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Marinette gets her first teaching job teaching French at a middle school in a fairly populated city in New York.
It’s nice, and most of the students are kind to her. They are eager to learn and she is eager to teach, and she does her best to build a community in her class. Within a few months, she gains a reputation for being open and giving her classes goodies that she bakes herself at home or in the school’s cooking classroom.
“Madame,” one of her students taps her on the shoulder. She looks up from the paper she’s grading.
“Oui, Alina, what has happened?” her students were taking a five minute break, as she had given them each a croissant she had made the night before.
“Do you mind, madame, if I take one of the extra croissants to the art teacher across the hall?” Marinette smiles.
“Of course I don’t mind!” She takes one of the flaky pastries, wraps it in a napkin and hands it to the girl. Alina beams and skips down the hall towards the art room.
~~
After the class ends, Marinette has a free period. As she packs her purse and prepares to leave the school building to go get lunch before her next period, however, a man knocks on the doorframe and steps through the open door into her classroom. Marinette is thoroughly confused, since she has never seen this man in her life. Still, she smiles at him, and he clears his throat awkwardly into his hand.
“I, uh, came to thank you,” he starts.
“For the croissant. It was very nice.” Marinette smiles, then nods.
“You are the art teacher? But I thought that was Monsieur LaGuarde?” the man shakes his head.
“Mr. LaGuarde was the interim art teacher, as I had already taken the job but was out of the country on, um, family business.” Marinette smiles again at him, then moves to give him her right hand.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Marinette, I teach French. Oh, but you probably already know that.” She looks around her room at the giant Eiffel Tower mural on one wall, and the posters of French celebrities and historical icons on the other. The art teacher takes her hand.
“Damian.” he says curtly, then nods once at her before leaving. Marinette shrugs, then finishes packing up.
~~
“Oh, mon dieu, mon dieu, mon dieu!” Marinette looks at her watch once more before speeding up her walking as if she could go faster than she already was. She thought she had taken care of her terrible time management but the night before she had stayed up until midnight talking with Adrien on the phone while she graded papers.
Now she was late, her first period students would be waiting, and she didn’t even have her coffee. She honestly didn’t know how she was going to make it through the day. Finally, she makes it to the door of her classroom, pushing it open to find it…
Empty. Completely empty.
Marinette starts to panic. Where have her students gone? Were they taken by a terrible kidnapper? Oh, god, she was going to get so, so fired for this.
“Madame!” She hears a voice behind her, and is relieved to turn around and see Oliver, one of her students.
“Oh, Olivér,” she says, her French accent playing up under the stress. “Olivér, where ees everyone?”
Oliver smiles, then gestures to the room across the hall. The art room, she remembers. Anxiously, she steps into the threshold of the classroom. Damian is standing near his desk, gesturing to the projection on the screen. On the rug in the back of the classroom, Marinette spots her students listening intently to him. Damian looks up from his computer and sees her, then walks over to the door.
“Monsieur, I'm so, so sorry.” she begins,
“I stayed up too late grading papers and then was rushed out the door and everything has gone, uh, how you say– down the hill from there.” Damian nods.
“It is fine,” he says. “Your class has been no trouble at all. You can collect them now.” Marinette smiles weakly before gesturing to her class to come back to their classroom.
~~
During her free period a few hours later, Damian walks into her classroom and plops a paper cup of coffee on her desk.
“Drink,” he says simply. “You look dead.” Marinette gives him a dry look before taking a tentative sip of the coffee. It’s warm, and the caffeine slowly fills up her system. She feels more energized already. Marinette thanks the man before settling into her chair to drink.
“I was wondering,” Damian says after a moment. She raises an eyebrow at him.
“We’re getting into a unit about French artists, and I was wondering if you’d like to collaborate on a group project. Our classes would get to learn some history and work together to create something. It’ll be very hands-on as well. Good experience.” Marinette takes it in, then nods.
“That seems like a good idea.”
~~
Two days later, every kid in their classes has been paired with someone from the other class. Their job is to research a French artist together, and then create their own painting replicating that artist’s style, along with a presentation.
Marinette sits at a free desk in the French classroom, Damian seated beside her. They watch as the pre-teens gather around computer screens and chat with one another. Marinette has to agree, this was a good idea. She turns to look at the other teacher, who is talking to one of his students, clarifying something. He has a particular look on his face, one that Marinette knows well. It’s the face she makes when her students’ pronunciation gets better, or when a struggling student finally understands something. Pride.
It’s a peculiar look on Damian’s usually very neutral face, and watching it, Marinette’s face grows warm. Oh no, she thinks. Oh no no no no no.
~~
The project continues, and Marinette’s crush only grows bigger.
Damian’s just so nice. He brings her coffee, not just the school’s watery, weak coffee but strong, sweet coffee. Every morning they have first period together. Despite the fact that she’s only ever seen him drink tea.
Marinette is also worried she’s being obvious.
Cherise, one of her students, comes up to them during one of their working periods and switches between looking at her and Damian suspiciously. Marinette had made him laugh for the first time since they had met, and she is completely aware of the look of wonder portrayed on her face.
