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Marinette’s first bad decision that night was going to the club to meet her friends.
The sticky floors and loud music were grating in the beginning as Marinette took a deep breath as stepping further into the club, eyes scanning through searching for any sign of her friends. She moved, ignoring the tug at the soles of her heels as she wove through the dancing bodies, spotting the small group near the bar.
The loud music and noise of others singing along did nothing for her nerves as she looked around, struggling to keep them in her sights through the crowds. Being jostled left and right, nearly tripping several times as she navigated through the masses.
She forced a smile on her face as she moved to join them, barely making it there before Chloe was pressing a shot into her hand, clinking her own before downing it. Marinette laughed, raising hers in salute before downing it as well, the slight burn of it sliding down her throat.
That was the start of the second bad decision of the night. Drinking.
The cheer from her friends and their enthusiasm was infectious as they pulled her out onto the dance floor. The small group laughing, pulling each other in to dance, grinding and taking shots, having the time of their lives.
“Go on!”
She shook her head as her friends pushed her forward towards her next mistake.
Enter bad decision three from stage right. The Pole.
Any other day Marinette would have shaken her head and backed out, content to sit back and watch her friends go up and laugh, but bad decision number two came in and granted her with some liquid courage, she laughed, feeling empowered by the booze and her friends, casually swung herself up onto the pole. Spinning around and up, climbing up the pole as if it were second nature to her.
She laughed as one of the male dancers came up. “Care for some company?”
“Only if you think you can keep up!”
His grin matched her glee as he joined, her friends cheered as the two worked the pole.
The two danced for however long. Marinette wasn’t sure how the passage of time was working right at the moment. Yet her dance partner had left, disappearing into the back and the night was hitting her, the group deciding it was time to call it a night.
Allowing for bad decision number four come in hot when Marinette said she’d be fine walking home. Alone.
“You guys live in the opposite direction. I’ll be fine. Besides I’m not too far from here anyways,” she told them, unfounded confidence in her words as she parted from the gaggle of friends.
She turned the corner, ramming into someone, knocking her off balance as she wobbled on her high heels, before a pair of strong hands gripped her, pulling her up and helping her to rebalance.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. A bit lightheaded but that's fine,” she said, taking a few stumbling steps back, almost falling once more as she misstepped, twisting her ankle. The sharp yelp as she picked her foot up, holding her arms out as if he was on a tightrope to help keep her balance. Gingerly she put her foot down, grimacing at the weight. “I take it back. I was fine.”
“Do you have anyone to call? Do you need any help getting home?”
“No, don't call anyone. I’ll be fine.”
“That’s not what you just told me.”
“I’ll make it on my own,” she replied, taking a few tentative, unsteady steps, gritting her teeth as she did so, the pain shooting up her leg.
“May I help you home?”
Marinette studied him for a minute before nodding, allowing him to scoop her up, with a soft ‘up you go.’
“My place is two down and four right.”
His soft laugh as he started moving in the general direction she gave him shook her gently as she began to giggle.
She punched in the keycode of her apartment’s front door before fished her keys out of her purse as she told her escort what floor she lived on in the elevator. She guided him down the hall to her door, struggling to get the keys into the keyhole and twist them giving a small shout of victory with the click of the lock opening.
She pushed open the door, her guest kicking it closed behind them as he put her down on the couch, moving to go lock the door.
“Do you have a first aid kit?”
“Mm?” she hummed softly, fighting back a yawn, as she threw an arm in the direction of the kitchen. “There should be on top of the fridge.”
“Do I want to know what warrant’s a kit this large?” he asked with a grin as he opened it up, pulling out some gauze and tape, gently taking her shoe off and holding her ankle carefully as he began to wrap it.
“‘m clumsy and need to help the heroes when they come to my balcony. Came. Doesn’t happen in Gotham like in Paris,” she said.
“Injured heroes show up on your balcony often?”
“Used to. Chat Noir usually. That’s all taken care of now so no need to worry. Thank you for the help- I don’t even know your name. I’m Marinette.”
“Dick.”
“Thank you, Dick. You’re really good at dancing. And strong. And beautiful,” she told him as he moved from tape to wrapping her ankle.
“You’re not bad yourself. It’s been a while since I did partner work like that. And all bandaged up for the gorgeous lady, you are all set-” he cut himself short, seeing Marinette had drifted off. He took off her other shoe and unwrapped the purse that had wound itself around her, picking her up once more and taking her down the hall, peering in the few doors trying to find her bedroom.
He moved carefully into the dark room, and pulled back the sheets, gently laying her down, trying to straighten but the arms locked around his neck refused to let go. He gently tried to disengage them, but she just pulled down, pulling him into the bed with her. Her grip was unrelenting and surprisingly strong as she slept, trapping him there. Dick let out a small breath as he pulled the covers over them.
—------------------------------
Marinette squeezed her eyes closed almost immediately after opening them, the light streaming through the window. She slowly opened her eyes the second time squinting to give her eyes a minute to adjust to the light, letting out a small groan as she rolled over, coming face to face with the man from last night. Her face heated up as she moved back, falling out of the bed with a loud thunk , a faint throb of her ankle came in response.
“Good morning.”
“I- Did I- wake- Did we- Um- I- Good morning!” she rushed out, dropping her head as she did.
The shuffling of sheets could be heard as her guest rolled out of bed as he began speaking in a rush as well.
“It’s not like that! Nope. Not at all! You were drunk and you wouldn’t let go. I tried to get you to let go- you are a lot stronger than I expected.”
Marinette turned beet red “I am so sorry about that. I’ve been told I’m an affectionate drunk.”
“Very cuddly.”
“Great,” she muttered, pulling herself up, rolling her ankle gently trying to warm it up before walking. “I’m so sorry, you’re Duke, right?”
“Close. Dick. I do have a brother named Duke though.”
She scrunched her face up at her mistake. “I'm so sorry Dick. Thank you so much for helping me last night. I can’t offer you a change of clothes but I can offer breakfast.”
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“I dragged you into bed with me while I was drunk, I don’t think you can overstay your welcome.”
He laughed. “That’s true. But I do need to get a run on. Family brunch is in an hour.”
“I won’t keep you then. Um, last night is kind of a blur, but I would love to get to know you better, maybe partner up again while I’m sober,” she said, digging through a bag and handing him a card, flashing a quick smile, her face growing beet red.
Dick grinned, taking the card and sliding it into his wallet. “I’d love that.”
She walked him to the front door, placing a quick, chaste kiss to his cheek as she said goodbye, before disappearing into her apartment, locking the door behind her as if that would provide an extra shield between her and her embarrassment from last night. Unaware of the grin on Dick’s face.