Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The last thing Marinette had expected when she woke up that morning was Chat Noir smashing through the window to her front room –especially just as she was trying to make her escape from her parents in order to transform. Never a particularly graceful person, she was used to making a fool of herself in front of people with minimal embarrassment but still found her face burning at the shocked screech that left her mouth.

She watched as the boy tried to pick himself up, wobbling and flinching as he wiped broken glass from his cheek –his bloody cheek, she noted– and wobbled over towards his unlikely entry point.

“Chat Noir!” her mother said in shock, dashing over to him and blocking the way to the window, “What happened? Are you alright?”

He hesitated a moment before he spoke and when he did, it was as if the breath he required to form words pained him. “I’m okay. The akuma just cancelled out my powers, I think. I couldn’t really aim my baton when I tried to jump to the next roof.”

“And you’re still trying to go out there!?” Marinette scolded him, moving away from her staircase to join her mother in standing in front of the window, refusing him access to the outside.

He looked at her like she’d said the most ridiculous thing in the world, attempting to subtly sidestep around her as he did and frowning when she moved with him. “Of course!” he said, “Ladybug hasn’t arrived yet, so someone needs to keep him distracted. Besides, she’ll fix me up when we capture the akuma.”

“But you could die out there without your abilities.”

“That’s just the risk us superheroes take,” he said, clutching his chest as he tried to smirk but instead only managed a grimace.

Marinette looked at him sternly, her lips pursing into a pout.

“No.”

“No? You can’t say no. I’m the hero here, I make calls like this all the time.”

“All the time?” she said in utter disbelief, as he tried to move around her again to the broken pane, “That’s worse! Papa!”

She watched as her father carefully, but firmly wrapped his arms around the much smaller boy from behind, who struggled in his grasp as much as the stabbing and throbbing sensations in his body would let him. He yelped a few times and Tom loosened his grip enough to avoid causing more pain, but not enough to give Chat an escape route.

“You need to stay out of this fight, son,” Tom told him, “Let Ladybug do this one alone. Or she can get one of the other heroes to help. You’ll only make her worry if you get hurt anymore.”

“But she won’t know why I’m not there!” Chat yelled, “I can’t let her risk herself! I need to be there for her!”

Marinette blushed a little at Chat’s obvious concern for her safety over his own well-being, and resolved to have an extremely long talk with him next time she saw him as Ladybug about his severe lack of self-preservation instincts.

“I’ll go ask Alya to put an alert through the Ladyblog,” she told him, “Um, I left my phone upstairs. I might just go and, uh, stay on the line with her while she does it. You know, to make sure Ladybug gets it!”

She dashed up to her room as quickly as she could, transforming the moment the trapdoor slammed shut and sprinting up to her bed and the balcony beyond it. She wanted to take care of this before her kitty hurt himself trying to help her, or worse – trying to fight his way past her parents.

Chapter Text

It had been nice, having someone fuss over him. More than one someone, in fact. The Dupain-Chengs had been determined that he wasn’t facing an akuma in his condition and considering he didn’t have his super strength and he was seriously injured; he hadn’t been in much of a position to argue.

Even after Ladybug had cleansed the akuma and her Miraculous Ladybugs had healed him up, they had insisted he rest a while and eat something. Marinette had come downstairs not long after. She must have seen the footage or heard about it from Alya –because she’d suddenly been in his face, poking and prodding at his ribs to check for bruising.

It had been…nice. Well, weird but nice. They had all been incredibly tactile with him, Tom keeping his hand on his shoulder as he offered him advice on how to possibly distract someone without getting hurt in the future and Sabine laughing and stroking his hair as Marinette continued to manhandle him to check for any lingering injuries.

It was just so different from what he was used to. Even his mom, when she was still around, hadn’t been quite this touchy-feely. She hugged him certainly, but there was usually a real reason; excitement, happiness, comfort. This seemed almost second nature to these people as they skimmed their hands across each other’s backs and shoulders as they walked together to see him out.

The knowledge that this could be a regular occurrence made him long to be closer with Marinette than he currently was at school – hoping that he could eventually be included in the casual touches she passed out to their other friends on a daily basis.

And so, he’d invited her over to his house to work on their French literature project. The whole time she sat on his couch, she’d been absorbed in the book –her nose practically touching the page– though he wasn’t sure he ever caught her eyes moving across the words. He had spent nearly half an hour working up the courage and a plausible reason to ask for a hug, when everything around them had started warping and changing until it became unrecognisable.

As the two of them watched, the room transformed from a standard (for Adrien) bedroom into a wide marbled temple of some sort. The previously blandly painted walls turned to creamy alabaster, each corner propped up by a ridged column decorated with swirling carvings at the top and bottom. Even the wooden door surrounded by a magnificent archway screamed of ancient Greek architecture.

Of course it was one of the worst times for an akuma to show up and start changing all the buildings into something from his history textbook, especially considering how much he hated having to sneak away from his friend in order to return as Chat Noir and rescue her from whatever this Artemis might do if she found her first.

He spotted Marinette as she was about to hide in a bathroom –apparently the only place she could find that wasn’t extremely open plan– and easily scooped her up without catching her clothes on his claws. She clung tight to him as he parkoured his way between the marble pillars and tried to navigate the mansion now that it looked so different.

There were a few times he thought he might have gotten turned around. At one point, he’d thought he’d been in his father’s atelier, but where his mother’s painting should have hung there was now a dark stone passage leading downwards, so he’d decided to follow his nose to fresh air instead to avoid getting lost.

He leapt across a couple of blocks of rooftop before dropping to the ground again and placing Marinette back on her feet. Her hands and face pulled away from his neck slowly, as if worried they weren’t quite grounded yet and she might need him to balance her. His touch starved brain registered every second of contact until she pulled away entirely, almost following her for a second.

“Careful Marinette,” he told her, “I already saved your friend. I’d hate to see you get hurt because I took too long to come back for you.”

“You got Adrien out?” she asked, fingertips coming to rest on her chest and the relief evident in her tone. He felt pleased she had been worried; maybe they were better friends than he’d thought.

“Yeah, but I better go deal with this Greek Goddess wannabe now. Maybe I’ll see you around again soon?”

“I hope so,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back, “My parents and I were worried about you after you’d left. It’d be nice if you came over again so they could stuff you full of pastries.” She smiled and shrugged when he blinked at her silently. “It makes them feel better.”

“Really?” he asked, “I could…just come hang out?”

Marinette’s eyes widened and he started to worry he’d misread what she’d been saying.

“Of course!” Her smile grew as her eyes softened to an affectionate warm glow. “If you want to, it’d be great to have you over. As often as you like.”

He smirked before extending his baton to shoulder height, gripping the end of it as he slowly extended it further to bring him up towards the rooftops again. “I’ll hold you to that!” he yelled just as he readied himself to jump back into the fray.

Chapter Text

“Marinette, help!”

Chat Noir giggled as the army of tiny furballs overwhelmed him and he flopped to the ground dramatically as they began to climb across him.

Smiling affectionately at her silly Chaton, Marinette scooped up the closest kitten to her and continued with her task of brushing the handful of small knots from its fur. “You got yourself into this mess, you get yourself out of it,” she told him with a smirk as the little grey baby in her arms let out a mewl and fought to join its brothers and sisters.

“Actually, I don’t think I want out of this after all,” he smirked before sitting up again, gently removing kittens from his person as he did, “You don’t have to brush them, you know. I just thought you might want to play with them.”

“I don’t mind,” she said, “It’s soothing. And they’re just so cute.” Her voice devolved into baby talk as she held the kitten above her face, giggling when it swatted at her nose playfully.

It was thoughtful of Chat Noir to volunteer at the cat sanctuary, and more thoughtful still for him to have checked with the employees if he could bring a friend to meet the new litter that one of the mamas had given birth to not so long ago. But Chat had insisted that he wanted to do something nice for her, considering how often she and her parents had to “put up with him" recently as he said. Clearly, it didn’t matter how often they insisted they loved having him come over, he was always going to see himself as more of a nuisance.

She glanced over as he finally moved away from the meowing bundles to return to cleaning out litter trays, grinning again as he pulled a disgusted face briefly before ploughing on with his work. She had always suspected he did actually like cats, as opposed to pretending to for his image as a cat-themed hero –the number of puns he had readily available about his namesake a key clue – but she hadn’t realised he was so willing to be hands on with them.

She looked around the area they were working in, once again noting that anyone coming in to enquire about the animals would see them the second they walked through the front door. And it seemed strange but the area they were working from didn’t look like it was normally set up for these kinds of jobs. The room was separated from the front door and counter by an archway in the wall, which had been temporarily blocked by a fold-able child gate wedged into the space. It didn’t seem practical to have cats running around this part when they might easily jump over the barrier.

“Do all the volunteers work from here?” she asked, curiosity finally winning out.

He looked up as he finished disinfecting another empty tray before tipping out the contents of the next one into the trash. “Not usually. Just me. They like it if I work where customers can see me, ‘cause it’s good advertising. Shows they’re endorsed by a hero, or something.”

“And is it?” she asked as she allowed the squirming mass of fur in her arms to escape back into the group, “a good advertisement?

“Seems to be. People get excited to see me. They talk to me and ask for an autograph and before you know it, someone’s appeared from the back with a kitty they absolutely must meet.” He smiled at something he seemed to be remembering. “It always makes them come back to the shop here too for supplies. They want another chance to see me, so they’re willing to pay a little extra for kibble and that money means all the cats here are well cared for.”

Looking at the kittens, Marinette confirmed that they all appeared to be just as well-fed and healthy as he implied. She reached across the mass of furry bodies all screeching out for her attention as she decided to pick up a very specific feline she suddenly had her eye on. “Would they not make enough without you?” she asked, gently stroking between the kitten’s ears with the tips of her nails.

“Well, they have a themed fundraiser ball every year which raises enough to keep them all fed and watered here. But it helps to have a little extra to keep them on the best wet food and as many toys as the money can buy. Plus, they need vaccinations and stuff before they can be adopted so…”

He trailed off as he finished with his pile of litter trays, before grabbing a bag of kitten food and making his way over to her again. Sitting down and pouring out a little food, he noted the black kitten now laying in his friend’s lap, paws outstretched as it tried to grab her now dangling fingers just out of reach of its fuzzy pads. “Who’ve you got there?” he asked.

Marinette giggled again before a small yelp left her mouth as the enthusiastic furball nipped her finger with its teeth instead. “I was about to say he’s my favourite, but he’s a bit naughty,” she said, looking up to meet Chat’s eyes, “Though, I know another black cat who’s just as naughty sometimes, and he’s always stayed my favourite.”

Chat blushed a little, flattered by the implication that Marinette truly saw him as one of her favourite people.

“Well,” he said, beaming widely the whole time, “at least I promise not to destroy your shoes. Which is more than I can say for this little guy.”

Chapter Text

“So, Trashbag jumps right off the table and is about to fall, but then his mama catches him by the scruff and lifts him up to the chair!” Covering his mouth with a clawed hand, Chat gave off a girlish squeal at the memory, which Marinette was certain would be far less endearing coming from anyone else.

“His name is Trashbag?” Sabine asked, taking her eyes from the pictures of the adorable black kitten on the baton screen in front of her in order to give Chat a puzzled glance. Much to the women’s surprise both her daughter and the teenage superhero sitting beside her simply laughed in eerie unison.

“Kittens go fast at the sanctuary, mama,” Marinette told her once her laughter had dissipated, “The workers don’t like to name them properly in case they get attached, but they need a way to list them on the paperwork and stuff.”

“Hence,” Chat explained, “Trashbag, Sponge, Clingy, Broom and Fork.” He pointed to each kitten on a group photo he had taken as he gave her their names. Each one had been named after it’s colouring, with the exception of Clingy, who –he explained– always seemed to be attached to the hip with one of her siblings. Trashbag was black like a trash-bag, nice and simple. Sponge was grey, but he had a black splodge on his back like he’d been used to clean up a spill, whereas Broom and Fork had distinct shapes in the grey markings on their black coats which looked like…well, like a broom and a fork.

Sabine rolled her eyes and sighed through her smile, finding the whole thing ridiculous, but loving the enthusiasm Chat had for all things kitten related. She continued to listen to the stories he was only too happy to share –at least, he had been once Marinette had managed to convince him that they wanted to listen. Sabine promised herself that she would listen raptly and full of interest even if he suddenly started discussing mortgage rates.

Unfortunately, it was her body’s desperate need for more oxygen which betrayed her. She tried to stifle it, but eventually a large yawn erupted from her noisily, and she pressed a hand to her mouth to cover it. “Sorry dear,” she told Chat, “Go on.”

Instead of continuing like she asked, the boy went quiet and his pointed ears flattened back against his hair as his face fell. “I’m sorry,” he said, “You’re tired. You should go to bed. Don’t you have to work early tomorrow?”

“Yes, but I needed to stay up until I was sure Tom was asleep anyway. That man always tries to peek when we make his birthday cake and I don’t want him ruining the surprise before tomorrow.”

“It’s his birthday tomorrow!?” Chat said, ears shooting back up in shock. He turned to Marinette, his tail standing up straight behind him on the couch and twitching as if he felt threatened by the news somehow. “Why didn’t you tell me!? I would’ve gotten him a present. Maybe I can order something, and have it rush delivered. What does he like?”

He opened his baton’s browser and started furiously typing away as the other two watched him panic in stunned silence. Marinette looked over to her mother for a moment, jaw loose and apparently useless as she tried to think of something to say to defuse his gift-fuelled mania.

Equally shocked, Sabine decided to relieve the girl of the responsibility and spoke up instead. “You don’t need to get him anything, dear. We wouldn’t expect you to spend your money on any of us. I’m sure Tom would love just a ‘happy birthday’ from you.”

“No, no, no. I need to get him something,” Chat muttered, and neither Marinette nor Sabine were sure if he was talking to them or just to himself.

“Chat?” Marinette asked, gently reaching out to block his view of the baton and pushing it away so he was forced to look up at her, “Why is it so important to you to get my papa a gift?”

Chat blinked in confusion before moving his head around to look at Sabine and then back to Marinette again. “That’s what you’re meant to do for birthdays,” he said softly, his eyes wide and unsure.

“Yeah, but you didn’t know. No one’s gonna hold it against y-you. Even if we’d told you, I didn’t think, uh…I didn’t th-th-”

Chat’s head tilted curiously as she stuttered to a stop and she was reminded of the kittens and their innocent little looks that always managed to melt her heart.

“I d-didn’t think you felt close enough to us to want to do that,” she finally finished.

“Should I not?”

Oh no, she thought, looking to see that his ears were pinned back again. He wasn’t just confused; he was hurting, and she wasn’t sure she could stand it.

“Of course, you can, dear,” Sabine interrupted, gathering his face in her palms in a motherly gesture before enveloping him in a giant hug, “You’re getting to be like one of the family these days.”

Marinette was sure she had never seen a sunrise or sunset as radiant as Chat’s smile upon hearing her mother’s words. She giggled and as they broke their hug, she immediately yanked him around for one of her own.

“Do all your family get this worked up about birthday gifts?” she asked, another giggle threatening to burst free as she squeezed him. At least, until Chat froze at her words.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, pulling back to look up at his morose expression.

“My dad…” he started, taking a large gulp and closing his eyes as he tried again, “My dad usually forgets my birthday. And my mom, um, she’s gone now, but she used to obsess over finding the absolute perfect present for people.”

“Your father forgets?” Sabine chimed in from beside him, a dark coating of anger lacing her words. When his eyes reopened he saw the same thing reflected in her own, and decided to speak fast before she dragged him out into the street demanding to meet the man and give him a piece of her mind.

“Usually he does. But I think he’s getting better. He got me something this year, and he even made it himself from the look of things.”

“Right.” The small woman’s anger abated only fractionally, and Chat noted to himself never to cross her in the future.

“Well, speaking of making things,” Marinette said, jumping up from the couch with a bounce, “We have a birthday cake to bake and we need to do it quickly so you can rest, mama.”

She turned back to the couch and held out her hand to Chat with a dramatic flourish.

“Wanna help? That can be your gift.”

“Really?” Chat said with a toothy grin, taking her hand and pulling himself to his feet in front of her as Sabine rose to join them as well. “What if I mess it up?”

“Oh shush. Papa’ll love it. And it’ll still be something you’ve made. Isn’t getting it wrong kind of what makes it perfect?”

Chapter Text

“I knew you shouldn’t have let me help,” Chat whispered to Marinette as her mother placed the slightly lop-sided cake in the centre of the table.

For a first attempt at baking a layered cake, it wasn’t too bad. He had obviously put the layers together too heavily, and there were still some lumps in the icing from where the crumb coat had failed to hide that the buttercream and jam inside was desperately trying to escape. But it still stood on its own, and Marinette had taught him how to ice little golf clubs on top, even if they were a little messy. The letters spelling out, ‘Happy Birthday’ had been piped by Sabine, so they looked strangely elegant next to the rest.

But it was clearly kilometres from what they could have achieved without him.

He’d been so nervous all night about what Tom would think of such a disaster food stuff, that he’d snuck away early this morning to ensure he could be there to see for himself –and plead forgiveness if necessary.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Marinette hissed back, “Papa’s gonna love that you wanted to do something for him.”

“I hear whispering,” Tom said from his seat at the table, eyes clamped tight shut at Sabine’s earlier insistence, “Can I look yet?”

“Yes, now you can,” his wife answered, finishing lighting the candle on top quickly, “Happy Birthday, dear.”

Chat held his breath as Tom opened his eyes and took in the cake before him. He looked puzzled for a moment and Chat felt his heart drop from his chest to his stomach. But the look only appeared briefly before it slid from his face, leaving a delighted glow instead.

“It’s fantastic!”

The large man leant forward to blow out the candle, leaning further still when Sabine reached across to kiss him on the cheek. “We all made it. Together,” she said, very deliberate in how she stressed the word to include everyone standing round the table.

“I had a feeling.” Tom beamed and turned his face to address the boy beside him when he spoke again. “I’m so glad you took part, son. Did you enjoy it?”

Giving a nervous laugh and awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck, Chat considered the question. While the whole baking experience could have been considered enjoyable (he fondly remembered the fits of laughter he and Marinette had gotten themselves into when he’d kept getting cake batter all over his face) overall, he’d felt too stressed to fully relax. He wished he’d trusted the Cheng ladies when they’d insisted Tom preferred the hard work and intention that went into making something than some over-priced flashy present. Maybe he could convince them to let him help another time.

“It was good,” he said shyly, his forced bravado no longer something he felt was needed with these people, “I think if I hadn’t been worrying about messing it up so much, I would’ve liked it even more.”

“Hey, as long as it’s edible, it’s a success.”

The hand on his shoulder and the voice in his ear made his gaze stray from her father’s face for Marinette’s instead. She was smiling fondly at him, the reassurance he took from her appearing to take no extra thought on her part – as if it were simply built into her nature to be there for him.

