Chapter Text
Marinette stared at the reflection in her vanity mirror, searching the earnest blue eyes that stared back at her. “What am I doing?”
It had been a nightmare of a week. Lila Rossi, daughter of an Italian diplomatic attaché stationed in Paris had spent an entire school year scheming, lying, and deceiving people around her in a calculated campaign that had resulted in Marinette's expulsion and eventual return to school.
Somewhere in that whirlwind of confusion, betrayal, and exoneration Marinette and her long-time rival, the blonde, wealthy heiress Chloé Bourgeois had reconciled more than a decade of bitter jealousy, and Chloé had come out to her, and Marinette revealed she was bi to Chloé.
Then that kiss. In front of the entire class. And Adrian.
Marinette groaned in frustration. “Why did I ever agree to go on a date with Chloé?”
“You seemed pretty excited about it at the time", Tikki tittered. Marinette glared at the tiny immortal spirit that enabled her transformation into her superheroine alter-ego.
“You’re not the one who can’t do a thing with her hair", Marinette grumbled, pulling a brush through lustrous blue-black hair for the third time that afternoon. “And I’ve got nothing to wear! Chloé lives and breathes high fashion.”
“Its just a date, Marinette", Tikki chided, floating in mid-air. “It’s not like she’s going to propose to you.”
“Ack!”
“Calm down, Marinette.”
*-*-*
You wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at her, but Chloé Bourgeois was a nervous wreck.
She stood on the pavement outside one of the more exclusive bistros in Paris, glancing frequently at her gold Cartier watch, increasingly concerned, pretending an air of detached indifference while she awaited the arrival of Marinette DuPain-Chang, her former nemesis, a small white paper bag with gold lamé loop handles dangling from her fingers.
‘She’s going to stand me up, I just know it', Chloé thought to herself.
“Hi! Hope I’m not late!”
Chloé almost didn’t jump out of her skin when Marinette announced herself from behind Chloé. “Eep!”, she squeaked.
Turning to look at her date, Chloé cast an appraising eye over Marinette. Blue-black hair in her typical twin short ponytails, sapphire blue eyes shyly smiling. A darling vintage black bolero jacket over a scarlet silk cami top and fitted white capris, stylish black sandals on her feet, toenails varnished to match her top.
“Urf?”, Chloé ventured, smitten.
Marinette snickered. “Chat got your tongue?”, glancing at Chloé's bespoke saffron yellow sundress that enhanced the faint golden tone of her skin, calves appealing due to the white high heels Chloé wore.
“Here”, Chloé thrust the bag at Marinette, a touch of colour rising in her cheeks.
Hesitant, curious, Marinette looked in the bag, lifting out a small white jewelry box. “I didn’t get you anything”, she confessed.
“It’s okay”, Chloé replied, hiding her disappointment.
“This is so weird", Marinette admitted, fiddling with one of her ponytails nervously. “We went after each for years, and here we are. On a date.”
Impulsively, Chloé took Marinette by the hand and led her to the podium where the maître-d' stood patiently. “Table for two. Something with a view.”
“But of course, Mademoiselle Bourgeois. This way, s’il vous plaît.” The maître-d' led them through the scattered tables to the patio, where the girls each sat at the presented table.
“It’s a ring!”, Chloé blurted out. “In the box.”
Marinette twitched.
“Why are you trying so hard?”
Chloé let out a shaky, self-conscious laugh. “Hard? You have no idea! My mother thinks money is the only thing that matters, daddy is obsessed with position and appearances.”
“Breathe, Chloé.”
Marinette opened the ring box, examining the contents. A simple bright silver band, set with a small faceted sapphire an two tiny diamonds, one on either side, flush with the surface of the band. It fit perfectly on her pinky.
“It’s gorgeous. But I can’t possibly-", Marinette blushed.
“You can and you will, DuPain-Chang”, Chloé insisted, twisting her napkin into submission. “It’s not much, a token of apology for being such a bitch.”
Marinette took a sip of water, thinking.
“This is weird”, she pointed out again. “I always thought my first date would-"
“Be with Adrian?”, Chloé grinned impishly.
“God, yes!”, Marinette burst out laughing. “Can you imagine the disaster that would be? Me falling all over myself, him trying desperately to be ‘Mister Cool'?”
Chloé’s shoulders shook, using her hand in a failing attempt to conceal a grin. “Alya with her mobile in the background, shooting video for her blog", she giggled.
“Lila ready to eat broken glass in jealousy!”, Marinette hooted, drawing disapproving looks from other bistro patrons.
Their hands touched across the table.
Shocked silence.
“Why did I spend all that time being jealous of you?”
Fingers intertwined.
“I was jealous of you, too.”
The kiss was sudden, lunging, hungry, nibbling, gentle.
Two pairs of blue eyes, staring at each other.
“Where did that come from?”, Chloé whispered.
“I have no idea.” Marinette was breathing fast, confused, excited.
The waiter cleared their throat politely. “If the young ladies are quite ready to order…”
Blushing, Chloé and Marinette suddenly found their menus infinitely interesting.
*-*-*
The setting sun painted Paris gold with it's fading rays, Marinette and Chloé ambling close together in the cooling blue shadows, hands clasped, heads tipped towards each other, chatting quietly, laughing softly with each other. Chloé carried a rolled-up sketch of the two of them drawn by a street artist, Marinette sniffing a rose plucked from a vendor's stall.
The quiet of the evening shattered by a thunderous explosion and the discordant tinkle of raining glass. Alarm bells clamored and sirens shrieked as the girls ducked instinctively, trying to protect each other from flying debris.
The figure that strolled arrogantly out of the billowing cloud of smoke was a sneering, chalk-faced pencil-moustached caricature of a calculatedly indifferent Parisian street mime, leather attaché cases in either hand bulging with stolen cash.
“Bomb Voyage!”, Marinette snarled in recognition.
“Stand aside, insignificant trollops!”, the internationally notorious villain ordered.
“What did you just call my girlfriend?!”, Marinette bristled as she handed off her precious rose to Chloé.
Chloé grinned wickedly.
“Kick his ass, baby.”