Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Can you put your phone away, please?” Bruce chided Jason, his voice sounding slightly tinny over the coms.  “It’s rude.  At least pretend to pay attention to the gala and the people here.”

“There is absolutely nothing going on in the gala that’s worth paying attention to,” he grumbled without looking up to acknowledge him as he continued to type, not that there was anyone there to acknowledge anyway.

“Are you kidding me?” Stephanie trilled, excitement bursting through her tone and Jason’s ear drum.  “Selena and Vikki and Oliver are all here tonight.  And none of them are the one Bruce brought.”  Jason snorted and went back to typing with renewed vigor.

“I can hear you,” Bruce cut in.  His exasperation even this early in the evening came through clearly.

“She knows,” Tim answered for her.  “She just doesn’t care.”

“Ooohhh, is that Pixie?” she asked, trying to peek around Jason’s shoulder to see what he was typing.

He raised his elbow quickly, almost clocking her on the chin as he did.  She had to dodge hastily to avoid getting hit.  “Maybe,” he grunted.

Instead of scowling at him, her smile widened.  “Say ‘hi’ for me!”

“Fuck off,” he scowled.

“You didn’t invite her to the gala?” Bruce asked.

“No?” he scoffed.  He desperately wanted to flip him off, but there were far too many people between the two of them and Alfred would be disappointed when he found out.  And he would find out.  He always did.

“Why not?  I thought we were going to get to meet her tonight,” Dick pouted.  Jason could feel the hopeful look he’d worn at the mention of Pixie turn to a disheartened frown from across the room.

“Because then you’d meet her tonight,” he responded flatly, giving his brother the deadest of deadpan looks to go with it.

“So, when are we going to meet your girlfriend?” Dick asked.  The hopeful edge appearing back in his gaze.

“Never if I have my choice,” he scoffed.

“Probably better that way,” Tim teased with a playful smirk.  “Less likely to get attacked in our sleep by some insane assassin that way.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Jason growled.  He turned toward where he knew Tim was stationed with Kon and Cassie on the other side of the ballroom to glare at him.  “Maybe this is exactly why I don’t want you guys to meet her.”

“Okay, less chatter, more focus on the gala,” Bruce instructed sternly.  “Tim, stop antagonizing Jason.  Everyone, keep an eye out for anything suspicious and announce it on the coms if you find anything, but don’t forget this is for the Foundation.  If tonight goes well, we might be able to open a new clinic, so be charming… Jason,” he added at the end pointedly.

“Keep your shorts on,” he scoffed.  “I’m here aren’t I?  And not cursing out anyone… outside of the family.”

“And I’m proud of you for that,” Bruce agreed.  Jason almost flinched when his voice reached him in person instead of over the coms.  “Come greet guests with me.”

Jason threw his head back with a deep groan.  “Why am I being punished for behaving?”

Bruce rolled his eyes.  “You’re not.  You’re being rewarded.”

“This does not feel like a reward,” he scoffed, but followed behind him, plastering on a smile as he went.

“I think I see Marinette,” Bruce said consolingly.  “You like her well enough, don’t you?”

Jason studied him for a second before shrugging noncommittally.  “Maybe,” Jason huffed loudly, but his eyes darted around looking for her behind Bruce’s back, “she’s okay.”

He spotted her just before Bruce called out for her.  She looked stunning, which was no great surprise.  She stood out so strikingly, he was shocked he had missed her until then.  She was dressed in a floor-length red dress that skirted the line between sweet and sexy.  But, it wasn’t a bright, ladybug red.  No, it was a deeper, bloodier, Red Hood red.  Her silky hair cascaded down her exposed back, swaying slightly with each minute movement.  But it was when she turned around that truly took his breath away.  Her eyes glowed as reflections of the gala’s ambient lights flickered in them.  Her smile seemed to make the carefully calculated lighting significantly brighter.

“M. Wayne,” she greeted him cheerily, a markedly different greeting than the serious or fake or sultry greetings other attendees had used.  “Thank you for inviting me.”

Bruce raised his eyebrow almost imperceptibly.  To anyone not as familiar with him as Jason, or Marinette, they would have missed it and been taken in by the wide, fake smile.  He took her hand and bowed slightly.  “We couldn’t have a party without you.  You make all of our events that much brighter by your smile,” he crooned so over the top, Marinette almost choked out a laugh.  “Wouldn’t you agree, Jason?”

“Maybe,” Jason shrugged, but his eyes bored into Marinette.

Marinette raised an eyebrow at Jason but smiled for Bruce.  “Thank you, M. Wayne…”

“Bruce please,” he chided.  His charming persona on full blast.  Jason was just about ready to slap his overly familiar hands that were still holding Marinette’s hand like he might kiss her knuckles again, away from Marinette.

“Bruce,” Marinette responded obligingly.  “It really is a beautiful event.”

“Thank you,” he nodded slightly with an easy smile and finally let go of her hand.  “Nothing to do with me, I assure you.  But a great networking opportunity for you so…” he made a shooing motion toward the crowd.

Marinette chuckled and nodded back.  “M… Bruce.  Jason,” she acknowledged enchantingly and disappeared into the crowd.

Or at least she tried.  Jason’s eyes followed her around the room, never leaving her for too long.  She was easy enough to find, her red dress standing out against the rest of the attendees, but even if it hadn’t, he still would have been able to find her.  He always could.  He watched her walk from person to person, anxiety flickering in her eyes for a few moments before meeting each new person.  But she would invariably square her shoulders and march into battle.

He looked away before she could catch him staring like one of the lecherous old men who had been ogling her since she walked into the room.  It took several blinks and a shake of his head before he could focus.  It took longer than he would care to admit to tune back into the conversation he was supposed to be having with whoever Bruce had brought him to speak with.  His eyes found Marinette instead.  He sneered when he laid eyes on yet another lecher leering at Marinette.

