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the view from the cheap seats
***
Something was different.
This was immediately apparent to everyone in Miss Bustier’s class on Monday morning.
Something had changed…but it was anyone’s guess what that something entailed.
Alya noticed it first—her journalistic instincts piquing with interest when Marinette arrived to school early that day. Not merely on time—which would have been surprising enough—but early. A good twenty minutes early.
“What are you doing here?” Alya asked as Marinette trotted up the stone steps. A handful of early birds were hovering around the entrance, waiting for their friends or trying to squeeze as many seconds of freedom out of the morning as possible before the bell rang. Alya didn’t mean to sound rude, but in her shock she forgot to modulate her tone. They’d been best friends for two years now and in all that time Alya couldn’t remember Marinette being early for anything. Certainly not school, despite the fact that Marinette lived almost directly across the street.
“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Marinette chirped as she breezed past the kids on the steps.
Which was not an answer to Alya’s question.
Technically Nino was the second person to notice that something was different, but don’t let Chloe hear you say that.
Nino always waited by the steps for Adrien to arrive, and he always played a bubble popping game on his phone as he waited. His favorite part of the game was the cartoonish sound effects, so he had his headphones on and was completely unaware of his surroundings. Normally this wasn’t an issue, since Adrien would pull him out of the bubble void with a friendly hand clapped to his shoulder. But not on that particular Monday morning. Nino suddenly realized that the other students were starting to file in for classes and he switched off his phone, looking around with a frown.
“Is Adrien late?” He asked no one in particular.
Chloe had been waiting next to Nino (not with him, next to him, that was a very important distinction) and she shook her head.
“His car dropped him off on the corner twelve minutes ago. Then he walked behind that perfume ad and hasn’t reappeared.”
“He didn’t go inside?”
“Nope. I would have seen it if he had.” She sniffed disapprovingly. “Unlike some people, I pay attention.”
“Then where’d he go? He’s not still behind the sign, is he?”
“I genuinely have no idea. I thought you did. That’s why I’m here waiting with—next to you. I’m waiting next to you.”
“Oh my god, Chloe, do you think Adrien might have been—”
“Kidnapped!” She interrupted loudly. “I said it first!”
“It’s not a competition.”
“It is to me.”
Luckily before they could start arguing Adrien suddenly reappeared, coming around the side of the building and barreling towards them with his book bag flapping in the wind behind him.
“Where have you been?” Nino tried to ask.
“Lovely day, innit?” Adrien greeted his friends brightly as he flew past them.
“Wait, what were you do—” But it was too late to ask questions. Adrien was already gone. “Oh well.” Nino sighed. “Guess we’d better follow suit and head to class.”
Chloe crossed her arms and glared at him.
“Neither of us are going anywhere until you admit that I was first.”
Technically she was third, but no one was going to tell her that.
Miss Bustier came in fourth. She did a blatant double take when she arrived at her classroom and discovered that for the first time in living memory Marinette was the first one there. She dropped her chalk in surprise when Adrien uncharacteristically burst through the doors a few seconds after the bell rang. Caline raised her eyebrows at him, but to her further surprise Adrien didn’t even glance her way until after taking his seat. Even then she had to clear her throat to remind him to turn around and face the board. Normally Adrien was one of her most attentive students. She wondered what had gotten into him today.
Sabrina was fifth. She was keeping one eye on the door for when Chloe arrived and she was well positioned to catch the playful wink and tiny wave Marinette directed at Adrien as he walked in, along with the shy blush and jubilant smile Adrien gave her in return. It took Adrien so long to stop staring at Marinette that Sabrina had time to take a surreptitious picture of the carrying-ons with her phone. Chloe would want to know about this.
Whatever this was.
Ivan, Mylene, Juleka, Rose, Alix, Nathaniel and Max all tied for sixth.
Miss Bustier always started off the day by having the students come to the front of the class in pairs and offer compliments to each other. She called it an empathy-building exercise. The pairs were randomly selected by drawing names from a hat and it was just their collective luck that Marinette and Adrien were paired for compliment-giving on that particular morning.
Whether this qualified as good luck or bad luck depended entirely on your point of view.
