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When Alya invited Marinette to eat at Alain Milliat, she accepted the invitation with hesitance. When Alya insisted on paying, Marinette’s suspicions doubled. Alya only took her to what they both considered one of Paris’ finest cafes (and by finest, they meant finest, as Alya often swore that if she wasn’t preoccupied with her Ladybug tribute blog, she’d spend her waking hours writing rave reviews about how casual yet chic the restaurant was, and sometimes Marinette would say that if she needed a blood transfusion and the hospital was out of blood, the jus griotte would do quite nicely) when she wanted something, and Marinette concluded that this time was no exception.
"As much as I want to trust you,” Marinette said between sips of juice. “I can’t shake the feeling that you need a favor from me.”
“Huh?” Alya feigned innocence. “What could I have possibly done to make you feel that way?”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but last time we came here it was because you were failing biology. Did Professeur Blondeau flunk you again? I thought you sorted things out with him.”
“I did. I have a C, but it’s better than before.”
“That’s good,” Marinette drummed her fingers on the table. “So if it’s not biology… then what is it?”
Alya sighed deeply. “Alright, fine. You got me. Nino and I are doing a project for our film class and we need two participants.”
“Alya, you know I can’t act.”
“You don’t have to act!” Alya’s grin reached from ear to ear. “It’s more like a social experiment. The two of you sit facing away from each other and have a normal conversation, then you make assumptions about the person’s appearance based on their personality! It’s supposed to be a message about how society teaches us to stereotype people.”
“Can’t you get another friend to do it?” Marinette groaned. “You know I’m bad at talking to people.”
“Not to sound like a total hermit, but you and Nino are like… my only friends.” It was true. It had been the three of them since high school: attending dances together, arranging video game tournaments, and even earning the nickname “The Three Amigos.” “Luckily, Nino found one other person for the video. This guy that he met at a party or something.”
“Who?”
“If I told you who it was, that would defeat the purpose of the experiment!” Alya slapped her hands on the table like she was a motivational speaker and Marinette was her audience. “This needs to be an authentic video! An unflawed experiment! A raw study of the human psyche!”
“You want to accomplish all of that by having me make small talk with a mystery guy?” Marinette quirked an eyebrow.
“Pretty much.”
“Ugh. Fine.”
“Yes!” Alya punched a fist into the air, causing people at the neighboring tables to glare at them. “This is gonna be so great! You know that bar that Nino had a gig at last month? The owner- you know Alix, right?- was totally cool and said she’d let us use the space. I’ll text you the details.”
Marinette chugged the last of her juice and set the empty bottle down dramatically. “Alright. But you owe me another juice. Actually, make that two juices.”
Alya swung out her arm, offering her hand to Marinette. “It’s a deal.”
They shook on it.
--
The bar looked very different- almost unnatural- without its usual writhing crowd of patrons. The space seemed much smaller with the lights turned on, and certainly more tidy. Against the wall to Marinette’s left was where she assumed they would be shooting the video. Tables and chairs had been crammed into corners to clear room for the little set-up: a simple round table with a white tablecloth and a chair on either side, each turned to face away from the other.
Marinette reread her text from Alya to make sure she’d arrived at the correct time. She didn’t hear anyone else in the bar. “Hey, girl!” it read. “Be at the bar at 6:30 sharp. Alix will leave the door unlocked for you. Wait for further instructions.”
She waited for twenty minutes before Alya burst through the doors, looking flustered. “God, Mari, I’m so sorry I’m late! My phone died and I was having problems with the equipment, and-” At this point, she leaned her face out the door and yelled, “Nino! Hurry up! We only have two hours!” She turned back to Marinette. “Again, I’m so sorry. Honestly. Let’s change the deal to three juices to make up for how horrible of a friend I am.”
“Alya,” Marinette laughed. “It’s fine. Do you need help setting anything up?”
“God, you’re a lifesaver!” Alya hugged her quickly before gesturing for her to come outside. “We have to get the lights in here, so if you could help to carry them in, that would be great. Nino and I will take care of the rest.”
Marinette learned that the lights were much heavier than they looked. She wished that the strength she had as Ladybug could carry into her civilian life as she dragged the heavy equipment onto the curb. Just pretend that Adrien Agreste is behind those doors, she thought, and that he’s waiting for you to set up one of his shoots. And then after the shoot he confesses his love for you, you make out, you get married, and you have three beautiful children.
As they set up the lights inside, there was a timid knock on the door. Alya and Nino locked eyes, and Alya swiftly grabbed Marinette’s arm and dragged her into the bathroom at the back of the bar.
“What was that for?” Marinette attempted to straighten out the wrinkles that Alya had made in her shirt.