His sneer eased into an appreciative gaze as he watched her chat animatedly with Kon and Cassie.  Her arms were flying out as she explained something, probably very simple, not remotely requiring so much expression, except that it was Marinette, so it would have been strange if she didn’t explain like that.  Cassie said something and Marinette threw her head back in a full body laugh that was so out of place in a high class, elegant gala, but was so very Marinette, that Jason’s resolve completely melted.

He stopped pretending to pay attention to the conversation he was supposed to be in when Marinette waved goodbye to Cassie and Kon and made her way in his direction, pointedly not looking at Jason.  Her hips swayed as she moved, not overtly, just enough to make his mind race, which, granted, didn’t require much… or anything really when it came to her.  Just seeing her eyes was enough.  Or her smile.  Or hearing her laugh.  Or… anything really.  And the occasional looks she would shoot him throughout the night, over her shoulder or under her lashes, only lasting a few milliseconds, nothing long enough for anyone else to notice, almost did him in.

He fought reacting when he felt a light touch brushing along his shoulder as a body passed behind him.  It was even harder when her breath tickled his ear.  “Not very subtle,” she cooed quietly enough only he could hear her words, but they hit him like a sledgehammer, driving the air out of his lungs.

A growl worked up from his chest and he spun quickly enough he was surprised his neck didn’t crack.  He shot his hand out to grab her arm before she could get away.  “Would you do me the honor of a dance, Ms. Dupain Cheng,” he prompted louder than strictly necessary.

She raised an amused eyebrow at him and had to purse her lips to keep from smirking.  “Of course.”

He wound through the crowd until they were in the middle of dance floor and pulled her closer than propriety allowed as the music started.  They moved in sync, as though they were one entity.  He relished the feeling of her against him; the heat against him, the way her soft body almost melded to his, the delicate tenderness of the bare skin of her back under his fingertips, the intoxicating fragrance of her perfume.  He brushed his face along her hairline, his lips lingering against her skin.

Marinette couldn’t help the small gasp that passed her lips.  “Careful, M. Todd.  We’re in public.”

He looked around as if only just seeing the people filling the ballroom.  His eyes widened in faux surprise.  “Oh!  That explains all the people.”

Her eyes were rolling before she even realized it, but quickly settled into a flat look.  “Your family is here.”

He made a show of looking around, without allowing his eyes to settle on anything.  “I don’t see them.”

She snorted inelegantly but covered it in his chest.  She glanced around quickly before returning her curious gaze to him.  “Jason?”  Her voice was soft, cautious.  He hummed in response.  “What are you doing?”

He traced the edge of her face lightly, his fingertips barely touching her skin, but still making enough contact to singe her, until his finger rested under her chin.  “I would have thought that was rather obvious.  I thought I was making it clear to the entire room.”

Her jaw dropped just enough for her lips to part slightly, drawing his eyes with so much force, he was incapable of looking away from her Red Hood colored lips.  “You sure about this?” she asked quietly.

He tightened his grip around her waist almost imperceptibly.  “Positive,” he whispered as he leaned down to finally connect their lips in front of witnesses for the first time.  They met in a soft kiss, that looked so intimate, so reverent, it felt like a sin to watch.

She stopped dancing to pull back and glance in his eyes.  “What made you change your mind?” She whispered.

“Maybe I’m tired of hiding,” he commented lightly and if she hadn’t known him better, she might have fallen for the offhanded delivery as he started them moving again.  “Maybe, I want to love you out in the open.  Freely.  In the light.  Maybe I’m done letting how other people will react affect how we love each other.  Maybe I realized you were right and I want this unconditionally too.”  He swept his hand over the back of her head and down her hair, letting the soft tendrils slip through his fingers.  “Maybe I’m done pretending and maybe you mean more to me.  Maybe,” he took a breath and met her eyes with a soft but determined look, “maybe I love you too much.”

He pushed her against himself so there was no space between them.  The soft look in his eyes turned deeper as he licked his lips.  “Maybe I want to kiss you anywhere, everywhere… public, private, on your body…”

“What the fuck am I hearing right now?” Tim whisper hissed, drawing the attention of the people around him, negating the purpose of whispering in the first place.  He offered them a tight smile and pulled Kon closer to him, trying to play it off as speaking to him.

“Oh my God, she’s Pixie!” Stephanie exclaimed excitedly, almost vibrating with excitement, not remotely caring about the stares she was garnering.

“First off, congratulations you two.  We’re very happy for you both,” Dick cut in loudly.  “Second, turn off your coms for conversations like this,” he begged.

“Ignore him, feel free to keep them on.  I’m invested now,” Stephanie cheered.  “I just need popcorn.”

Dick’s frustrated groan could be heard over the coms, even louder than Marinette’s embarrassed squeak.  “Third, how the fuck long has this been going on?”

“’She’s okay?’” Bruce asked, repeating Jason’s words from earlier, his voice mocking but light, an undertone of amusement clear.

“Maybe she’s a bit better than okay,” Jason conceded with a sigh.

“Maybe?” Marinette asked, her eyebrow and lips raised in bemusement.

Jason gently ran his fingers through her hair again as though he were smoothing it down, but in reality, using the feeling to ground him.  His touch was soft and light, almost reverent in his delicacy.  “Maybe every time I’ve said ‘maybe’ tonight I meant ‘definitely’,” he said softly.

Marinette’s smile brightened so much, she seemed to emit light.  Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears, almost incandescent in their beauty.  “Maybe I love you too,” she whispered.

His lips widened into a sappy smirk.  He leaned down until his lips were millimeters from hers.  “Maybe?”

“Definitely,” she amended, rising up to close the distance.