Marinette and Adrien certainly seemed to consider it good luck, based on the way they practically skipped up to the front of the room as soon as their names were called, giggling and blushing and tripping over themselves in their haste to sing each other’s praises.
“You’re really smart and so kind and you’re always thinking about other people and—”
“You’re really smart and unbelievably kind and you’ve got a great sense of humor and—”
“They know it’s just supposed to be one compliment, right?” Mylene whispered to Alix, deeply confused by the unexpected (not necessarily unwelcome, but definitely unexpected) lovefest playing out before them.
“Since when can Marinette form complete sentences in front of Adrien?” Alix whispered back, equally confused. “She’s not even stuttering or nothing. When did this start? What happened? What did I miss?” She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to find Max leaning forward.
“Do you know what’s going on here?” Max asked them.
“No, we’re totally lost.” Mylene shrugged.
“Kim, what do you think—oh my god. Is Kim already asleep?” Alix shook her head in disgust at her friend who had his head on his desk, a small puddle of drool forming around his cheek. “We haven’t even finished morning announcements.” She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Miss Bustier was still preoccupied with trying (and failing) to politely interrupt the endless volley of compliments Marinette and Adrien were lobbing at each other.
Compliments which had taken a decidedly odd turn.
“Your many virtues have me all abuzz.”
“I purr-fur your company.”
“Okay, students, I think—” Caline cleared her throat, but it had no effect.
“I’m so lucky to know you.”
“And you’re an absolute charm.”
Alix, Mylene and Max all turned questioningly towards Alya, hoping she might have some ideas about this strange turn of events, but Alya was focused entirely on Marinette and Adrien. She wore an expression of equal parts consternation and delight as she surreptitiously recorded them on her phone.
“Pfft.” Alix nudged Mylene. “Look at Ivan.”
Ivan was watching the show as well, a huge goofy smile illuminating his entire face. It was no secret that Ivan had been rooting for Marinette since day one. Or at least, since the day he overheard Mylene and Juleka discussing the matter of Marinette’s crush and got way too excited about it, forcing them to make him swear a blood oath never to breathe a word to anyone. He’d broken that blood oath on day two, but luckily by that point (almost) everyone else in Paris had already figured it out. Nathaniel leaned around the larger boy and mouthed ‘did something happen?’ They shrugged.
“It’s true love!” Rose gushed in a squeaky whisper from the back row.
“Maybe they’re just really good friends.” Juleka muttered from underneath her bangs. Alix couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or sincere, and there wasn’t time to find out.
The classroom door slid open and (much to Miss Bustier’s relief) the Free-style Compliment Battle came to a screeching halt as Chloe and Nino finally arrived.
“Thank god it’s over!” Caline cried. “I mean—thank you, Marinette and Adrien. You can return to your seats now. Chloe, Nino, since you’re the last to come in, why don’t you pair up for Morning Affirmations.”
“Ugh.” Chloe rolled her eyes, giving her hair a disdainful flip. “Fine. Nino? Do you have something to say to me?”
“Why don’t you start today, Chloe?” Caline suggested gently.
“I repeat—UGH. FINE. Okay…Nino, you are…not…a literal mass murderer…as far as I know.”
“Wow, Chloe. Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you.” Nino beamed, feeling genuinely touched. A murmur of approval went up around the classroom as heads were nodded, it being generally agreed upon that this was a pretty good effort by Chloe’s standards.
“And?”
“And you are very good at being first.”
“Thank you.”
***
That left Kim coming in at seventh place.
He napped all the way through morning classes, as was his wont, and come lunchtime he roused himself to make use of the facilities. Kim casually strolled towards the third floor bathroom. It was his preferred bathroom for any number of reasons, the top 3 being:
1: The lock on the window was broken and—unlike the vast majority of school bathroom windows—you could actually open it and get some fresh air as the need arose.
2: Superior graffiti. The third floor bathroom was primarily utilized by upperclassmen who possessed a more sophisticated vocabulary. Less crude dick pics, more new and interesting curse words.
3: It was on the opposite side of the building from the cafeteria and was reliably empty during the start of lunch.
Kim was not a typically shy individual, but everyone has certain activities they would rather only perform in private. The third floor bathroom suited his preferences perfectly—and so it was with great dismay that he realized, only after assuming his seat on the porcelain throne, that he was not alone.
