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The front door opens and Adrien blinks down at the vision in plaid before him. This isn't how he imagined his day going; this is better.
"Oh la," voice breathy, leaning his shoulder against the door, "I've always dreamt of a whirlwind romance with a Scottish laird."
"I know," Marinette swaggers closer, cape swooshing. "So you've informed me once per Outlander episode. I'm here to sweep you off your feet and I won't take no for an answer. Merry Christmas."
"How rugged," He peers down at the top of her head as she wraps her stickbug arms around him, "has the sweeping begun already?"
He can feel her grip constricting and she decisively hoists him up over her shoulder. It pokes into his ribcage and whoosh! expels all the air in his lungs.
"Good...! Sir...!" he wheezes. "You are too brazen..!"
"We must hide. The English are coming," Mari totters inside, prisoner folded over her shoulder, nearly toppling them both when she kicks the door shut behind her.
The cat in Adrien kind of wants to panic-twist to escape her hold, but Adrien the man is more interested in reaching down to see if he can grab her bum through the cape's thick red material.
"Hey!" she moves to drop him on the sofa but since he is so much taller than her, she has to upend her center of gravity to do it. He takes advantage, whipping her up off the ground and neatly onto his chest.
With a smirk, she lifts the edges of the cape to cover them both like a very low plaid tent. Their mouths are close. Almost none of the light from the big living room windows is visible, only a soft red glow. Her pointy shoes poke his ankles and he wants to poke her back.
"Plaid looks good on you, my fair maid," he rhymes innocently.
"'Plaid' sounds like 'mad', you rake," her mouth almost on his.
"Oh no, my dove! You know I would never, ever say a word wrong on purpose just so that it rhymes."
She rolls her eyes. "The lies this man tells."
His fingers inch around her waist. Mouths even closer.
She wriggles. "Did you just lick me?" and sits up. "I think I'll let the English punish you for your crimes after all."
Daylight floods Adrien's vision again and he retracts his tongue.
"Scottish lairds." He draws a circle on her shoulder, then a few more. "Lumberjacks. Long johns. And your cape. This is the Venn diagram of plaid."
"Shut up," Mari smiles. "I love it and I'm never taking it off."
"Is that so?" He moves to sit up on his elbows. "Because I'm pretty sure it'd still look fantastic on the floor of my bedroom–"
She holds him down with a single finger on his lips. "You and I both know –"
He bites down on his lip to keep from biting her finger. "Hmm?"
"The floor is no longer a safe place for any of our clothing."
As if on cue, there is ominous scritching in the middle distance.
"My children have awoken," he whispers to her. "They have smelled your high-quality, designer goods and have arisen from the fathoms of their deep slumber to answer the call of the wild hunt –"
"It seemed like such a good idea and I just –" she mutters. The two cats come tearing into the living room, Bert hot on Cookie's tail. She yowls as he grabs her and they scuffle. The coffee table judders when they bump it. Marinette silently folds the edges of her cape up, away from the impending fur and claws of their wrestling teen cats. Adrien watches, rapt.
Plagg zips into the living room and wags a short arm at them. "Bert! Leave your sister alone! I'm talking to you, Bert! Camembert!"
"Who'd have expected Plagg to be the high-strung parent?" Mari nudges Adrien. "And Tikki's the chill one."
"Remember when we got them last year?" he wags his eyebrows at Marinette.
• Unnecessary flashback of Last Year •
"Only name them something you'll be comfortable shouting down the hallway," Marinette had advised sagely, the black kitten purring on her lap.
"I guess in that case Miss Cheesyfarts is off the table," Adrien sighed to Plagg over the bundle of white kitten and Tikki curled up on his chest.
"I was sent to this Earth to protect you from yourself." Plagg lazily bared his teeth, nestling up against Marinette's elbow while trying to sound regal. "Now, are we in agreement? Their names shall be Cookie and Camembert."
"Mmm, what's that word for when you name your child after your favorite food?" Mari asked Adrien.
"Cannibalism," Tikki said, radiant.
• End of unnecessary Flashback •
*
Adrien jolts up in bed so suddenly that he catapults the two kwami nestled by his ankles into Marinette's jaw, and effectively wakes up everyone at the same time.
"Death is upon us!" Plagg roars.
"...Adrien?" Marinette asks, one hand rubbing her chin and the other slipping into his.
"I dreamed you transformed into Ladybug, except your costume was all plaid," he whispers, eyes wide.
Eyes slitted, she takes back her hand.
"It was basically you wearing full-body long johns and that plaid cape... and when the wind caught the cape, it lifted to reveal you had a butt flap...!"
Groaning, Marinette lies down and rolls over. He rolls her back toward him and drapes his full body weight over her. It's tough but there's no escaping the truth. He brings his mouth close to her ear and breathes: "and your face mask... was made of fleece!"
"Get off me, you monster!" She howls and fights him off.
After a moment of wrestling he pauses and sits up.
"I dreamt of a cold wind," Adrien says, very suspiciously.
She follows his gaze. "...'twas no dream sir," she climbs out of the bed and opens the bedroom door. "I feel a serious draft."
He follows her out and they pause in horror. The balcony door is wide open. The cats are out there. They make slow eye contact. Bert has his back to them. Cookie innocently starts washing herself. They're just pretending.
"Not again," Mari breathes, inching closer to the balcony.
"I'll get the cat basket," Adrien's voice is grave as he follows, careful not to make sudden movements.
"No, please, guys," Marinette begs, "come back, it took forever to find you last time and we had to pay that guy so much money for his fish–"
"My laird, best fetch your cape," Adrien mutters, gently pawing open the balcony door.
The cats wait until their humans are upon them.
"Nooooaaaaarrghhh," Mari cries in slow-motion. Adrien is the fastest man in Paris but too slow to catch the cats as they leap to a grand new world.
To freedom!
*
That night they're finally in bed.
Adrien shifts wearily.
"We have a whole apartment," he tells the darkness. "So many comfy cozy corners. A guest room. Cat beds. Kwami beds. And yet."
"And yet," Mari echoes, voice muffled.
There are two cats and two kwami nestled on the pillows between their faces, sleeping deeply.
"I don't even remember the last time I just got to make out with you in peace," he gripes.
"You're the one who wanted to keep our escaping children close."
He draws circles in the air. "Alcatraz. Houdini. The cats."
Whichever cat is next to him stretches and snuggles their butthole right up to his face. It is unfortunate yet comforting.
"We really saw all of Paris today." Marinette whispers. "Like these cats are secretly an akuma. My earrings were beeping and I didn't even transform."
She can't see him wag his eyebrows in the darkness. "My favorite part was when you got so hot running around Montmartre you started stripping off layers of clothing."
"I wanted to show you the buttflap on my plaid long johns," she says. "Good night, lass."
Adrien will dream of plaid again.