Cherise finally asks her question, then runs back to her desk, where one of Damian’s students is sitting. They sit in comfortable silence, Marinette letting the buzz of classroom noise settle into the back of her mind. It’s nice, she thinks, to be here, right now.
She turns to look at Damian, and finds that he’s looking at her already. His face goes pink, and she watches curiously as he looks around at the students, the walls, out the window, anywhere but at her.
~~
The project is a big success. Her students had fun, and they learned a lot while also getting to make new friends and learn to work together.
For a while after the project ends, Marinette forgets that she doesn’t have to visit Damian’s classroom on a regular basis to figure out working times and talk about grading.
He still brings her coffee almost every day. It makes her feel appreciated, and she makes it a point to send over little goodies whenever she bakes them.
“Alina, do you mind taking one of the eclairs to Monsieur Damian’s classroom for me?” the girl gets up from her seat and slips to the front to collect the pastry.
“Of course not, Madame!” She races off, and Marinette waits for her to return. When she does, she relays a message as she returns to her seat.
“Madame, Mr. Wayne says that the eclair looks delicious and that it’s very sweet of you to send him one.”
“Oh.” Marinette breathes, blood rushing to her cheeks. She hears muffled giggles through the class, and turns to give them a halfhearted glare.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, Madame.” That's Oliver, who smirks and turns to his desk partner, Cherise, and whispers something to her. She cackles, and Marinette hums in response.
“Of course.”
~~
Marinette doesn’t know how the time flies by so fast. Suddenly, it’s February, and almost Valentine’s Day, something she has loved celebrating since she was a kid. She remembers fondly the days where people would come to her family’s bakery, which had these special Valentine’s Day cakes. They would be custom made, each one holding a message inside.
In the spirit of the day of love, Marinette is planning a little class party. Except Marinette doesn’t know the meaning of ‘little’ when it involves parties. She had now baked three types of sweets, made a large amount of pink lemonade, and had hand written a personal card for every student she taught expressing her appreciation for them. She knows that it seems like a bit much, but she loves to show appreciation for the ones she loves.
Speaking of people she loves, she had made a very special cake specifically for Damian. It was designed exactly like her parents’ Valentine’s Day cakes, and held a very important card inside. A declaration of her love, which she planned to give to Damian on the next day during the party.
~~
The next day arrives all too quickly and the French classroom is decked out in streamers and little hearts. There are vases scattered around the room, filling the classroom with the sweet smell of roses. Marinette beams, and hears a sound at the door. It’s Damian, and his class. They had been invited to join Marinette’s class, as she had made far too many goodies for just her own class. It also presented the perfect opportunity to give Damian his cake.
As his class bursts in and joins in the lively chatter of the room, Marinette notices that Damian is bringing what looks to be a very heavy cardboard box to her desk.
Damian opens the box and pulls out…
A very large, very expensive looking coffee maker. Marinette gasps.
“Oh my–Damian!” she chides him, slapping his shoulder. He smirks smugly.
“This cannot have been cheap.” He shrugs.
“No. But my family has too much money and it’s really not going anywhere. Besides,” he says, putting his hand on her shoulder.
“I hate that you’re always rushing to class and you get tired without your coffee. This way, you can make some without stepping foot outside your classroom. But then , I got thinking. If you have coffee, you’re going to need milk. And without a fridge, the milk is going to spoil. Which is why ,” he steps back out of the classroom for a moment and steps back in carrying a mini fridge . It’s a cool baby pink, and has her initials, MDC, embossed on the front.
“I got this, too.” he smiles, and places it carefully next to her desk.
“Oh my god , Damian, this is amazing .” She covers her mouth with her hand, then looks at him again.
“My gift is going to seem so lame in comparison,” she says, then pulls out her cake, which is covered in pink cream cheese frosting, and has his name written over the top.
“Marinette, this is equally as amazing.” Damian says, smiling in wonder at the baked treat. She takes out a cake cutter and serves them both a slice, sitting down to watch the students from her desk. Damian is silent.
Confused, Marinette looks at him to see that his face is beet red. He’s holding his plate of cake in one hand and in the other, a very familiar card. She forgot about the card. How could she forget about the card? The card had been the mistake of a very sleep deprived, been-baking-all-night Marinette. Therefore, she had completely forgotten about it in the morning. Oh crumb cakes, she thinks. He’s going to hate me now.
But Damian instead places both the card and cake on her desk and sweeps her into a hug. It’s tight, and she slowly wraps her arms around him to hug him back. After a moment, he lets go, and she looks up at him.
“Now kiss!” she hears, and both of them turn to see Cherise, sitting on one of the desks, her hands cupped around her mouth to amplify herself. In fact, the entirety of both of their classes are watching them, waiting in anticipation. She looks back to Damian, who grins at her.
“Should we give them what they want?” he says, and Marinette’s heart soars. She shrugs.
“Sure,” she fakes nonchalance, but cracks and a giggle escapes her lips. Slowly, Damian leans down to give her a kiss.
Both classes cheer.