“That’s disgusting.”
Kim nearly screamed when the unfamiliar voice began to sneer, but he clamped his lips shut without a syllable to spare. The speaker sounded close, very close, maybe in the next stall. Kim’s face immediately began to burn red even as the rest of his body broke out in a cold sweat. But before he could defend his entirely natural endeavor, a second more familiar voice replied:
“It’s not disgusting, it’s cute.”
Kim snatched his legs up off the floor when he recognized Adrien’s voice. Being caught on the school can was bad enough. How much worse would it be if the person who caught him was a teen super model? Kim didn’t want to find out.
“It’s a rodent. It’s not supposed to be cute. It is, at best, supposed to be delicious.”
“Okay, two things. One, as we have previously discussed, you are not allowed to eat my future hamster baby. And two, as we have also previously discussed, Hamtaro isn’t real.”
“Of course he is.”
“No. For the last time, Hamtaro is not a real hamster. He is a concept, a children’s book and cartoon character created by—and the only reason I know this is that we’ve had this exact same conversation several times already—Ritsuko Kawai in 1997.”
“You’re saying he’s a manifestation of an idea, with a form resembling, but not realistically mirroring, a cute cuddly animal?”
“Sure, I guess you could say it that way. Can’t imagine why anyone would want to, but sure.”
“Wow. Incredible. Amazing. Astounding. Why, I’ve never heard of anything like it!”
“What are you—oh. Okay, I see what you’re getting at, har har.”
Kim heard the toilet in the stall next to him flush and the inhabitants (Adrien…and a second person for some reason???) walking to the sinks. Kim held his breath and prayed to any god that would listen that he might soon be released from this torment.
“I don’t care what you think. Her dad said she likes hamsters, so I’m giving it to her.”
“Fine. But don’t blame me if she turns you down because you gave her that instead of a proper gift.”
“You mean like a real rodent?” Adrien chuckled as he washed his hands. The second person, Kim couldn’t help but notice, did not wash their hands.
“I was referring to cheese, but yes, in a pinch rodents make an excellent gift for that special someone. Dead birds are also good.”
“I think I’ll stick with what I’ve got, thanks.”
Kim didn’t release the breath he’d been holding until after he heard the bathroom door click shut behind Adrien and his mysterious companion. He was extremely curious and tempted to follow them and learn more, but a twinge in his stomach reminded him why he was there in the first place.
***
“So…”
“So?”
“You and Marinette, huh?”
“WHAT I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT HA HA HA NINO YOU’RE SO FUNNY!”
“…dude.”
“…”
“Dude.”
“…”
“Duuuuude.”
“Okay! Okay! Well…you remember that akuma attack over the weekend?”
“Yeah?”
“Right, well, Marinette and I…used that time to get to know each other a little better…”
“And?”
“And…I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I don’t know! Things are kind of…nebulous right now. So…yeah. I don’t know.”
“But you do like her, right?”
“Wha-wha-wha—”
“Sorry, let me rephrase. You are currently consciously aware of your blatant massive crush on Madam Class President Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right?”
“…like I said. We got to know each other a little better.”
“…uh-huh.”
“Speaking of Marinette, have you seen her around?”
“Why?”
“Uh…no reason…”
“Adrien?”
“Yes?”
“What are you hiding behind your back?”
“…nothing.”
“Adrien.”
“Okay, okay! It’s—well, it’s a Hamtaro plush. I got it from the comic book store down the street before class started.”
“For Marinette?”
“I only want to show her that I—I mean, I know she likes hamsters so I thought—why are you looking at me like that? Is this a bad idea? Do you think she’s gonna hate it?”
“Nah, she definitely won’t hate it.”
“Are you sure? I guess it is a little childish…maybe I should—”
“Relax, dude. It’s a really sweet, thoughtful gift. She’ll love it.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. For one thing, you’re right, she does love hamsters. But she also loves you so I’m sure whatever—”
“She WHAT?!”
“…oops…”
“She LOVES me?! Says who?! Since when?!”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Nuh-uh! No way! You can’t drop a bomb on me like that with no explanation! C’mon dude!”
“…”
“Dude.”
“…”
“Dude.”