“I’m not sure that’s the best business model for a bakery,” he snickered, “I hear presentation is key.”

“For customers maybe. But we don’t know them, so the way the food looks is all they have to go on. When it’s just us, we know care went into making it.”

“Do you have to go?” Marinette asked, walking beside Chat as he made his way downstairs to the front door, “You’ve barely been here an hour.”

“Sorry.” He grimaced at her words. “It’s a lot earlier than I usually sneak off. I’m frightened someone will notice this time.”

“You say that a lot,” she frowned, “That you sneak off.”

She watched his face for any sign of a reaction, but one didn’t seem to be forth coming when he suddenly became very interested in the last stair they had just stepped down. While she didn’t want to press the issue, she felt it was important for Chat’s self-esteem that he knew she wanted to be there for him, whatever he needed. She just wasn’t sure how to do it.

It was a strange thing, their new-found friendship on this side of her mask. She hadn’t expected him to be so interested in spending time with a random civilian girl he’d helped a bunch of times, but in hindsight now, she could see that Chat didn’t have a lot of positives in his home life.

As much as she liked to complain that her mama and papa were so involved in her life that they were embarrassing and knew too much, she knew that ultimately, they were amazing parents. They worried for her well-being whilst also giving her a lot of freedom to enjoy her young life – and even took an interest in what she liked and who she spent time with.

Chat had mentioned a few friends here and there, but she got the impression he never got much time to see them. Last night’s bombshell about not having a mother anymore, and the kind of person his dad was had made her realise just how much hurt her sweet Kitty must have been hiding the whole time she’d known him. Her heart ached when she thought about him going home to that every day.

“Hang on!”

Her dad’s hulking form came dashing around the corner at the top of the staircase and Marinette very nearly shrieked when he stumbled on his way down towards them. He took a moment to catch his breath before pressing a small cake box into Chat’s hands.

“A couple of slices of birthday cake,” he said in response to Chat’s blank look, “Take them home. Maybe…share one with your father?”

Ah, so her mama had spoken to him about her partner’s home life. It seemed they were just as concerned as she was.

“Oh, I couldn’t. It’s your birthday. I would-”

“You’re family, son. I insist.”

Chat’s mouth gaped and he took a few moments to remember how to form words, but when he did, it was with the largest grin she’d seen him wear in a while.

“Right. Thank you.”

As much as Adrien would have liked to just walk up to his father and offer him some of the cake he’d helped make, in reality he was borderline terrified of the questions that might lead to and he needed time to psyche himself up for them.

But he also didn’t want to let Tom down after the man had been so kind to him, so after a lengthy discussion with Plagg he had decided to leave a slice of cake in the box, along with a brief note saying he hadn’t wanted to disturb his father. Hopefully, he would be more prepared by the time the man found time to ask him about it.

A quick check by Plagg to make sure the coast was clear, and Adrien had stolen away into his father’s empty office. He left Plagg to listen for anyone making their way towards him as he placed the cake on the desk, but he had barely taken two steps away from the kwami when they both straightened at the sound of voices coming towards them.

Panicking, he grabbed Plagg and ducked down under Nathalie’s desk – figuring that if she was the one to find him, she’d be the more understanding and possibly keep quiet until he had managed to wiggle his way out of this. He waited with baited breath as the voices drew closer and it was only as the door was opening that he registered that while one of the two was certainly Gabriel Agreste, the other was unfamiliar to him.

“-just think there are better ways, Master.”

“I have told you time and time again, Nooroo. I am in charge here and I know what is in my family’s best interests. Now you will keep quiet until we are safely in the butterfly chamber – at which point you will be transforming me and therefore still silent.”

Unable to believe what his own ears were hearing, Adrien carefully lifted his head above the desk slowly until his wide eyes could make out his father, standing by his mother’s painting with his back to him.

As well as the small purple kwami floating beside his shoulder.

“Yes, Master,” the little being said sadly before flying into the suit jacket Gabriel was holding open for him. Unable to do anything more than stare in horror, the boy watched as his father pressed his hands against the painting before disappearing into the floor beneath it.

Chapter Text

To say the thud above Marinette’s head was unexpected would be an enormous understatement. There were only two ways she knew of to access the balcony above her –other than when she arrived by yo-yo, of course– and she was already inside her bedroom, so she knew no one had come from this direction.

The only other way was if someone in the building behind the bakery had climbed onto the roof and over the adjoining wall. The thought that some unsavoury person could be planning to climb down into her room made her unwilling to leave the noise un-investigated.

Gesturing silently to Tikki to climb into her purse, Marinette grabbed one of her larger, more intimidating looking knitting needles and quickly climbed up to her bed. She inched the skylight window open sneakily, trying to avoid alerting anyone who might be on the other side.

It became apparent almost instantly that the figure perched on her railing wasn’t some mystery thug, but Chat Noir. What wasn’t so obvious was why he was here, on her balcony instead of using the front door like normal, or why he was trying so desperately not to cry.

From her lower vantage point, she could see how ragged his breathing was and he kept alternating between blinking rapidly and trying to widen his eyes impossibly, as if that and willpower alone would allow him to stave off his tears.

She all but erupted from the window, dropping the knitting needle to her bed as she did so. “Chat, what’s wrong?” she said, her worry evident in her tone.

He turned to look at her, his face crumpling as soon as his eyes met her own, and he dropped from the railing to the stone floor, grabbing her tightly in his arms as he started to shake.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he sobbed.

“Marinette? Honey?” Tom called as he and Sabine stepped through the door to their living space. Marinette was often one to exaggerate just how bad things were in her social life, but she would never abuse their agreed codeword so, when both he and Sabine had received text messages that said nothing but the word, “gumdrop,” it had been an easy call on whether they should leave the bakery in their only employee’s hands for a while.

“Over here Papa,” Marinette said quietly from her seat in the middle of the couch.

As they made their way over, it quickly became apparent that Marinette wasn’t alone. A blond head lay in her lap, two black, pointed ears flat against it and the rest of the boy was sprawled out across the cushions. His eyes stared out ahead at the blank television and the residue of moisture on his cheeks glinted in the light from the front window.

Marinette continued to pet his hair as her parents approached the couch, Tom coming to sit beside her while Sabine lowered herself to the floor on her other side, in front of Chat.

“Sweetheart,” Sabine said fondly, reaching out to run her own hand through his blond locks, “What’s the matter?”

Chat’s eyes closed and his brow furrowed as if in pain, his head shaking a little against Marinette’s lap. “I can’t go home,” he said, “It’s…it’s not safe for me there anymore.”

“Did someone do something to you?” Tom asked gingerly, not wanting to upset him any more than necessary, but feeling it was important to find out what they could, so they would be able to help in the best way possible.

The boy’s head shook again. “Not exactly,” he rasped, throat dry from crying, “It’s complicated. My dad…I just know I can’t go back.”

“Mama? Papa?” Marinette said, looking between the two with desperation flooding her eyes, “Can he stay here? At least for tonight? Please.”

“Of course, he can,” Sabine said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “He’s staying as long as he needs to. Even if that means we’re helping him apply for college.” She rose from the floor and leant over the boy, who had finally focused on something tangible by turning to look at her. Placing a kiss on Chat’s forehead, she smiled sadly at him before addressing Tom. “Do you think you could go call in some more help to run the bakery today? The agency number is on the notice board in the hall.”

Both of Marinette’s parents left the room, but they returned quickly enough, Sabine coming back first and bringing a large blanket with her. She gently tapped Chat’s legs and –slowly– the boy moved himself into a sitting position so she could sit down next to him, his head bowed and completely silent.

Sabine shook out the blanket and draped it across his shoulders before pulling him against her chest in a tender, motherly hold. “Shhh,” she whispered, though Chat still made no noise, “It’s okay sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

Marinette wasn’t sure when her papa had reappeared, but she definitely felt him press against her back as he pulled them all into a tight group hug. She wrapped her arms around Chat’s middle, and her papa’s arm leant against the two of them as he grasped her mama’s.

It wasn’t long before the tears were back, and Chat sniffled into her mother’s shoulder while Marinette felt her chest tighten and ache for him. She wasn’t sure her heart could take the agony and she was only feeling second hand pain. It must have been nothing to how Chat was feeling.

“I w-want my m-mom,” Chat hiccupped, and Marinette couldn’t hold back any longer. She hugged him tighter, tears streaming down her face, genuine and ugly.

“Shhh,” Sabine repeated, stroking his hair and rocking him gently, “I know, sweetheart. All I can do is try to be the next best thing.”

“It’ll be okay, Kitty. We’ve got you,” Marinette sobbed into where she was pressed against his blanketed back, “You’re…you’re f-” – she gulped down a sniffle- “You’re f-family.”

Turning slightly in her mama’s arms, he slung an arm around the girl, crushing her to his chest while allowing Sabine to continue stroking his hair. “Thank you,” he sobbed, “Thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

Gasping at the shock of being practically dragged into Chat’s lap so he could hug her, Marinette pushed down the odd feeling churning in her stomach. The one that was telling her that while she cared deeply for her kitty, the word “family” just didn’t quite feel right.

Chapter Text

“Wake up, sweetheart.”

Chat groaned as a blurry Sabine gently shook his shoulder. He blinked repeatedly until she came into focus and for one blissful second, he was confused –wondering why she was here in his room– but then it all came rushing back to him, and the emotional rapids with it.

“We’ve only got you set up temporarily for tonight,” the woman told him from where she was perched on the edge of the couch next to him, “ The chaise isn’t very good for more than a couple of nights, but it’s better than this old thing. We’re working on getting you a real bed tomorrow.”

“Bed?” Chat said, sitting up in a hurry of tangled blankets and cushions, “Please tell me you aren’t buying one for me? The couch would’ve been fine, honest.”

“Nonsense,” she said with a sweet smile, “Besides, we all have to use the living-room and three other people in your space all the time will have you on edge.”

“But, you don’t have another bedroom,” Chat remembered suddenly. He’d been given the tour around his second or third visit and discovered the place was actually only a one-bedroom place, since Marinette’s room had been the attic originally and just converted into a room for her. “If I’m not sleeping here, then where…?”

“Upstairs.”

“Well, yeah. I figured that for tonight,” he said –after all she’d mentioned the chaise and he knew that was Marinette’s– “but if you’re getting me a bed, where are you going to put that?”

She smiled affectionately and shook her head a little before speaking slower and clearer to be sure he understood. “Up. Stairs.” She gestured for him to follow her and made her way up to the attic as he just sat there with wide, unblinking eyes.

“Then we get another screen –a much bigger one, mind you– and it can go here to split the room if either of you ever need your own space.” Tom gestured to the rough centre of Marinette’s room, using his hands to illustrate roughly how tall the screen he had mentioned would be. “I’ve seen plenty of them in that little homewares place the next arrondissement over. It’s just that they’re a little plain-”

“But I can always decorate them with a design or two,” Marinette interjected, “I know what kind of things I like for my side, so I just need ideas from you on how you want the other side done.” That seemed to make her consider something and she narrowed her eyes as she glanced about the room. “Actually, maybe we could redecorate the walls, so you’re not overwhelmed by pink all the time.”

Still reeling from the shock of learning he and Marinette were going to be sharing a room, Chat just stared from where he had slumped down on the chaise, green duvet pulled tightly around his shoulders. They had now talked him through a few of their ideas for completely rearranging Marinette’s room –to create a space specifically for Chat– and he hadn’t even managed to respond to them once. It was a bit much to come to terms with.

He could barely believe he’d only been asleep for a few hours considering all the thought they’d put into his move already. Even just being offered a place to stay was more than he’d hoped to get when he’d disrupted everything. And here they were thinking about his long-term happiness already.

He considered the different ways they wanted to make space for him up here. One possibility was placing one of the large desks that made up the space beneath her bed to under the window by the chaise instead, the other moving further along from where it already sat to make room for another bed beneath the loft. Another –the one involving the screens– left Marinette with one side of the room and him the other. One of the desks would still be relocated to his side –along with his bed when they got one– and the chaise moved beside the wash-basin, the screens effectively separating the large room into two.

It wouldn’t be very big –there was barely enough room for all of Marinette’s projects at times already– but it would be his. A shared space, yes - but one where these people had made room in their lives just for him. It was far more than his father had ever done for him.

Shaking off that thought quickly before he started dwelling too much and upset himself again, Chat decided to just go ahead and address the elephant in the room. He turned to look at Marinette. “Am I the only one thinking it’s odd you’re all okay with a boy sharing your room?”

He watched as a deep scarlet started to spread across her face at his words, seeping from the opening of her shirt and even going so high as to dust the tips of her ears. Oh. Despite his question, he hadn’t expected that. It was a strange disconnect from reality to see her so cool and confident while talking about the logistics of him living in her room one minute, and then for her to be so utterly mortified the next.

“Yes, well-”

“Don’t you dare, Papa.”

Chat glanced from one glaring Dupain to the other in confusion, pleading with his eyes for someone to explain the silent warfare going on before him.

“Fine!” Marinette huffed, throwing her hands out in front of her and surprising him with how loudly she spoke, “But I refuse to be here while it happens.” She stomped out of the room, muttering something under her breath as she went. It sounded suspiciously like she’d used the words, “embarrassing” and “ridiculous.”

“Right, son,” Tom said, face suddenly stern and vaguely terrifying, “It’s time we had a talk about appropriate behaviour between a teenage boy and girl living under one roof.”

Chat gulped.

It’d been a long, emotional day for Chat Noir - for them all. He should have been exhausted and yet, he wasn’t. He just couldn’t stop thinking about his father. About Ladybug. And about how he wasn’t ready to face either of them yet.

What would he even say? If he had stayed and confronted his father, the man would have most likely tried to keep him locked up and isolated again. He wouldn’t even have been given his phone or an internet connection this time around - in order to try and keep him from telling anyone what he knew. And if he’d kept what he’d discovered to himself, and Hawkmoth’s powers really worked the way Master Fu had told him they did, his father would have soon known something was up. He would have detected the constant panic and distrust eventually and realised that Adrien knew more than he was supposed to. And that would have been the end of his short life, because –if he was being perfectly honest– he would die inside if he was forced to return to the way he used to live now that he’d had a taste of freedom.

As for Ladybug, he wasn’t sure how she’d react. Would she want to know Hawkmoth’s identity immediately? Or speak to Master Fu first to decide if learning who Chat was under the mask was too big a risk? Would she be angry with him for not saying something immediately? Would she be angry at him just for his blood connection with a magical terrorist? Would she and Master Fu try to take his Miraculous to avoid it falling into his father’s hands? He needed to know what he was or wasn’t going to tell her before the next akuma showed up.

At least he had bought time with his father. It had been worrying Chat how quickly he’d managed to put together a logical fallacy so he could continue to go to school and things when he wasn’t hidden in plain sight as a super-hero. Worrying mostly because that’s exactly how his father tended to think when coming up with solutions. Cold and calm planning calculated through creating an emotional distance from the situation until later.

He knew he could have simply disappeared as Adrien altogether, but his father would have had people out searching every home in Paris for him - he would have been slapped across every news outlet as a missing person. It wouldn’t have taken long for someone to spot him, or for Marinette and her family to connect the dots. And then how would they react?

So instead –before he’d run off to the bakery and allowed himself to break down– he had written a long letter. He had detailed everything he had seen and worked out in hindsight about his father’s activities as a terrorist, including the entrance to his lair and that Ladybug and Chat Noir had suspected Gabriel at one point. He’d also talked about years of neglect and emotional manipulation by the man to show that it wasn’t exactly a recent lapse in his moral compass that had led to him attacking Parisians on a daily basis. The letter had been attached to an email he had sent to his father, in which he explained that should Gabriel or anyone else try to take him home, or if his friends (or anyone seen with him) were approached or threatened or bribed in any way, then an email containing his letter was set to send to the press. He explained that it was held in more than one private cloud system he had signed up for, and should he fail to sign in and reset his scheduled mail each day, it would send automatically. It was a genuine, legitimate threat as well and if Gabriel decided to check his online history, he’d see hundreds of different cloud services Adrien had researched, choosing ones with free access, to ensure his father couldn’t cut them off by refusing payment.

He just hoped it was enough to dissuade the man from appearing at school, because Adrien was going to be a nervous wreck tomorrow as it was.

He looked up in the dimly lit room, seeing everything as clear as if it were day with his super-powered night-vision. There seemed to be a lot of movement coming from the loft and he wondered if Marinette was having just as much trouble falling asleep as he was.

“Are you asleep?” he whispered.

“No,” came the hushed response almost instantly, “I should be though. We both should.”

“Yeah. Just can’t stop thinking.”

“I know, Kitty. I know.”

He honestly didn’t know what he’d do without this girl and her parents right now. They had taken him in even before this whole mess and showered him with so much love and care when he visited that he wasn’t sure how to handle it. And now here they were, making a space for him in their home, in their lives. And he hadn’t even told them why.

“Thank you,” he said for what must have been the hundredth time, “You and your parents didn’t need to do this.”

“Of course, we did. Mama and Papa have practically adopted you already.” She yawned loudly as she finished speaking.

That was another thing…

He looked up to her bed. Looked away again. Bit his lip. Glanced back to her. He wasn’t going to say it. There was no way he was going to ask such an awkward question so he might as well just go to sl-

“Hey,” Damn it! “if your parents have adopted me…does that make me your brother?”

There was silence for a moment, and he thought maybe she had fallen asleep, but the sudden rustling of the duvet and a quick glance at her sitting upright and staring through the dark in his general direction quickly corrected him.

“No,” she said firmly, “No, you are not my brother. You are…” she looked pained and uncomfortable for a second until she settled on a word that her face told him she didn’t quite agree with, but was the best she could offer right now, “you’re my friend.”

Chapter Text

It had been two weeks since Chat had moved in and things had been…an adjustment.

On one hand, Marinette was relieved that Chat was a little more at ease than he had been at first. When she’d woken up on Monday morning, she’d noticed the chaise was empty, the duvet neatly folded. She had worried that Chat had left at first, until she heard his muffled freak out downstairs.

His voice had been faint, and she had followed it all the way downstairs and into the hall until she realised it was coming from the bathroom.

“But what if he is there, Plagg? What if he tries to take me out of school anyway? And I didn’t even think to pack! I can’t wear the same clothes all week, everyone at school will notice!”

With a soft knock, and a strong voice, she had reassured Chat that he wouldn’t have decided to go to school if his plan to keep his father away wasn’t air-tight. Once she had convinced him to leave the bathroom, her parents had assured him they would sort something out after school about his clothing issue and –being the amazing parents they were– they had bought him a variety of things to wear. Things she wasn’t allowed to see, apparently - as Chat seemed to think it would be a bad idea in case she ever recognised his (probably very generic looking) hoodies or jeans on some random boy on his way home from school.

