Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

A Fashionable Endeavor

Adrien intercepted Gabriel when he was headed to his office from the atelier with a handful of paper sketches in his hand.

“Are you going to host anything at the event?”

Gabriel glanced up from his work. “What?”

His son continued toward him with his phone outstretched. “For the Ladybug and Chat Noir community event, of course. Haven't you heard about it?”

Ugh. Not another one of these events. How much more standing around pretending to adore his archenemies could his sanity take? Adrien reached him and he accepted the offered phone.

“Mayor Bourgeois is making another Ladybug and Chat Noir appreciation event,” Adrien began. “A bit like that first fair we went to together.”

Despite the circumstances, Gabriel smiled a bit as he thought back to that day – complete with all of the annoyances, failed costume contests, and overwhelming sensations. But the smile was due to the happiness Adrien exuded all day. Happiness that Gabriel was all too eager to encourage after his wife's disappearance.

“But this time,” Adrien continued, oblivious to Gabriel's reminiscence, “Mayor Bourgeois wanted to have the citizens of Paris show their appreciation by hosting their own events. Jagged Stone, XY, and Clara Nightingale are all giving singing and band lessons. There's going to be a cooking demonstration, a miming performance, and even animal handling from the zoo.” Adrien ticked off the events on his fingers as he listed them aloud.

Gabriel scanned through the article as he listened to the teenager explain. Apparently, in addition to giving lessons and demonstrations, most of the people hosting segments concluded with a contest – and the winner would get an experience with the host. The singers planned to have their winners record a song in the studio with them, the chef an opportunity to work in the kitchens at the Grand Paris Hotel, and the actors offered a spot as an extra on stage at their next performance. He read through the names of a bunch of other well-known names and faces of prominent citizens in Paris and their contributions to the event.

“So, are you going to apply to host an event?” Adrien asked. “Ladybug and Chat Noir have expressed their approval and offered to act as judges for some of the contests.”

“What would I be able to offer?” Gabriel asked.

“You could do a fashion show,” Adrien replied, his response a bit too hasty for someone who just thought up this on the fly. Gabriel narrowed his eyes. Did his son have this planned out already? “And you could have the winner shadow you at the office.”

Gabriel winced at the thought of some kid on his heels all day.

“Er, or you could have them shadow one of your other designers,” Adrien amended, catching sight of Gabriel's expression. “I'm sure Ladybug would be happy to co-judge the contest with you. She's said many times you're her idol and she's really into fashion.”

“I'll think on it, Adrien,” Gabriel said, handing the phone back to his son.

Adrien frowned for a brief moment, looking as if he wanted to say something more. Instead, he just nodded. “Okay, Father,” he said, before turning around and heading to his room.

Gabriel continued to his office. Once inside, he pulled up the details of the latest convention on his computer and spent the rest of the afternoon weighing the pros and cons of hosting his own fashion contest. The hours melted away as he plotted and planned and before he knew it, the day had faded into night. But still, he continued working through the late hours into the early morning.

His designs lay forgotten on the corner of his desk.

In the morning, he managed to catch Adrien before the boy went to school. “I've decided to enter and host a fashion show contest, as you suggested,” he told him.

Adrien's eyes lit up and an enormous smile grew upon his face. “Wow, thank you, Father! This is going to be amazing!”

After Adrien left, Gabriel had Nathalie submit an application outlining his plan for a fashion show complete with a grand prize of spending a day in the Gabriel offices shadowing the designers. Then he spent the rest of the morning making up for the time he had lost the previous day, working on his designs and finalizing details on the sketches.

The next afternoon, his tablet dinged with a notification from the Ladyblog about a new interview posted during lunchtime. He swiped open the screen and clicked on the video to watch. The screen spent a moment buffering before the blogger flickered into view.

“Hello, fellow Parisians,” Alya began with a smile. “We're here to talk to Ladybug and Chat Noir about the upcoming appreciation festival in their honor.” The camera panned over to his two enemies, who waved hello. “For starters, how do you guys feel about a festival that's all about the community giving back to Paris?”

Chat Noir spoke first. “I think it's great, Alya. I love all of the conventions that this city has held – and believe me I've been to my fair share of them in my civilian form – and I just love the idea of people who we have helped doing something for everyone in the city.”

Ladybug nodded. “It feels more like a festival of cooperation and sharing of talents, rather than just a monument to us.” Her cheeks reddened slightly. “I love the idea of us helping out all of the different talented people ourselves.”

“Oh?” Chat Noir said, turning to her. “Are you planning on showing up to a few of the contests?”

She shrugged in reply. “Why not? It's only fair we offer our assistance when we can.”

Chat agreed with her. “I've already talked with a few of the sponsors of their individual events, and they've agreed to let me help judge some of the contests.”

“Really?”

Chat nodded with a smile. “Yeah. I'm really looking forward to the cooking contest most of all,” he said with a wink. “What about you? Are you excited about any in particular?”

“They all sound amazing,” Ladybug said, ever the diplomat. “I'm not sure I can decide.”

“Really? Not even the fashion contest?”

Ladybug froze. “What?”

“Gabriel Agreste is hosting a fashion contest,” Chat explained. Ladybug's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “You've told me before that you like fashion. That doesn't interest you?”

“I had no idea...” Ladybug murmured, clearly uninformed about this development.

“I'm sure he would love having you guest judge with him,” Chat said, and Gabriel was grateful he didn't have a mouthful of drink or he would have spat it all over the desk.

Ladybug blushed. “Chat, you can't just volunteer me for someone else's contest,” she chided. “Mr. Agreste doesn't need any help judging fashion.”

“Yeah, but he's our biggest fan,” Chat pointed out, and Gabriel groaned in embarrassment. Was that really going to be his legacy? “I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you co-judged with him.”

“W-well, if he were to ask,” Ladybug said, biting her thumb in uncertainty.

After he got over his initial shock, Gabriel admitted that it might be nice to have another opportunity to get close to Ladybug and uncover more hints to her identity. He began to draft an email to send to Alya through the Ladyblog formally inviting the heroine to be his co-judge in the contest. He peppered his email with enough gushing praise to appeal to Ladybug's ego, though she didn't seem like it would take too much convincing to get her to assist that day.

Not more than an hour later, he received an answer from Ladybug stating that she would be honored to judge with him. He smiled. The first step in his plan was a success. Hopefully, this would be a foreshadowing of things to come.

Word quickly spread that Ladybug would be judging his competition and the entrants to the contest started pouring in. Some were attracted by the opportunity to get critique from him, some by the job shadow prize, and some to get the chance to meet Ladybug in person. Gabriel was reading through the list of attendees when Adrien poked his head into the office.

“Hey Father,” he said. “Marinette hasn't gotten any info from the contest yet, is there something I can give to her in school tomorrow?”

Gabriel glanced over to his son. “Your friend hasn't registered yet,” he said. He had been keeping an eye out for her name as well, hoping to see what talented creations she would present.

“What?” Adrien stepped into the office and headed over to Gabriel. “She said she was going to register the other day,” he said. “Can you sign her up for me? I'll just give her the packet tomorrow.”

The elder designer shook his head. “I can't do that, Adrien, that's against the rules. Tell Marinette to register again and wait for the confirmation.”

Adrien frowned and bit his lip. “Oh okay then,” he said. “By the way, can Marinette and a couple of other friends come over tomorrow? We're working on a project together for class.”

“That's fine, Adrien. Please keep the noise down as I'm working on a tight deadline to get these designs finished before the convention.”

“Sure, Father. Thank you!”

