Chapter Text
The wedding was a beautiful one. Large and white. Orchids and plum blossoms dripped from everything in sight, and the scent was overwhelming in the warm summer heat. Alya fanned herself beneath a large, wide-brimmed, flower-adorned hat from their perch in the back. The ceremony completed, everyone was making their way forward to give their congratulations to the beautiful couple. Nino and Alya didn't move, knowing they'd get their chance later.
"I can't believe how big their families are," she murmured to Nino, who laughed.
"Well, I think it's mostly the Tsurugi's. You remember Adrien and Marinette's wedding," he replied. Alya shivered at the memory.
"I could barely move, let alone dance."
"She did warn us."
"I didn't think she meant five hundred people literally," Alya huffed. They watched for a moment as Felix and Kagami fielded their family and friends, greeting them, kissing them on the cheeks, and exchanging a few words. Somehow, Marinette and Adrien had made their way to the front to greet the couple. They exchanged greetings and congratulations, Marinette speaking a while longer with Felix. Business, obviously.
"How are you liking Felix?" Nino asked, sipping from his drink. The ice was melting rather rapidly, and he didn't want it to muddle the taste. Alya gave a noncommittal shrug.
"He seems alright. It was nice of Chloe to recommend him, and Marinette clearly trusts him. I just need more time to adjust." For the past year, Alya had been acting more or less as the Coccinelle consigliere on top of her underboss responsibilities. Even with the occasional pointer from Chloe, after a while, it had become too much. Especially once she'd discovered she was pregnant. Chloe suggested Felix as their replacement consigliere, and Marinette hired him almost immediately. That was little more than a month ago.
"I still think we could've convinced them to merge," Nino said conspiratorially. Alya raised an incredulous eyebrow.
"You really think Mari would've gone for that?" Nino shrugged in response.
"They do most business deals together anyway, why not make it official?" Alya just laughed and shook her head into her non-alcoholic beverage. After a moment, Alya glanced around, having lost their friends in the crowd.
"Speaking of, where'd they go?"
"Oh, someone wanted to meet with them. Offers, refusals, yknow. I assume they're in the house." Nino made a face as if to say; See what I mean? Alya just ignored it.
"I told her to stop doing that," she huffed.
"I think they're both too involved to stop," Nino replied. "If you run Paris, you don't really get off-hours."
"I suppose you're right," Alya conceded. She paused for a moment. "I think it started after she started getting more public."
"Sounds about right." They sat in silence for a bit, waiting for their friends to return, and watching the newlyweds get swarmed. After a while, the band struck up, and people hit the dance floor and began mingling with each other, giving Felix and Kagami a moment to breathe. Felix held out a hand and guided her to the dance floor, and they both kept their heads close, talking quietly, just to each other.
Deep inside the house, the distant sounds of celebration could barely be heard in the darkened room in which Chat Noir and Ladybug presided. Ladybug sat stoically behind a large, walnut desk, and Chat Noir had taken his perch standing behind her, his hand resting lightly on the back of the leather-clad chair.
A small man stood before them, his shoulders proud, but his eyes shifting and nervous. He was in the middle of speaking.
"—my daughter, Manon. She's being th-threatened by some young men at her school. She tells me it's drug-related, n-narcotics or something. I'm worried for her safety. They keep threatening to h-hurt her, to do h-horrible things to her, and that they'll be protected because of their c-connections.
"I know you must be v-very busy, but I have always been loyal. Always, to you, Chat Noir. You've supported my wife's career since day one, and we've always been so very grateful. But these young men are a danger, and I think it would be a benefit to you, as well, to rid Paris of these foolish boys."
Silence met his grand speech. Ladybug and Chat Noir hardly moved, eyes fixed on the man before them. The bravery he'd found by the end of his tirade melted away as their expressions remained unchanged. Finally, Chat Noir spoke.
"Monsieur Chamack," he said lightly, though his tone was anything but friendly. "You come to us today, on a day of celebration, in the hopes that we might honor your request. Perhaps you thought we might be in better spirits and more lenient because of the joy that surrounds us on this occasion. Furthermore, you declare that you have been loyal all your life. You seem to forget that after our generous loan to Madame Chamack to start her reporting career, you never came back. You never thanked us, you never offered your assistance, you never admitted your debt to us." As Chat Noir's tone grew graver, Monsieur Chamack seemed to lose color. Chat Noir paused to allow the gravity to sink in.
"But you are right. We do not want these foolish young men to taint our dear Paris with their drugs."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," the man cried out, clasping his hands as though in prayer. "I'll never forget your generosity. I am indebted to you." It seemed he would continue his tearful thanks before Chat Noir raised his hand. He cut off, abruptly.