That had also been strange - watching him disappear in the mornings and reappear each afternoon as he went to and from school. Stranger still that he always seemed to stay out after school on the same days she did, but she figured it was just her natural luck making sure she never had to leave him alone.

Of course, that didn’t mean it was kittens and rainbows all the time.

“Oh my God, Chat!” she shrieked when she came upstairs to see him trying to strip away his bedding yet again, “Please tell me you did not get footprints all over it again!”

They had accidentally discovered a major side-effect of Chat being forced to stay transformed as he slept. Since his suit was all in one piece (other than his tail) he couldn’t take off his boots to sleep, at least not with dropping his entire transformation.

Marinette had needed to teach him how to use the washing machine after the first time his boots ended up leaving marks on the sheets. He had begged her to let him be the one to clean them, since he’d felt awful about the whole thing, but it turned out he didn’t have a clue how to do many basic household chores and needed guidance to be of any help.

Her papa had walked in on him trying to transfer the sheets to the dryer and had tried to console Chat for another, entirely different issue. She’d been about to come downstairs when she’d heard some of the conversation and decided to stay out of sight to avoid spontaneously combusting on the spot if either male saw her. Tom had thought he was being subtle (he really wasn’t) and seemed embarrassingly deaf when the boy tried to explain he’d only been trying to wash away mud and nothing else. Eventually he had believed him and left Chat alone to die, thank God.

“Um, not exactly,” the present Chat said nervously, trying to shove the duvet cover behind his back.

She narrowed her eyes at his worried expression; there was no embarrassment there, only fear at being chastised. “Show me.”

Hesitantly, Chat held up the cover for her to see. The dark green cotton had a large tear in the material on it, right where his arm would have rested if he’d slept with it above the covers. She looked up at his face in puzzlement while his brow creased. “I knead in my sleep,” he explained awkwardly, “and these claws are really sharp.”

“Right! That’s it!” she snapped, spinning about on her heel and grabbing some yarn and needles from beneath her desk, “We are stopping this right now!”

He looked stupid. Utterly ridiculous. And happier than she’d ever though he could be.

He waved his oversized, mittened hands in Sabine’s direction again, proudly showing them off and letting her compliment the shade of blue yarn he seemed to love. She wasn’t even sure why she had used that yarn. Since the day she’d finished the scarf she had made from it, she’d left the rest aside untouched, afraid to replace the memory of seeing Adrien wearing her gift with another, less important image in her head. It seemed especially strange that she honestly didn’t seem to mind that now she often thought of someone else whenever she saw that shade of blue.

Her mama was laughing now, and she stopped zoning out long enough to see her Chaton lifting a foot to display his oversized sleep socks. They were double the thickness of the yarn –just like the mittens– and had a drawstring near the top to ensure they didn’t fall off during the night. And they were also in that same shade, the one that should have reminded her of a clear sky seen from behind Adrien as he smiled at her softly on a warm day, but instead now made her think of the cool ice illuminating Chat from below as they skated their way to defeating Frozer, a wicked smirk on his lips as he looked at her.

She shook her head. She’d put a lot of work into Chat’s sleep accessories to ensure he never needed to drop his transformation to get some rest at night. But these days she honestly wondered; would it really be so terrible if she did find out what he looked like beneath that mask?

Chapter Text

Marinette dashed up the stairs to the attic room, flinging the trapdoor open and thanking Tikki and her natural luck that it hadn’t been locked this time.

Now that Chat was settled in and had been living with her family for about a month, they were both increasingly comfortable with giving each other some much needed space, and Marinette had returned to her usual routine of seeing her friends after school and during the weekends. She was especially pleased to find that Adrien had been given a lot more freedom lately and she had taken many opportunities to let him catch up on the experiences he had missed out on before. Sleepovers with Alya had resumed (though entirely at her best friend’s house now; Marinette was starting to run out of excuses to keep her from coming over) and overall, Marinette was ecstatic to go hang out with friends.

Likewise, Chat often disappeared to spend time with his own friends – sometimes at the same time as her, sometimes leaving their room in her solitary care for several hours. There were times since she had returned to her usual social circle that she had come home to discover the trapdoor locked and had to knock for him to let her in. He had confessed that first time, that he was using the solitude to detransform and have a breather from the mask. He had also –surprisingly– explained to the whole family about his kwami, gaining permission to let Plagg explore the house a little while Chat waited upstairs.

Marinette had loved having the opportunity to grill Plagg on how her partner was really doing and, as long as her parents weren’t around, she could let Tikki and him chat and spend time together too.

The downside, of course, was working out ways to call Chat as Ladybug to arrange patrols. She didn’t like this unfamiliar radio silence from Hawkmoth, and she was starting to think she should ask Chat what he really thought of it all, since all he’d done so far was to make off-hand comments about them being lucky.

So, into their room she dashed, determined to grab a coat to protect from the sudden chill, before heading back out to transform and call him. Instead, her foot slipped out from under her and she fell to the floor hard, staring up at the ceiling fixtures.

Sitting up, she spotted a sheepish looking Chat. He was wearing his sleep socks and holding a polishing rag against the laminate flooring in the strangest combination she’d expect. Looking around the room quickly informed her that Chat had been busy; all the furniture had been pushed back to the edges of the room and even the rug was rolled up and standing in the corner.

“Are you okay?” Chat asked in concern.

She gave a one-shouldered shrug in response. “I’ve had worse,” she told him, “What are you doing though? You’ve made the floor so slippery.”

He grinned widely and, not for the first time, she was reminded of the famous Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. She’d much rather this cat stuck around though; she was starting to get used to having his face around.

“Yeah,” he said, “It’s gonna be excellent.”

Throwing the polishing cloth over to his bed where he had pushed it up against the large round window, he lowered himself to a sitting position and scooted himself over until he was beside her. Pushing himself to his socked feet, he took a deep breath.

Before Marinette could ask again what he was doing, he took a couple of fast steps before shifting his body weight into a slide. His sleep socks slid against the polished floor perfectly, allowing him to control much of his movement by simply shifting his weight and she watched as he twirled and whooped in joy once he started to get the hang of it.

Marinette gave off a huge snort of laughter. “You turned our floor into an ice rink,” she giggled from where she sat crossed legged in front of the door, watching him skid and slide his way around the room in glee.

“Heck yeah, I did,” he cried, “You should try this, it’s great!”

He ‘skated’ over to her to offer his hand and, smiling, she took it. Soon enough, she found herself slipping around in her own stocking feet, giggling and shrieking like a happy little kid. She didn’t have nearly as much grace as Chat did at this, but every time she wobbled, he was there instantly, offering her his hands until she managed to steady herself again.

She accidentally pushed him over once or twice, losing her balance and automatically whipping her arms in circles so erratic that he was knocked to the ground when they made contact with him. “I’m sorry!” she said after the third time Chat had made a harsh landing with the laminate involuntarily.

“It’s fine,” he chuckled, eyes flashing with mischief, “As long as I can still dance at the fundraiser for the sanctuary next Friday, I’ll be okay.” He made an exaggerated show of tapping at his arms and legs to test for injuries and when he came up empty, finally stretched out his hand to her.

That damned smirk on his face should have told her that he was up to no good, but if Marinette had realised, she had done so too late. She reached out to take his hand and help him back to his feet, but instead of pushing up from where he was, Chat tugged her down towards him with that smirk on his face the whole time. Her feet lost traction on the slippery floor, tipping her forward towards him and she squealed in brief panic as she began to fall. She landed in a heap on top of him and he dropped back to the ground beneath her, body trembling in laughter at the indignant glare she sent his way.

As she was pushing herself up a little, Marinette accidentally pressed her fingers against the side of his ribs, giving a slow predatory smile when he flinched beneath her with a squeak. Instantly she was moving to tickle every inch of him she could reach as Chat squirmed beneath her, giggles spilling over between exhales of “Stop!” and “No!”

He attempted his own offence, but he was too afraid of his claws hurting her and he failed to apply the correct pressure to make her laugh. Instead he was forced to try restraining her hands to stop her terrible onslaught, finally succeeding in grabbing her wrists and holding tight as he caught his breath.

Both teens calmed their laughter together, quickly coming to the same awkward realisation that they were pressed close together on the floor. Marinette was horrified to realise she had absolutely no way of propping her self up to pull away from Chat whilst he still held her wrists hostage and that she was trapped until he came to the same realisation.

Yelping suddenly as if burned, Chat let go of her and she hastily crawled away from him, sitting back on her heels and simply staring for a moment. To her surprise, Chat remained where he was lying, a blush adorning his face as he focused on the ceiling instead of her.

She was even more surprised by the large snort of laughter that escaped him next, a fit of giggles following in its wake, so infectious she couldn’t resist laughing along with him.

Finally, both teenagers laughed themselves out, sprawled against the flooring and sides aching pleasantly, all traces of awkwardness completely dissipated.

“Next time,” she snickered, “let’s go to an actual ice rink instead.”

Chapter Text

“They changed the theme!” Chat yelled as he launched himself through the trapdoor, scaring Marinette who nearly fell from her desk chair when she jumped.

Placing a hand over her thumping heartbeat, she turned to look at him as she tried to catch her breath. “Who did?” she gasped.

“The sanctuary!” he said, pushing back the divider screen enough to grab his own desk chair from behind it and rolling it over towards her own. He flung himself down in it cross legged and used the desk to pull himself in closer to her. “They decided to do a space theme at first, but now they’ve changed it because there’s some sci-fi thing on at the hotel on the next day and they’re worried people will mix the two up.”

“And that’s…bad?” Marinette asked, failing to see why he was so worked up about this.

“Well yeah!” he grumbled, “Now the suit I called in a favour to borrow isn’t going to work. I need something Victorian looking, not spacey.”

Oh, that was a problem. She would have offered to make him a suit, but he’d insisted he didn’t want her going to too much trouble and that he knew someone with the perfect suit he could borrow, though he’d have to ask as his civilian self. But now the ball was only a few days away and although the richer guests could probably afford to have something else acquired at such short notice, her parents didn’t have the money to speed-ship him something as unique and probably expensive as a Victorian era outfit.

“Victorian? Well…” she bit her lip as she considered one option she wasn’t keen to try, “I could always text Adrien and see if Gabriel has anything he would let you borrow that-”

“No.”

His lips had pursed, and he seemed to be contemplating the flooring as if it had gained sentience and peed in his cereal. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Why not?”

“I’m not gonna make him ask for a favour from someone who seems to enjoy disappointing him and tearing him down.”

Since moving in, Chat had gotten to know all of her friends through what stories she had told him of them. Despite never meeting any of them (except for the odd brush during an akuma battle in the past) Chat seemed to have a very good read on their personalities and circumstances and had done so surprisingly quickly. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was good at making them come alive with her silly ramblings about them –or if Chat was just very good at reading between the lines– but he’d been quick to spot that Adrien’s father was less than stellar. Marinette suspected that he related to the boy’s situation because of his own dad and whatever it was that had made it too dangerous for him to go home.

“Okay, fair enough - a good point, even. But then what are you going to do?”

He looked up thoughtfully at the ceiling, rubbing a claw tipped finger against his chin as he did so. She could see his mind working behind the glaze of his eyes and knew he had an idea when they lit up, alive and green again.

“Well, that did make me think. The person I was going to borrow the suit from doesn’t have a lot of stuff like that, but I’d forgotten there are other people I know with connections that could get me clothes. I just hadn’t considered them, because–” –his face crumpled, and his voice turned conflicted– “–they know my dad.”

“Is…is it going to be safe to ask them?”

“Yeah, I think so. A few of them have kept quiet before with other stuff, so he wouldn’t…I really don’t think they’d tell anyone.” He seemed to take a further second to convince himself silently before sitting upright and giving a firm nod. “Yeah. I’ll see if I can get us a dress and suit. Any colour preference?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at his words, her head tilting slightly in confusion. “Me?” she asked, “Why would I need a dress?”

“Oh,” Chat said quietly, his mature and determined look fading to reveal an insecure boy again, face dusting bright pink beneath his mask. “I, um, thought you realised you were, um…invited. I can bring a guest, free of charge, you see. You don’t even need to take part in the silent auction either - I don’t. I just thought, er, you might like, um…” he devolved into mumbling; words barely understandable in his obvious embarrassment, “It can be fun. At times.”

Forcing down the warm glow in her chest, but smiling regardless, Marinette lowered her head slightly to ensure he caught sight of her. When he glanced up, she noted the way his shoulders hunched as if he was Carapace instead of Chat; a turtle trying to move to the cover of safety within his familiar shell.

She reached out tenderly and placed her hand on his knee, her stomach fluttering uncomfortably at the way his eyes dropped to it immediately, a deeper blush quickly taking over the old one.

“I’d love to come!” she told him, praying the heat she felt bloom across her cheeks wasn’t visible to him and knowing it was anyway, “I just wished you’d said earlier so I could’ve made something.”

He groaned and dropped his face for a moment before looking back up, eyes flickering to her hand on his knee again briefly (but not so briefly she hadn’t seen). “I thought you’d realised already. You made that really pretty dress from the satin with the galaxy print on it. I thought it was for the ball.”

She giggled. “I just liked the way that material shimmered. It looked extra special with all the colours and stars and I wanted to make something that flowed when it moved to continue the feeling it gave off.” She took back her hand to cover her mouth as she giggled again, and when she looked back up, Chat had moved to bring his knee up beneath his chin, both hands folded over the exact spot her skin had met.

“So,” he squeaked, coughing to clear his throat of the embarrassing crack in pitch, “dress colour?”

“I’m not going to be fussy if we’re relying on a bit of help here,” she smirked, “but I think you should know by now that anything pink is a winner.”

Chapter Text

Chat grinned at Marinette’s face; jaw open in a gasp at the severe mix of outfits. Expensive tailored costumes, store bought ones with quick alterations and those thrown together from closets at the last minute all adorned the guests filling the hall.

“I can’t believe you thought they’d all be rich people,” he said with a touch of humour, chest swelling in smug pride when she narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

“You made me think this was a big deal with the way you panicked over your suit,” she accused in a hushed tone, quickly forcing a smile onto her face when a girl in a steampunk style cosplay ventured over to ask Chat for an autograph.

“Well, it is a big deal for me,” he told her once the girl moved on to show her friends the treasured piece of paper, “I’m the new celebrity endorsement. Speaking of which, I better go encourage people to bid on these prizes. Will you be okay for a bit?”

“I guess,” Marinette said, her eyebrows drawn together, and lips pursed as the ball organiser appeared to drag Chat away.

It was probably the first event that he had gone to as Chat where he both simultaneously had all the time in the world to stay and wanted to leave more than anything.

These kinds of events were usually fun when he didn’t have to be Adrien. People wouldn’t have come to tonight’s ball unless they loved cats and it was full of his fans –the non-obsessed, creepy kind– so he had expected to spend all night making a huge amount of cat puns and taking turns dancing and laughing with people who were actually eager to see him.

But this was his first fundraiser for the sanctuary, and he had never brought a guest to anything before, so he had never had to worry about abandoning someone in favour of the fans. Ladybug had always said that they were meant to be superheroes first –not celebrities– so he had never even considered that she would want to attend this. He doubted she would ever agree to be his date to anything anyway, just because of the possible implications.

Not that Marinette was his date. He had invited her –yes– but he had just wanted to let her see the cool outfits and since she had already visited the cat sanctuary with him before, he thought she might like to see how the fundraiser worked. And then when he had discovered her working on the space-themed dress he had thought she knew already and had expected she was invited. God, he had felt like such an idiot when she had been surprised that he wanted her to come with him.

Continuing to feel guilty about how long he had left her alone, Chat made his way over to the table she was gently perched against, determined to spend more than ten minutes with her this time. Glancing at the stiff way she held herself, he wondered if her outfit was causing her more strife than she had let on before. It was a truly gorgeous dress, even if he hadn’t managed to secure anything in pink for her, but he would much prefer her to be comfortable no matter how good she looked.

He took in her appearance once again as he navigated the room and politely excused himself from the people who tried to pull him away once more. The upper half of her dress was a shade of scarlet, squaring off against her chest and collarbones where it changed direction and reached up towards her shoulders. The sleeves of the dress flowed from shoulders to her elbows, flaring out into the poet style of the time. The same soft material also curved out from her waist in twin semi-circles, which made their way around the dress and down, meeting to create the back of the skirt, which swished around her ankles as she walked. He marvelled at the black thread that had been embroidered onto the scarlet to create swirling pattern of roses and thorns, in a reverse of the traditional colours for such a flower. The remaining front panel of the dress was a deep burgundy colour, sweeping just as low as the back, but still allowing her button up, heeled boots to peep out from below. The black lace that trimmed the whole thing gave it an air of elegance that took his breath away.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he finally reached her table, “This is more demanding than I ever expected it to be. How are you doing over here?”

“I’m okay,” she said, “Feeling a little overdressed maybe? The dress might not be a corset, but it’s still pretty stiff.” She glanced fondly at one of the chairs next to her. “Every time I try to sit, the skirt flips up. I don’t want to flash everyone my underwear.”

Chat smothered a chuckle before she thought he was enjoying her suffering. “There’s a trick to it,” he told her, “Look.”

Pointing towards the other side of the hall discreetly, Chat directed her attention towards another of the ladies in a stiff, expensive-looking dress. Before sitting, the woman bent forward slightly, gently lifting the back of her dress to rest on the chair behind her and only then lowering herself.

“And exactly how was I meant to know that!?” she fumed.

After Chat had helped her seat herself comfortably and had once again politely discouraged the event organiser from dragging him off to see to more of the auction, he finally managed to partake in some relaxing time hanging out with Marinette. Of course, given her love of fashion, the talking finally made its way around to the evening’s attire.

“You know, if it wasn’t for the upturned shirt collar and the cravat, your suit would be virtually identical to a modern one,” she said, sipping her champagne carefully, “It’s surprising how well it fits you over your uniform.”

“Um, yeah,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck self-consciously, “It took some convincing Plagg, but he adjusted my suit so that I just have the basics; ears, tail and my mask. That way I can just get dressed like a normal person.” He glanced down at his ring, a stark black against the white dress gloves he wore. “It wears him out too much to switch back and forth all the time, so I’m stuck in full uniform at home.”

Having caught the direction of his eyes, Marinette reached out and gently grasped his hand in her own. “Well-” –Chat hoped she didn’t see how much his face was suddenly competing with her dress for the brightest colour at the table– “I think you look handsome in a waistcoat. As strange as it is seeing you in one, it really suits you.”

Chat’s mind was on autopilot when he smiled and thanked her.

She called me handsome. The only four words he could comprehend.

She called me handsome. Why was that so important?

She called me handsome. Of course, he knew why it was important.

“Maybe next year they can have everyone in masks. Then I won’t feel so out of place.” His blush-overrun face smiled, and it was full and completely natural; completely ecstatic. “And I won’t be so blinded by all you lovely ladies and your beauty that I forget my place.”