And he vanished before Gabriel could say another word. With a shrug, the designer returned to his work.

The next day, Gabriel heard the sounds of Adrien and his friends coming through the front door. Despite his insistence they keep the noise down, he wanted to greet them. And speak with Marinette about signing up for the contest if she was having difficulty navigating the website.

He stepped out to find the kids in an animated discussion about the very thing he wanted to discuss.

“Girl, c'mon and tell me what you're going to design!” Alya wheedled.

The girl in question bit her lip and glanced to one side. “I don't know if I'm going to enter,” she mumbled.

“Why not?” The chorus of surprise came from all three teens.

“Well, my parents might need me at the bakery that day,” Marinette began.

Adrien shook his head. “Nope!” he declared with a proud smile. “I went over to the bakery yesterday and told your parents that Father was hosting a contest and that we both really hoped you would be able to enter, but that maybe they might need your help that day. Your mother assured me they could handle any orders alone. You're free to register!”

“W-what?” The young designer paled – her ghostly pallor standing out in stark contrast against her dark hair.

“Unless there's another reason you don't want to enter,” Adrien continued, and for the briefest second Gabriel sensed his son's smile sharpening like a predator about to devour its prey. He blinked, and the moment vanished. Must be the stress of staring at the computer all day long getting to him.

“No way, girl, you're not flaking on this contest. It's your dream to become a fashion designer. You usually would kill for this job shadowing opportunity.” Alya was nothing if not a force to be reckoned with. Gabriel wondered how his enemies managed to keep their composure when questioned by her. Surely any normal person would crack under the intensity with which the blogger sought information. He hoped Alya never interviewed him for anything more serious than a shallow fashion piece.

His son looked past Marinette and noticed him standing at the top of the stairs. “Marinette, your friends all believe you would do fantastic, and I know my father is eager to see what you'll create. Right, Father?”

The group turned as Adrien locked eyes with him. He cleared his throat. “I admit I am curious to see what delightful designs you'll introduce to me this time, Miss Marinette,” he said, and she flushed through the pallid sheen of her panic when she discovered he was standing there. “I am rather surprised you haven't yet registered.”

She must have caught some of the implied disappointment in his voice, because the flush vanished and the paleness took over.

“See, Marinette,” Adrien said, “Father agrees with me. You should register.”

“Okay,” she finally relented. “I'll register once I get home.”

“Why wait?” Adrien said. “I have a computer in my room.”

Alya grabbed her hand and practically dragged her up the stairs after Adrien. Nino followed silently, hoping to avoid unwanted attention from Gabriel. The elder designer, for his part, merely pivoted around on his heels and returned to his office, where he spent the rest of the afternoon in peace and quiet.

When the day finally arrived, Gabriel was a bit surprised to realize he had butterflies in his stomach. The nervous excitement of possibly finding out more about Ladybug's identity (and maybe even grabbing her Miraculous right then and there!) kept the fashion designer up into the wee hours of the morning as he tossed and turned and visions of Miraculouses danced in his head.

He wasn't the only one jittery with eagerness, either. Adrien couldn't keep still in the car, bouncing his leg and shifting his weight every minute or so. Gabriel did his best to ignore him while he worked on his tablet to take his mind off of the anticipation of the day.

This might be it.

This could be it.

He would come out of this encounter the victor, for once.

When at last they arrived at the convention hall, Adrien almost bolted to the judging room where several of the entrants were already setting up their assigned stations. The blond model peered around the room, standing on his tiptoes as he swiveled his head around.

“Looking for Marinette?” Gabriel asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips at his son's obvious infatuation.

“And Ladybug,” Adrien added absently.

The smile slid away. Why couldn't his son just focus upon Marinette? She was everything he approved of – and everything Ladybug wasn't (mainly, his archenemy). Why did his son continue to pine over the superhero?

His eyes drifted around the room, catching sight of a teenage boy with his father.

“Dad, come over here! They have Chat Noir action figures!”

“You mean dolls?” his father teased, a big smile upon his face.

“Daaaaaad, no way! These are collectibles!” The teen crossed his arms and pouted. “All the kids at school collect the heroes.”

“Are you certain you don't want to go with your friends? You would enjoy the festival a lot more if you didn't have to hang around your stuffy old father.”

“I'm meeting up with a few of them tonight and tomorrow, Dad. Today is just for us, like we always do.” The boy turned and leveled a devious smile at the elder man. “Someone has to keep you out of trouble, or I might discover you stumbling into Jagged Stone's trailer thinking it was the bathroom again.”

The father belted out a laugh. “You certainly aren't going to let me forget that one, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

“If you keep this from your mother, I'll buy you one of those Licky Charms you're so fond of.”

The boy's eyes lit up. “Deal!”

“Come on, let's see how many more ways I can embarrass my son. Maybe I'll trip in front of Ladybug and ask her if she would sign my hat.” He pointed to the black cap upon his head. “With black marker.”

“Daaaad.” Despite the groaning, the teenager's lips twitched into a smile.

Gabriel didn't realize he was staring until the two got out of sight, both of them still exchanging friendly banter back and forth until their voices faded away. He blinked at the sharp pain of longing in his chest. He should be here with Emilie, both of them enjoying what the convention could offer while Adrien darted ahead in excitement.

He hated being alone.

Pushing down his annoyance (and knowing he would have to do that several more times today), Gabriel settled a hand upon Adrien's shoulder and guided him through the room, eager to escape the crowd of people slowly building around him. His son glanced at every station they passed, ignoring each the moment he realized none belonged to his dark-haired friend.

“H-hi, Adrien.”

The breathless greeting caught their attention as both Adrien and Gabriel turned to the voice.

“Marinette!” Adrien beamed at her.

She smiled at his exuberance, her cheeks darkening slightly. She draped a black garment bag over her shoulder, hooked by one finger. “Good morning, Mr. Agreste,” she said.

He offered a thin smile. “Good morning, Miss Marinette. How are you?”

“Worried,” she confessed.

“What did you make?” Adrien asked, pointing at her bag.

“You'll see,” she replied. “It wouldn't be fair to show you early.”

“I'm sure it's amazing,” Adrien said, and Marinette flushed. “Oh! Why don't I stay with you during the judging?”

Her eyes widened. “I-I don't know...”

“Father won't want me wandering around on my own. He'll just be talking about fashion with Ladybug most of the time anyway.”

As much as Gabriel wanted the smallest amount of time alone with his archenemy, he had to admit that his desire to see Adrien forget about Ladybug entirely outweighed his disdain for his nemesis. Plus, he really shouldn't probably have his son around as he attempted to discern the heroine's identity. He took it as a very good sign that Adrien elected to remain with his friend instead of the object of his hero worship.

“I have no objections to you spending the time with Miss Marinette, Adrien, provided she is okay with that.” He didn't see why she wouldn't be okay with the situation, but if she was nervous about the contest then she might prefer to be by herself.

His son beamed at his friend and planted both hands upon her shoulders. “What do you say, Marinette?”

That did her in. The red deepened on her cheeks as she mumbled out a dazed reply. “S-sure, Adrien.”

“Perfect!” The hands dropped. “Well, Father, we'll let you get to the judging room and settle in. See you in a little while.”

“I look forward to appraising your creation, Miss Marinette,” Gabriel said. They exchanged goodbyes and the elder designer made his way over to the private room assigned to him and Ladybug to relax in before facing the contestants.

The room was empty save for a folding table, a few hard, plastic chairs, and a mini-fridge. Gabriel pulled it open and discovered several bottles of water, juice, and soda inside. A bowl of sealed snacks and fruit was in the middle of the table. He grimaced at the hard chairs. His back would be screaming in protest by the time they even started the judging.