“…”
“Duuuuude.”
***
“Marinette!”
“Alya?”
“Marinette.”
“Alya.”
“Mar. Uh. Net.”
“Ah. Luh. Yuh.”
“Marineeeeeete!”
“What?! Sheesh, Alya, what is it?”
“Don’t what me, girl! What yourself! What on earth is going on between you and Adrien?!”
“Oh! Uh…nothing.”
“If you think that answer is gonna fly with me then I am deeply offended.”
“Well…nothing important.”
“Now I’m even more deeply offended. I’m invested in this conversation and your future happiness but if I weren’t I’d be storming away in a huff right about now.”
“It’s really not a big deal.”
“Do you even value our friendship anymore?”
“Ugh…okay, look, it’s not…I don’t know, it’s kind of an inside joke. I guess you could say that we found out we have more in common than we thought.”
“For example?”
“Uh…I guess you could say we both like hamsters?”
“…hamsters?”
“Yeah. Hamsters.”
“So does Adrien have anything to do with the pop-tart sized Hamtaro plushie you are currently cradling to your breast as if it were your first born child?”
“He…he gave it to me…”
“Oh my god!”
“As a joke! It doesn’t have any other significance!”
“And this alleged inside joke means you suddenly have no reservations about complimenting Adrien to his face and are able to wake up on schedule in the morning for the first time in your entire existence?”
“It’s…unrelated.”
“Is there no end to your lies?”
“Look, Alya, it’s not…I wish I could explain, really I do, but I can’t and—”
“Sure. Fine. Whatever.”
“Alya, wait—”
“No, you know what? It’s not fine. Live your life how you choose, but if after everything we’ve been through you can’t trust me enough to tell me the truth about you and Adrien getting together—”
“We’re not together!”
“I recorded this morning’s empathy building exercise, y’know. Shall we refer to the tape? If you and Adrien had built any more empathy, astronauts would have been able to see it from space.”
“W-w-we’re still just friends!”
“How gullible do you think I—…did you say still?”
“…I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean by still, Marinette?”
“…”
“Marinette?”
“…”
“Marineeeeeete…”
***
Speaking of astronauts…
One such creature was getting plastered at a seedy little bar at 2 o’clock on a Monday afternoon a few blocks away.
Events proceeded in the usual fashion. Bad day, bad mood, bada-bing bada-bad butterfly and before you can say bob’s yer uncle, you got bad news.
You know the drill.
Shit hit the fan when Paris hit the fan. Literally. Astrofraught’s first act in his reign of terror was to suspend Earth’s gravitational field within city limits. It wasn’t pretty. Emergency services were immediately flooded with panicked calls made on cell phones from anyone unfortunate enough to be standing in a room with an operational ceiling fan at the time. Equally unfortunate, no one was available to take the calls as they were all cartwheeling aimlessly through the air. Meanwhile the skies filled with disoriented animals and terrified pedestrians who kept telling themselves ‘Ladybug will save us. Ladybug will save us’ as the atmosphere around them grew colder and thinner.
“Excellent work, Astrofraught.” Hawk Moth chuckled from within the safety of his magic-proof lair (he had upgraded his security system after the misadventure with Max’s robot). “Now go find Ladybug and Chat Noir while they don’t have a leg to stand on and steal their Miraculi!”
“Right away, Ground Control.”
“Hawk Moth is fine. Please call me Hawk Moth.
“Roger that, HQ.”
“I said to call me—never mind.” Hawk Moth disconnected the telepathic link. His plan was going perfectly so far and he didn’t foresee any problems in the near future. This was the one, he could feel it.
He also felt the need for a little premature celebration.
He walked over to the lair entrance and tapped the intercom embedded in the wall.
“Nathalie, bring me a large glass of kombucha. Extra fungi, please.”
“…uh…” Nathalie’s response took longer than Gabriel was accustomed to from his ever-professional assistant. “It, uh, might be awhile, sir. Things are a little…topsy-turvy upstairs, at the moment.”
“Very well.” Hawk Moth sniffed disapprovingly. If his staff wasn’t prepared to cater to his whims during a sudden loss of gravity, then what was he even paying them for? “Just make sure my beverage is in my hands by the time Astrofraught delivers the jewels. I will not meet my triumph unable to toast the significance of the moment. Are we clear?”
