She's Sunshine, She's Grace, She'll Punch You in the Face

Chapter 9: Trash Talking the Liar

"Before you all spread out to go eat, I would like you all to welcome your teacher to Gotham." Dick says as he points to Ms. Mendeleiev walking towards them from down the hall.

The students' wave at their science teacher, some very unenthusiastically.

"I will be catching her up to date with everything while you all have lunch. Don't forget to show them your ID." Dick says as they disperse.

Marinette was just about to go catch up with her friends when she sees Chloe holding her hand up to stop her from across the cafeteria. She shakes her head at the bluenette and points to the boy standing next to her. All of her other friends nod in agreement. Sighing at her friends' antics, she turns her attention to Damian.

"Any suggestions on what to eat here?"

"Well, that Mexican place over there makes a decent veggie taco. Would you want to try it?"

"I'll try anything once. Let's go." Marinette grabs his hand and drags him to the small line that formed at the Mexican food place.

"Do you eat here often?" She looks up at the boy, still holding his hand.

"No. I'm usually at school at this time." He stares down at their joined hands. "But the few times I have been here, this has always been the most tolerable."

Marinette follows his line of sight and realizes that she is still holding on to him and quickly let's go. "Oh my God, I am so sorry." Damian looks back up into her eyes to see that she looked truly mortified. "I-I didn't mean to. I..."

"No." Damian cuts her off. "Don't be sorry. I don't mind it." He gives her an awkward smile. "You can hold my hand. If... If you want, that is."

"O-oh..." Marinette's cheeks go warm. "Okay... Sure." She whispers just loud enough for Damian to hear.

"I can take whoever's next." The woman at the cash register calls for them.

Damian holds out his hand for her to take. "Come on, Angel. Let's order some food."

Marinette stares at his hand for a moment before intertwining her fingers with his. She looks up to see him softly smiling at their hands. "Okay." The teen gives him a look just as soft. "I hope you are right about this food."
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"Wow, Damian." Marinette says excitedly. "This really is good."

"Wait until you try Alfred's food later tonight for dinner. If you think this is good, then you are in for a real treat."

Marinette freezes in her seat for a moment. "It totally slipped my mind that I would be staying over at your house for a while. My friends are going to completely freak out."

"Why do you say that?" Damian asked with a serious face.

"If you knew them, you would understand." She laughed to herself.

"Does this have something to do with the reason they are staring at us?"

"What!?" Marinette whipped her head around to see all her friends staring at her before they all quickly looked in any other direction besides the table she was sitting at with Damian. "They are so nosy."

"They aren't the only ones." Damian points to the far corner of the room. "Look."

Following the direction he is pointing in, Marinette sees Dick, Tim and Jason all staring at her. The three men wave when they see her looking at them. "Hey, is that Jason? How long has he been here?"

"All day." Marinette looks at him with confusion. "He doesn't really like your ex-teacher and he wanted to see her be sent away. We all told him to stay home, but he wouldn't listen. I told you my brothers are annoying."

"Jason is your brother too?" Damian sighed before nodding at her. "I mean I already connected the dots with Dick and Tim.... But Jason? How many kids has your father adopted?"

"Legally, just those three but we have a few more that might as well be adopted. They are family either way." He shook his head at the thought.

"You make it seem like that's a bad thing. I think its nice to know that Mr. Wayne is such a family man."

"I guess you could say that. Although Alfred tells me that once in his life before we all came around, he said he wanted nothing to do with family. That he wanted to 'work alone'."

Marinette laughed at the thought. "Well I'm glad life had different plans for him. He seems to be very proud of the large family he has now. Speaking of which, who is Alfred? From everything you have said about him, he sounds wonderful."

"He is our families butler, although he's more like a grandfather to us. He is by far the only sane person in this family besides myself and maybe Barbara."

Marinette opened her mouth to respond but Lila seemed to slide in between them out of nowhere. "Hi there, Derick." She was clearly trying to sound sexy. "On behalf of everyone from my class, I want to apologize that you have been stuck here with Marislut. I know you are just trying to be nice to not hurt her feelings, so I am here to save you." Lila bats her eyes at him.

Damian clenched his fists at his sides and stares daggers at the Italian girl. "My name is not 'Derick' you pompous simpleton. Get your facts straight before you saunter up here and decide to make a fool of yourself. And trust me, if I felt like not speaking to the lovely Angel, I would have done it a long time ago. Now begone from our presence, you self-riotous abydocomist."

Lila stared at him with her mouth hanging open for a few seconds before letting out a frustrated screech and stomping back to her table.

"I did not understand half the things you just said to her but I'm pretty sure that she has never been roasted so hard in all her life." Marinette went quiet for a moment before bursting into laughter. "You have to teach me to trash talk."

Basking in the glory of her bright smile, he fondly whispers "Anytime, Angel."

Finishing up her last bite of food, she checks the time on her phone. "It's been almost an hour already?" She stands up and grabs her tray with Damian quickly following suit. "Time really does fly when you are having fun."

Walking over to the trashcans with Damian, she throws her food away and takes his hand after he respectively throws away his. They walk hand in hand to their designated meeting spot and chat until the tour starts back up again.