A few minutes after he assessed the room, the door opened and a young man that appeared to be in his early or mid twenties entered, with a convention staff badge looped around his neck.

“Mr. Agreste, I've come to see if you needed anything.”

With a wave at the chairs, he nodded. “Some more comfortable seating arrangements would be nice. If Ladybug and I are to remain here for hours, these plastic monstrosities won't do at all.”

The young man pulled out a tiny pad and jotted something in it. “Yes, sir. I'll get on that right away. Is there anything else?”

“Not at the moment.”

The man departed, returning several minutes later wheeling two leather conference room chairs in. “Are these acceptable, Mr. Agreste?” he asked.

“Yes, they are adequate, thank you.”

The man nodded and left once more. Gabriel pulled out a bottle of water and settled in one of the chairs around the table. He immersed himself in his designs on his tablet for the next hour until the door opened once more and Ladybug peeked her head in.

“Hello,” she greeted, shy and timid.

He stood to meet her. “Good morning, Ladybug,” he said, plastering a fake smile upon his face. His gaze flickered to her earrings on instinct. “How are you today?”

“I'm well, Mr. Agreste. Thank you again for inviting me to co-judge with you. It's quite an honor.” She sat down in the empty chair beside him.

“The honor is all mine, Ladybug,” he replied smoothly. “All of these contests to assist with and you chose mine.”

She smiled and blushed. “Well, you're my favorite fashion designer. I couldn't resist. I suppose it's a bit selfish of me to indulge my guilty pleasure by using my superhero form.”

“Nonsense. There's nothing selfish about that. I would have just judged by myself had you declined.”

She didn't really have a response to that, and fiddled a bit with her hands.

He didn't want the conversation to die out, so he set his tablet aside. “So you're interested in fashion?”

She nodded and straightened in her chair. “Oh yes! I enjoy designing and creating my own outfits.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to question them further when a knock sounded on the door. He stood to answer it and discovered Adrien on the other side. “Adrien?”

Adrien peeked around him, spotting Ladybug sitting in the chair. “Oh, hello, Ladybug. Sorry to bother you, Father, but I was wondering if you've seen Marinette.”

“No, I haven't,” Gabriel admitted. “I've been in this room since I last saw you. Did something happen?”

Adrien continued to stare at Ladybug even as he answered Gabriel. “No, nothing important, I suppose. She left to go to the bathroom and hasn't returned yet. I didn't know if something had happened to her. I was starting to get worried.”

“Miss Marinette has not been here. If she's feeling unwell, she may have gone to the infirmary,” Gabriel suggested, recalling the last time he stepped foot in a convention and his son's own visitation to first aid.

“Yeah, maybe,” Adrien agreed. He finally tore his gaze away from Ladybug and smiled at his father. “Well, I'll get back to the station now. I hope Marinette turns up soon. I heard rumors they were going to start judging now that Ladybug has arrived and I hope she doesn't miss out on it.” He cast one last look at Ladybug before pulling the door shut behind him.

Gabriel refrained from breathing a huge sigh of relief that his son didn't insist on staying there with Ladybug. He turned back around, only to discover the hero rising from her chair.

“There's something I forgot to do,” she said. “I'll be right back. I'm sorry, Mr. Agreste. I won't be long.”

She scooted past him and pulled open the door, nearly barreling into the staff worker from earlier.

“Ah! I'm so terribly sorry, Ladybug,” the man exclaimed.

“Uhm, I just need to get by,” the heroine said, pointing past him to the convention hall.

The man cringed. “Sorry, but the organizers have asked that you two remain here until the official judging as to not be influenced by what you might see ahead of time.”

Ladybug frowned. “It will just take a moment.”

“I'm sorry, those are the rules.”

She harrumphed and turned around, pushing the door shut and sliding back down into her chair again.

Though Gabriel really didn't care about Ladybug, he knew that a silent Ladybug was a secretive Ladybug, and that just won't do while he had the perfect opportunity to glean clues from their interaction.

“I'm really looking forward to judging this contest with you,” he said after several minutes of mentally pep-talking himself into saying those damning words.

She smiled at him. “Me too, Mr. Agreste.” She slumped back down in her chair, silent once again.

“Is something bothering you?” he inquired, noting her distant stare and forlorn expression.

“No!”

He eyed her over the rims of his glasses.

She wilted under his stern expression.

“Well, yes. Kind of.”

“Kind of?” he repeated.

“I don't want you to take this the wrong way,” she began. “I'm really really honored to be judging with you.”

“Except....?” he prodded.

She traced a doodle on the tabletop with her finger. “Except, I kind of wanted you to judge my own entry. I get that this is a really awesome opportunity, and I really don't want you to think that I'm ungrateful or anything. I'm really looking forward to hearing your thoughts and suggestions on all of the contest entries and learning from your critiques, but... I really wanted some personal critical advice from you. This is fun, yes, but your critiques would have been more helpful to me in the long run.”

Oh. Well he didn't know what to say exactly to that. It was very observant of her to recognize that even though she was spending time in his company for several hours, a few minutes of tailored critiques on her own work would be a better boon to her. That was a very smart conclusion.

“Why didn't you decline my invitation, then?” he asked.

She flushed. “Well, it's partly our duty to participate in some of the events,” she began. “And well, it's kind of hard to explain, but I got somewhat caught up in everything without realizing exactly what I was agreeing to. Once everything sank in, I had already accepted and it wouldn't have been fair to you to withdraw as a judge.”

A strong sense of duty. Maybe he could use that to his advantage. Once committed to something, her moral compass prevented her from straying from that decision.

Or perhaps he could appeal to some other desire of hers.

“If you want, I could critique your work privately afterward,” he offered. “You could bring your design by my home one day and I would be happy to give you the kind of feedback you would have received here.”

The opportunity to glimpse her designing style in the hopes of recognizing it in the future? Oh, most definitely.

She brightened and looked at him, hope shining in her eyes. “Oh wow, do you really mean that?”

“Of course,” he said, sending her his warmest smile. “I could even look at additional designs of yours, and not just the one you had planned for today.”

She mulled over this for a long time, biting her lip as she waged an internal debate. At last, she sighed and looked back up at him. “I'm quite honored, Mr. Agreste, really. But I'm going to have to decline. It's for safety reasons. My identity may be compromised that way.” Her bottom lip wavered. This must be one of the hardest decisions she's ever had to face. Perhaps a little encouragement would tilt the scales back into his favor?

“I wouldn't tell anyone,” he sought to reassure her.

“It's not that,” she said. “Suppose someone spotted me going to and from your home? And word got back to Hawkmoth? You've already been targeted by him before. He won't hesitate to use you to his advantage if he believes you may know something.” She blinked hard and he realized she was fighting tears. This really was killing her that she wasn't able to accept personal criticism from her idol. He squashed down the grudging admiration that began to manifest. It would not do to have him sympathize with his archenemy! He had to get her Miraculous!

He was about to open his mouth and attempt to persuade her to change her mind, when she added, “Or he might decide to go after Adrien to get to you.”

A sudden chill went down his spine at the mention of Adrien in any danger. It was silly, he knew, because he was Hawkmoth! But he recalled how often Adrien seemed to just materialize into dangerous situations, despite his best efforts to keep him safe. His son ended up a wild card in several of his akuma plans that he had not accounted for.

Ladybug took his silence to mean he agreed with her. Which he reluctantly did, despite every fiber of his body protesting to push to encourage her to reverse her decision.