“Yes sir. I’ll get right on it, sir.”
Nathalie took her finger off the intercom and released the breath she’d been holding. She nervously patted her bun, making sure all the pins were still secure as the top of her head bumped against a bookshelf and her toes pointed to the sky. She avoided looking at a broad splatter of vomit on the rug. The human body was not designed for sudden gravity loss, that was for certain. She made a mental note to move the sofa on top of the stain before Gabriel came back upstairs and saw the damage to his pristine office.
“Your boss is a Grade A dick, if you ask me.”
“Funnily enough…” Nathalie murmured as she tried to doggy paddle through the air towards the door. “I did not ask for your opinion. No one did.”
Funnily enough, the Peacock kwami didn’t care one way or the other if people asked her opinion. She was going to give it anyway or die trying.
“Why not?” Duusu asked, trundling next to Nathalie with ease. Kwamis didn’t experience the effects of gravity anyway, so she was cheerfully unaffected and utterly unsympathetic to Nathalie’s discomfort. “People should ask me things more often. You realize I’m the only one who knows what really happened, don’t you?”
“If there was anything I needed to know that I don’t already, Gabriel would tell me.” Nathalie replied firmly, keeping her attention on the task at hand. She allowed herself a flicker of a smile when she successfully reached the door and pushed it open. “He trusts me. I won’t betray that trust by gossiping about Emilie behind his back.”
“Uh-huh. Suuuuure. Don’t ask the only eye witness how your lover’s wife ended up in a coma or why he decided to keep her Snow Whiting it in the basement instead of taking her to a hospital like a responsible adult. Sounds like a great policy. Very rational.”
“We’re not lovers!”
“Then why are you breast-stroking down to the kitchen instead of bandaging that gash on your shoulder from the ceiling fan? Love is the only—and I mean the only—justifiable excuse for the ridiculously self-destructive choices you have insisted on making ever since we met.”
“What are you getting at?”
“What I’m getting at is that you are in a toxic situation involving an exploitative co-dependency with your boss and there is still time to get out before this turns into a straight-up abusive situation.”
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. There’s the front door. Let’s run. Right now. While he’s still—wait, where are you going?”
“To the kitchen. To get Mr. Agreste’s kombucha.”
“Ugh. You’re hopeless. Completely and utterly hopeless.”
Duusu continued to criticize Nathalie’s life choices as she reached the far wall and made her way to the kitchen by pulling herself along the sconces.
“Answer me this, then…” The kwami said as Nathalie entered the kitchen. “If you trust him so much, why did you tell him you were keeping me inactive?”
“I need you with me in case he requires our services once again. He knows he can always count on me. More information is unnecessary. It is an assistant’s responsibility to anticipate the needs of their client without burdening them with the logistical specifics.”
“Some people would call that lying.”
“Withholding information is not the same thing as lying.”
“Yes, it is. It literally is. It’s called ‘lying by omission’ and furthermore you didn’t just withhold information, you told him to his face that I was inert when you knew damn well I was hiding in your computer bag. So you can take your responsibilities and shove them up your—”
“Bzt…Nathalie?”
The intercom was installed on the opposite side of the kitchen. Nathalie, helplessly floating six feet above the ground, stared at the small box in frustration.
“Nathalie! Respond immediately!”
Nathalie growled with determination and propelled herself across the room by bracing her feet on a cupboard, bending her knees and launching herself sideways through the air like an especially well-coiffed frog. She miscalculated the angle and collided head-first with the ceiling grout, above and to the left of the intercom.
“Nathalie!!!”
“I’m coming, sir!” Nathalie cried as she yanked herself down the wall by digging her fingernails into the triple coating of paint, even though she knew there was no chance of being heard until she pushed the button.
Duusu shook her head in disgust.
“You’re killing yourself—literally, from blood loss, if you don’t deal with that shoulder wound soon—for this guy and I don’t get it. Sure, he’s rich, but he’s not that rich, and I guess he’s good looking in a preying mantis crossed with a sad clown kind of way. But, c’mon, he’s a selfish, manipulative buffoon. He’s not worth it.”
