged women trying too hard to look important laughed. Tim dragged her over to the side of the room, causing more laughs to erupt. He could feel that the water had pooled on his seat. His pants now looked like he had peed himself. He turned his back to the walls he first chance he got and pulled her out of the room.
"Maybe you could have tried calling my name or something first?" he hissed at her.
"I did. You attempted to hit me in return."
Well, didn't he feel like an ass now. "Sorry. Could you fetch me some dry clothes?"
"I'm assuming you'll need new underwear, Red Robin?"
Tim stopped the yes forming on his tongue. Had she really just figured out his identity? Did he need to do some damage control?
"I mean Red Robin underwear! Is he your favourite? You bought his merchandise… how does that work anyways? Does the hero get a cut of the sales? Does it just go to some Justice League fund for all of them? Does he choose his own marketing? Do they have-" she rambled until he cut her off with a hand on her shoulder.
"Yes. Please. And, uh, can you call me Tim?" he requested lamely, dodging the questions about the Justice League's marketing department, because no, he did not have time to market his symbol on everything. Most of the funds went to mission expenses and relief funds for areas that were in attacks. Bruce and Dick usually handled all of the Bats accounts so that it was all unified. "You've already seen me half-naked, we may as well both be on a first name basis," he reasoned. It totally wasn't him trying to distance himself from the idea of being her superior in the company. Really.
They both flushed at the thought of that morning, though Tim knew his was tinged with thoughts of her joining him.
"R-right."
~~~~
Marinette turned out to be annoyingly persistent and far too good at her job. She showed up at the manor for every meeting. If he slept at his nest under the theatre she somehow managed to find him downtown just shortly after he got out. She hunted him down at his apartment. He still wasn't sure how she found him.
When he asked her when she had found him downtown the second time, she claimed that she was "just lucky I guess."
He looked over everything she touched. No trackers. His phone wasn't bugged.
He couldn't explain it.
He also couldn't understand why the purse she carried seemed to have everything. He asked for random things and she just happened to have them.
He had looked at her bag once. There was nothing suspicious. It wasn't magic. She had, however, caught him snooping. Rather than getting mad, like he had expected, she had just rolled her eyes and asked, "Did you find what you were looking for?"
He had to admit he hadn't as he scrambled to make an excuse that he wanted a stick of gum. She clearly didn't buy it as she laughed.
Actually, the more Tim thought about it, the more he realised that maybe she was a villain trying to infiltrate Wayne Enterprises or the Bats. He just wasn't sure which. She was just too good at her job.
So he decided to do the only rational thing left to him. Flirt. If she was comfortable with him, she would let her guard down. He could find out her master plan. And if it was nothing, well, maybe he could score a date (and hopefully not a sexual harassment lawsuit).
~~~~
Marinette should have said no. She really, really should have said no.
"I have just the person for you Mr. Wayne. Marinette, could you come over here please?"
She put down the specialized security system she was devising for the new underground storage facility Batman was using at Wayne Enterprises for all of the 'unique' weapons his enemies used, turned off her soldering iron and carefully capped the bottle of highly questionable fluid that they had procured from the last Joker attack that kept eating through her designs.
"Yes Mr. Fox? Mr. Wayne?" Batman.
"I have a special task for you."
The two men led her into the soundproof office Lucius maintained.
"Is this about the weird acid? I already ran a chemical analysis…"
"No. No. This is something else. We need you to be Mr. Drake's personal assistant."
"I-I'm being demoted?" She began panicking. "I swear I can do better! I just need a couple more days and then it'll be ready! Please don't-".
Mr. Wayne pulled Mr. Fox aside, but she heard all the same, "Are you sure this is the right person for the job? She doesn't seem very with it…"
"Oh, I'm very sure Mr. Wayne. She spent ten minutes in R&D and she figured out the whole lot of you." He rolled his eyes at the signs of Mr. Wayne having a mild panic attack. "She is the most trustworthy person in the department. She was the one that designed the upgrade to your armour and is the one that created the higher density ballistics gel that we filled the walls with, as you requested, for bulletproofing and weapon analysis."