Time to change the topic. Maybe he could get a chance to examine those Miraculous earrings again. If he got close enough, he might be able to...

It would just take one swift strike...

Even if he were to brush it off as an accident and hand the earrings back to her, he would have unequivocal proof of Ladybug's identity in his hands.

“Have you ever considered giving up on being Ladybug?” he asked. “If it's interfering with how you want to truly live your life?”

She flushed deeper than he would have expected from a rhetorical question. Hmm, that was interesting. Had she considered just surrendering at times? She fiddled with her hands for a moment before answering. “No one else knows this, not even Chat. But,” she took a deep breath, “yes, at one point I considered giving up.”

“What changed your mind?” This was certainly an interesting development. He wondered if he could delve deeper into the enigma of the heroine in front of him. What other glimpses into her identity might she slip in while they were talking?

“My friends were in danger. I couldn't stand by and do nothing. I realized right then and there that it might be a burden and I might think I'm not worthy enough at times, but I was chosen and it's my responsibility to shoulder it.”

Ugh, more altruistic nobility from her. He should have known. “Do you ever think you might surrender your Miraculous one day in the future?”

She shrugged. “Maybe one day, when Hawkmoth isn't terrorizing the city anymore.”

He refrained from snapping a defensive retort back to her and instead took the opportunity to shift the focus upon his alter-ego. “What do you think he wants the Miraculous for?” If Ladybug was getting close to figuring out his identity, he might need to deflect attention from himself again like he had earlier.

She stood up and went over to the refrigerator, where she pulled out a bottle of water, uncapping it and taking a sip before returning to her seat. “Chat and I overheard an akuma talking to him once. He mentioned a wish of some kind.”

“A wish?”

She nodded. “It would appear Hawkmoth wants to use our Miraculouses for a wish.”

“What would that be?”

“We don't know. But regardless, that would never work.” She set the water bottle down on the table and favored him with what she probably assumed was a reassuring smile. It failed, as he was astonished by the conviction in her seemingly offhand remark.

“Why not?”

Ladybug bit her lip for a moment, contemplating her words before opening her mouth and explaining. “Something that powerful requires the very fabric of the universe to shift – to wrinkle and crumple and shudder. If such a thing were to happen, everyone in the world would feel the effects. And we would be at ground zero. We wouldn't stand a chance against the rippling effects.”

“What if the wish was spoken to ensure such a thing didn't take place?”

She tilted her head. “You can try to cover a can of soda to keep the pressure from leaking out. But the pressure will still build and build and build. And eventually... a pinprick of weakness will be discovered. And the resulting explosion leaves everything covered in shards of aluminum and sticky soda. I don't think Hawkmoth – no matter how clever he thinks he is – can account for every possibility of magical entrapment.”

“What if it's not a big wish?”

“It has to be. Whatever he's doing has to be big enough to risk everything. But either way, he's just using that as an excuse. He refuses to face reality. To change his own life. To adapt. He clings to an archaic notion that a simple wish will right everything and he doesn't realize what he might have already lost while going down that path.”

It took the most self-restraint he's ever had not to snap and lunge and protest and transform right then and there and attack her for her earrings. He slowed his breathing and clenched his hands. Ladybug continued, oblivious to his inner rage.

“Take you, for instance,” she said, and that diverted the river of anger enough for him to get a better handle upon his emotions.

“What?”

She smiled, still blissfully oblivious at the hornet's nest she continued to poke. “Well, I know Adrien has mentioned his mother a few times. She must have been someone dear to both of you.”

How dare she bring up the memory of his beloved! Her name didn't deserve to be spoken from those devil-lips of Ladybug!

“But you two have forged a really remarkable bond from it,” his nemesis continued, and in doing so shocked him into utter silence. “I've seen you and Adrien at these events. You're both so happy together. You've really created something amazing with your son that he'll cherish his entire life. He may grow more distant from you in the future, but I know for a fact he'll always look upon these times with fondness. It's something you both share together. Father-son time.”

She propped up her face with her fist, leaning on the table. “I wonder if you two would have the same kind of bond if these kinds of events never happened,” she mused absently. “Did you two share any hobbies before attending these conventions?”

Gabriel swallowed hard. “No,” he whispered at last, his voice hoarse as he admitted to the lack of a relationship with his son.

“Nothing at all? Nothing that was just between you and him that would make him gleefully declare 'that was our time together, just me and my father'?”

He reflected upon the different activities that Adrien did – piano and fencing – while he locked himself away in his office designing and managing his business. He remembered many things he shared exclusively with his wife, and several more of Adrien with the two of them, but he couldn't think of a single instance that he could claim was reserved just for him and his son.

Until now.

He didn't like the guilt that welled up inside him. He didn't like his archenemy of all people thrusting his weaknesses in his face. And he especially didn't like the way she wheedled him into self-reflection. He hated her. He hated Chat Noir. He hated the entity that robbed him of his wife for the last two years.

But the longer he sat and turned over Ladybug's gentle reflections in his mind, the longer he realized he misdirected his hatred. He didn't really hate her, or Chat Noir, or even his wife for leaving him all alone.

He hated himself.

He hated what he had become. What he had lost. What he had missed.

He stood abruptly, annoyed with the entire convention as guilt and frustration and unfocused anger sloshed inside him, combining into a very nauseating mixture.

He was Hawkmoth! And Ladybug would curse the very day she ever showed him sympathy!

“I guess you're lucky, then,” Ladybug said, her voice whisper soft, “that you have something now.”

His hands shook as her words sank in. He had to admit over the last several months, he and Adrien had certainly become closer. Despite the teasing and sly ribbing, he enjoyed spending these days with his son as the boy darted around with the eagerness of a puppy and the energy of a hummingbird. Would a similar relationship have developed between the two of them if Hawkmoth had never entered the scene? If Ladybug and Chat Noir never answered the heroic call? If none of them ever existed, what would his relationship be like with Adrien today?

He couldn't answer that.

He thought back to the father and son he had seen earlier that day. The father seemed so pleased to be going with his teenage son, and the son didn't seem to mind tagging along with his father. They shared several inside jokes and laughs between them.

He and Adrien shared the same.

He gave himself a mental shake. Stop this, Gabriel! He was getting too distracted from his goal. He needed those Miraculouses. And no amount of sweet talking or inner reflections would change that!

Still, he couldn't help but lapse into silence for the remainder of their time together, ruminating upon Ladybug's words. Much to his relief, it wasn't much longer before the door opened and the young man entered to announce they were ready to begin judging. Ladybug shot to her feet instantly and was almost out the door before Gabriel could even rise from his own chair.

“I have to use the restroom,” she called over her shoulder. “Start the judging without me, I'll be right back.”

“No, that's...” he started to say, but she had vanished from sight before he could stop her. He looked at the young man. “It's not really fair for the contestants to only have one judge, right?”

“Uhm,” the man struggled to find something to say against him.

Gabriel sighed. “Don't bother answering. Please inform everyone that Ladybug had to deal with a situation that arose unexpectedly and as soon as she returns we'll be able to begin the contest judging.”

“Certainly, Mr. Agreste.”

And as the door closed, Gabriel was once again left with his own consuming thoughts.

Chapter Text

Ladybug sprinted down the hallway, weaving in and out of conference goers, some of whom shouted "is there an akuma?" after her.

"No!" she hollered over her shoulder, barely breaking stride. She just had to make it to the bathroom where she could de-transform and hurry back in time to get judged by Mr. Agreste (and hopefully convince him she didn't really need Ladybug's input) before darting away again to transform back into Ladybug to judge the rest of the applicants. Whew! She could do this! She was Ladybug!