“He’s here!” Alya hissed. She seemed more excited than she should have been. “Nino will get him set up outside, and you'll put this on.” She pulled a long piece of red fabric out of her bag.
“You’re kidding me.”
“The two of you can’t see each other or else the whole project is ruined. Now hush and put on the blindfold.”
“Four juices,” Marinette muttered as she tied the fabric tightly around her head. Alya guided her back into the bar and she flinched as the bathroom door slammed shut behind them. Eventually, she was lowered into a seat.
“Alright,” Alya clapped her hands together satisfactorily. "You can both take off your blindfolds. But no peeking at each other! And don’t mention your names.”
Marinette carefully undid the knot of her blindfold and removed it, brushing her fingers through her hair to smooth it down. She took in a shaky breath and focused on the wall in front of her rather than her churning stomach. She hated this part of herself: hated how the simplest conversation turned into an impossible task for her, hated how she struggled to order at restaurants, hated how she was always the “quiet one” to match Alya’s loud confidence.
“And we’re rolling!” Alya said. Marinette glanced to her left (she hoped inconspicuously) to see Alya giving a familiar expression. She must be planning something. “Alright, you crazy kids. Get talking!”
Would it be weird if Marinette didn’t talk first? She didn’t want to come off as disinterested or awkward. Would she leave a bad impression if she waited for her partner to speak first?
“Hey.” Due to her indecision, her partner got the first word. She mentally face-palmed. Now she looked like a jerk.
“Uh, hey!” Damn it! She sounded entirely too unsure! This was a mess.
“It’s nice to meet you. Even though we’re not really meeting face to face. I guess I should say ‘it’s nice to talk to you.’”
Marinette’s breath hitched. No, no, no, no. Although it was much more soft without its usual bravado, the voice she heard undoubtedly belonged to Chat Noir.
She started breathing again, quicker this time. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. This wasn’t how she was supposed to meet her partner.
“Yeah. It’s nice to talk to you, too.” Her hands were clenched in her lap, shoulders locked like she was bracing for impact. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
Behind her, she heard Chat inhale sharply. She moved to hide her face in her hands but stopped herself for fear of ruining Alya’s video.
“Do we… know each other?” Chat sounded starstruck.
“No!” Marinette said a bit too quickly. She felt her breakfast churn in her stomach.
“Oh… okay.” Of course he didn't buy it. Chat sounded just a nervous as she was. She imagined him doing the thing he always did with his nose when he was worried. It provided her with little comfort.
“So…” Marinette was surprised to hear herself speak. “How old are you?”
“I’m nineteen."
“Me, too.”
Chat let out a shaky laugh. “I thought you were older than me.”
She managed a laugh. As anxious as she was, she was genuinely curious about her partner's life- the little details that may seem trivial to others but were entirely unknown to her due to the nature of their relationship.
"Are you in university?" asked Chat. She found herself a bit flustered at how interested he seemed in her life.
"Yeah, ESMOD. But I work at a bakery as well."
"You're a fashion student?" He sounded surprised. "Wow, ESMOD is a great school. Do you want to be a designer?"
"More than anything," she gripped her hands together in her lap to stop them from shaking. "What about you? Any… aspirations?"
"I'm taking a gap year, actually. And I'm going to study chemistry. Or biology. I don't know, something in the STEM field. Right now I'm working as a model, though."
Marinette laughed despite herself. "Bullshit!"
"What?" He protested. "I'm… attractive!"
This only made Marinette laugh harder. "Do a lot of shoots in leather?"
This earned a chuckle from him. "Only for you, My L- um, my friend."
"Hmm, I might have to take you up on that offer." A bit of Marinette's panic was subsiding, but it came back twofold when she glanced at Alya and saw her confused look. Marinette quickly tried to make the conversation seem less natural.
"So…" she said. "You're nineteen and a super-genius model. What's your number one goal in life?"
"Well, I wouldn't say I'm a super-genius. But… I guess my goal in life is to make something of my own, that I'm truly proud of. A family, maybe. I feel like all of the success I've had has been given to me by chance, and I'd like to do something independently, you know? Forge my own trail."
"I feel that," Marinette said, realizing how little she and Chat had heart-to-heart conversations. There'd been a few instances, especially after high-stakes battles, but it was refreshing to know these intimate details about her partner.
And it was true. Although she was proud of her achievements of Ladybug, she hadn't worked at all for the title. There had been no interviews, no promotions. It was a hand-me-down, something she hadn't designed, but was given.
"And what about you?" Chat asked. "What are your big plans?"