"But we will not kill them, as you so tactfully suggested."
"You must see that the punishment does not fit the crime," Ladybug spoke without missing a beat. "These young men are only making threats. Killing them would be a waste of blood and bullets. We will give them a taste of their own medicine with threats of our own. If they need more convincing, we'll handle that too. But do not ask us to do something you wouldn't be willing to do yourself. As Chat Noir has reminded you, you are in our debt. In the future, when we call upon you for repayment, hesitation is not an option."
"O-of course, yes." The man stuttered, stiffer than before.
"Everything comes with a price, Monsieur Chamack. Your daughter's safety, our resources. Your safety, your resources." Chat Noir's eyes glinted in the low lamplight. "Do we understand each other?"
"Y-yes, Monsieur."
"Good. You are dismissed."
"I think we'll be leaving." Alya and Nino twisted around to see Adrien and Marinette, back from their secretive meeting. They were fairly expressionless, with only a hint of amusement in their eyes from the events going on around them. Marinette hung on Adrien's arm, less of an adornment and more of a balance in their expression of power.
"You'll miss the cake!" Nino replied, indignantly.
"We're making people uncomfortable. Just as well, we have some business to attend to." She said, her smile relaxed.
"Your reputation precedes you," Alya joked, lifting her glass in humor. Adrien laughed and placed his hand on his wife's.
"I'm afraid it tends to, these days," he said, looking down at her. She looked back, as though sharing a private joke. "We'll see you tomorrow evening?"
"I should hope so," Alya said, shooting Marinette a look. "I didn't buy a new dress for nothing." The Couffaines were hosting another one of their floating casinos, and this was proving to be one of the larger ones they had planned. Marinette would be attending if for no other reason than to supervise, but of course, she'd be playing as well. It was the closest thing she and Adrien could get to a proper date these days.
"You're really leaving so soon?" Nino raised a critical eyebrow. Marinette and Adrien looked at each other. Marinette was getting that look in her eyes, slightly mischievous and more than a little flirtatious.
"... I suppose we could dance for one song," Adrien suggested, nodding over to the dance floor. She grinned.
"I like the sound of that," she said. "Will you be joining us?" She asked, glancing over to Alya and Nino.
"Of course," Nino accepted, standing and offering his hand to his wife. All four of them made their way to the outdoor dance floor, and a light and jazzy number began, played by the talented band on stage. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as they avoided eye contact, but the couple hardly seemed perturbed. Adrien grasped Marinette's hand and waist and pulled her close. He looked down at her, that cool sense of yearning he always had around her, obvious in his expression.
"Remember our wedding?" He asked, his face soft.
"Of course," she replied, the corner of her lips pulling up.
"I didn't want to let you go." He pulled her closer still, as though to emphasize his point. Marinette laughed.
"I didn't want you to." They swayed together as the song petered out, only to be replaced by something a little more energetic. Marinette spotted Alya and Nino having the time of their lives, twirling and laughing together. She looked back at Adrien and saw him watching her with a faint smile. He nodded once, pointing his chin back toward the house. She nodded and grabbed his arm as they weaved through the crowd. It wasn't too difficult. When people caught a glimpse of them, they practically dodged out of the way.
Marinette had finished mourning her anonymity. It had never been truly sustainable, and there was something so refreshing about being able to conduct her business the traditional way.
They held hands as they made their way back to the street and to their respective cars.
"Did Nino tell you they've asked us to be godparents?" She asked, squeezing his hand.
"He mentioned it, yes." He grinned. Truly, he was thrilled.
"I'm so happy for them," she sighed, a gentle smile on her lips. Adrien hmmed in agreement, lifting her hand and pressing his lips there.
"See you for dinner?" Marinette asked, reaching up and adjusting Adrien's lapels. He smiled down at her and kissed her briefly.
"Of course, My Lady." She smiled.
"Be safe, Chaton."
"Always," he shot her a wink and held her door open for her, and tipped his hat to her as she drove off. He jumped in his own vehicle and sped away, leaving the celebrations behind him.
Later that night, they met outside their home, having both returned from their respective business. Adrien smiled, opening the door for his wife and stepping in after her. She'd changed since the wedding earlier. Her coat was close to matching his, although her lapels were colored her signature red. As he helped her remove her coat, a double-breasted, pleated red suit dress was revealed beneath, causing his heart palpitations.