How did she get into this mess in the first place again? Oh, right. Adrien. She really needed to get a grip on her emotions around him. Ugh. Time to worry about him later.

She ducked around a corner and almost crashed into someone. With a yelp of surprise and a stumbling feat of acrobatics, she pushed against the wall and spun around the person.

"A-Adrien!" she shrieked. The object of her thoughts stood right in front of her, a serious frown upon his perfectly kissable lips. Focus! She chided herself. So much for thinking about him later.

"Hello, Ladybug," he greeted with a polite nod, stiffer and more formal than the smile he usually beamed at her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

He pointed to the door to the bathroom. "Waiting for Marinette," he explained. "She's been gone an awfully long time and the judging is about to begin for the fashion contest."

Her eyes followed his hand motion. "I'll go see if she's okay," she said, attempting to sidestep him.

"Don't bother," Adrien said, folding his arms across his chest. "I've already asked several people. She's not in there."

"Well, maybe they didn't know what she looked like," Ladybug said.

"There's no one even in there right now," he replied.

"So then why are you waiting out here?" she asked. "You must have missed her. Or she could be using a different bathroom."

Adrien scowled at her – a perfect mirror of his father. "This is the nearest bathroom to the judging hall. The next closest one is across the building, easily a ten minute trip. It makes no sense for her to have gone all the way over there."

She didn't know what to say to that. Maybe suggest this one had been closed for cleaning? She opened her mouth to state that when he continued talking.

"Do you remember signing an autograph for Marinette at the last convention?" he asked instead of remaining on the topic of bathrooms.

She pushed down a sigh that threatened to escape. "Yes, of course," she answered.

He cocked one eyebrow at her, and Ladybug swore if he adopted anymore mannerisms from his father, she would track down a red-and-cream striped ascot and strangle him with it. "You do?"

With hands planted firmly on her hips and an annoyed scowl upon her own lips, she glared at him. "Yes."

"Because I talked to Chat Noir," Adrien began, studying her expression very carefully as he spoke, "and he doesn't remember Marinette at all in that autograph line."

Ooh, she was going to strangle that mangy cat with his own belt the next time she saw him! Right after she got through with the handsome blond in front of her. "Chat Noir must not have a good memory, then," she said.

For some reason, that seemed to irritate him further. "You're so eager to maintain this lie that you would throw your partner under the bus like that?" he accused. The air between them vibrated with tension.

"Why is this so important to you?" she asked, striking at what she believed to be the heart of the matter.

His face flashed with uncertainty, guilt, and anguish. He averted his gaze, all at once meek and contrite. "Have you ever wanted something so badly that you think there's no possible way it could happen, but then something happens that makes you think 'maybe'? But then you're not 100% sure so you agonize over it for days and weeks and just when you think you've got a handle on it something else happens and throws everything off again?"

She gulped, uncertain as to what to say.

He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, mussing it up. "I-"

They both heard someone approaching just then. Adrien's eyes narrowed. Without a word, he reached out and snatched her wrist with one hand. His other twisted open the knob to a door beside them. He stepped into the dark room, yanked Ladybug in with him, and shut the door all in a matter of seconds. She blinked for a moment, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

A soft blue glow illuminated the cramped space. Adrien held up his phone, the glow from the screen casting long shadows across his face. He looked like something out of a horror movie.

"What...?" She spun around. Tall broom handles stuck out from corners and multiple shelves packed with supplies rested an arms length away. She reached out and snagged one of the items. Toilet paper. A few buckets were stacked on top of each other on the floor. "Are we in a janitorial closet?" she asked. She set the roll back on the shelf.

He glanced around and nodded. "Appears so. Sorry," he apologized, sounding genuinely contrite. "I had to finish talking to you and I couldn't do it in front of strangers."

"You can talk to me, Adrien," she said. Though she still was extremely annoyed with the boy in front of her, he obviously had something important to say to cause him this much distress.

He turned and angled his phone against the rolls of paper on the shelf, deliberately positioning it so it would remain upright, and doing so with such precision that she could tell he was stalling. With a deep breath, he turned back to her. "It's eating me up," he continued at last. "Why did Marinette lie to me about her autograph? Why wouldn't she show it to me? Nothing adds up! Nothing makes sense!" His words rushed out in an angry puff of air. "And then," he looked up into her eyes, freezing her with the intensity in them, "and then, I had the craziest idea." His words came out in a near breathless tone now, low and hushed and a complete change from his passionate speech from earlier.

"What was that?" she answered, her voice equally as hushed and whispered.

"There was one other autograph given that day," he breathed out, and her blood froze to ice. "One other autograph that was signed by my father and given to you, Ladybug." He reached out and cupped her hands in his, never once taking his eyes from hers. "And once I realized that, it was as if a lightning bolt struck me. Suddenly, everything made sense. I couldn't believe my luck!"

She tried to retract her hand but he held tight.

"Please," he begged, squeezing her fingers. "Please let me finish."

She relented and relaxed her grip.

"It's why I set this whole thing up," he explained. "I got Father to sponsor a fashion show knowing that you – Marinette – wouldn't be able to resist entering. And I got you – Ladybug – to agree to co-judge with Father because I know that you idolize him. I had to prove my theory correct. I know what you said before, about secret identities must remain secret, but the pieces all fit so perfectly I can't just ignore it anymore."

Ladybug didn't say anything for a long moment. She just stared into Adrien's eyes, her fingers still encased in his own hands. Any other time her heart would be flipping at the realization she stood nose-to-nose with Adrien in a cramped dark closet while he held her hands, but this time her heart thumped for a different reason.

"Wha-" She paused, licked her lips, and tried again. "What did you mean when you said you got me to agree to judge with your father?"

With those words, he dropped her hand from his and stepped back as far as the tiny closet would allow. "Ah, that. That's the other reason I'm going insane right now," he said, the fire dimming from his eyes as he stepped out of the direct glow of the phone. "You see, I'm not just an ordinary boy with a crush on his super talented schoolmate, or a model with his own celebrity crush on an amazing superhero." With a crooked grin that was more self-deprecating than actually jovial, he held up his hand. His silver ring faced her. "I'm actually said superhero's stupid annoying partner. Plagg, claws out."

It was as if an invisible force sucker-punched her in the gut as the green light washed over Adrien, transforming him into Chat Noir. She stepped back on instinct, forgetting she was in a tiny closet.

She tripped over a bucket.

Arms flailing around like a windmill, she stumbled backward, knocking into the stack of broomsticks. They smashed to the ground in a cacophony of clatters. "No!" she cried out, attempting to grab some with her hands and feet before they all landed on the floor.

Chat Noir lunged forward to snatch a couple. An errant foot caught him square in his chest. With an "oof!" of surprise, he staggered into the shelf, launching rolls of toilet paper and paper towels high into the air. He ducked and covered his head on instinct as they thumped onto him and cascaded onto the ground. She shrieked and sprang forward, slipped on one, and slammed face first into Chat's chest.

The door opened.

Someone peeked in. "Ladybug? Chat Noir?" The voice of a confused sounding convention worker cut through the deafening silence in the aftermath. "Uhm, what's going on? Is there an akuma?"

Ladybug pushed herself off of Chat's chest, her face burning red with embarrassment (and with a peek at Chat, was just a tiny bit pleased to see his equally chagrined face). She didn't know what she would have done if he had a flirtatious smarmy grin instead. She brushed herself off with as much dignity as she could muster.