"That's great," Mr. Wayne tried to acknowledge her deeds while still turning her down. "But Tim-"
"Will be no match for her. He won't even see her coming."
"Uhm, excuse me?" Marinette interrupted, "but I already have a job?"
"I'll triple your salary if you take this. It would only be once a week or so. Whenever there is a meeting or paper to sign."
"Triple?" she repeated Mr. Fox's words, shocked. She was already paid stupidly well because she was working on bat tech.
How bad could Tim really be? He was an adult. He was Red Robin for heaven's sake.
The answer was bad. When she got to the executive floors on her first assistant day, she was greeted by Tim playing with a skateboard. She should have taken the giant warning bells of triple the salary as Lucius' way of telling her the job would be hell.
~~~~
Tim, it turned out, was annoyingly cute. He had Chat's fun loving attitude without the need for puns every few seconds, while managing to stay serious as Red Robin. He had her sarcastic tongue. She had also caught him being incredibly kind, despite the hell he caused her. And, well, if she couldn't stop picturing him on his bed in nothing but those Red Robin underwear, who could blame her? He had a few scars from his time as a vigilante, the most obvious being a long scar underneath his ribcage, but they did not detract from the view.
She had slipped up and outted that she knew his identity once, but he seemed to buy her playing it off. Hopefully anyone overhearing would too.
Tim's attitude towards her so far had been fairly uninterested in making her life easy, and just plain ignoring her at others. She'd had to use Tikki’s magic to circumvent some of his more annoying attempts to waylay her. She had followed his patrol route one night back to his hideout. He must think she has a magic purse at this point with the random crap he had requested. Who the hell carried around a quill and ink like he requested last week? It would have taken her ages to find the old fashioned quill made of peacock feather he had demanded when all of his other normal excuses had been destroyed by her.
Which was why this week's behaviour was so unusual. He had started to make less excuses. He had been ready to go when she had picked him up for the meeting yesterday. He had complimented her on having everything he needed even before he knew it himself. He had complimented her hair. Her clothes. It was strange. Welcome and a pleasant change, but strange nonetheless.
Today she prepared to barricade the door for him to sign yesterday's meeting notes, but he didn't even have his skateboard with him. Even more unusual, he had come on his own without her having to pick him up or drag him kicking and screaming.
"Tim, I need you to sign this real quick. The secretary said it was impor-"
"Sure, Marinette!" He took the paper from her, and a normal pen from his jacket pocket and signed it - in normal coloured ink, much to her surprise. "And you look absolutely gorgeous this morning. Pink really is your colour."
She glanced down to her pink flowered fit and flare dress. She couldn't wear dresses in the engineering department, so during her days as his assistant, she took the chance to dress up. He reached up to touch the dark pink flower she had embroidered on her shoulder.
"T-Thanks," she stammered out. "I made it myself."
She couldn't help the blush on her cheeks as he ran his finger along the hem of the neckline. "Amazing. You're really talented, Marinette. I didn't know you knew how to sew."
"I always wanted to be a fashion designer as a kid. But it wasn't very practical long term, even with a few good customers. I still make them things, and it's good income for spending money…" Her mind flashed to Jagged’s last request. His stage outfit had mini fireworks that he could set off with a button. They were admittedly more like glorified sparklers, but she was likely the only person who had both the sewing and engineering experience to make it. The top of his guitar had a small fireworks launcher too. It was very Jagged. Excessive and flashy.
"Well, you are an excellent personal assistant. It really is your calling. I've never seen someone so able to predict someone's needs as well as you." He paused, obviously realising where his hand was along her collar bone and withdrew it.
"I'm really not a-"
"Yes you are that good!" he interrupted her correcting him on her actual occupation. He obviously thought she was going to put herself and her abilities down.
Marinette wasn't sure if she was flattered or exasperated. "I'm not-"
This time he placed his finger on her lips. She had to stop herself from kissing it.
