mind over mask

fifty-eight

Marinette's POV

I practically spent the entire summer at Wayne Manor. It became my second home.

With ominous threats hanging over our heads, yet once again, it only made me push myself harder. If I couldn't be the best, I would be great. If I couldn't be great, I would be good. I would never let myself fall from the standards I had set for myself.

Days and weeks I spent, neglecting anything that didn't have to do with Ladybug or the BatFamily. This summer I had hardly enjoyed, I had a job to do, which made school on the near horizon difficult to process.

So, I distracted myself. And when August came, I had a perfect excuse to focus on designing.

Specifically, August 15th. Alfred and Jason's birthday. I had the perfect presents for each, Damian had assured me, but I had rocky moments with Jason. We kept butting heads. And Alfred was basically Damian's grandfather, so I wanted to do something he'd appreciate that was still practical.

Luckily, Dick took care of all the decorations, and Tim ordered a cake. Heaven knows that only Alfred, Jason and I could cook something in the kitchen without burning the manor down.

Bruce cleared his day from work, like he did every year for this double event. Even the years where he thought that Jason was lost and dead.

There was no point in a surprise party, everyone in the house knew something would be happening tonight. And in typically Alfred manner, he refused to ever take a day off.

Jason, however, took his birthday as a liberty. In this life, sometimes you'd ever doubt you'd make it to the next one. Celebrations meant a little more because you knew they were limited. We survived off of borrowed time anyways.

Tim entered the kitchen, where I was asking Dick if there was anything I could do to help tonight, when Tim became a little too distracted to his phone and walked into the wall.

In his other hand, was the cake for tonight. Which went flying through the air. Dick's eyes widened and he leapt immediately into action.

Tim held his face in his hands, refusing to see if Dick would indeed catch the cake in time. Dick did.

He caught the box—upside down.

What had happened in mere seconds, would ruin the party only hours away.

"Maybe we can fix it," I said futilely.

Dick slid it onto the counter, and opened the box carefully. Clumps if cake and icing stuck to the lid, and the careful cursive icing was unintelligible.

"We can't order another cake in time," Tim panics, pulling out at his hair.

"There's no fixing this, Marinette." Dick groans, "We just need one night out of the entire year where everything goes perfect. For Jason and Alfred."

"Sorry Dick." Tim says, half annoyed and half sincere.

"It's not your fault Timmy. We'll figure something out." Dick says.

"I can just make a cake," I offered. "What flavors does Alfred and Jason like?"

"Wait, wait, wait, do you have time?" Dick says.

"Have you made cakes before?" Tim asked.

I rolled my eyes, and stretched my back, "I grew up in a bakery. Of course I know what I'm doing. In fact, if I start right now, I could make a cake for each."

"Really?" Dick asks.

"Mhm. But if I want to have time to ice them, I have to start—" I mumble, rummaging around the kitchen for the ingredients I would need.