"Chat and I needed to coordinate something for the convention," she said. "This was the safest place to convene without interference from civilians." Ugh, that sounded weak even to her. And she was used to giving flimsy excuses.

Fortunately, being a superhero had its own advantages.

"Oh, of course," the man said, without any hint of sarcasm. "Sorry to have interrupted. You can go back to uh... whatever it is that you were doing."

"Superhero business," Chat clarified.

"Uhm, right." His gaze slid to the remains of the cleaning supplies scattered around them. "Superhero business." Now, the man looked a bit more disbelieving as they exited the closet. She refrained from looking behind her at the mess. She winced. How would this look if they were anyone else?

Scratch that. This didn't look good no matter who they were. Rumors would be flying by morning about whatever supposed romantic tryst occurred between them in that dark closet. And did it have to be a bathroom closet on top of it?

She marched away with her head held high. It didn't take long for Chat to catch up to her.

"Can we continue our talk?" he asked in a low voice. "I mean if you want to. I can understand if you don't," he said. "But uh, well I just wasn't expecting you to Cataclysm that closet."

She turned and leveled a stern glare at him. He shrunk back and she relaxed her gaze. "Yeah," she said in soft voice. "I'm trying to find another room."

"We could do the closet thing again," Chat suggested with a grin and a waggle of his eyebrows. He waved his phone at her. He must have grabbed it as they were exiting. She had completely forgotten about it. That wouldn't have been good if someone discovered Adrien Agreste's phone in a room that previously contained Ladybug and Chat Noir.

The look she sent him melted the smile off his face. His cat ears drooped with his expression.

She turned back around and pointed in the distance. "There's a room over there that's used as an extra prep room for the fashion contest," she said. "It should be empty by now since Mr. Agreste is supposed to start the judging soon. Everyone will probably be gathered in the room to watch his event."

They hurried over in silence, Chat not saying a word for once. The door was unlocked, and Ladybug peeked inside to clear it before giving the okay. Chat immediately dropped his transformation the moment she closed the door. His kwami flew out, silent as he stared at Ladybug for a long moment before something passed across his face. He nodded to her and zipped inside Adrien's shirt jacket without a word. Despite his silence, she still got the distinct impression the kwami had given her his approval. But approval for what?

"Yeah," Adrien said, quiet and dejected as she mulled over the tiny cat kwami's actions, "that's about the reaction I expected."

"Me tripping over a bucket?" Ladybug asked, folding her arms in offense. "I know I'm clumsy, but that's pretty rude."

Adrien looked up at her, startled. "What? No!" he exclaimed. He waved his hands at her. "This!" he said. "You hating me. I knew it was a bad idea, but it was tearing me up inside. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think."

At this, his kwami poked his head out of the shirt. "I can personally vouch for that last one," he said.

"Plagg!" Adrien growled, swiping at the black sprite.

The kwami ducked back into the shirt. But it had the intended effect. Ladybug giggled. Adrien froze at the sound. Slowly, he turned his head toward her.

"Adrien, I don't hate you," she said. "I understand now why you were so desperate to see my autograph. Honestly, if I had caught you in a lie like that, I would have been equally as curious. It just figures I pick the one person in all of Paris to lie to who ends up being the one person in all of Paris that can see through that lie."

He swallowed hard. "So... so you are Marinette?"

Smiling, she nodded and dropped her transformation with a few muttered words.

"Thank goodness," he murmured. He sagged with relief. "I was going insane."

She stepped forward and reached out with one hand. Tikki hovered nearby, observing in silence. Plagg drifted out from Adrien's shirt and floated over to Tikki's side. Both remained quiet – uncharacteristically so for Tikki – as they witnessed the two teens interact for the first time without any secrets barring the way.

Adrien stretched out his hand to meet hers in midair. Her breathing hitched as his fingers closed around hers. He stepped forward to close the gap between them.

"I always go insane around you," Marinette confessed, and a snort sounded from off to her side as Tikki clearly agreed.

A smile brighter than the sun blossomed upon his face, and Marinette would be content to live her whole life in darkness if his smile was the only sunshine she ever saw again. A sensation of completeness blanketed over her, wrapping her tight into comfort, security, and wholeness. This was her partner. This was her friend.

She stiffened. Right. Friend.

Adrien sensed her hesitation. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm your friend," she said.

He nodded. "Yes, you are."

She drew away. "But only your friend."

He pulled her back. "Do you want something more?"

She furrowed her brows and blinked at him.

"I only ask because you seem so hesitant around me," Adrien asked. "I don't want to press you into something you're uncomfortable with."

Another snort from beside her, and she really had to refrain from glaring daggers at her kwami. Instead, she offered the boy in front of her the sweetest smile she could muster. It probably came out wobbly and unsure – just like her fears at his reaction. "I would love something more," she told him. Her hands tightened in his. She willed her palms to remain dry. "But, I don't really know right now."

"What?"

Marinette lifted her hands, their fingers still intertwined. "This," she said. "Us. It's all so new to me. You've obviously planned this out for so long." She looked around at the empty room. "Even set this whole thing up. But me? I got sprung with the news that my amazing partner is the same guy I've been crushing on since school began."

Adrien blinked really hard at that. "So, you don't want to...?" He trailed off with a gulp, leaving the question open-ended.

She squeezed his hands. "I just need a little more than sixty seconds to process this, okay?"

He nodded, looking as if the world collapsed around him. He averted his gaze from hers.

"Hey," she gently coaxed him to meet her eyes again. "That's not a 'no'."

She was rewarded with a tenuous smile – fragile, but full of hope.

They stood there smiling at each other for a long time before Plagg cleared his throat. "Not to interrupt, but I believe Ladybug has a prior engagement elsewhere," he said.

Marinette's eyes immediately widened. "Omigosh! The fashion show! Oh no, your father is probably so furious I've taken so long!" She pulled away from Adrien. "What am I going to tell him about why Marinette isn't there?"

Adrien set both hands upon her shoulders, and some of her worries died away under his touch. "Let me worry about my father," he assured her. "I do have this planned out." He winked. "Transform and head back to judge. I'll take care of everything else."

She could only nod in reply. "Okay," she said as she turned to her kwami, who beamed with pride, "Tikki, spots on!"

Gabriel sat at the table, working on his color schemes for his new lineup. With a sigh of contentment, he set his stylus aside, having just put the final touches on the last piece. He stretched, listening to the pops of his joints as he worked out the kinks from sitting too long.

"Ladybug has been gone an extremely long time," he mused aloud, checking the time on his tablet.

His kwami poked his head out from inside his jacket. "Maybe something happened," he suggested.

"Like what?" Gabriel countered with a grumble, running a hand through his hair in frustration and ruffling the strands in the process. "I haven't had any opportunity to release an akuma today."

"Maybe it's not an akuma then," Nooroo said.

Gabriel tapped on his lip as he mulled over his options. "Do you think you could go check things out?" he asked.

"What?"

"You know, peek out and see what's going on out there. I can't step foot outside without that annoying excuse for a guard stopping me. But you could slip right past him."

Nooroo flew out of the jacket entirely and floated in front of his face. The kwami glanced over at the door. "I don't think that's a good idea. What if someone sees me flying back in here? They'll know your secret then."

"Not if you fly high enough," Gabriel said. "No one will be looking upwards."

"I don't know," Nooroo fretted, "it still sounds pretty dangerous."

Any other time, Gabriel knew the kwami would be jumping at the chance for a few moments of freedom. He suspected the timid sprite to be toying with him. He could order Nooroo to investigate, but perhaps there was another way to willingly convince the kwami to cooperate.