(Stop being scared every time a stranger makes small talk with me, learn to stop second-guessing myself constantly, keep the confidence when the suit comes off, get through this video shoot without fucking up one of the most important relationships in my life-)
"I just want to be truly content with myself, and to make others around me happy."
"You already make others happy," said Chat. "I mean, I don't know you, but I was having a pretty crappy day today, and just talking to you has made it a lot better. You have a very comforting presence."
To her embarrassment, Marinette blushed. "Uh, thanks."
"Any more profound questions?" asked Chat. "Because I came here thinking I'd discover the meaning of life."
It was so Chat that she almost let out a sigh of relief. The easy confidence, the sarcasm- she could almost hear his crooked grin. And then there was her, reduced to nothing without her spots and yo-yo, heart beating too-fast and so, so scared.
He'll be disappointed.
"Uh…" Marinette shuffled through potential questions in her head, wondering what exactly pretentious film students wanted their test subjects to converse about. "What's your… biggest regret in life?"
"God," said Chat. "Coming in heavy."
"That's my job."
"Alright, then," he sighed. "I… I don't think I told my mom that I loved her enough. She died a few years ago, and she was incredible, really! But she was busy really often, and so was I, and we didn't talk enough."
Chat wasn't someone she often thought of as a civilian: he presented himself as a character, someone that belonged in a suit, fighting and joking on the rooftops of Paris. His grandeur and easy confidence made him seem unreal, like he'd seem out of place sitting in a cafe or riding a metro or doing schoolwork.
But Marinette saw sadness in Chat, too. He'd shrink a bit sometimes, when he didn't need to be showy. During patrols he'd close his eyes and lean forward, down towards the streets below, and let the wind blow through his hair. She'd watch him and appreciate his peculiar beauty, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled, inhaled and exhaled, and she'd wonder what made him this way- what caused him to switch between being a creature of chaos and one of gentleness. The wholeness and confidence he displayed during battles gone, he seemed infinitely more human. Maybe, when the layers were stripped back, he was the same as her. Awkward. Unsure. Desperate not to mess this up.
"Shit," said Marinette, and then caught herself. "Sorry, sorry, that was probably the wrong thing to say! That just… really sucks. I'm so sorry."
"Thanks," he said, with a kind of quiet politeness that she seldom heard from Chat. "It means a lot. And it's fine. To not know how to react, I mean. It's an awkward topic for a lot of people. So, what's your regret?"
He'd shared something so intimate, and Marinette had nothing to give in return. So, stupidly, she said:
"It seems really dumb and inconsequential after yours, but there's this guy that I really liked. I'd had sort of a celebrity crush on him for a while, but I started working as an intern at his family's company, and I was always too intimidated to say anything to him. I know that he's famous and all, but I genuinely liked him. He was kind of shy, when he was out of the limelight. And he was really thoughtful. But soon enough, the internship ended and I'd never said a word to him. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't even recognize me if he saw me."
Putain, she was the biggest asshole in the world, wasn't she? She'd just talked Chat's ear off about her failed attempt at hooking up with Adrien Agreste after he'd opened up about his dead mother.
There was a moment of silence and then Chat said, "I don't think that's dumb."
"Thanks," Marinette smiled weakly.
"Actually," said Chat. "I do have another regret."
"What is it?"
"Well," he started slowly. "It's kind of similar to yours. There's a girl, a girl who I've known for a while. And she's just… wow. Absolutely magical. I'm pretty sure I fell in love with her the first time I saw her, but I've always been too much of a wimp to tell her. But, honestly? I think she knows."
Marinette blanched. She looked at the floor as if the swirls in the wood would form a script for her, would give her the perfect words to say. It was something she'd been aware of for years, but it hit her like a punch to the gut when she heard it voiced.
"Yeah," said Marinette. "I think she does."
Chat cleared his throat nervously. "Getting back to the point of this little experiment," he said. "I'm guessing you're short. Black hair, maybe? And… blue eyes. Freckles if you squint."
"Blond hair," said Marinette, heart pounding. "And bright green eyes. Tall. Admittedly, pretty handsome."
Chat made a surprised little noise, and Marinette felt something twist low in her gut. This is a mistake, she thought. Why am I flirting back? What if he hates me, what if he thinks I'm ugly and plain without my mask on and decides he doesn't like me anymore. What if this ruins our routines, our banter, our friendship? This is unearthing something in me that I don't want to face, and
"I don't know if I'm ready," she blurted. "I'm sorry."
"Hey, hey," said Chat. "I'm also nervous. Really, really nervous, actually. But we're fine. We'll be alright. Just turn around. Unless you really don't want-"
"No!" Marinette interjected. "No. It has to happen eventually, and if we keep trying to wait for the perfect moment, I don't think it's ever going to happen."