She thanked him, kissing him on the cheek, and led him up the stairs, where they began to dress down. They removed their masks and tucked them away, still hidden, though not from each other. Adrien loosened his tie and set his .357 revolver in the top drawer of his bedside table, Marinette placing her pistol in her own. She removed her heels and hung her coat up in their shared closet. Adrien hung his coat and suit jacket next to it.
As she carefully folded her day gloves away, Adrien came up behind her and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She leaned her head back and kissed the side of his neck.
"How was business?" he asked, as they headed back down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Good. We've found another location that would be useful to add into our floating casino rotation," Marinette replied, stepping away from his side and reaching into the cabinet for one of their larger pots and setting it on the stove. "I do have some bigger news as well. We've found someone willing to turn rat and work with us in that underground drug ring."
"That is very good news," Adrien nodded, beginning to chop carrots and onions as Marinette lit the flame on the stove.
"They should be dealt with by the end of the week." Marinette nodded, satisfied.
"I'm glad to hear it. If you need any assistance, let me know." He shot her a wink, and she just smiled.
"How about you?" She asked, pouring some olive oil into the pot and watching Adrien begin on the celery.
"Things are going well. I had to deal with an insubordinate client today, but I just had to threaten him a little bit before he repented and swore loyalty again. He's always been like that, though, so I don't like going too hard on him." He'd finished chopping the veggies, and Marinette took the cutting board from him and swept the small pieces into the hot oil, where they sizzled before she began stirring. He reached into the island drawer and began slicing the zucchini as Marinette reached into the cabinet for tomato sauce, beans, broth, and ditalini.
"Nino really thinks we ought to merge," Adrien spoke up as they waited for the vegetables to soften. Marinette sighed, tiredly.
"It's not a bad idea, but you know how stubborn I am," she replied with a wry smile.
"I'm not saying I agree with him–"
"I know," she reached over and squeezed his hand. "I just think we work well enough like this. I like coming home and being able to describe different days to each other. I especially like being able to choose when we work together and on what. Can you imagine how complicated it might get if we were co-dons?"
"I agree completely–" His sentence was cut short. Marinette was gesticulating with nervous energy now.
"And what would happen to our underbosses and consigliere's? We'd have to choose which one to keep, and that's a difficult decision."
"Of course–"
"I just think we're better off working like this, don't you?" Marinette said, looking into Adrien's eyes, who had come quite close. He gripped her waist and looked at her with loving amusement in his eyes.
"I do." He leaned down and kissed her temple. She relaxed under his touch and closed her eyes.
"Good," she replied, relieved. "Now," she said, pushing him away slightly. "Can you hand me the tomato sauce?"
"With pleasure," he said with a wink.
The minestrone was finished quickly, and Marinette swept off to set the table, Adrien behind her carrying the large pot and a hot pad. Adrien snuck back to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of pinot noir and two wine glasses. Marinette smiled, but raised an eyebrow at him. Adrien just raised an eyebrow back, conspiratorially.
They sat across from each other, and Marinette served them both generously. They ate in comfortable silence for a bit before Adrien broke it.
"Our anniversary is coming up," he mentioned. She grinned.
"I'm pleased you remembered."
"Is there something in particular you'd like to do to celebrate?" He asked, blowing gently on the spoonful of minestrone before him. She pursed her lips, thinking.
"I'd love to go dancing," she sighed, dreamily. "But it can't be too public; we'd make a scene."
"Fair enough," he smiled. "I'll look into it. There might be a private bar we can visit that isn't one of our own."
"Thank you," she said, sipping her wine.
"No trouble at all, amore mio." They hit a short lull in the conversation, but it didn't last long.
"I liked dancing with you today," Marinette spoke, gazing at him thoughtfully.
"I did as well. It reminded me of our wedding." Adrien smiled back, reminiscing.
"Yes..." She trailed off, staring off into the distance as though daydreaming. Adrien watched her for a moment before standing and offering his hand. She looked up at him in surprise.
"Come on. You'll need some practice if we're going to wow everyone on the dance floor," he grinned, teasingly.
"I need practice? You must be mistaken," Marinette replied, taking his hand with a grin and a competitive glint in her eye. "I seem to remember leading you for part of our dance earlier today." Adrien laughed as he guided her to the living room.
"Me? I would never. I'm classically trained, you know." He said with that feline grin of his and switched on the radio. Something slow and warm filled the air, and he pulled her close, grasping her hand in his.
"Adrien Agreste, I happen to know you have a thing for powerful women," she teased as the tune faded away.
"Only one," he said, looking down at her, dopishly. As the lively, bouncy tune of Ça, c’est Paris came on, he immediately swept her up into a Charleston. Mon Dio, he loved hearing her laugh.
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