"I'll buy you some gourmet popcorn," Gabriel offered.

Nooroo stilled in mid-air. He remained aloft, but no longer bobbed to and fro with the gentle wave-like manner in which he normally drifted. "What?" His large luminous eyes bored into Gabriel.

The designer sighed. "Kettle corn, perhaps? Maybe some of that caramel covered popcorn?"

Nooroo's eyes widened further – something Gabriel didn't think possible. He pressed his advantage.

"There are many different kinds of popcorn available," he continued, studying the kwami intensely for any hint of weakness. He hoped to settle upon the one item he could use as perfect leverage to bribe the kwami. "I've looked into it," he said. "There are so many different flavors like chocolate and even flavored salts to sprinkle on top."

Nooroo gulped. Gabriel knew he almost had him. "S-salts?"

Gabriel nodded. "Garlic, cinnamon, jalapeño, chili" he rattled off. "They even sell cheese-flavored popcorn. Wouldn't you like that?"

At this, the glazed look in his kwami's eyes vanished as Nooroo snorted. "That wouldn't last two days in your house," he declared.

He frowned at Nooroo's cryptic remark. "What do you mean by that?"

But before the kwami could answer, the door slammed open and Ladybug burst into the room. Nooroo instantly vanished back into his pocket as Ladybug bent over, planted her hands upon her knees and gulped in huge heaving lungfuls of air. Despite himself, a trickle of concern washed through him which he immediately and furiously stamped down. He raised one eyebrow.

"Are you okay?" he asked, outwardly displaying the proper levels of concern even as he waged his inner battle.

"Yeah," she gasped, standing up straight after a couple of more deep breaths. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Agreste. I heard rumors of an akuma and had to check it out. I met up with Chat Noir and it took us a while to make certain there was no danger."

Not that he didn't itch to release an akuma to dispel the boredom, but he had refrained from transforming in the tiny room. "Everything has been taken care of, I presume?" he said instead. "I didn't notice any magical purification."

She waved her hands in front of her face with a huge reassuring smile. "It ended up being a false alarm, so no cause for concern, thankfully," she said.

Of course there wasn't. Not that he could admit to exactly how he knew that. He rose from his seat. "Shall we begin the judging or do you need a moment to compose yourself?"

"Oh, I'm okay, Mr. Agreste," she answered with a warm smile. "Thank you for your consideration."

Ugh. Whatever helped to further his cover. He circled around the table as she stepped behind and assumed her seat. She blinked at him as he stood on the other side. She tilted her head in confusion. Ah, right.

"Apologies, Ladybug," he said. "But there's been a slight change in schedule due to the delays." A flush of embarrassment colored her cheeks at this. "We're running short on time to get this finished before the convention hall closes for the day, so instead of the contestants coming in here where we will judge them as originally planned, we'll be going to the different booths ourselves."

She jumped back up out of her seat. "Oh! Okay, then," she said. "I'm really terribly sorry about causing the delay."

With a wave of his hand, he brushed aside her concerns. "These things happen all the time in this industry," he explained, unperturbed by the schedule adjustments. "The key is to be able to adapt and overcome such limitations. That is crucial for a successful show. But I'm certain you must already know quite a lot about adapting and overcoming unexpected obstacles."

She giggled. "I suppose that is one thing I should thank Hawkmoth for," she confessed with a shy smile. "I've actually come to be able to adapt really well in my civilian life."

Fantastic. Not only did he have to suffer his nemesis defeating his akumas as her alter-ego, but now he was also responsible for his nemesis succeeding outside of her magical suit as well. The cordial smile threatened to slide from his lips, so he grit his teeth together to keep it plastered on for just a few seconds longer.

"Well then, it appears success follows wherever you tread." He motioned on ahead of him. "After you."

And with that, they entered into the foray of the convention hall, packed with hundreds (or so it felt like) hopefuls from young children to older university-aged students to grandmothers. But no matter who designed and created the clothes, every single one of them referenced Ladybug and Chat Noir. He held in a sigh. He wasn't expecting too much out of this event, but even a homage to Rena Rouge or Carapace would liven up the sea of reds and blacks with splashes of orange, yellow, and green. Chat's neon green did not count.

And though he knew it would never happen, he entertained the idea of stumbling across a Hawkmoth-themed entry. If that miraculous outfit entered into his awareness, it would take all of his self-restraint not to immediately declare them the winner.

Hawkmoth Wins!

He could just imagine the headline now, sensational and misleading. A prelude to when he finally did get those Miraculouses and Emilie walked beside him once again.

"-agree, Mr. Agreste?"

Ladybug's comment snapped him back to the present. He looked over to her, then back at the entry in front of him. A retro-chic Ladybug-style dress that, despite its irritating heroic inspiration, actually impressed him. But he didn't want to admit he hadn't been listening or risk repeating what Ladybug said.

"Wholeheartedly, Ladybug," he said. "I couldn't have said it better myself. And might I add that you have a stellar eye for these kinds of details."

Both hero and contestant beamed at him, so he must have said the right thing. Phew. He vowed to pay closer attention in the future.

As they wove their way through the different entries, Gabriel found himself looking forward to seeing what Marinette would offer. Each booth they passed only brought him closer to anticipation, and he struggled to keep his eagerness in check. So when they eventually arrived at her assigned station, he was surprised to find it empty – devoid of any outfit or designer. Adrien sat in a chair fiddling with his phone. He jumped up to his feet as they neared.

"Father! Ladybug!" he exclaimed. His cheeks darkening to a ruddy red as he stared at the superhero in front of him.

"Where's Marinette?" Gabriel asked, hoping to stave off any interaction that may arise between his son and archenemy. Adrien needed to be reminded of Marinette and not this annoyance beside him.

"Ah," Adrien turned his attention away from the hero and focused on his father, "she withdrew from the competition. She went to bring her outfit home. She was hoping to be back before you got here so she could tell you herself."

His jaw dropped open. "She withdrew?" he repeated, dumbfounded by the declaration. "Why?"

For some reason Adrien snuck another look at Ladybug before answering. "She didn't feel it was fair if she continued as a contestant, especially now that we're hopefully going to be dating."

His gasp of surprise drowned out the muffled squeak from Ladybug. "You're dating?" he exclaimed. He couldn't believe it. Was this for real? Did his son finally get over his blind infatuation for Ladybug and realize his love for that talented girl who was enamored with him? Mental high-five!

Eyes flitted back over to him, watching him with concern. "Is that okay, Father?"

"Yes!" he blurted out immediately, then coughed to cover his tracks. "I mean, that is perfectly acceptable to me. Marinette is a delightful young woman." He stamped down on every single urge to leap up into the air and jump around in excitement. Barely.

Adrien's face blossomed into a giant smile. "Thanks, Father!" His expression turned dreamy. "She certainly is amazing."

A noise beside him drew his attention. He had forgotten about Ladybug. He looked over to her, expecting to see a crestfallen mask of sadness, but instead saw blushing red cheeks and the tiniest of smiles upon her face. "Do you mean that?" she asked in a whisper.

His son stepped closer to her. "I do," he said in a low voice, his eyes capturing Ladybug with their intensity.

She squeaked and Gabriel hastened to place a hand of comfort upon her shoulder to guide her away. The last thing he needed was his son second-guessing his decision to date Marinette when faced with a blushing hero.

"We should be getting on with the competition," he said, sending a meaningful look at the remaining contestants in the room.

"Ah, of course, Mr. Agreste!" She smiled at Adrien one last time. "Good luck with your girlfriend," she said, before turning and heading away to the next booth. Gabriel spotted an enormous grin blossoming across his son's face as he left.

