Gotham's Own Ladybug

One

Marinette gazed at the dull building before her, faltering at the steps. The structure was just around the same size as Francoise DuPont High School, the school that she had been attending not so long ago. She looked down, deep in thought.

What if I can't do this? What if someone recognises me?

The only comfort she had was the nuzzling of two kwami, nestled within her blazer pocket - not only for warmth but to calm her.

With a deep breath, Marinette made her way up the school steps to the doors of the school, opened them, and peeked inside.

The first thing that caught her eye was that the hallway seemed relatively empty, save for a few groups of students chatting idly here and there.

With new-found confidence, mainly from Tikki and Kaalki's presence, she strode from the entrance to the head office, trying to ignore the snippets of conversation she caught revolving around her.

When she reached the office, a woman wearing a thick set of rimmed glasses looked up, ginger hair flowing from the movement. "What can I do for you?" she asked, a welcoming smile on her face.

Marinette found herself unconsciously relaxing, as she greeted with, "Hello. I'm a new student here and I was hoping for a timetable, please?"

The woman immediately picked up on her heavy French accent, but didn't mention or ask about it. After a few seconds of typing on the keyboard in front of her, the young woman questioned, "Right. Marinette Iszel, correct?"

Marinette nodded hastily, anxious that her false surname would be criticized. She mentally let out a sigh of relief when the woman only said, "Okay, here's your timetable."

Handing over the sheet of paper, she informed, "Your tour guide should be here soon."

Marinette's brows furrowed, but before she could say anything, a male voice called, "Mrs Simmonds, you wanted me to see you today?"

She looked behind her and saw a teen with dark hair and cloudy green eyes, that seemed to shimmer with wonder as they met hers. Another pair of emerald irises wormed their way into her mind, until Mrs Simmonds exclaimed, "Yes, Damian!"

Said boy broke the eye contact from Marinette, glancing at the woman as she explained, "You will be giving this new student a tour of the school, and help her out for the day."

Damian saw how the girl beside him tensed, fidgeting with her fingers, before turning to him and greeting, "My name is Marinette, and it's a pleasure to meet you, Damian."

She held her hand out and he shook it, almost in a daze. He took in her freckled face and bluebell eyes, that seemed to stare into his as he studied her. Red ribbons held her midnight hair in pigtails, that almost appeared navy in the sunlight.

"Marinette has just moved to Gotham, Damian. So, I'm expecting you to make her feel welcome and show respect," the woman said in a stern tone, receiving a nod from Damian.

"Great!" she said. "Have a good day, Marinette! Hopefully you can get used to Gotham Academy!"

"Thank you."

Damian then walked out of the office, Marinette in tow. She noticed how most students had now cleared out of the hall, leaving them alone.

It was quiet for a few seconds, until Marinette broke it by saying, "I'm sorry."

Damian turned in her direction, and asked, "Sorry for what?"

"Stopping you from learning in lessons because I needed a tour guide," she responded truthfully, head faced down. Damian was caught by surprise, mouth agape.

"Don't worry, Marinette," he assured. "It wasn't a bother. Besides, I have an excuse to miss out on lessons."

That coaxed a giggle out of her, and a small smile spread on Damian's face. Her laughter almost sounded like tinkling bells in his ears, however he shook off the thought of wanting to hear it more.

"Let's begin the tour then," he casually said, already walking off and planning their route of the building in his head. She followed close by, and Damian took note of how her eyes seemed to dart from the shadowed areas of the corridor back to what was in front of her.

Strange, he thought.

~*~*~

The shrill sound of the dismissive school bell rung, signifying that the students could leave. Marinette placed her sketchbook in her backpack, thankful that she still had it and its belongings after the whole debacle of teleporting to Gotham.

A few minutes prior, Damian and Marinette had sat down together in the spacious library, with the girl quick to sketch out ideas with her pencil. Damian noted how her tongue ever so slightly stuck out of her mouth while she worked, and had to fight the blush forming on his face.

Throughout the day, Damian had become less guarded around Marinette, and begun to confide in her about his life. She learnt that he spoke fluent French, which was great news for her, had three adoptive brothers, and a butler in his home.

It almost reminded her of her partner - well, the person who used to be, anyway - with his subtle hinting at living in a mansion with his father's assistant. She almost pitied Chat Noir, before she remembered what he'd done.

Master Fu.

It had taken a few nudges from Tikki and a concerned Damian Wayne to break her out of her stupor, and carry on following the tour guide. The building was much larger on the inside, sporting gargoyle statues and grey carpets, though the dull atmosphere didn't steer her away from her creative side.

They both walked out of the school doors beside each other, Marinette glancing around for the distinct car that would take her home. When she finally noticed it, she turned to Damian and thanked, "I really appreciate you showing me around today." She giggled, "Even if you didn't exactly have a choice."

Damian gave a small smirk, saying, "It wasn't a big deal, Angel." It wasn't until Marinette's face was dusted in pink that he'd realised what he'd called her.

"S-Sorry!" he apologised, only for Marinette to assure, "Don't worry, Dami. You can call me that nickname if you want."

Then, her head hung low as she mumbled as an afterthought, "As long as you don't call me what he did..."

Damian lifted a brow, and asked, "What did he call you?"

Only now noticing he was still there, she requested, "Is it okay if you don't call me Princess or M'Lady?"

Even though he couldn't understand who had called her that, or why she didn't like the names, he nodded in understanding.

"Thanks!" she said, smiling.

A buzzing noise broke through the comfortable silence, as Marinette pulled out a phone from her blazer pocket, checking to see who the caller was. Her eyes widened, and she sent a glance to a silver Mercedes parked across the road.

"Oh - sorry, Dami! One of my aunts is here to pick me up! So...I'll see you tomorrow?" she fumbled, twiddling with her fingers.

Damian noticed that it was a habit of hers when she was nervous, and so placed a hand on her shoulder, only for her to flinch in response. Straight away, she took in what she did and said, "I-I'm sorry, Damian! B-Bye!"

Her feet led her to the Mercedes, as she pointedly ignored the gaze she felt watching her enter the car. The windows were tinted a solid black, preventing Damian from seeing who was in it.

The driver only waited a second before driving off at a speed that was definitely over the limit by a few miles. Damian broke out from his daze, and pondered as to why Marinette had recoiled from his touch.

Am I that intimidating?

Why did her discomfort bring me discomfort too?