When Marinette became so flustered by his comment that she took back her hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she looked away from him to gaze at the dancers, he was overcome by such a swell of affection (and more) that he knew there was no denying how he felt any longer.

He had completely and utterly fallen for Marinette. Now he just had to decide if he was going to act on it or not.

“Let’s dance,” he said, standing and taking her hand to lead her to the dance floor, a relaxed confidence suddenly taking over him after his internal admittance.

Marinette, on the other hand, looked terrified. “But, er, it’s a kind of slow song,” she murmured, her teeth chewing on her lip in an unfairly endearing gesture.

Chat only shrugged in response before he positioned them amongst the swaying couples, taking her hand and guiding it to his shoulder before taking hold of her waist. He twirled her around softly, a much less perfected dance than he usually performed at galas he had attended out of uniform, but appropriate none-the-less.

A couple of women in store bought morning dresses moved too close and Marinette found herself bumped against Chat closer than before. The blush she had adorned earlier re-emerged at their new-found proximity and intensified further still when he took the opportunity to adjust her hands to around his neck, pulling her as close as he dared.

Her face was so close to his now; he could feel the little puffs of nervous breathing she was making against his lips. Eyes stared to close as he dropped his head ever so slightly, Chat leant towards her–

There was an instant touch of mayhem as the event organiser moved forward to announce the winners of the auction prizes. The woman reached for the microphone just as the heel on her boot caught in the slightly too long hem of her dress. The pressure on the dress was too much and the material tore, a loud snap sounding at the same time as the boot (a clear cheap knock from some larger brand) also struggled with the tension and the heel snapped instantly.

Chat and Marinette watched in horror as the woman tipped forward, the momentum causing her to grab for something –anything– to steady herself. There was a horrendous shriek as the microphone stand and the mic itself took the full force of her tumble; the speakers unable to cope with the sheer force of the way it hit the floor.

Marinette covered Chat’s oversensitive cat ears when she spotted him freeze and tremble in place, his jaw locked tight and revealing the sound caused him pain. She held on tight until the shrieking noise died away, looking up to see several other volunteers moving towards the woman and helping her to her uneven feet.

“Come on, Kitty,” she said, turning back to the still cowering Chat, “I think you need to go home.”

“Did you really feel out of place tonight?” Marinette asked, happy to be pyjama clad and removing her make-up with a cleansing pad instead of still in that stuffy dress. Chat listened from where he stood just in front of the dividing screen. He had removed his suit jacket and loosened his tie on autopilot, but remained in his shirt and waistcoat, something Marinette was trying very hard not to think about too much.

“Huh?” he asked her, mind snapping back from whatever thoughts he had been trapped in.

“Your mask.” She finished with her make-up and turned to face him, her mind swirling with all the recent talks she’d had with Tikki lately, whenever they had managed to sneak some free time together to discuss serious matters.

Walking over in a far braver and more casual looking demeanour than she felt, she reached up to touch the edge of his mask. “Do you ever wish you could just…take it off?”

“I can’t” he choked, sounding more disappointed than horrified by the suggestion.

“Why not?” she asked, “Don’t you trust me?”

“More than anything.”

His voice was so full of emotion, honesty seeping into each word that Marinette wasn’t sure her heart could take this much raw feeling projected directly at her.

“But Ladybug…” he sounded like he might sob at any given moment, “She’d be so mad at me.”

“No, I won’t Chaton. I’m asking after all.” She punctuated her words by pulling her loose hair back from in front of her ears, cupping the lobes to accentuate the earring posts embedded there.

His eyes widened. In fact, she was sure they widened to the point she thought she might be able to see a hint of white beyond the green after all.

“You…You’re…?”

She nodded; her lip trapped beneath her teeth again in anticipation of his reaction to her unexpected revelation.

“If you trust me – really trust me, and you trust Ladybug…Will you tell me why you can’t go home yet?”

There was the gasp she had expected a couple of sentences ago. As she watched, Chat shivered in place and tears began to sting his eyes. He shook his head sadly. “I, uh, can’t yet. It’s just…Not yet.”

She smiled sadly and reached up to pet his hair, one finger sliding up to the tip of his pointed cat ear as she tried to convey her understanding.

“But…I can…can, um, let you see…me,” he stammered.

And with a bright flash of green, Marinette laid eyes upon her crime-fighting partner, best male friend and roommate; Adrien Agreste.

Chapter Text

“Adrien?” she gasped, her hand slipping from his hair to brush against his cheek instead.

“Um, hi,” he breathed, frightened to raise his voice too loud in case he broke whatever enchantment they seemed to be under.

“But that means…” she trailed off, her soft, surprised look fading away quickly to be replaced by a hard, infuriated frown.

“How much will it cost me to stop you from running out right now and murdering my father?” he asked.

“Far more than the allowance mama and papa give you,” she said with a glare.

It was jarring how much things remained unchanged at home. Yes, home. Because that was exactly how he had been thinking of Marinette’s house for a while now.

They had confidently agreed that neither one of them was ready for her parents to know the opposite sides of their masks yet; the last he seemed to have seen of confident Marinette in a few days now, in fact.

“Okay, there’s no way the two of you ganging up on me is fair,” Tom complained as he pounded his thumbs against the controller in his hands with a pout.

“There’s no fair in video-games, Papa,” Marinette told him, briefly removing one hand from the controller to offer Chat a fist bump before returning immediately, refusing her father even a second of mercy, and definitely not thinking about how Chat had tried to hold on after she had pulled away.

Adrien wrinkled his nose at her words. “I still don’t need an allowance, you know.”

“Sure, you don’t. You just flutter your eyelashes and waitresses just give you your lunch for free,” she countered, remembering now how Adrien had emptied his pockets to come up with enough change for a sandwich the other day. She had just assumed he had left his wallet at home.

“They might, you don’t know,” he blushed, “Ladies love a black kitty. I seem to remember someone telling me that black kittens are their favourite.”

He winked at her.

“Hmm, not cool, son. I thought we were friends,” Tom said after his third defeat of the night.

“Sorry, Tom,” Chat replied with a grin, “But if the princess requests aid, I must deliver.”

Marinette prayed her dad didn’t sit forward in his seat, because if he did, he would certainly see how warm her face had gotten. She stood up as she caught sight of him beginning to move from the corner of her eye, under the pretence of fetching herself a drink, and stumbled when she felt a clawed hand on her shoulder unexpectedly.

“Hey, I was thinking we could watch a movie tonight,” Chat said, oblivious to her flushed face - or at least doing well at pretending he didn’t see it.

“S-Sure,” she answered, keeping her eyes trained strategically on the apple juice she was pouring and absolutely refusing to focus on him or her dad, “Anything in particular?”

“Well, there’s a Lucy Liu marathon on tonight. Fancy it?”

“Urgh. I hate her.” She pulled a face and rolled her eyes.

“What?” he asked, turning to look at Tom in disbelief, who only laughed in response, “Why?”

“She can pull off freckles when I can’t. It’s not fair.”

“Don’t be silly,” he said, leaning in extremely close without warning, until his nose was almost touching her own, “Your freckles are absolutely breath-taking.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yup! Sure! Yeah! Just…suddenly replaying everything that I ever said or did around Chat and realising I did it around you - Adrien!”

“Uh, okay? Is…that bad?”

“OhmyGod!” she squeaked, ignoring his question, “Everything Chat’s ever said was coming from you!”

“Well then,” Tom said with a hidden chuckle amongst the words, “Some of us have to be up early tomorrow, so I guess I’ll leave you kids to it.”

“’Night, Papa,” Marinette murmured from her place at the kitchen counter, intent to keep her face hidden until well after the colour had faded from her cheeks.

“Maybe skip the Lucy Liu tonight, son,” he told Chat as he walked through the door, “Just stick with a rom-com or something instead.” Marinette pretended not to see the wink he sent Chat before closing the door completely.

They both stood there in silence for several minutes; Marinette intently studying her glass while Chat watched the door, his black ears flicking as he seemed to pick up on minuscule noises her own ears couldn’t hear.

“I think he just got into bed,” he said suddenly, “What are the chances he’ll get up again, or should I wait until he falls asleep too?”

“He’s down for now,” she answered, finally trusting her traitorous blood vessels enough to turn and face him again, “It’s safe.”

Adrien let out a huge sigh as he detransformed, as if the act of staying in uniform took its toll on him, as well as Plagg. The kwami himself phased into the fridge briefly before the door flung wide and he emerged with a huge wedge of cheese

“I am going to eat this on your bed, and you can’t stop me,” he told his chosen.

Smiling, Adrien waved the back of his hand at him as a dismissal. “Just don’t get crumbs in the sheets,” he said, “or I’ll make sure we’re mysteriously out of any unprocessed dairy next time.”

Deciding to disappear with a grump, Plagg went off in search of Tikki in the loudest way possible, the room full of tuts and huffs until he finally made his way through the open trapdoor.

“You were there when I asked you to protect me from Evillustrator!”

“Well, yeah. Obviously. But-”

“Argh! You jumped off a building when your bodyguard was akumatized!”

“Well, to be fair, you told me to.”

“I don’t know if my heart can take much more of these realisations, Adrien!”

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked her, and Marinette’s head snapped up, brain fog dissipating enough for her to realise he had been speaking to her, while she stared blankly.

“Sorry,” she said, her lips wearing a soft smile as she suddenly found the strength to make herself relax.

This was Adrien. This was Chat. This was her roommate. Her partner. Her friend. This boy meant the world to her, regardless of which side of the mask he was on.

“I was miles away,” she said with a gentle shake of her head. “Are we putting on this movie or what?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have shown you who I am. You don’t seem to be taking it very well.”

“What! Me? Noooo!” Marinette said, a little louder than was strictly safe if she didn’t want to alert her parents. Drawing on all her courage reserves she took a long, deep breath, turning to look at Adrien when she had done.

“I’m just adjusting to the idea that the boy who has been fighting akumas with me and sharing my room, is also a boy I…go to school with.”

“But, does that matter? I thought you liked me. We’re friends at school, aren’t we?”

Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger and let out a deep sigh.

“Yes, I l-like you,” she said, proud of herself for only stuttering once, considering the potential double meaning behind her words.

She glanced up to see how he had reacted. Despite her admittance, his face was pained. Hopeful, certainly, but he was preparing to be disappointed and emotionally injured just in case she devastated him.

“And don’t you like Chat?” he asked in a choked tone.

Marinette swallowed roughly, her throat feeling drier than it had twenty minutes ago.

“Yes, kitty,” she said, a sudden realisation flowing over her, “I like Chat too.”

Chapter Text

“You know, I never thought I’d be glad to see an akuma,” Marinette said, sprawled out on her chaise, freshly moved from the wall in the corner to rest against the divider screen.

“Yeah, it’s…been a while,” Chat muttered, huffing in frustration as he couldn’t seem to get the desks positioned together in their original alignment.

Marinette watched him for a moment or two, a look of dazed amusement alighting her features as he determined they were as good as they were ever going to get. “What made you decide the desk would be handier over my side again?”

“Dunno,” Chat lied, “I guess I just figured that now we know, I’ll probably be doing homework with you instead of trying to hide it. I’d much rather spend the time with you than try to figure out fractals on my own anyway.” He smiled –a quiet, soft one that wasn’t mean to impress or tease– but it made Marinette blush regardless.

“Uh, yeah. But why is it so important to do it now?” she asked, eyes cast down at the rug to avoid making eye contact and exacerbating her hastily reddening face.

“Uh, no reason.”

Marinette frowned for a moment. Something was off with the way he said that. She hated that she couldn’t pin-point an exact issue and she wasn’t entirely sure what it was that was wrong, but there was clearly more to what he was saying. She glanced up and did her best to send him a suspicious glare.

“Marinette! Chat! Dinner!” Sabine yelled from the floor below, interrupting Marinette’s wary thoughts.

Getting up from the chaise, she stretched widely, a yawn succeeding in disrupting what was left of her logical processing and suspicions. “Come on, Kitty,” she said.

“Uh, I’ll be right there,” he said, “I’ve gotta grab something first.”

When all she did was stare at him with narrowed eyes, Chat moved over to his side of the screen, moving things about noisily to give the impression he was looking for something. It took a moment, but he sighed in relief when he heard footsteps moving downstairs and the trapdoor finally closing.

Peeking around the screen to be sure, Chat crept out silently, glancing at the desk, then the skylight and the desk again. Watching the trapdoor carefully, he snuck over to the desk, unzipping one of his magical pockets and removing an envelope that, by all rights should have been too large to fit into it. Placing the letter upright against the computer keyboard, he glanced around the room wistfully.

His disappearance through the skylight was silent.

“Chat?” Marinette shouted sharply before her head appeared through the trapdoor, “Whatever you’re looking for will have to wait, the food is going cold, and you know we don’t like to eat without you.”

Rising up into the room, Marinette quickly noticed Chat’s absence. It also seemed too quiet for him to just be out of sight –unless he was trying to be stealthy on purpose; he was really good at that.

“Chat?” she tried again as she stuck her head around the side of the screen, desperately hoping he was dressed for her own sanity’s sake.

It finally sunk in that he wasn’t here and Marinette’s sudden panic became a fully-grown monster in her chest, clawing its way up her throat and threatening to make her scream. She spun around to reach for the chaise, barely missing it as she stumbled and continuing on unsteadily until she collapsed in one of the desk chairs instead.

The chair span with her momentum and it echoed the spinning of her mind, desperately replaying their last interaction. She had known something was up. Why didn’t she force the issue more?

Oh God, she realised, he moved the furniture back to the way it was before. He couldn’t do anything about the bed or screens without giving anything away, but he had tried his best to put her room back to the way it had been before he had moved in.

He was gone. Really gone. Where? Back to Gabriel? Surely not, when he was so obviously terrified of being around him. But then where?

She raised her head and her eye alighted on the crisp, white envelope resting against her keyboard. Her name was looped on the front in elegant cursive letters. Adrien’s handwriting.

She tore it open like starving man ripping through the packaging on food, gasping as she read his words to her:

My Miraculous Marinette,

Most of our secrets are out of the way now, but I’m afraid I’ve been keeping the biggest one to myself for a while. I’m sure you’d work it out, given enough time, but I need to deal with this now.

My father is Hawkmoth.

I saw him talking with his kwami and ran before he had time to stop me. I managed to blackmail him into not coming after me, and I guess he was too frightened of me telling someone to release an akuma for a while. But as today showed, it hasn’t lasted.

I’m so very grateful to you and to your mom and dad for taking me in. I honestly have no idea what I would have done without you. I love that your parents treat me like family and all the effort they’ve put into making me feel at home here. I’m also grateful to you all for your patience and for not forcing me to talk before I was ready. I’ve never really had that before. Even my mom used to insist I told her what was wrong so she could try to fix it and father –Gabriel– I’m not sure he even cares anymore.

It’s been a long few months, but in the best possible way, because I got to know you better. Living in your room has made it kind of up close and personal, and I loved every second of it. I’m not sure if you realised what almost happened at the fundraiser during our dance, but if you did, please know it was completely heartfelt and not just being caught up in the moment. At that moment it was all about you, Marinette. And I know you know how I feel about Ladybug.

I have to face my father. There might still be a way to reason with him, and if not, I’m not sure I could handle having to watch either of you fight one another.

Don’t follow me home. I’ll deal with this. I promise.

Love,

Your Kitty forever, Adrien x

Chapter Text

“Bonsoir, Monsieur Agreste.”

Gabriel startled from his doze at his desk. He’d had far too many late nights recently and –stubborn as ever– had refused to do the sensible thing and just go to bed when he had found himself drifting. That had to be the reason he hadn’t sensed anyone approaching or picked up any lingering emotions until now, he reassured himself.

He looked up at the youngster leaning against the wall next to his window. “Chat Noir?” he asked, almost overwhelmed by the sheer force of the anger radiating from the boy, which was tinged with the strangest hint of sorrow.

The young hero uncrossed his arms and pushed off from the wall, stalking his way over to the man who was attempting to regain some of his lost dignity by sitting upright in front of him, straightening his clothes as he did so.

“Can I help you?” he asked coldly, “I don’t usually see people without an appointment.”

Of all the things he could’ve said, thought Chat, his chest bubbling into a painful scorch. There was no point in dragging things out now, he decided. It was time to force his father to confess to what he had done. He really didn’t want to give Marinette time to realise what he was doing and follow him.

“People got hurt today,” he said plainly.

“I’m sorry?” Gabriel replied, his eyebrows raised and his confusion evident in the tone he used.

“But are you?” Chat said with a snarl, “After all, you’ll just send another akuma at the first opportunity. Won’t you?”

“I-”

Chat caught the brief flash of fear that flitted across his father’s face. He schooled it quickly, but Adrien had grown up learning how to read his father in a flash, eager to give the man what he wanted with only a second’s notice of what that might be. He had caught the tell-tale signs in his expression within a fraction of a second.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“I’m sure you don’t. I’d like to talk to your son.”

Chat smirked when Gabriel’s eyes widened, knowing he had the upper hand now. Considering he wasn’t here as himself, it would leave the man with no choice. He would have to admit he wasn’t at home and leave him open to questioning.

“He’s studying in his room. He can’t be disturbed.”

“That’s okay. It won’t take long.”

“Actually, he’s been quite unwell lately. He may even be asleep.”

The teenager’s patience was starting to wear thin and he gritted his teeth, his smirk twisting into a grimace. “Now, those are lies and we both know it,” he said, “Why not just come clean?”

That seemed to be all Gabriel needed to finally drop his innocent façade and his eyes narrowed, defensive and cold. “You’ve already spoken to Adrien.”

“Clearly.”

“I knew I should have hired better people to watch him,” the older man sighed, letting his head fall forward so he could pinch the bridge of his nose, “I have no idea how he manages to just disappear after school finishes.”

Chat felt the fire in his chest burn brighter. He’d been warned to keep his distance and still his father had been having him followed. Who knows what might have happened if he hadn’t told him about his auto-queued email? Would his goons have just snatched Adrien right out of his classroom, in front of all his friends and brought him back to the man?

He watched as Gabriel’s eyes opened as if he was reacting to something, and he looked up at Chat as his hand fell away from his face. “You seem much angrier than I would have anticipated, even considering what you’ve learned,” he said, his eyes glancing back to the window as if looking for something, “And where is Ladybug?”

“I’d like to leave my Lady out of this. I’ve got a particular issue with parents who treat their kids badly, so I’d rather handle this one alone.”

The eye roll Gabriel gave did nothing for Chat’s temperament and he suppressed a growl as best he could. The man seemed far too calm for his liking.

“I do not treat my son badly,” the older man said haughtily, “I’m simply protective of him from outside influences. My wife and I agreed to keep him from all the potential dangers we could. Considering the way you’re trying to protect Ladybug, surely you can understand.”

At that moment, Chat was nothing more than white hot rage inside. He slammed his hands against the pristine desk so hard he left indents in it where his claws dug in. He relished the feel of the cool surface, allowing it to act as a balm against the painful heat creeping from his chest and into all of his extremities.