As they crossed over to the next area, Gabriel felt the need to say something to her. Despite her gracious acceptance of Adrien dating Marinette, he didn't want a jilted superhero to target either of them. Though she seemed happy for the couple, it might have been akin to her own mask to hide her true emotions.

"I'm sorry that Adrien didn't return your feelings," he said in a low voice, cognizant of the potential to be overheard. He didn't want any rabid fan backlash heaped upon Marinette for "stealing" Adrien away from a superhero.

She turned to him in surprise. "What?"

"I know you harbored some feelings for Adrien," he said.

"Wha- how?"

He couldn't help but chuckle at her astonishment. "You were fairly obvious about it when protecting me during the akuma Simon Says. That look of adoration was hard to mask."

She blushed bright red. "I was wondering how you knew I liked someone when you said something at that panel a few months back," she mumbled. Shaking her head, she stared up at him with a smile, then lowered her voice to a whisper so he had to lean in to catch her next words. "Actually, I've decided to give Chat Noir a chance," she admitted. "He's pretty amazing."

"That is delightful news," he declared with a warm, genuine smile. Of course he was smiling because the hero finally deflected her attention away from his son. That was all! It's not like he would ever be happy for his mortal enemy! Preposterous!

Said mortal enemy skipped on ahead of him over to the next outfit, and the two of them spent the remainder of the day in varying degrees of giddiness (he would later growl to Nooroo that he was not "giddy", but merely enthusiastic!) as they judged and critiqued every single entry remaining. And after all of the judging concluded and the winner announced, Ladybug turned to him as the afternoon's sunlight began to dim into evening.

"Thank you again so very much for allowing me this wonderful opportunity to judge with you, Mr. Agreste," she said. "I learned quite a lot just from that experience alone."

"You're welcome," he answered, "but it should be me thanking you for deeming my contest worthy enough to be selected for judging by you." A few more well-worded praises and gratefulness should reaffirm his cover story. If only he could reach out and grab those earrings. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "As I said before, my offer of a private critique still stands, should you change your mind."

She beamed at him and for a split second his brain froze, because why did that expression seem so familiar? Before he could connect the dots, she turned away. The connection fizzled and the moment passed, leaving nothing but a lingering imprint in his mind – like the aftereffect of a lightning bolt striking from the sky.

"I really should get going," she said. "I think Chat Noir was judging two or three contests today. Maybe I'll check in on him." She threw him a jaunty little salute as she turned away. "Thank you again, Mr. Agreste."

And with that, she vanished into the crowd.

As the contestants gathered their things around him and filed slowly out of the room, Gabriel silently slipped away, hoping to find Adrien (and maybe his new girlfriend). Perhaps some of Ladybug's luck spilled over onto him, because not minutes after he began his search, he spotted the two standing off in one corner together.

Holding hands.

He so desperately wanted to scream and jump and cheer to someone, but Nathalie was busy coordinating with the winner for their job shadow day. Which left the only other thing that never left his side.

"Nooroo!" he hissed. "They're together! At last!" He cracked open his jacket to give his kwami a peek.

The lavender head poked out. "So many ships are sailing today," he murmured in his own riddle-like manner of speaking, but Gabriel also noticed a giant smile as he turned to face him. "They look really happy."

"That they do, Nooroo," he agreed, and his heart constricted as his thoughts traveled to his wife. Nooroo returned back into his pocket, but he felt the sprite shift against him. The action comforted him in the smallest manner. He patted his jacket in acknowledgment. "Thank you, little Nooroo," he murmured. Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, he approached the new couple.

"Adrien tells me you two have some good news?" he said when he got in range.

They both jumped apart at his arrival. "Mr. Agreste!" Marinette said. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you I was withdrawing from the contest," she said, wringing her hands together. "I thought that it might appear like it was giving me an unfair advantage."

"Because you're dating my son?"

She nodded, then cast a worried look over to Adrien. "Is that okay?" she asked.

"I am not averse to Adrien dating, especially when he has chosen someone like you, Miss Marinette." He refrained from pointing out that his standards pretty much consisted of anyone but Ladybug. Though, that wasn't 100% true, either. Marinette exceeded all of his expectations and he couldn't be happier for his son and his first fledgling relationship. He hoped they survived the test of time.

Her face relaxed as the tension melted, and he realized she had fretted and worried over his reaction. "I know Adrien was the one to tell you about my withdrawal," she continued, "and I apologize for not informing you myself. I waited around for a while but Adrien tells me you and Ladybug came by after I left. It was just my luck to have missed you both."

"It's okay, Miss Marinette. Ladybug said there was a possible akuma that she needed to check out, so that's why there was a delay." He thought upon what he had offered Ladybug. If the hero wouldn't accept his offer of a private critique, maybe he could offer the same to Marinette? She would appreciate the assessment to further her skills. "But if it's constructive criticism you're after, perhaps we can arrange a time in the future where I can judge your contest entry myself?"

Her eyes lit up. "Oh really? Do you mean it?" she gushed.

He nodded. "I don't believe Ladybug will be able to attend, but you'll have my critiques at least."

"That would be wonderful, Mr. Agreste!" Her whole body practically vibrated with excitement.

"I'll have Nathalie arrange something with you for the near future," he assured her. "In the meantime, I trust you and Adrien are okay spending the rest of the evening here?"

"If that's okay with you, Father," Adrien asked.

He nodded. "That is fine. Call your driver when you're ready to leave."

"I will," his son promised.

Gabriel looked around. "For now, these events have worn me out. I'm going to head back. Enjoy yourselves." Indeed, he was telling the truth, for a bone-weary exhaustion set in as he pivoted around and began the slow trek back through the convention hall at a languid pace. He didn't even have enough energy to summon an akuma. The only things on his mind were a nice hot drink and the comforting darkness of his room. As he meandered through the hallways, he passed by the father and son duo he had seen that morning. Had it only been a few hours ago?

The father laughed and clapped his son on the back. "Well at least you got to meet Chat Noir," he was saying to the younger boy. "I know you had your eye on meeting Ladybug, too, but there's always next convention."

"It's okay. You really wanted to see who won the 'co-anchor for a day' competition," the teen answered. He winked at his father. "I know you have a soft spot for Nadja Chamack's reports."

"Guilty as charged," his father admitted with another laugh, this one a bit more rueful. "Thanks for sacrificing your chance to meet your hero."

"It's not a sacrifice to spend time with you," the boy said with an eye-roll. "But if you're feeling especially guilty about it, maybe you can splurge and get me that Ladybug print I liked?"

"Next time."

"Deal!"

"Of course, that's depending upon your grades in school."

"Daaaaad, that's not the deal."

"I'm adding stipulations."

"Daaaaad!"

The two drifted away from Gabriel, still bickering over the finer details and bantering back and forth. The conversation flowed easily – jokes and familiarity flowing between easy enough. Gabriel wondered if he would ever have that level of ease with Adrien.

Maybe next time he could swallow his disdain for the heroes and spend the whole day just enjoying – thoroughly enjoying – the fair with his son. The thought brought a smile to his face as he anticipated his son's excited reactions to the events around him. With his mind ruminating on spending more time with Adrien and reflecting upon the growing bond between them, Gabriel discovered himself standing in his bedroom before he knew it.

It was too early for sleep, but maybe he could get a little more work done. He pulled up his tablet and began designing as fresh ideas flowed through him. For once, not on his villainous escapades, but rather a new theme for his fashion company: father and son bonding.

The End