Chat laughed, breathy and light, like he did during their celebratory fist bumps after a particularly difficult akuma attack. "How about…" he said. "We both close our eyes, and I'll count to three, and then we'll open them at the same time?"
She thought she might vomit, and she tried to convince herself over and over that it would be the same. Same dynamic, same memories, same old Chat. Just sans mask. "Okay."
"Close your eyes and turn around," said Chat, and she did.
Marinette scooted her chair so it would face Chat, clenching her eyes shut. She heard his chair scraping across the floor, and could tell that he'd moved to sit right in front of her. She lifted a foot up, and it brushed against one of his legs. She inhaled sharply.
"Three," said Chat, and rather than waiting until one, Marinette opened her eyes.
The rest of his countdown faded into the background as she stared at Adrien Agreste's tousled blond hair, tanned skin, and bushy eyebrows. When his eyes opened, he gasped.
Instantly, her face felt hot because holy shit, holy shit she'd kissed Adrien Agreste. On multiple occasions!
"You look familiar," said Adrien faintly. Something must have clicked inside of his head, because his eyes brightened and he exclaimed, "Marinette! I did remember you!"
As she felt her cheeks burn, she watched as Adrien's face turned a similar share of red. "Wait, wait, wait," he said. "You had a crush on me?"
"What?" Marinette snapped. "I never said- oh. The um, internship."
At her lack of denial of her supposed crush, Adrien laughed in disbelief. "You did! Holy shit, we've been chasing each other in circles, haven't we?"
Marinette pictured Adrien with a pair of cat ears, showering her in cheesy pick-up lines and tripping into poles while flirting with her, and began to laugh.
"I think it's been more of a square."
"Oh my god, you're right!" He wheezed. "Can somebody give us an award for being in the most convoluted situation known to mankind? I literally have a picture of you as my desktop wallpaper!"
As soon as he said it, his eyes widened. "Shit, I didn't mean to say that."
Marinette was endeared at the Chat-ness of his expression, at the realization that she could, without much trouble, begin to see the model and the superhero as one and the same.
"If it makes you feel any better," Marinette smirked. "I used to have about 20 posters of you hanging up in my room when I was in middle school."
Adrien smiled lopsidedly. "God, you're incredible."
And just like that, her brain was back to short-circuiting.
"Um, you're incredible… too?"
"I'm glad you think so, My Lady," he winked.
They both froze, and a look of horror washed over Adrien's face as he turned to face Alya, who was making a noise akin to that of a fish attempting to breathe out of water. Alya was clutching Nino's shoulder, pointing between the two of them accusatorially while wearing a look of profound shock.
"You!" She all but yelled. "And… And you! Marinette! I never thought that you and Adrien could be…!"
Adrien put his hands up in a frenzied display of innocence. "It's- it's a common term of endearment. I call loads of people My Lady!"
"Yeah!" added Marinette. "We just, uh. We know each other from, um... the internship. And-"
"And we're definitely not Ladybug and Chat Noir!" said Adrien. "I mean, come on! I look nothing like him!"
"Exactly!" cried Marinette. "His hair is entirely the wrong color! And Ladybug is definitely way taller than me!"
Alya's face turned several different colors before she muttered in disbelief, "You're Ladybug and Chat Noir... I was going to say that I thought the two of you had some weird, secret love affair going on and that Adrien was now deciding to claim you as his mistress but you're- you're- what the fuck, Marinette!"
"Shit, shit, shit," Marinette mumbled. "I'm sorry, Alya, I'm so sorry, I just freaked out because I recognized his voice and I've been meaning to tell you for years, really, I have, but I wanted Chat to know who I was first!"
Marinette realized that she'd begun crying. "I'm really sorry Alya, I've wanted to tell you for so long, you have no idea. I just couldn't put you in danger and I couldn't betray Chat's trust and I'm so, so sorry."
She wiped her tears with the palms of her hands, fully expecting for Alya to tell her to leave and to never speak to her again. She'd lose her best friend and the video would be posted on the Ladyblog and her life would be over, but maybe she deserved it-
"It's fine," Alya sniffled. "I can't say that I wouldn't have done the same thing if I was in your place."
Marinette looked up and saw her two closest friends through a haze of tears. She instantly began to cry in relief. Alya and Nino both moved over to Marinette, Alya embracing her tightly and Nino comfortingly putting his hand on her shoulder. Through Alya's curls, Marinette saw Adrien sitting awkwardly in his chair, looking utterly guilty. She waved him over.
"Come on," said Marinette. "Group hug."