"You've been absolutely amazing putting up with me. I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused. Is there any way I can make it up to you? Coffee? Dinner? Maybe a long walk in the park after? I'd like to get to know you better."
Was he- He couldn't be- "Are you asking me out?" she blurted out, pushing past his finger
"Do you want me to?" he asked smoothly.
"Ye- what about work? Aren't you my boss?"
"Technically, no. There's no conflict of interest. I'm just a shareholder and head of the board. You work for Lucius and I have no direct control over your job or salary."
She silently breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't been imagining her boss in highly inappropriate situations.
"So is that a yes?" he asked, reading her body language correctly. She nodded.
~~~~
Tim was thrilled. He had only had to flirt with her for a few days before he landed himself an information gathering date. And if she didn't turn out to be a villain, well, all the better.
When he arrived at her apartment to pick her up, he heard her talking to someone, but the voices weren't very distinct. He took out a small bug and rolled it under her door, putting the ear bud in.
"Are you sure this looks okay Tikki?" she asked.
"You're worrying too much Marinette, Tim is going to love you just the way you are," a second voice came through. It was very squeaky. Maybe it was distortion from a video chat or speakerphone?
"I can always just get rid of him," another distorted voice spoke.
Get rid of him? Was she the bait for an assassination? If she was, they would have a hard time of it. He had worn his Kevlar lined suit, and had the most important things from his toolbelt on him in various hidden pockets. He could always call for assistance if needed too.
"Plagg! No smiting on my date!" Another weird name. Code names?
"Wouldn't want you implicated, kitten. I'd do it after."
Good to know, Tim thought bitterly. So she was a mole and her partners did the dirty work.
"No sabotaging it either!"
"Are you sure he's the one?" the first voice asked.
"I don't know, Tikki. That's what the date is for," Marinette explained. "They're not all as easy as Adrien to figure out."
"Too bad the kid is gone now. Are you still sure we had to get rid of him?" Plagg asked.
The Tikki voice replied, "Yes. We took care of him. He's better off now up there anyways."
They… they had gotten rid of their partner? Or was he a previous mark?
Either way, it seemed as though they kept Marinette’s hands clean in it all.
"Yeah but, to completely obliterate him?"
"You know that's how it works, Plagg. It was us or the temple, and you know what they would have done. He knew too much," this time it was Marinette who spoke. What the hell had she gotten into? The League? Something worse?
He heard some rustling and footsteps towards the door. The voices came close enough for him to hear them properly. He only heard one set of footsteps, though, so it must have been a video chat.
"I need to get going. Don't want to be late!" Marinette said cheerfully. "You two stay out of trouble."
He gave a tug to the invisible wire he had attached the bug to, pocketing it again.
"Are you sure you don't want me to come? I could tail you. Keep a look out," Plagg offered.
"Yes, I'm sure! It's a date, not a mission. There's no enemy to fight tonight." She paused. "Besides, I'm not entirely useless without you, you know."
He took the chance to knock on the door before she opened it to find him lurking outside.
"Hey! You're on time!" she greeted him teasingly.
"Yeah, I figured my life depended on it," he replied sarcastically, gauging her response. She only giggled in what seemed like a totally innocent way. Considering what he had just overheard, she was a better actor than he gave her credit for. "Can't do it to you outside of work too."
He escorted her with a hand on her back, leading her to his car. He kept a defensible position throughout the ride and in the restaurant. He learned a lot about her in the next hour, probing her for her back story. It was very thorough. She must have practiced it for ages.
"I've been working for Wayne Enterprises for two years."
Tim thought that was an awfully long game considering he had only met her recently. It was odd.
"How did you manage to get the personal assistant job then?" he prompted.
"Oh, Lucius offered it to me directly. I was worried he was firing me at first! But it turned out that I just already had the clearance."
The assassin already had their top secret bat clearance?!
"But then- you know that-" he sputtered out loud.
"That you run around in spandex in your spare time? Yep."