“I am nothing like you,” he hissed threateningly - his eyes narrowed, pupils like slits as he glared at the man in front of him, “You constantly disappoint Adrien and keep him at arm’s length. At least your wife spent time with him.”

Amongst the odd cocktail of emotions coming from the boy, rage and anger were still the most prevalent among them, but Gabriel also felt the sudden fear and disgust towards what he’d said. And when the boy had mentioned Emilie there had been a huge spike in…in what? Sorrow? Longing?

Grief.

The logical side of Gabriel’s mind kicked in as he comprehended and everything began to make sense to him again.

“Adrien,” he said, “Would you like to see your mother?”

“Marinette, did you tell him to-” Tom cut off abruptly –head poking out of the trapdoor entrance– as he caught sight of his daughter sitting at her desk, tears streaming down her face and onto the slip of paper in her hands.

“Honey!” he shouted down to his wife, quickly finishing his ascent into the room and over towards the distraught girl. He knelt down in front of her, his eyes quickly scanning her person, assessing for any signs of injury. Finding nothing wrong, he looked around the room instead, noticing the recent rearrangement of the furniture and the distinct lack of the teenage boy she had come upstairs to collect.

“Oh! Marinette, sweetheart!” Sabine cooed as she too made her way over, dropping into the second chair beside the first and stroking the girl’s hair, “What’s wrong?”

“Where’s Chat?” Tom asked carefully and watched as Sabine’s head shot up and made the same sweep of the room he had already completed, and probably coming to the same conclusion.

Marinette only wept harder at the sound of the boy’s name, dropping her head onto Sabine’s shoulder and openly wailing for a moment.

“He’s…he’s gone to face his father,” she finally said between sobs a few moments later.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Sabine began in a soothing tone, “Maybe…it’s for the best. We never knew exactly what was wrong at home for him. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought? And he’s thought of something he can do to fix things?” Despite her optimistic words, she glanced up at Tom and gave him a knowing look, her eyes wide, but fiery.

The look was something the two of them had often joked about with Marinette, especially when she had been smaller, and the girl had dubbed it ‘Parental telepathy.’ She had found it amazing how it seemed her parents could have an entire conversation and come to an agreement on something relating to her with nothing except a look or two between them. Sabine was counting on Tom to understand that it absolutely was not a good thing Chat had gone back home and that they would tear Paris apart if they had to in order to find that boy and keep him safe. She simply didn’t want to alarm the girl in her arms.

“No,” snivelled Marinette, head shaking furiously, “There’s no way Gabriel will listen.”

“Gabriel?” Tom said, confused. His eyes glanced back to the paper in her clenched fists, finally recognising that it was more than just a brief note. From the looks of things, Chat had written her a full-page letter. “Honey, did Chat tell you something? Do you know where he went?”

Sniffling a little, Marinette pulled away from her mother slowly, sitting upright in her seat. She looked down at her lap before hesitantly looking at first Tom, then Sabine.

“Mama, papa, there are some things I need to tell you.”

Chapter Text

Chat glanced between his mother and his own tortured reflection in the glass of the coffin- no, not a coffin– the chamber his father had installed down here for her. “She’s been here the whole time?” he asked, his claws reaching out delicately to press against the transparent barrier separating them.

“I couldn’t risk a hospital. If they tried to help, they might have made things worse. Magic and medicine don’t work well together.”

Chat let his hand fall and turned to face the man, a blazing hatred, glowing in his cat-like eyes. “So, you let us all think she might be dead out there somewhere instead?”

“I had a lead on how to make her well again. I didn’t expect to take so long to track it down.” He took his gaze from the disgruntled teenager in front of him and looked down to where his fingers had drifted to fidget with his cravat. “And then I found that it was just another lead to the final solution.”

“The Miraculous.” Chat glanced down at the ring on his finger, cupping his free hand over it as he pulled it in towards his chest protectively. “You think they can make her well again.”

“They can. If the Ladybug earrings are paired with your ring, the one who holds them both can ask for any wish. There are no restrictions on what they can accomplish.”

“What about the kwami’s?” Chat asked with a raised eyebrow, his head tilting inquisitively, “What happens to them?”

“What makes you think anything would happen to them?” Gabriel asked in confusion.

“There’s always a price with this stuff.” Chat’s thoughts drifted back to the fridge in his room here at the mansion, and to the overwhelming amount of cheese he had packed into the Dupain-Chengs fridge without a single complaint from them. “The kwami’s need to eat to maintain enough energy for a normal transformation. But a wish would take far more energy than usual.”

Plagg had often told him that he had to eat to survive while he was active, even if he was immortal by most standards. Despite his kwami’s greedy tendencies, Adrien was inclined to believe he had only ever exaggerated that fact in order to gain more Camembert, but never outright lied about it. He wondered what Plagg would tell him about this wish business if he asked, but he hadn’t brought any of the foul stuff with him –and he really didn’t like the idea of being untransformed and helpless around his f-around Gabriel just so he could get advice from the little creature who never left his side.

“Wait a minute,” he said, expression hardening again, “Where’s your kwami? What do they have to say about all of this?”

Gabriel’s mouth narrowed into a thin line, his hands slipping behind his back in a position Chat recognised as meaning he was irritated, and that the discussion was ending - on his own terms.

“Nooroo cannot intentionally show himself to anyone except for me. I have also ordered him not to try to communicate with anyone else either. Surely you’ve given your own kwami some kind of similar order?”

“He’s a person!” Chat shouted, “I ask him to stay out of sight, but I don’t own him! I don’t order him around. Anyone who does…”

He’d never thought he was capable of outright hating someone before, especially his own flesh and blood, but Adrien was quickly coming to a horrifying discovery he could no longer wilfully ignore.

“You’re a monster,” he said, unable to help himself from voicing it aloud, “You don’t care about anyone except yourself and what you want. This isn’t about mom! It’s never been about mom! It’s about the fact that you want mom to come back. If you suddenly wanted something else more, you’d leave her like this forever!”

“Adrien-”

“No! You listen here. I will never, never give you my ring. And I’ll never let you hurt my Lady.”

“She’s just a girl Adrien!” Gabriel snarled, lurching towards him so quickly Chat had to leap on top of his mother’s chamber to avoid him, “Start thinking about your family instead of your hormones for a change!”

The boy hissed in response, pure cat-like instincts reacting to the threat before him and watched as the last of the reason left Gabriel’s eyes, as the man realised there was no way to make his son side with him.

“Nooroo, Dark Wings Rise!”

Drawing a sabre from his cane, Hawkmoth began to advance on Chat’s perch atop the chamber, a cold indifference to him on his masked face. The atmosphere was thick and electric, both super-powered beings looking for an opening and waiting for the other to strike.

The sound of the doorbell echoed throughout the room.

Chat’s expression softened into one of bemused confusion as his eyes flitted around the room, looking for the source of the noise down here. The bell rang again three times in quick succession as he spotted the wall mounted speaker behind him, next to the large tinted window.

Chat’s jaw dropped open in disbelief. The advanced intercom system Gabriel had ordered for his home was a needlessly complex one, which used infrared to determine where those in the mansion were and played the doorbell sound from the speakers closest to them. It was supposed to be so that Gabriel could use the security system to mark himself as busy when Nathalie was around to deal with distractions for him, but continue to be alerted when she went home for the night.

“You installed that down here!?” Chat said bewilderingly.

Glaring at the gobsmacked hero carefully, Hawkmoth backed off a little to access a panel Chat hadn’t noticed before, tapping away at hidden controls and glancing between it and the boy every few seconds as the doorbell continued to noisily distort the previous silence uncomfortably.

“Quiet! Unless you want to put the person at the door into unnecessary danger.” The villain pressed one of the buttons on the console. “Yes?” he said, looking at something on the screen in front of him that Chat couldn’t see from his current angle.

“Oh hello!” said a familiar voice and green eyes widened in surprise and worry for the small Chinese woman who should not have been anywhere near here right now. “Maybe you remember me, I’m Marinette’s mother - Sabine. I hope you can help me. Marinette’s gone missing and I was wondering if you or Adrien have seen her?”

“No, we have not,” he snapped curtly, “I’m afraid I’m very busy right now so-”

His voice cut off suddenly as a large man appeared out of the shadows of the room to his right and tackled him off his feet. Despite his size, Tom Dupain was easily thrown across the room as Hawkmoth regained his senses almost immediately and Chat Noir found himself jumping down from his spot to stand in front of the large man protectively, Hawkmoth brandishing his sabre at them.

Marinette’s parents had come to help; to try to save him. It was insanely foolish. Hawkmoth was too powerful with his super-strength and his natural fencing skills to rely on. But still, they had been worried enough to race straight in without fretting about their own well-being. They didn’t care if they could help or not; they just knew they had to try.

He might have let out a laugh of joy – if it hadn’t been the worst time ever. Now not only did he have to try and take down his f- this man, this villain, he had to do it whilst also protecting his sort-of adoptive parents. His found family.

“Is this who you’ve been staying with?” Hawkmoth spat, “A baker and his family? You stupid child, did you really think they could protect-”

For the second time in the space of a few minutes, Hawkmoth was cut off abruptly as Ladybug burst through the tinted glass panel behind where his mother lay, a shower of glass shards erupting into the room as she swung her yo-yo directly at the villain’s head.

Chapter Text

“Oh my God. You knocked him out with one hit,” Chat said in shock, mouth gaping.

Ladybug wrinkled her nose as she glanced down at her unconscious arch-nemesis. “I know. It was…really anticlimactic,” she said, bending down to pluck the butterfly brooch from his purple suit, which transformed into a white one the moment it was removed from his body.

“What now?” Chat asked.

“Now, you kids call the police,” Tom said, “Get them down here. Let them see Adrien’s mother and get her to a hospital. Show them the butterfly miraculous. Do whatever you need to – but get back home right after. They’ll want to speak to Adrien soon enough and he needs to be available, so no one believes Gabriel if he tries to give up your identity.”

Chat’s eyes snapped up to meet Tom’s as he realised the implications of his words.

“We’ll be your alibi, son. You’ve been at our house all evening. But only if you’re actually there when the police show up.”

Marinette popped her head up through the skylight window.

“Hey,” she said, “we need to be out early on Wednesday so the men can start work…on…um, Adrien?”

She waited for a response from the transformed boy perched on the balcony railing, but he remained silent, searching out at some point beyond the skyline with glazed eyes. She carefully pulled herself the rest of the way up and nervously tip-toed over to him.

It wasn’t until she leant her folded arms against the railing beside him that he seemed to come to, the vibrations through the metal bringing him back to awareness. He glanced down at her, eyes widening as he seemed surprised by her sudden appearance. “Marinette!” he said, “How long have you been here? Were you saying something?”

She smiled at him and shrugged her shoulders a little. “Just that the workmen start on Wednesday, so we need to be out of everyone’s hair earlier than usual.”

Chat’s upper lip curled in annoyance. “I hate the idea of having to move downstairs,” he said with a pout.

“Yeah…well, it’s that or that woman from ASE comes back and takes you away to your aunt’s in Lyon,” Marinette said sadly, “Downstairs is definitely closer.”

Mme Kindern pushed aside the main divider screen as she inspected the set-up of the attic room. She looked positively scandalised at the idea of a teen boy and girl sharing a living space.

“I simply cannot authorise an extended stay for Adrien if he doesn’t have his own room here,” the Aide sociale à l’enfance officer told Tom and Sabine as she made another note on her clipboard.

“What if we could get him his own room?” Sabine begged, stepping around to put herself back into the woman’s direct line of sight, “We could make one. It just wouldn’t be right away,”

“Make him a room? I’m afraid I don’t understand Mrs Cheng.”

“No, no, my wife’s right,” Tom said, looking at Sabine with undisguised awe, “The storage room for the bakery’s ingredients has an extremely high ceiling. It reaches from the ground floor all the way up to the same height as our first floor.”

“We talked about having work done to have new support beams and a floor put in before. We even had an architect work out the details. The only reason we didn’t do it-” –Sabine chewed her lip nervously– “-is because it’s expensive and we didn’t really have an urgent need for it at the time.”

“But you would be willing to go to the expense in order to foster Adrien?” Mme Kindern raised an eyebrow at the smaller woman who nodded her head earnestly.

“We’d do anything to make sure that boy gets to stay somewhere safe and familiar,” Tom said.

“And you’re familiar because-” –she glanced at her clipboard– “-he’s friends with your daughter?”

“Yes.”

 “And he ‘sleeps over’ here a lot,” she said with a pointed glance at the three-quarter bed by the window, “Even though he claimed at his assessment that his father doesn’t let him see friends very often.”

Tom lowered his eyes bashfully. “Well, in our defence, we didn’t know he was sneaking out to do that. We cleared it with his father the first couple of times and trusted his word after that.”

“I see.”

It felt like an eternity that the woman stared at the couple. Eventually though, her stony exterior crumbled and she smiled warmly at them. “I’ll need some kind of proof that work is being arranged as quickly as you can provide it. And I still don’t like these living arrangements. I’ll need to check in with him and your daughter to ensure neither of them is uncomfortable. Or in case they’re a little too comfortable with it as well, I suppose.”

“Is there a reason you’re Chat Noir and not Adrien right now?” Marinette asked, breaking her kitty from the numbing fog that had begun to settle over his mind once again.

He sighed heavily. “Other than the fact that the press will work out where I’m staying soon and flood the street? This might be my last chance to be transformed on the balcony for a while,” he said, “It’s a miracle my genetic donor hasn’t told anyone who I am, and I don’t want to mess it up for myself if he plans on staying quiet.”

Marinette heard the bitter tone in his voice. She also noticed he was trying out another way of referring to Gabriel again. So far, he had used a total of seven different nicknames for him – including one which Sabine had overheard and severely scolded him on, considering the use of colourful language. Marinette had found that her favourite was ‘The Emotional Un-provider’ as Adrien’s poor excuse for a father had done everything in his power to give Adrien anything material that he wanted whilst simultaneously denying him anything that met his actual need for a loving parent or social interaction.

As much as she knew his identity was a delicate subject right now (hers was too now that her mama and papa were completely aware of who they both were and were insisting on speaking to Master Fu as soon as possible) she could tell that there was still more to this than what he had told her.

“Spill it, Kitty,” she said, nudging him a little with her elbow as her eyes rolled, “I know you too well now. Why else are you transformed?”

Chat’s ears drooped close to his head and he glanced at her from the corner of his eye quickly before lowering his gaze to examine the street below them. Marinette was hard pressed to determine whether it was because he was upset or ashamed. It almost seemed like both.

Taking a deep breath, Chat turned his head to look her in the eye as he spoke. “I really don’t want to be an Agreste right now,” he admitted uncomfortably.

Marinette’s face instantly relaxed in understanding, only a slight wrinkle between her eyebrows showing her concern. She shuffled towards him a little more, her arm lifting from the railing to tightly wind around his waist in a half-hug. She used him for balance as she stepped up onto tiptoes to rest her forehead against a shoulder much higher than her own.

“You don’t have to be with us. You know that, right? You can just be Adrien.” Her head ducked shyly as he gave her a warm smile. “Besides, you’re pretty much a Dupain-Cheng now anyway.”

His smile turned mischievous and she froze against him at the sight, desperately trying to predict what he might say or do.

“You know,” he smirked, leaning his face down close to her own, gleefully noting the heat creeping  across her skin as his nose touched against her own, “If you’re asking me to marry you, I’m gonna need to see a ring first.”

He might have regretted the comment –but not the intent behind it– when she shoved him off the building with an embarrassed squeak.

Chapter Text

Marinette’s nerves were rattled.

She groaned as she massaged her temples to try and alleviate the awful headache thumping away inside her skull, taking a deep breath of fresh, relatively cool air. She had come up to the balcony to try and escape the noise of the workers downstairs, but it was also a pleasant relief from the overwhelming heat of having so many bodies packed into such a small space below her.

The bakery had always been hot for as long as she could remember, the industrial-sized ovens giving off enough warmth that they rarely had to pay for heating, even in the winter. That had just been something she had grown up with and gotten used to over the years, but now there was always a steady flow of workmen and women inside, coming and going as different specialities were needed for specific jobs.

To make matters worse, the bakery’s kitchen was tight on space, as all the ingredients usually stored in the back were now heaped up on top of one another and across multiple surfaces which they usually used for preparation. Her poor father was working in the back permanently as he tried desperately to keep up with orders, despite having less than half of his usual workspace to use.

And the unexpected twist no one had seen coming was a boom in business. Since most of the goods were being freshly baked throughout the day instead of first thing in the morning and at noon, and since the customers were far enough away from the noise made by the hammers and drills, the additional bodies were often lining up outside the building waiting for their turn to be served – adding to the unbearable body heat rising up into the apartment above.

Closing her eyes and exhaling slowly, Marinette decided that she might as well do something useful while she was up here. Looking towards her line of plants within their terracotta pots, she determined that they must be suffering the same fate as herself; they were overheating and dehydrated.

Grabbing the old, battered watering can she always left up on the balcony and noting with relief that it still had plenty of water inside, she set about giving each of her parched, leafy babies a drink. As she let just the right amount of water drip into each plant pot, also wetting each leaf a little with her spray bottle as she went, she considered whether she should feel jealous that Adrien had escaped for the day or not. Ultimately, she decided that she probably wasn’t being fair to him.

The police were once again speaking with him and her mother had accompanied him, along with Mme Kindern from the AES, as a child advocate. As much as she liked the idea of getting out of the building, she knew the constant talks with police officers prying into his home life wasn’t something he enjoyed. She would spare him any further dealings with his father’s case if she could.

Her mind wandered from Adrien’s whereabouts to other thoughts of him. Twenty-four days. Twenty-four days since Chat had revealed himself to be Adrien. Twenty-four days since she had realised that she’d been living with her crush for months. Sharing a bedroom with her crush for months.

Twenty-four days since it had occurred to her that, even before she’d known they were one and the same, she had already been crushing on the person she lived with. Being in close proximity with Chat daily had somehow managed to change the way she felt about him. She had already cared about him, and she had thought he was cute - against her better judgement, but whenever he had flirted or acted cocky in the past, it had just reminded her that he wasn’t her type. She much preferred someone with a softer approach, she had thought, someone sweet and honest who wasn’t afraid to be serious and vulnerable in front of her. And while she had seen snippets of that in Chat before, they had been more outlining moments - since she only had about (at most) an hour to spend with him at a time.