“He is to me.” Nathalie bit out through gritted teeth as she stretched her arm as far as it would go towards the intercom. Just a few more inches and she’d be there. “And besides, love is its own reward.”
“Mutual love, maybe. Unrequited love? Not so much.”
Bzt
Success!
“How can I help you, sir?” Nathalie asked, shooting her kwami a dirty look over her shoulder. The effect was somewhat lessened by the fact that she was completely upside down at the time.
“You’re watching the livestream, right?” Came Gabriel’s response. “Does something seem different about Ladybug and Chat Noir to you?”
“Uh…” Nathalie began to panic. She was not watching the livestream (despite knowing how much her boss relied on her analysis), because she was busy trying to prepare said boss a tall frothy glass of kombucha (per his orders) which she still hadn’t managed to procure, due to extraordinary circumstances that were entirely outside her control (circumstances which were the direct result of said boss’ actions).
I’m a failure as a personal assistant! Nathalie wailed internally.
You’re in need of an intervention, is what you are. Duusu managed to communicate with a single, scathing eye roll.
“Nathalie?”
“Ah! Yessir! I’m here! I can’t, uh, say I’ve noticed anything particularly unusual. Can you be a little more specific?”
“Yes, I suppose it is fairly subtle. Luckily I am a keen observer of the human condition and—did you just laugh?”
“Nossir! Of course not sir!” Nathalie yelped, making furious shushing gestures at her snickering kwami.
“…very well. As I was saying, it’s rather subtle, but thanks to my superior intellect it is clear as day that they’ve been doing team building exercises!”
Nathalie’s brow knit in confusion. It wasn’t that she doubted him, of course not. But she also wasn’t entirely sure how he, or anyone really, would be able to discern something like that in the first place. Or why it would matter.
“Are you certain, sir?”
“Yes, yes. See?! That right there! You saw how they rolled out of the way just now?”
“Uh…yes, I definitely saw that…”
“Right. Well, normally when they get wrapped up in Ladybug’s yoyo like that, they stare at each other for a split, stunned second. Then Chat gets embarrassed and tries to cover it up by making off-color jokes. Meanwhile Ladybug gets flustered and tells him off, overcompensating after dropping her guard for that brief fraction of a second when their eyes met. At least, that’s how it normally goes, right?”
“Right.”
“So what the hell was that just now?! They didn’t even break a sweat! They just smiled at each other for a second before continuing as if nothing even happened!”
“Hmm…”
“And earlier! Remember earlier when Ladybug yanked Chat out of the way of an attack and later realized they were still holding hands? Normally Chat gives her a sheepish grin and a bunch of excuses, right? But today it was Ladybug who started babbling! And then Chat whispered something in her ear and instead of shoving him away, she smiled at him! No—wait—yeah—look! She’s still smiling! It’s like she can’t help herself or something!”
“I see…”
“I’m glad you’re watching this, Nathalie. I expect a complete analysis on my desk by dinnertime.”
“Yes sir.”
“In the meantime, what is your initial conclusion?”
“Well, it seems rather obvious that—”
Nathalie cut herself off and looked up to meet Duusu’s eerie gaze. The kwami was giving her a dark, urgent look and furiously shaking her head. Nathalie bit her lip and chewed nervously. It was obvious to anyone with sense that, whatever the root cause, Chat Noir and Ladybug were now on the same mutual page about their relationship. And now that Nathalie had taken a moment to think about it, she realized…
Someone in this house deserved to be happy, and deep down Nathalie knew that Duusu was right about unrequited love being no kind of reward. She’d sooner die than condemn Adrien to the same fate. She’d protected his identity all along. What was one more secret in the grand scheme of things? But she couldn’t lie to Gabriel without a good reason…
If he ever actually defeats them, Emilie will come back and he won’t need me anymore. Nathalie decided.
It was a selfish reason, but that was good enough for a supervillain’s assistant. And if Gabriel ever found out she lied, he would uncover that reason first and stop digging before discovering the real reason she’s been covering up the burgeoning romance between the two young superheroes all this time.
It was her only good fortune that Nathalie was a very talented liar.
“I think you’re right, sir. They’ve been doing team building exercises. Trust falls, I expect. Maybe they signed up for a professional training seminar.”