"What do you want?" He needed to go on the offensive. He kept his tone light in case anyone managed to overhear him in their secluded booth.
"Want? Uhm, I think I'll go with the strawberry rhubarb pie for desserts!" she replied cheerfully, after turning her gaze down to the menu.
"I meant your job. Your other job."
"My designs? Well I just fused this Jagged Stone jacket with sparklers. Combining engineering with costume design is a lot of fun. Maybe some more of that?"
Huh? "I don't understand."
"Jagged Stone? You've heard of him, right?"
Unless he has been living under a rock, everyone had. "Yeah but what does that have to do with it?" he couldn't help but ask. He was missing something. There was no way she was that dense.
"You do know I'm not actually a personal assistant, right?"
"Yeah," he responded, the sarcasm dripping from him. Oh he knew alright. He just had to figure out who she really did work for… "Then what do you do?" he asked, not expecting the truth.
She responded in a quiet voice, leaning towards him, "I work for the Bat tech department."
Oh no. How had she skipped past Lucius and Bruce? Everyone there was usually horribly, invasively scrutinized. He would have to look into it.
"I fuse engineering and design in my off time to make unique costumes for performances. Like Jagged’s outfit."
"Interesting. How did you manage to land that job?"
"What? Girls can't be engineers?"
"No! Of course they can. That's not what I meant..."
He needed to switch tactics. She was giving him a suspicious look.
"So, uh, any brothers or anything that I should look out for? Shovel talks to be had?"
"Only child. Well, I guess Adrien would give you one."
"Adrien?" That was the name she had said earlier that they had killed.
"My friend - well, ex. Sort of. Its complicated. Closest thing I have to a sibling now."
"Have I met him?" Tim probed.
"No. He lives up in London with his aunt and cousin. He had a run in with some magic villain and his memory got wiped of the trauma from it… He doesn't remember we ever dated, because it was during that time… so now I'm just his good friend. It's better this way." Her smile was a bit watery but it seemed genuine.
Had he really just misunderstood everything? Still, he needed to be cautious. Something was up with her.
He kissed her cheek goodnight when he dropped her off. He would sleep in the batcave until he figured it all out.
~~~~
Tim walked into the top secret R&D lab the following morning. Marinette was indeed there, working on something that looked vaguely like the shock net and launcher he had requested last month. "Lucius, I need to talk to you. Privately."
Marinette watched, her eyes narrowed, as they stalked off.
"Why did you let Marinette into the department?"
"She's brilliant. She and Max have made more advances to your tech two years than we made in the previous ten."
"But the clearance? She's a villain! An assassin!" he proclaimed, his voice a bit louder than he intended.
Lucius began to laugh. "A villain? Hah hah! My boy - she and Max are retired heroes. Told me the whole thing after she got the job and figured you out. She was happy to help the fight again in a non-violent way."
Tim was floored. He'd gotten everything wrong in his jumping to conclusions.
He owed her a massive apology. And a real date, if she would have him.
"I think I need to go fix something. Thanks Lucius."
Lucius waved him off with an exasperated nod of the head.
He moved immediately towards her, ignoring Max working diligently beside her on the computer that went inside the launcher. He had requested it to have voice activation, just in case. "Have dinner with me tonight? I'd like to make it up to you."
"Make it up to me?" Marinette asked, the confusion on her face clear.
"I kind of thought that maybe you were a villain? I was trying to figure out who you worked for… I'd really like a chance for a redo."
Marinette looked sadder the longer he talked.
"So what was your conclusion? Am I a villain?" Her tone was bitter as she snapped back at him.
"No. I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. I'd really like to hear more about it… Lucius never said which one you were."
"So it's a pity sorry date this time rather than an information gathering date?"
Tim wanted to hit himself over the head. He had caused this mess. "No. No! I just like you. A lot."
"Hmm… okay. One last shot."
He would not screw it up this time.
"Oh, and…" she whispered the last part, "I was Ladybug."
Tim grinned. Looked like his teenage fantasies of being with Ladybug would come true after all.