But as her roommate, Chat had been much more relaxed around her. She’d seen him cry and worry over his home situation. His silly side was much more adorably dorky than irritatingly over-the-top as she used to think. And before they had shown each other who they were, he had never flirted with her – at least, not in any way she had recognised as flirting. She wasn’t entirely sure anymore whether some of his more complimentary comments had been meant more as a way to show he had noticed her. Because…the charity ball…

Chat –Adrien– had tried to kiss her before she had told him that she was Ladybug. He had clearly written down his very real feelings in his letter to her. And now that they were open about their identities, he’d returned to flirting with her. His joke last weekend about getting engaged and taking her last name had been a step further than she had ever expected from Adrien. Just when she thought she was getting the hang of his dual identity; he had managed to throw her for a loop.

Distracted, Marinette pulled her dented watering can back from the lip of one of the pots a little too harshly and gasped as it wobbled in place on the edge of the brick wall. She reached for it, but the can was still in her hand and she instinctively held tight to it, to avoid spilling the water inside. So, she was forced instead to watch as the extremely breakable terracotta pot, with the fragile spiky plant inside tipped over the edge and fell from her balcony.

She put the can down as quickly as she could manage, sloshing a patch of water onto the concrete beneath her feet as she did so. Just as she was preparing to lean over the wall to get an idea of the kind of damage that she was dealing with spread out on the street below her, the top of the spider plant mysteriously appeared, ascending upward from behind the wall. The plant was immediately followed by the pot, which in turn was held aloft by a dark, clawed hand.

Marinette watched as the very distraction which had caused her to knock the plant over emerged from behind the wall, balancing with one hand on his extended baton, both feet planted firmly against it until he jumped over to land in front of her on the balcony. She stepped back to give him space as he gave a low bow, offering the rescued plant with a flourish.

“Usually it’s Princesses I rescue from towers, not their, um, companions?” he said, an amused smile on his face as he considered how to refer to the thing he held in his hand.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the offered item with a small blush and moving around him to carefully place it back on the wall, a bit closer to the centre this time.

“So, what did it say to you, for you to push it off the balcony?” he asked with a chuckle, “Don’t tell me it wants to marry you too, does it? Because I’m not sure how I would go about fighting a plant for your hand.” He emphasised his words by dropping to one knee and kissing the back of the said hand.

On pure Ladybug instinct alone, Marinette raised her spray bottle to his face and pulled the trigger.  A look of complete horror passed across her features when she heard him yowl and realised what she had done.

Or rather, done again.

Chapter Text

Ladybug released her yo-yo string, somersaulting in mid-air before dropping to the concrete below. Her transformation melted away as she landed, Tikki spinning out of her earring with a giggle that was bound to haunt her for a few days.

“Your face is almost the same colour as me!” the little red bug squealed in joy, tiny arms coming up to cover her mouth.

“Tikki! Shh!” Marinette squeaked, mortified, “He’s right behind us. He’ll hear you!”

If she had thought Chat’s flirting had been the most difficult thing to try coping with before, she had seriously underestimated the rest of the people in her life.

She had even stupidly thought school was going to be a relief from the constant barrage of pick-up lines.

Instead, she had found that school was a daily test of her ability to fight down her traitorous blood supply from flooding her cheeks with colour – as Adrien seemed determined to spend as much time as possible in her company. Alya was merciless in her ribbing about it, keeping it relatively low-key while he was around before completely tormenting her once he disappeared for so much as a second. It also hadn’t helped that in the lead up to their reveal, Marinette had been non-the-wiser to the boy’s sudden burst of interest in being around her – which Alya now thought had all been for show.

“I still don’t get why you didn’t just tell me he was sneaking out to spend the night at your place regularly,” she had said yesterday, “I would’ve happily listened to you scream with joy.” Marinette reddened even further as she remembered how she had been awkwardly balancing Alya’s teasing with keeping Adrien out of earshot without accidentally upsetting him by keeping her distance. A fact Alya was taking great pleasure in exploiting, knowing if she spoke low enough, Marinette wouldn’t be able to retaliate without him realising something was up. “I could’ve even clued you in sooner that he’d started crushing on you.”

Because it made sense to her best friend (and from the knowing looks thrown her way, Nino too) that Adrien would’ve picked the girl he liked when he started acting rebelliously towards his father and snuck out to visit a girl. At night. In her bedroom.

Especially given Adrien’s newfound style of flirting with her – in front of everyone. It was a more reserved form compared to Chat’s usual bravado and she had uncomfortably discovered that it both exhilarated her and turned her insides into jelly. The death glares she received from Chloe and Lila certainly hadn’t helped her to relax either. But then neither had the shrewd glances from her classmates, and other friends around school, whenever Adrien referred to the bakery as home.

And really, why else would the Dupain-Chengs have wanted to foster Adrien instantly after the news of his father’s villainy broke, unless he had already been a constant addition to their lives? There had been no logical way to explain and still hide her status as sleepover friend from anyone who knew them – at least not without creating a hundred difficult questions she couldn’t exactly answer without endangering their own identities.

“I’m pretty certain your parents and Master Fu have already said much worse in front him tonight than I ever could,” Tikki chuckled, bringing Marinette back to the moment. She groaned, hiding her face in her hands at the memories of all the ‘couple’ talk the three adults had used when referring to the two of them.

Her and Adrien had finally found time to fill Master Fu in on the situation completely, including that they now knew each other’s identities, and that their parents were also in on the secret. It had been an uneasy wait for the reporters and police to back off enough that they could move around without fear of being followed, though they had still played things safe and acted as if they were introducing Adrien to a family member, in case anyone noticed.

At Tom and Sabine’s insistence they had arranged a meeting as soon as they thought it was safe for them to get to know each other – and so her parents could ask any questions the kids might have been unable to answer, or not thought to ask. Family movie night had needed to be sacrificed, but Marinette had been sure it would be worth it. At least, until the teasing had started, and she once again found herself wishing she was able to melt through the floor at will.

No shouts of, “Mama!” “Papa!” or “Master!” had made a difference and Marinette had resigned herself to a fate of death by humiliation as Master Fu had gotten around to explaining that he had tried to pair up two young souls who he thought were “made for each other.” She had absolutely refused to look Adrien in the eyes during that part, but she still managed to catch his shy, embarrassed smile in her peripheral vision when Tom had reached over to muss his hair right after.

There was a muffled thump on the balcony behind her, indicating Chat had finally arrived home. He often liked to stay to the shadows and circle back on himself to ensure no one spotted where they were headed –and normally she did too– but she had been so flustered by everything going through her mind tonight that she had neglected her usual caution and taken a more direct route. But he had finally caught up to her, and now they were both home.

Together. Alone.

And she still had no idea how to bring up her own feelings with him, even with all the constant teasing making it the elephant in the room most days.

“Hey, My Lady? How long do you think your parents’ll stay chatting to Master Fu?” he asked with a tone of almost forced casualness, “Like, should we wait for film night? Or maybe we should just watch one in our room? Just the two of us?” She turned to see him scratch at the back of his neck awkwardly, a hint of nerves evident in the wrinkle of his brow. “Just, it’s getting kind of late, and they’ll have to be up early to work the bakery tomorrow. And I don’t know if you’re worn out from all the…from the talking, but I’d like to do something.”

Biting her lip to hinder her first instinct –which was to push him away by the nose and make a quick getaway– Marinette smiled shyly at him. Her head dropped a little despite how hard she tried to cling on to her depleting confidence, and she found herself glancing up at Chat, almost through her eyelashes.

“Sure,” she said, and as much as she tried for a normal voice, her words came out tender and full of some unspoken emotion, “Why don’t you go find something you think I’ll like?”

Chat blinked at her for a moment, eyes wide and owlish before he shook his head and gave her a weak smile. “I’ll go have a look then,” he said, clearing his throat so his own voice sounded more natural, “You know, this is one of the few times I’d love to have access to my stuff at the mansion. There’s a ton of stuff I’m dying to watch with you.”

She watched as he dropped through the skylight and presumably began to rummage through her family’s collection of films in the main room. She sighed as she considered his parting words. It didn’t seem to bother him that he was only allowed to keep some bare essentials from his time at his father’s, but it was still clearly a weight on his mind to know that everything he owned was being searched through repeatedly on a daily basis, along with everything else in the mansion. Then there was the constant stream of questioning from the police and their reminders that Gabriel’s assets were being held, as well as keeping him informed of any supposed progress in their full searches of the company premises, and certain employee’s homes. Marinette often wondered if they suspected him and were just looking for telling reactions; or if they genuinely wanted him to know how everything was going, given how in the dark he’d been about his father.

“So, I was stuck between an older classic,” Chat breathed against her ear, making her jump a little in fright, “and I know it’s only from 2003 and your dad would kill me if he heard me say that, but it’s Love Actually! That’s a classic, right?”

Marinette fought off the trembling that threatened to give away how nervous she felt. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was from the shock at his sudden appearance, or the way his mouth had been so close to her ear that she had been able to hear the sounds his lips made as they formed the words before his voice broke through. Or even if it was the ungodly amount of discomfort she got from the thought of watching that film with him – given how she remembered first seeing it with her mama in the room and feeling utterly mortified at some of the scenes. She somehow managed to step away and turn to face him without belaying her emotional distress, and then nodded gently in response to his question.

“Or,” Chat continued, “There’s this one – About Time? I’ve never seen it, but I wanted to. Is it good?”

“Um-” she quickly ran over and snatched the DVD case from his clawed hand, “-maybe that one isn’t the best for you to watch. It has a bit of a theme about…” As she trailed off, her eyes screwed up a little and she remained alert to how he might react, ready to offer support if he needed it.

“…Losing family?” she finished tentatively.

For a moment she regarded his rapidly dampening eyes –full of unshed tears– before he turned and wiped at them furiously with the back of his hand. When he was done, he moved towards her and she was still straining her mind to work fast enough to react when he pulled her into a warm, tight hug against his slightly heaving chest. She hugged back as best she could, his cheek resting on the top of her head and DVD case pressing against his back awkwardly as she tried to wrap her arms around him.

“Thank you,” he breathed, voice cracking and sounding slightly watery, though she didn’t feel any tears against her hair or clothes, “You’re always thinking of me. Thank you.”

Only a moment later, she felt his breath even out a little as he regained his emotional strength once more, breaking the hug almost hesitantly to look at her instead. “So, Love Actually?”

She smiled. “Love Actually.”

“Okay!” he said, suddenly grinning and far too cheerful, “Uncomfortable simulated sex scene it is!”

She squeaked and crumpled to the floor, where she remained for a solid twenty minutes before he finally managed to convince her to come downstairs, despite his own fit of giggles.

Chapter Text

Sabine would not have been surprised if her daughter had actually flown through the bakery, considering the speed she was moving at. She watched with barely concealed amusement as the girl dashed straight past her to the door at the back of the bakery before deciding to speak, “He’s not here, dear.”

Marinette froze, one hand still resting upon the handle and turned to face her mother with a confused and mildly irritated expression. “He hasn’t come back yet?” she asked, moving back to the counter to join Sabine.

“Oh, he came back,” she said as she finished serving one of the regular customers, who –to Marinette’s increasing annoyance– seemed far too interested in her conversation with her mother to go anywhere yet, “But he had to leave again right away. His first appointment with the new doctor is today, remember?”

“Oh.” She had remembered, honest, but Marinette’s brain was feeling a little burnt out and it must have slipped her mind momentarily. “Did…did he say how things went?”

“He mentioned some things,” Sabine continued, maintaining uncomfortable eye contact with the woman in front of her while a menacing, yet somehow sweet smile challenged her nosey nature. Marinette knew the look well and remained silent until the woman left, unnerved by the opposition to her earned eavesdropping rights as a daily visitor to the bakery.

Although Adrien had always been pulled out of classes for as long as he had gone to school, it had always been for photoshoots and other business relating to Gabriel’s brand. Things he was no longer required or expected to do, given the man’s lack of control over his life these days.

So, when the Principal had knocked on the classroom door and asked that Adrien be excused for the afternoon, her attention had immediately switched to the people standing behind him.

Police officers.

Clearly, they had questions that couldn’t wait and had managed to clear it with her parents and his advocacy worker. That didn’t mean she couldn’t worry about him and the fifteen unanswered text messages she had sent.

Sabine waited until the solitary echo of the bell above the door had died out before she turned to face her daughter. “They asked him a lot of questions about Nathalie,” she said, softly “and he’s quite shaken. He almost cancelled his appointment because he didn’t feel up to it.”

“But you made him go anyway, didn’t you?” Marinette asked with a sad smile.

Her mother mirrored her, and her eyes betrayed the sympathy she felt. “He needs to talk to someone who isn’t as close to all of this as we are. I didn’t make him do anything, but I did suggest he go, even if it’s just to get to know the woman. And he’s a good boy; he listens.”

Marinette frowned a little, biting her bottom lip as she glanced back towards the door that led to their apartment. “I guess I’ll have to wait till he gets home to see how he’s doing.”

Sabine’s expression morphed from compassionate worry to something much more mischievous and Marinette couldn’t help but feel that the look would be better suited to a much younger person than her mother. Or maybe Plagg. She regarded her suspiciously.

“It didn’t look like he came straight home though, honey. He brought something in and left it for you upstairs before he headed back out.”

Marinette tried to enquire further, she really did, but Sabine was determined not to give away anything that might cushion the reaction her daughter would have to finding her gift herself.

Shooing the girl away as a couple entered the bakery to steal her attention once again, she watched as a pair of pigtails swept through the door, catching sight of the girl taking the stairs two at a time in her hurry to find out what waited for her upstairs.

Marinette burst into the main room of the apartment upstairs, giving it a cursory glance to ensure her present -whatever it was- wasn’t there before she exploded into the room above. She was barely in the room when she found she was irresistibly drawn to the large pot sitting by the computer on her desk.

She found herself gently touching the large leafy plant before she was even aware that she had moved towards the desk. Her fingertips electrified where they brushed the soft, fuzzy texture of the long catkin flowers, warmth spreading along her hand as she was reminded of little Trash Bag and his cosy, soft fur.

The long and thin downy flowers were so oddly shaped and stained such a bright shade of red, that Marinette immediately compared them to chilli peppers in her mind. Of course, their resemblance to spicy food brought with it an accompanying heat, which drew forward a blush to her cheeks. Or, at least, that’s what Marinette told herself as she stroked the plant with a fond smile adorning her expression.

Tucked in amongst the leaves she spotted a small plastic stake, the kind with the name of the plant and the care instructions printed on it. She reached for it and for the folded slip of paper secured to it with an elastic band, a frown marring her features.

The stake informed her the plant was known as an Acalypha hispida, a fact she quickly forgot as she flattened out the creases of the note Adrien appeared to have left her.

“Hey Buginette.”

It started innocently, Marinette’s guard slipping down a little, leaving her heart vulnerable to the impact of his following words.

“I felt my phone buzz about a million times this afternoon and I haven’t had time to read all my texts yet, because I’m kind of on a time limit here. But from what I skimmed on route home, you've been worried about me.

I probably shouldn’t like that, because I don’t want to worry you. But it makes me feel warm and happy when you do. Almost like you’re still right there with me when I’m trying to deal with some of this crazy stuff without you.

You’re amazing.

So, here's some Cat's Tail for the hero of this cat's tale.”

Marinette’s next breath froze and lodged in her throat, icy shock hitting before the inside of her chest burst into flame at the way he had signed the note.

“Love,

Your partner, in every and any way you’ll have me.”

Marinette reread the last line several times. The words, ‘every' and ‘any' had been written over several times with the dark pen, the ink leaving smudges and dirty marks where his hand had rubbed over them in his repetition. It was an odd thing to see on a note from him, considering his usual stance that the appearance of what he had to say was important. She sniffed, biting her lip in an attempt to stifle the dampness gathering on her lower lashes.

“Marinette? Are you okay?” Tikki asked, flying up to her young charge's shoulder, simultaneously watching her expression for a sign of what was wrong and avoiding the sudden teardrops falling down her face. Drawing a blank, the kwami turned to read the note in Marinette's hand for herself.

Reading Adrien's casual words, she sighed heavily, rolling her eyes in fondness for both children. Only her current Ladybug could forget how little thought it required for her Chat Noir to speak of how much she meant to him and how highly he held her opinion of him. Given that Adrien was fully aware of his feelings for both sides of the girl before they were shown to be one and the same, it made sense for him to be so open with her in a less pressured way.

And since this was written and he wasn’t present, there was literally no pressure on Marinette to acknowledge it at all if she chose not to. So Tikki would have to be more encouraging in the next hour or so to try and convince her not to ignore it out of her utter fear of the unknown.

Chapter Text

Ladybug dropped down onto her balcony carefully, watching for movement from the corner of her eye as she allowed her transformation to melt away into the icy breeze around her. She’d only been gone for an hour or two. Her legs had desperately needed stretching and she’d been a jiggling ball of anxiety lately, whenever Adrien had been far too smug and quiet looking.

When Master Fu had suggested that the two of them begin doing active training together to help strengthen their bond and teamwork, she had expected sparring. Maybe races across the city or something. Not this.

Apparently, Master Fu wanted them to sharpen their wits as well as their muscles and had convinced them that trying to out-fox one another in little ways was best. She was sure he meant more mental challenges than what they had slipped into, but honestly the riddles he had left them with were infuriatingly boring, and it was still a little difficult to think straight with Adrien sitting right there beside her, trying to read over her shoulder. What else had he expected from a couple of young teenagers living in such close quarters together?

It had started with Adrien stealing the last of the milk at breakfast one day, leaving the empty carton in the fridge to disappoint her when she tried to pour herself some for her own cereal. So, of course Marinette had retaliated by painting his soap with clear nail polish. She had giggled when he started yelling from the bathroom later that night.

He had quickly upped the ante, and she did the same in retaliation, both of them swept up in the fun of pranking each other. Just yesterday, Adrien had replaced the cushion in Marinette’s favourite spot on the couch with a balloon carefully stuffed inside the cover. She had let out a mortifying squeal when she threw herself back on it and it popped with a loud bang. Her latest revenge had been to tape an air-horn beneath the computer chair. Being taller than her, Adrien had automatically tried to raise it, making the lever hit the air horn button and scaring himself half to death as she laughed downstairs.

They’d gone back and forth for a week or so now and she was honestly starting to get a little worried. He was bound to try something truly awful now.

If she’d told herself a few months back that she would consider Adrien Agreste an evil genius these days, she would have laughed herself hoarse. And yet, here she was, terrified of whatever terrible retribution he had dreamed up for her.

Slowly, she moved towards the skylight she had left closed (but stupidly forgotten to lock) when she had gone out earlier. He’d had plenty of time to set something up if he wanted to catch her on her way back in, so she was extra cautious, waiting for any sign of movement before she shifted her weight between her feet. It paid off as she approached because she managed to spot the flick of a feline tail above her and a strange sloshing sound that told her water was probably involved in his plans.

She let out a humiliating screech as she dived away towards her sun lounger, the only part of the balcony at least somewhat covered by her awning. The shadow of a large projectile loomed through the awning, silhouetted against the sun shining through the material and giving Marinette the perfect view of its approach.