Adrien walked over and hesitantly put his arms around Alya and Marinette. From her peripheral, she noticed Nino offering Adrien a bro-fist of solidarity, and she smiled at the display of affection. As they huddled in a group, Marinette made eye contact with Adrien. She smiled broadly, for once not caring what she looked like.
"Nice to finally meet you, Chat," she whispered.
"Yeah," he replied. "It's nice to meet you, too."
She knew that this marked the end of many things- of the dynamic that they'd fallen into, of the anonymity that had made their relationship so comfortable- but it also marked the beginning of others- of complete honesty, of opportunities to interact as civilians, of having their feelings in the open. Of knowing his name. Of taking him to restaurants and museums and the River Seine.
She wondered what their true personalities were- were they Ladybug and Chat Noir, the anonymous and strong, or were they Marinette and Adrien, the flawed and subdued? She'd later realize that they were both: Marinette's clumsiness and timidity was as much Ladybug's as Ladybug's bravery and wit was Marinette's, and Adrien's quietness and propriety mixed with Chat Noir's boldness and snark in a perfect amalgamation of the two identities. She'd later realize that this reveal wasn't breaking them apart, but making them whole, colorful mosaics of their civilian and hero selves.
But right now, she was shaky and teary-eyed in a pile of her dearest friends, and all she could feel was love and touch. They stayed together, silent and strong, until Nino spoke.
"You know, Marinette," he said. "I always wondered why you had a six pack without exercising."
Marinette and Alya shook with laughter.
"Dude," said Alya. "For literally six years, I've run a blog worshipping you and you've said nothing."
They dissolved into fits of laughter, Marinette gasping, "I mean, it was weird, but you were so happy!"
"And don't think you're off the hook, Agreste!" said Alya. "I happen to know, thanks to Nino, that you own several items of Ladybug merchandise."
"A bit more than several," said Nino.
"It's good quality clothing!" Adrien declared.
"What about the plushie?" Nino said. "You don't sleep with that, do you?"
At this point, Adrien's face was red enough to match his Ladybug merch collection. "I mean, sometimes! But- but not that often! Ugh, Nino, this is so embarrassing!"
"I have a Chat Noir plushie in my dorm room," admitted Marinette. "It, uh, makes me feel safe."
Adrien looked as if he might implode. After he made several stuttering noises, Alya interrupted with, "God, just bang already!"
Both heroes were incapable of making eye contact while packing up the filming equipment.
When the lights were packed into the truck and the tables and chairs were moved into their rightful places in preparation for that night's customers, Adrien waved goodbye to Marinette, promising to meet her that night in their regular patrol spot. Marinette blushed profusely and waved back, still barely believing that of all people, Chat Noir turned out to be an incredibly attractive model who was somehow interested in her.
Before the Three Amigos parted ways, Marinette pulled Alya aside to apologize for ruining her project.
"It's totally alright!" Alya exclaimed. "This ended up being way more interesting than me or Nino could have anticipated! We have two back-up test subjects anyway: these two girls named Juleka and Rose who I think would really get along."
"Again, I'm really sorry," sighed Marinette. "I always knew there'd be no way to do this without making you upset. I always expected to have time to prepare a speech or something before telling you."
"I'll forgive you," said Alya. "On the condition that you tell me everything about your powers. What exactly is a miraculous? And I've heard Hawkmoth use the word kwami before, is that some kind of extension of your power? You haven't always had superpowers, right? It's the miraculous that gives you those powers, isn't it?"
"Geez, you've really thought these questions through!" said Marinette. She pointed at her earrings. "This is a miraculous. Chat's- Adrien's- is his ring. And a kwami is kind of like a little god that comes with each miraculous. They're what gives it power. Actually, I'll have to introduce you to Tikki, but I left her at the bakery next door because she had nowhere to hide in the bar. Actually, it was mostly because she was hungry."
"Wait," said Alya. "So when I've seen your purse move before-?"
"Yep," she smiled. "That was Tikki."
"Hold on!" Alya exclaimed. "Are there any set rules for who gets to wield a miraculous?"
"Um, I'm not sure. I was actually chosen by the protector of the mirac-"
"Can I try on your earrings?"
The two girls left Nino to drive the equipment back to the school, and they walked down the sidewalk together, chatting as they went. Alya continued her interrogation, and found a new victim when she was introduced to Tikki. Although six years worth of questions would take a while to answer, Marinette was willing to provide explanations to the best of her ability to pay Alya back for being the most incredible friend in the world. She'd let the four-juice debt drop.
That night, as she kissed Adrien in the sparkling twilight of Paris, she wondered how she'd become this lucky.