“Damn them! Is there no end to their treachery?! Ah well, it makes no difference now. They will never defeat Astrofraught. It’s impossible. Utterly inconceivable. I have foreseen every single possible—”
All of a sudden, the gravity switched back on.
THUD
“…Nathalie? Cancel that celebration kombucha. Make it an honorable defeat kombucha instead.”
“…yes sir…” Nathalie replied weakly from the floor. Her hand trembled as it slipped off the button. Duusu fluttered down and landed on her outstretched appendage. Nathalie blinked at her dazedly. “Smurfette? Is that you?”
“Okay, you’re clearly concussed. Either that or the blood loss is getting to you. Probably both. Now can we get you to the hospital?”
“Not yet…I have to get…I have to…I…what was it again?”
“You have to get to the hospital.”
“…is that what he…wants from…me?”
“Sure. Yeah. Ol’ Bug-Eye Stork-Legs explicitly ordered you to put your own health and wellbeing first and seek immediate medical treatment for your potentially life-threatening injuries, as any well-rounded adult who is capable of empathy would. Sounds believable. Why not?”
“…well…if Gabriel says so…wait a second…”
“Now what?”
“…I feel like…am I…forgetting something?”
“Nope. C’mon, let’s go. You’re dying. We need to hurry.”
Nathalie was almost to the kitchen door when the magical ladybugs passed through the mansion, restoring her to perfect health. Duusu cursed under her breath. Dammit, Ladybug, couldn’t you have waited a few more minutes? I was so close to getting her out of here!
Nathalie cleared her throat, straightened her glasses and checked her bun.
All her pins were still securely attached.
“One kombucha, coming right up.”
“If I weren’t already a god, I’d be praying so hard right now.”
***
“That was quite a battle.”
“It sure was.”
“Very dramatic. Tons of action and suspense. And was it my imagination, or were the quips of a higher caliber today?”
“Y’know, I was just thinking that. I was just thinking ‘we were all really funny today’ just as you said that, milady.”
“Great minds think alike, chaton.”
“It’s because you two are so in sync today.” Rena Rouge rested briefly on her flute and eyed Ladybug and Chat Noir suspiciously. Carapace nodded in agreement as Queen Bee crossed her arms. “Did something happen?”
Chat Noir and Ladybug both blushed and glanced at each other with shy smiles.
“Not really…” Ladybug shrugged.
“Nothing important.” Chat Noir agreed.
If they thought these denials would be convincing, the effect was entirely ruined by Ladybug winking and Chat Noir bursting out into giggles. Queen Bee made a soft retching sound and though Alya hated to be in agreement with Chloe on anything, she had to admit all the sugary sweetness was starting to rot her teeth.
“We just…” Chat Noir sighed happily.
“Got to know each other a little better.” Ladybug finished his sentence for him, a secret twinkle in her eyes.
“So…the two of you are officially a couple now?” Carapace asked for confirmation. Perhaps some of Alya’s journalistic instincts were starting to rub off on him.
“W-w-what?!” Chat Noir turned red, even though it was usually Ladybug who responded with the furious denials. “N-n-no! Where did you even get that idea from? We’re not a couple!”
“Not yet, anyway.”
Everyone turned to stare at Ladybug in stunned silence. Ladybug blinked at them a couple times before suddenly realizing she’d said that last bit out loud. She turned white as a sheet and began to back away towards the edge of the roof.
“Not yet?” Chat repeated. “What do you mean not yet?”
“Uh! Uh! Nothing! Never mind! I’m not acting weird! You’re acting weird! Goodbye now!”
“Ma—milady! Oy, come back here! What do you mean not yet?!”
Rena Rouge, Carapace and Queen Bee goggled after Ladybug and Chat Noir as they disappeared over the rooftops, leaving playful laughter and happy squeals in their wake.
“Do you think…”
“Ladybug and Chat Noir might actually be…”
“ADRIEN AND MARINETTE! THEY’RE ADRIEN AND MARINETTE!” Queen Bee erupted, hopping up and down and waving her arms in the air. She grinned smugly at her colleagues. “I said it first.”
“We all realized it at the exact same—”
“Don’t. Just let her have this. It’s easier that way. Trust me.”
***
fin