As if in slow motion, she saw Chat Noir jump down from the roof, somehow faster than the water balloon he had dropped, to stand in front of her ready to gloat. She watched in fascinated horror as his expression changed to shocked dread as the balloon refused to pop and instead bounced off of the angled awning and straight at him.

Marinette closed her eyes at the moment the balloon exploded, a deafening squelch of sound invading her ears. She peeked with one eye at first, the other quickly opening as she took in the sight of him, a wide grin slowly overtaking her face.

A soft giggle erupted at first, quickly turning into a full-blown belly laugh as she tried to turn away from him. She soon realised she couldn’t help but look at the miserable sight before her.

Chat was soaked from head to toe. His usually fluffy, erratic hair was lying flat and lifeless. Every inch of his suit was saturated and dripping into the flooded remains of the balloon at his feet. He stood there, the perfect example of a grumpy cat, attempting murder through his eyes alone as she laughed.

“Think this is funny, Maribug?” he asked her, a cruel sneer appearing on his face.

Her laughter stopped abruptly as she watched him, sure he was up to something else now, despite his awful luck with his latest prank. As he started to stalk towards her, Marinette backed off, only to bump into her lounger. A quick glance behind her told her she had run out of places to go. She tried to move sideways, to get herself out of the trap she’d accidentally sprung on herself, but Chat suddenly took up all available space around her as he gave her a sopping wet hug.

Yet another squeal left her mouth as she tried to fight him off, Chat giggling like a five-year-old the entire time as he carefully tackled her to the lounger and rubbed his wet hair against her face.

“Kitty!” she yelped, “It’s too cold out here for this! You’re freezing!”

With a final chuckle at their situation, Chat relented, lying beside her instead and letting his transformation drop. Both kids giggled as Plagg immediately began screeching in disgust at his holder, shaking himself dry and phasing his way through the floor to heat up, mumbling about warm Camembert the whole time.

Marinette ran her hands through the sodden strands of hair hanging in Adrien’s face, soft affection for the boy starting to override her usual nerves at their closeness. He shivered in response, the icy air beginning to chill him without the protection of his suit.

“Warm me up, Princess?” he asked, pulling her into a damp hug and causing the colour to rise to her cheeks again. She hoped she could play it off as being caused by all her laughter today.

Gently shoving him away, Marinette got up from the lounger, turning towards the skylight for a moment, before turning back and offering him her hand. “Let’s get some warm towels and fresh clothes, you dumb kitten,” she said with a teasing lilt to her voice, “I don’t want to catch a cold out here.”

She tried desperately not to think too much on the way Adrien’s hand had lingered in hers even after she had helped him up from the lounger, and how they had only separated when it was necessary for them to climb down.

She tried, but she failed.

Chapter Text

“Feeling any better now, Kitty?” Marinette called as a blond head appeared through her trapdoor. The answer became intuitively obvious as the rest of Adrien rose up into view, a thick blanket covering his shoulders and obscuring the pyjamas he was wearing underneath. As he shuddered with a sudden chill that he was sure only he could feel, he sucked air between his teeth, refusing to let them chatter, lest he worry her.

“Still cold,” he said, fighting the stutter that threatened to surface. “I used up all the hot water,” he continued with a guilty glance up at her, “and got frozen again when the cold came through. So, that was fun.”

She couldn’t help but giggle as his grumpy cat face returned, his lower lip sticking out. She quickly tamed it as another shudder wracked his body and this time the chattering sound made itself known as well.

“Oh! Here!”

He was only beginning to register her words with his last chill-slowed braincell when she flung her arms around him, her gentle hands rubbing up and down his back to share her warmth. He remained stunned – frozen (ha!) in place – even as Tikki and Plagg appeared in his eye line.

“You should ask Plagg to transform you,” Tikki told him, “the suit might not be able to heat you up exactly, but it helps hold onto whatever heat you already have or gain as the night goes on.”

“Yeah great, Sugarcube, just volunteer me and all my energy instead of letting me sleep tonight.”

“Oh shusht, you. It’s a-” -she glanced at Marinette briefly as the girl pressed her face against Adrien’s chest- “-comfort thing. So enough complaining.”

Despite his misery, Adrien chuckled –partly at the exchange in front of him, partly from his giddiness at his proximity to his Lady– until a small sneeze reverberated through him, another threatening to follow. He quickly pulled away from Marinette even though internally he was protesting the idea, already craving another hug. But since he wasn’t sure yet if he was just feeling cold or had caught a cold, he didn’t want to risk infecting her.

“I, um, don’t think it’s a great idea for you to sleep downstairs tonight,” Marinette said when his sneezing had passed, her teeth worrying her lower lip, “The window guy didn’t finish the job today like he promised. There’s probably a horrible draft in there.”

“Yeah. Guess it’s a good thing your dad was suspicious and put off moving my bed earlier.”

It was true. The plan had been to move some of the bare basics into his finished room as the window fitting was completed. He could sleep there at night while they speed-decorated it during the day and hopefully his case worker would be appeased. They all really wanted to avoid any further issues she had with the two teens sharing a room.

But instead Tom had approached Adrien this morning and said he thought he should give him an extra night or two “just in case.” Adrien had frowned as he supposed Tom must have been wary of the contractors promised timescale, though he had thought that was odd at the time. The guy had seemed like a total professional and as far as he knew, had only been held up today by an abnormality in the wall which made sealing the facing more difficult than expected.

“Oh,” Marinette said flatly, “That’s…good.” She chewed her lip harder and he winced a little in sympathy even as he fought back another sneeze.

“Kid, I just checked your bed, and it is freezing over there,” Plagg said, dashing between them, “The window must have been open earlier or something. You do not want to sleep over there tonight.”

“You just don’t want to have to work to keep me warm,” he grumbled, sniffing back another sneeze as he spoke, “So tell me Plagg, where am I supposed to sleep?”

“Duh. All the heat in this place rises, so-”

“Oh!” gasped Tikki, suddenly catching on, “Marinette’s skylight is practically airtight. No heat escapes unless she opens the vent to let it. So, her bed is the warmest of all!”

“Tikki!” Adrien shouted, scandalised. He looked back to the girl standing in front of him and immediately noticed how she refused to meet his eye, instead glancing at a random spot on the floor. With her feet turned inwards slightly, and her arm reaching behind her to grip the opposite elbow, timidity radiated from her with every breath.

“Actually,” she started, turning her head a little towards him, but still not quite meeting his eyeline, “I was thinking the same thing.”

Adrien’s pupils shrunk to tiny specs, even as the rest of his eyes seemed to enlarge to fill up the remaining space on his face. He watched as she shuffled in place a little, enchantingly nervous but eager for his response.

“Are you…asking me to…take your bed?” He watched, fascinated, as the pink hue across her cheeks darkened and spread out further.

“It’s the warmest place in the whole apartment,” she said to his shoulder as she continued with her miniscule attempts towards eye contact, “and it’s where I sleep. So, I can always help keep you warm too.”

He blinked rapidly and a wonderfully cosy blush spread across his cheeks briefly before the heat was absorbed by the chill of his skin. “I am trying so hard not to make the kind of comment that usually gets me throw off buildings,” he admitted bluntly.

She choked on an adorable little snort-laugh and her eyes finally inched up the last of the remaining distance as he joined in, their rising giggles harmonising together beautifully. A tickle in his nose gave him a brief moment of warning and he turned his head away in time to prevent himself from sneezing all over the laughter-flushed girl in front of him.

“Aw, poor kitty,” she cooed, running her hands through his damp hair, even as her face bloomed with heat, “Tell you what. I’m gonna go make a hot water bottle for you. Head on up to bed and get bundled up. Plagg, take care of him while I’m gone, will you?”

“Can do, Spots,” the little black creature answered and the two of them watched as their other halves disappeared through the trapdoor together. Plagg turned back to his charge with a satisfied smirk, “You heard the lady, up the stairs to bed!”

“Oh my God,” the teen said in sudden awkward terror, “I’m really gonna share a bed with her tonight.”

Plagg rolled his eyes at the squeak of his voice and gave a long-suffering dramatic sigh, but his fond smile gave away the true affection he felt for the boy. “Yup,” he said as he started to gently push Adrien towards the ladder, only stopping when the stunned boy began to climb upwards on autopilot.

He managed to crawl across the mattress, and it was with a little assistance from the kwami that he got under the pink covers, blanket still wrapped around him beneath them. His mind was running a million miles a minute and he hated the foggy way his thoughts were forming because of how cold he was. He knew Marinette considered the two of them best friends on a completely different level than either of them saw Alya or Nino, but this was pushing those friend boundaries more than usual. The two girls could share a bed, or the two guys and it was fine, but this? A boy and a girl sharing a room was considered odd enough. His case worker had insisted he get his own room, or he would be removed from the Dupain-Cheng’s care, so for him to sleep on the same mattress as Marinette? Under the same duvet?

“Doesn’t she realise just how this is gonna…I mean, Plagg, isn’t she freaked out? She knows I like her. Does this mean-” he coughed awkwardly to break off his thoughts before he voiced them, “Isn’t she worried about sending me mixed signals or something?”

“Oh, my Me,” Plagg groaned, a phrase he had taking a liking to after it had made Adrien laugh once during a conversation about Plagg technically being a god. The small creature facepalmed with a sigh, “Kid, please tell me you’re joking. If you can’t see that Spots has it bad for you by now, then I don’t know how to convince you.”

The warm blush that swam across his face once more was a pleasant change to his frozen state. He smiled softly as Plagg’s words sunk into his heart deeper and deeper, drowning in the gooey affection they caused there.

“I was worried I was just imaging it,” he mumbled softly, “I still think I might be.”

“Uh huh. And I’m that pleasant white fluffball pooch from down the street.” His tiny paws came up to rest on non-existent hips. “She’s crazy about you. Tikki thinks she’s just scared to tell you in case you suddenly change your mind. I think she’s just awkward as heck and has no idea how to bring it up.”

“So, you think that I should-”

The trapdoor opened and Adrien clamped his mouth shut as Marinette reappeared, pyjama clad and looked delectable with her hair splayed loose across her shoulders. She took a moment to turn out the lights before she ascended the ladder rungs and joined him.

A blossoming of warmth spread out across his chest as she shyly pressed a hot water bottle into his arms. He smiled as he took in the calico design on the cover, and the nervous way the girl tried to adjust herself to get comfortable, clearly very aware of his presence so close beside her.

“This is nice,” he said with a short sniff.

“Yeah,” she whispered with a shy smile, eyes pinned to the pillow beneath her.

“Rest of me still feels cold though.” He smiled as she finally glanced at him properly. “Could I get a hug to warm up?”

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she considered it. “Will you transform first so you stay warm?” she asked.

“Plagg, claws out.”

The light from his transformation hadn’t even faded fully when she snuggled into him, her face tucked into the crook of his neck and the cosy calico pressed into his chest tightly by her own. He wound his arms around her as hers in turn settled against him. He considered tucking a leg around her own but stopped himself before he took that step, fearing it might have been one too far.

“Did Plagg take care of you while I was gone?” she asked and the feel of her breath against his neck made him shudder in a way completely unrelated to his temperature.

“Yeah. Yeah, he was great really. He talked with me for a change instead of driving me crazy, so I guess that counts as exceptional care.” Her giggle reverberated through him and he decided he should get sick more often.

“I’m glad,” she said, her calf unexpectedly sliding against his and tucking under it loosely, as his heart stopped briefly, “I was w-worried he might make fun of you over this.”

“This?” he squeaked, clearing his throat quietly before he continued, “Nah. He was actually…really helpful. Cheered me up a bit as well.”

“Rea-” -She gave a loud yawn- “-lly?”

“Yeah. He said something to me, you know?”

“Mm hmm.”

“He told me that I’m not imaging some of the things I’ve been wondering about lately.”

“Hmm.”

“He said that you…Marinette? You know I like you, right? Uh, love you, actually.”

There. It was the first time since their identity reveals that he had said it out loud. He exhaled heavily. She didn’t respond.

“So, I need to know, do you like me? The same way that I like you?”

Silence.

“Marinette?”

He pulled back enough to glance down at the girl snuggled against him. Her brow furrowed adorably at the loss of contact and her arms loosely pulled him back in towards her. She had fallen asleep at the moment of his emotional vulnerability and all he could think was that she was the most gorgeous creature alive. The view warmed his heart even as he shuddered at another sudden chill.

“Hmm. Purrs,” she mumbled sleepily, and he realised she was right. The sight of her and the feel of her arms around him had elicited a deep rumble in his chest.

Giving into the happiness he felt in the moment, despite the lack of an answer to his own internal dilemma, Chat replaced his head on the pillow and allowed the sleeping girl to cuddle into him tighter. He sniffed away the discomfort in his nose and gave into the soothing rumble and their mingled breathing as he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

It was still the middle of the night when Chat awoke, briefly confused by the proximity of the ceiling above him and the darkness-muted rose colour of the duvet cover against his chest. As the memories of the sleeping arrangements from earlier caught up to his foggy mind, and the emptiness of the bed as well, he heard a muffled noise from the floor below.

Peering over he spotted a head of dark, messy hair – as its owner stood bowed over her desk, grabbing at something hastily. He noticed the tissue in her hand when she brought it up to catch her sneeze, tossing it in the trash in favour of a fresh one when she lapsed into a new bout of sniffles again.

“Are you okay, Bugginette?” he rasped out. He gripped at his throat as she looked up at him, the mere act of saying a few words feeling like an attempt to swallow a block of sandpaper.

“Kiddy?” she sniffled, her nasally tone making it clear that her nose was blocked up and interfering with her regular speech. “You should be asleeb. You need your res’ to feel bedder.”

“Looks like I could say the same to you.”

Taking advantage of his super-abilities, Chat leapt over the guard rail by the bed and landed almost silently beside her. She flinched for a moment at his reckless actions before giving him a half-hearted swat to the arm.

“You scareb me,” she grumbled when he laughed, her accompanying frown deepening when it transitioned into more of a coughing fit instead as his raw throat protested. “You shouldn’ do dat when you’re sick.”

“And you shouldn’t be down here without a blanket. Besides, I’m only a bit sick. You seem much worse off.”

“Nahb,” she told him, her voice adding a new consonant to yet another word that didn’t need one, “I always seemb worse than I actually am. I don’t feel too bad, excepd that I can’t stob sneezing.” She punctuated her words by grabbing another tissue to catch the next one that exploded out of her suddenly.

“Nuh uh,” Chat croaked out, catching her off her guard by sweeping her legs out from under her and scooping her up into his arms. "Thank God for enhanced abilities,"  he thought as he wobbled for a moment, slightly weakened from his illness, but still plenty strong enough to carry her safely.

Keeping his tail  pointed straight out behind him for balance as he began to ascend the steps back up to her bed, Chat desperately tried not to think too hard about the feeling of her arms pressed against the bare skin of his neck or the way she didn’t seem to cling too tightly to him. She had absolute trust in him not to drop her and it made him glow inside with pride.

When he reached the top he gently sat her down, gesturing for her to scoot up the bed and climb back under the covers and -to his relief- she did so, though not without a pause for a sneeze or two on the way. He climbed back down to grab her box of tissues and situated them beside her except when he tried to retreat again this time, she gripped his wrist. He looked up at her face for further clarification.

“You comeb back to bed too,” she sniffed, her inflamed nose standing out even in the darkness.

“I will in a minute,” he smiled, “Just need to get a few things for us first.”

With a quick fumble for the no-longer-hot water bottle from earlier, Chat retreated again to prepare to take care of his Lady.

It seemed like only a few minutes later when the words, “Hey, you still awake?” roused Marinette from the restless doze she had slipped into.

“Hmm?” she murmured.

“I made us hot drinks,” came the whisper again, “Lemon and lots of honey with a shot of cold medicine mixed in. Like my mom used to make me when I was sick. If you breathe it in while it’s hot, it can help with the sneezing too.”

Blinking a few times, clearing away the tiredness from her eyes, she tried to focus enough to take the mug from him.

“Sit up properly first, or you’ll choke or probably spill it.”

“Dowing meb? I’ll do boff.” Huh, her nose seemed to be even more clogged than before. Maybe it was to do with her tiredness, or maybe she really was worse than usual.

She righted herself, pulling the duvet up to her chin before freeing her arms to take the mug from him. The steam wafting from it smelled delicious and she inhaled as deeply as she could manage through the one nostril that would allow it. It was with a pleasant surprise that she discovered it soothed her skin where she had rubbed it raw with the tissues.

A tiny, hesitant sip revealed it tasted as good as it smelled and gave way to a much larger gulp from the mug. It was followed almost immediately by a hiss in pain at the scalding temperature.

“Careful!” he scolded her, “It needs to be hot to help the sneezing. Breathe first, drink after.”

“How comeb you’re drinkin’ yours already then?” she huffed.

He smirked gently, not fully facing her as he took a long drink from his own mug. “Didn’t let the kettle boil for mine. Switched it back on for yours. It’s you who’s been sneezing; my throat just hurts.”

“Ohb. Well, are you at least feelin’ any warmer dow?”

“Yeah, much warmer. Which reminds me…” He leant over towards the end of the bed and snapped up the hot water bottle he’d forgotten about, boldly pulling the duvet away from her and tucking the cosy accessory against her pyjama top before replacing the cover.

“Uhb…danks,” she mumbled, a warmth spreading through her from both the water bottle and her sudden affection for his thoughtfulness. “You didn’t habe to dough. I would’b been fineb.”

“Marinette.” His words were chastising.

“I would dough!” she told him, sounding very much offended despite her affectionate smile.

“You’re only sick because of me, Princess. Now blow on it a few times so you can drink it down. I think Sleeping Beauty needs a little more sleep than she does beauty right now.”

“Are you drying to say I look ab mess, Kiddy?”

“A gorgeous mess,” he smirked slyly, “As always.”

She chose to blow on her drink and take a tentative sip instead of responding awkwardly to his dreamy gaze.

When her drink was over half empty and Chat had finished his, he took the mugs away, leaving them on the desk below to be dealt with properly in the morning.

Marinette took her time curling up under the duvet, finding the optimum position to sleep in with a nose as snotty and blocked as hers bothering her. She whined for Chat to hurry up the whole time she did so, acting as if he was deliberately trying to slight her by being out of the bed at all. His amused chuckle was quickly becoming her favourite song.

When he finally started to crawl over to her, he laughed at her sprawled form laying in the centre of the bed, gently poking her side to get her attention. “I need some space too, you know,” he snickered.

“Dere’s plenty of roomb if we cuddle dight,” she said back, the cold medicine loosening her tongue enough to be even more forward than she had earlier. She didn’t even notice his startled expression at her words, instead using her arm to sloppily beckon him towards her more.

He responded eagerly, sliding into bed and positioning himself so that her face was resting against his collar bone. She snuggled in close until her nose hit something. From his viewpoint, he missed the way she screwed up her face in irritation, so he had no opportunity to think of it as cute – though he definitely would have done if he had seen the expression.

“Your bell is in de way,” she grumbled, stubbornly giving the mentioned bell a tiny headbutt in defiance, “Be Adrien againd sob I’m comfy.”

He chuckled again, -louder this time- his throat no longer feeling particularly sore when he did, thanks to his drink and most likely to Plagg too. After all, the small creature must have been enhancing his own body’s natural defences to his illness.

“Anything you say Bugginette,” he said fondly, dropping his transformation and his eyelids too, as he started to drift off to pleasant thoughts and dreams for the remainder of the night.

Chapter Text

Just because he wasn’t Chat Noir all the time didn’t mean he wasn’t Chat Noir all the time.

There were certain things about having spent so long as Chat before he had let Marinette and then her parents in on his secret that seemed to have skewed his appreciation for some of the same things that Plagg loved.

Soft pillows beneath his head, warm blankets around him. Cosy material against his skin and a delicious spot of sun shining down on his torso from the skylight above him.

Warmth.

The blessed warmth that had finally returned to him in full. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Marinette was the source of most of that warmth. He glanced over at her sleeping face –relaxed and gorgeous– despite the spot of drool currently threatening to drip from the corner of her mouth. He gave a soft chuckle and carefully wiped it away with his thumb, causing her to nuzzle her face further into the pink pillow they both shared. He carefully shifted a bit closer to her, gingerly reaching back out to stroke her arm as he considered how she would react if she woke up with him slinking into her snug little bubble.

He thought back to how timid she’d seemed last night when she’d first suggested they share the bed. Even though she had appeared more relaxed than he was when they had first gotten in, he wasn’t sure how much of her confidence was down to her delayed illness and the related lack of inhibitions. Maybe if she woke up feeling renewed, his presence would become a shock.

He balanced himself precariously between the pros and cons of her waking up in a marvellous cuddle-puddle with him. The pros involved the enchanting warmth, the scent of her hair and her supple slightness against his own body; the cons, his own deep-burrowing insecurities and possibly an outrageous physical reaction from the startled girl as she woke.

He was just recalling how much her embarrassed shoves and other attacks had been escalating lately when she surprised him with a violent shiver from beneath the duvet. His arm was wrapped around her with haste and he swore the movement of it blurred before his very eyes. Delicately, he cradled her against him, leaving plenty of space on her side of the bed. That way, he reasoned, she wouldn’t feel trapped if she woke up and instinctively tried to pull away from him in shock.

He felt a tug at his chest and glanced down at the small hand twisting into his shirt lightly, sincere affection once again melting through him as a wave of love with a slight hint of embarrassment flooded his mind. She continued her assault on the fabric, frowning slightly when she didn’t seem better able to grip the material to pull him closer. Instead, she slunk into the last available sliver of space between them, nuzzling his collar bone with her nose. Her only sound was a slight grumble when his sudden shaky breath disturbed the hair hanging against her face.

“M-Marinette?” he said breathily.

Another sharp shiver was his only answer and this time it was followed by a continuous shuddering as her body fought to warm off the invading chill seeping into her very bones.

He tried to reach above him to grab the huge cat pillow she kept on her bed, hoping to position it against her back like a second body to keep all of her heat from escaping, but her hold on his shirt tightened as if he were trying to desert her and she didn’t agree with his departure at all.

He quickly examined the death-grip of her fingers and made a half-hearted attempt to pry them away before the whine that left her throat had him abandoning that idea in an instant.

“Plagg!” he whisper-shouted with urgency.

“Hmm?” grumbled the familiar voice of his kwami sleepily from somewhere on the bookshelf above his head.

“I need to transform.”

“Wh-?” Plagg cut off with a yawn before popping his head over the edge of the shelf, “What time is it? I never heard the akuma alert go off.”

Adrien glared at the tiny creature. “It’s not an akuma and it’s not even that early!” he said in annoyance. His eyes widened and trailed the area around him for a beat before he added, “Probably.”

“Then why…?” Plagg said, trailing off with a grin as he noticed the way Marinette’s fingers were attempting to infuse themselves into the fibres of his clothing. “Oh, I see. Isn’t this the kind of thing you’d usually kill to have happening between you two?”

“Not when she’s freezing, and I can’t move to reach anything to help her!” he spluttered indignantly, averting his eyes from the smug little god.

With a brief shrug from the kwami in response, Adrien called for his transformation, the fabric Marinette was holding onto disappearing in the process of becoming Chat Noir and releasing him from her sleepy constraint.

She fumbled for him and in turn he moved quickly, pulling the duvet up to her chin and tucking it in beneath her back to trap in as much heat as he could. The cat pillow was snuggled in against her back as well, another defence against any pesky draughts that might try to attack with a chill.

He had barely finished his little nest when a small hand clutched at his bell and hauled him back down to the mattress. The high-pitched yelp that he expelled would have been hilarious if he’d heard it from anyone else, and he was extremely thankful that Plagg was vocally-challenged right now because of his transformation.

Refusing to give him an opportunity to remove himself from her clutches, Marinette unleashed another sleeping sneak attack and folded both of her arms around his middle. Her hands met somewhere around the small of his back and from the feel of it, she had interlocked them to keep him from pulling away again.

“Purr,” she sighed dreamily before a scowl slowly began to adorn her face instead. He smiled as she began to gently nudge his chest with her temple.

Taking his cue, he concentrated until he could feel his chest rumble and a gentle hum accompanying it. Relaxing himself once the purr had become instinctive, he allowed his eyes to flutter closed again, his lashes feathering against his cheeks, and found himself drifting off to sleep once more.

Eyelids flickered and twitched as a strange sound reached his ears.

Chat opened his heavy lids again to the sight of dark raven locks and caught the overpowering scent of flour in the air, but he was no closer to understanding why he had woken this time. With a smile, he buried his nose in Marinette’s dark hair and that strange sound from before repeated again.

With a wrinkled brow he slowly dragged his head from the pillow to see if he could spy a source and whipped round when he saw someone from the corner of his eye.

At the foot of the bed sat Marinette’s mother, her eyes dewed, hands clasped over her heart against her floury apron. Her lips were turned up in an amused smirk and when she saw him staring at her in horror, Chat heard the sound again, as yet another muffled chuckle escaped her.

“Sabine!” he wobbled, “I can explain! I-”

“Shush! My goodness, don’t wake her!” she said, palms out towards him in an attempt to calm him down.

“Huh?,” he whispered, perplexed, “I don’t understand. Aren’t you mad?”

…

Well, he’d never been on the receiving end of that look before.

Sabine often used a unique way of alerting Marinette or Tom to the fact that they were being ridiculous over something trivial that they had managed to build up in their head, and it was unbelievably simple. She would simply give them the most deadpan look she could muster, face still and unimpressed. Then, after she had held it for several seconds to make her point, her left eyebrow would raise the most miniscule amount, like a non-verbal version of a sarcastic, “Really?”

That exact eyebrow ascension was being directed at him right now and Chat had never felt quite this stupid before – though for what, he wasn’t entirely sure. It was also kind of amazing how Sabine could make him feel that way, yet never once make him doubt that she loved him as if he were her own son. His own father had often made him doubt his love for him, even back before his mother had gone missing. Back when everything had been “good” at home and magic jewellery was but a twinkle in his imagination.

“Uh, sorry?” he told the woman, feeling like he needed to explain his reasoning, regardless of how sketchy it might seem, “I’m in her bed. We’re not even supposed to be sharing a room anymore, and we’re sharing a bed right now.”

The look never faltered as she continued to silently question his intelligence.

“Not that I want you to be angry, but isn’t that how a mom is meant to be when she finds out something like this?”

Her facial wargame was interrupted when Marinette shivered suddenly and cuddled in tighter to Chat’s loosened embrace to rebalance her dropping temperature. The action reminded him that he still hadn’t explained the reason behind the situation, something he intended to rectify immediately.

“We caught colds,” he summed up, “It’s warmest up here so we decided to share the heat. It’s never happened before, and it won’t happen again. I promise.”

Sabine snorted in a very Marinette-ish way, before a smirk appeared on her face. “Never?” she asked.

Chat felt his face redden more steadily with every second. “We’ve never shared a bed before,” he said, voice tremulous and weak.

”Well, that’s a surprise,” she answered, her eyes at once expanding in shock, “Tom and I were sure the two of you must have been, given how comfortable you are with sharing your personal space during battles and patrols.”

“What?”

“In particular, that picture Nadja’s network got during that little heatwave we had made me think cuddle naps were a normal thing.”

“That was before we knew our identities!” he squeaked, remembering how much Ladybug had lamented dozing off against his chest after a reporter had snapped them in the couple-y position. The questions hadn’t stopped for months.

“Oh? And has something changed since then? …Really?”

Glancing down at the sleeping enchantress next to him, Chat wondered if Sabine might have a point. Had things changed? Part of him hoped so. After all, Ladybug had claimed not to have any feelings beyond friendship for him back then.

Chapter Text

Ladybug watched as for the first time in several days, Chat Noir’s face relaxed completely. His jaw was finally slackened, and he puffed out gentle little breaths against the red, spotted leg he used as his pillow.

Running her hands through his blond mop of hair, she carefully glanced around, once more checking to see that the secret rooftop spot they liked to frequent was high enough up to avoid the searching gazes of any reporters or curious civilians. As expected, the area was mercifully just as empty as it had been when they had arrived at the spot this evening, and every time before that. Thankfully, no one watched them but the stars, peeking between the vines of honeysuckle and clematis that intertwined with the trellis above them.

Ladybug sighed. The last thing they needed was for someone to think that they had decided to “slack off” now that there wasn’t a supervillain in Paris. Adrien had been through enough lately and the last thing he needed was for the press to start hounding him in his escape guise as well.

Finally, he had started to feel safe again; to be somewhat normal. But just when the situation with Gabriel was starting to die down again for the public, the police had officially charged Nathalie with being an accomplice to Hawkmoth and taken her into custody. It had stirred up the whole thing all over again and suddenly his life was back under the microscope, open for all who wanted a chance to gawk and gossip about the son left behind by Paris’ well-known fashion celebrity turned cold-hearted magical terrorist.

While privacy laws for both celebrities and minors meant that the press shouldn’t have been able to harass him, there were plenty of shady ways reporters had been trying to capture evidence of some kind of breakdown from him. In several cases, others had blatantly broken the restrictions to pester him openly. Ladybug was sure that these so-called “journalists” probably had a large budget set aside for if Adrien chose to sue them and considered the financial risk minimal compared to the potential of a juicy exclusive.

Adrien had no intention of taking any of them to court anyway. He had no money of his own while Gabriel’s assets were frozen, and besides, he was far too fragile to survive an extensive legal battle without losing the shaky façade of his composure.

Typically, now that his life was more exhausting than it had ever seemed to be before (even with all his extracurricular activities), it was also when he was beginning to struggle to get any sleep at night.

Ladybug had initially hoped that her visit to the police to recover the Peacock Miraculous would have set his mind at ease a little and allowed him some rest. Once it was retrieved, she had figured they would know once and for all that both of the supervillains that had terrorised their lives were gone; they could relax, instead of waiting for an inevitable strike of revenge from Mayura.

So, with good intentions in mind, she had gone inside to request (and then after a rejection, politely demand) a chance to study the belongings taken from Nathalie upon her arrest. Upon her discovery of the brooch among the women’s possessions, however, she had suddenly comprehended that this was proof beyond a shadow of a doubt that yet another person in Adrien’s life had let him down. Horrified, she’d had to be the one to break the news to him that the arrest was no mistake.

Now Adrien’s mind was cracking, and the splinters of his psyche needed comfort and as much familiarity as it could get to heal back together again. Which was why Ladybug was once again lamenting her loss of him as her roommate.

While her parents had made it clear they didn’t see an issue with the two of them sharing a bedroom, all it would take was a single slip up when Mme Kindern visited for Adrien to be removed from their foster care and his tiny sliver of remaining stability. Nobody wanted to risk that and so he had finally moved into his new bedroom.

At least he had gotten a say in the decorating of his room. Although it had been painfully awkward when he’d initially frozen up upon being asked how he wanted the place to look, and she had remembered that he had never been given creative freedom like that before. Once he’d managed to get over his silent shock, he’d excitedly asked for bright red walls with black spots and a children’s Ladybug lamp he’d seen in a store window once. Marinette had no idea how he could possibly keep a straight face while asking for such a thing.

While her parents had laughed and gently teased –and Marinette had turned a hue to rival her super suit– they had negotiated with him to choose something a little less busy and more suited to his age. While they wanted him to choose for himself, they also didn’t want him to regret his decision the first time he had someone over and realised how embarrassing it could be for him. Once he understood her parent’s motivations, he had happily agreed and, after some thought, eventually decided to go with a bluebell shade that made him feel more at ease in his own space. It was only when she’d overheard him telling Nino about the appearance of his room that she belatedly realised why he had decided upon that exact colour.

“You know,” she affectionately whispered to the cat ear she softly caressed, “my eyes and the things I knitted for you aren’t quite the same shade of blue.”

She smiled at the way the leather-like material moved in irritation as her breath disturbed it. “You dumb kitty.”

She relaxed somewhat, fully comfortable now with their isolation in their surroundings, and with a quick moment to mull over a sudden idea, she acted upon it and dropped her transformation. Tikki spiralled out from her left earring, landing in the cupped hands which Marinette held out for her as the pink glow faded, and immediately beginning to devour an offered macaron from the girl’s purse.

Once she had had her fill, the tiny god turned questioning eyes to the girl holding her, no words needed to ask what was on her mind.

“I don’t know how to keep doing this, Tikki,” she whispered, carefully eyeing the cat ear which sleepily flicked atop Chat head as her breath continued to disturb the tip, “He’s just so open about everything, and I’m just…I’m a mess still.”

Tikki glanced down at the lapful of Chat that Marinette currently had in her possession and smiled gently. Her tiny brow raised on one side, an attempt to raise one of a pair of features her face didn’t have.

“About what exactly?” Tikki asked while floating up to hover in front of the girl’s face so she wouldn’t have to continue straining her neck by looking downwards.

“I just…his room and why he wanted it blue,” she started, listing as she thought, “Those flowers, the note with the flowers, the way he acts at home and at school.” She chewed at her bottom lip as she tried to find words to reflect her inner turmoil. “Not only does he love me, but he’s not, umm…afraid? To just…make it obvious? He doesn’t even try to hide it.”

Tikki let out a little giggle, flying off to perch on a thick honeysuckle stem at the side, forcing Marinette to turn her head to keep the kwami in view. Her hand continued to stroke Chat’s hair, moving on feel alone now that she could no longer see it, and she tried to ground herself on the soft texture of the blond locks.

“And why does that make you a mess?” Tikki asked, her smile staying warmly set on her little face, minor amusement evident in her expression.

Marinette sighed. “You know why.”

“But it might help if you say it out loud. You haven’t had many opportunities to talk things through lately, since he’s spending so much time with you.”

Marinette let out another sigh, this one longer than the last. She had a point. And as a being who had been around since the very beginning of the universe, she had probably gathered a collection of a great deal of wisdom. One that she should try to learn from whenever she could.

“I’ve never been…very good at-” she moved her free hand to gesture that she was searching for the right words, “-at, umm, being…completely honest, uh, about my feelings. My feelings for him.”

“You’ve never had much of an issue telling me before.”

“That’s different, Tikki. Up until recently, you’ve been the only person who knew everything about my double life. I’ve always known I could trust you in a completely different way than I’ve ever felt I could ever trust someone else.

“Not to mention, telling you that Adrien makes my stomach feel all gooey inside is much easier than telling him.”

Tikki giggled quietly into her tiny hands.

“Practising might help,” she said, “Imagine this: if everything was perfect and you were calm and weren’t frightened about what he’d think or say, how would you like to tell him? What words would be the perfect words to accurately describe how you feel?”

Marinette glanced up at the pink and white blossoms over her head as she searched for words that might never be enough. A delicate pink petal drifted down and landed on her nose for a moment before gravity pulled it onwards, taking some of her insecurities with it. A soft smile gradually settled onto her face and she glanced back to the kwami beside her.

“Tell me,” Tikki encouraged, “as if I was him and you were brave enough to say it to his face.”

The girl gave a determined scratch to the head beneath her hand and took a deep breath; not from fear or a need to relax, but a breath of calm acceptance. Even if she could never get up the nerve to tell Adrien himself, she was at least confident in how she felt about him.

“Adrien. Chat,” she said, her voice dripping with adoration, “I’d love to make this sound pretty, but the truth is the way I get about you isn’t always like that. I overthink everything when I’m around you. I just want to be as perfect as I can be because that’s exactly what you deserve. I get tongue-tied a lot when you fluster me, which – let’s be honest here – is a lot. All you have to do is sit next to me and I forget how to think clearly.

And it’s not because you’re hot. I mean, you are, but that’s just a bonus, you know? Because you are the most sensitive, sweetest person I have ever met and you completely wear your heart on your sleeve for everyone to see and when you told me that first day that you hadn’t been to school before and that you were new to having friends and-” she gasped in a sudden breath as her rambling exhale caught up to her, “-and when you gave me that umbrella – even though it meant you were waiting out in the rain for me to take it – it…it was le coup de foudre.

Her voice dropped at the end until they were no more than a breath on her lips. Tikki made a sound of delight. Marinette’s hand brushed against the leather-like material amongst the soft locks, reminding her of more she wanted to tell him.

“And for a long time, I refused to think of Chat as anything more than my best friend, because it would mean considering someone other than Adrien. But then you started hanging out with me at my apartment, and with my mama and papa. And then when you moved in and I saw how much you were hurting, it got so much harder to ignore how much you meant to me.

“Because I fell for Chat Noir as well, and then it turned out you were both the same person and…I don’t know exactly. Because I loved you even more all of a sudden, but I guess I really don’t know how to cope with the way I feel around you, because if I thought it was hard to tell you before, then now it feels impossible.”

With confusion, Tikki asked, “Why?”

“I don’t even know why. Before it was out of fear of you turning me down and me being upset and embarrassed and me making you feel uncomfortable. But now, I know you love me, because you’re so damn vocal about it, and because you do all these sweet, little affectionate things all the time and I’m still terrified and unsure, but I don’t know why because I’d love to just be your girlfriend already.”

She still hadn’t raised her voice above the whisper she had started with, but the air around them still felt too quiet now that the echo of her words had died away.

Marinette dropped her head into her hands, finally relinquishing her hold on Chat’s hair. “Oh Tikki,” she said, distraught, “How am I ever gonna tell him?”

“Well,” said a decidedly more masculine voice, and Marinette swallowed the mouthful of her own heart to glance down at her lap with wide, unbelieving eyes. Chat Noir’s grass-green sclera and emerald irises were pointed straight back at her, boring into her very soul.

“You could always let him overhear it when he’s supposed to be asleep?” he suggested with a grin on his face very reminiscent of a literary famous Cheshire cat.