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Chapter Text

Marinette’s head pounded painfully, as if she were the victim of a severe migraine.  She lay there for what felt like an eternity, waiting for her senses to right themselves and for the pain to ease slightly. 

At least she hoped it would ease.

The pillow and mattress beneath her smelled musty, definitely not like her bed.

A moment of panic gripped her, eyes going wide in fear.  They snapped shut again with a pained groan, the dim light too bright.  But it confirmed her fears had been unjustified.

She had remembered then what lead to her current state.

She had been walking home from a late delivery, finding the city’s subways running too late for her to wait and take to be home at a reasonable hour.  In hindsight she should have maybe hailed a cab or tried to catch a bus.  Then she wouldn’t have had that unpleasant encounter with those two men.

They had maybe a decade or so on her, and were obviously drunk.  They had catcalled her as she passed, falling into step behind her as they continued their disgusting taunts.

Not getting the response from her they had hoped for, they had pounced, grabbing her and dragging her into a nearby alleyway.  Her screech of terror and calls for help went unanswered except by the laughs of the duo.

Their intent was clear then.

One threw her against a wall, and she remembered the flash of light behind her eyes from the pain, causing her to drop unceremoniously to the ground.  Her last thought as things had gone black was at least she wouldn’t be conscious for what would come next.

But what had occurred?

How did she get here… wherever here was?

Carefully she cracked open an eye to take in her immediate surroundings.

It was dark from the night, but she could clearly see she was in some sort of old warehouse.  Wherever she was it was probably in the industrial sector of the city.  It had enough old and derelict buildings like this one that anyone could just set up shop inside and no one would even care.

Closing her eyes again, she brought her hand to her throbbing head, rolling off her side to her back.

The sound of low purring reached her ears as a wet cloth carefully wiped at her forehead.

Marinette only knew of one person in all of Paris who could most likely purr.

“Chat…” and she opened her eyes only to feel her breath lock in her throat.  “Blanc?”

Magenta feline eyes dropped from inspecting her injury to meet her eyes, only a moment, before returning to the task at hand.

Marinette held very still as he worked, not knowing what might set him off.  She remembered the last time Chat Noir had been akumatized into Chat Blanc.  He had been cruel and calculating, uncaring about people around him.  And so very, very lost.

Nothing like this.

He was taking his time, making sure whatever wound she had on her forehead was properly cleaned and tended to.

Chat Blanc looked different this time around as well.  The first time all his black leathers had turned bright white and his green eyes had gone a vivid and icy blue.  This time he seemed more… feral.  His now white leathers actually had fur patches on them, his belt tail now seemingly a real tail lashing back and forth. 

And were those fangs she spied peeking passed his lips?

Was he really akumatized?

What had happened this time to cause it?

“Chat…?” she called gently in question.

He responded in a kind of half snort, half feline growl.

“Chat, what happened?” she pressed carefully, a hand lightly touching his.

His eyes narrowed as he recoiled from the contact as if burned, a harsh hiss escaping his clenched teeth, ears flattening to his head.  Marinette shrunk on herself in response, afraid of any kind of retaliation.  But he merely growled low at her, a kind of warning.  She held her hands up slightly in surrender, accepting the unspoken terms.

Do not touch him without permission.

With a near quiet snort he resumed his task of cleaning the injury on her forehead.  From over his shoulder she spied quick movement, drawing Marinette’s attention from the white feline.  Focusing her gaze in that direction she met a set of bright green feline eyes watching in concern.

“Plagg?” she whispered.

Chat Blanc whirled in the direction she was looking in, growling in menace.

The little black kwami sniffed derisively at his attempt to intimidate.  “Try it, kid, and I’ll turn you into a pile of ash,” he warned.

It seemed to be enough to cause the boy to back off slightly.  Plagg floated towards Marinette, hovering near her shoulder.

“You okay, Marinette?” he questioned.

“I’m okay… but, how are you here?  Shouldn’t Chat Noir have been transformed to become Chat Blanc?”

“I’m not sure, but I think he was thinking of transforming to blow off some steam when Hawk Moth got to him.”

“Blow off some steam?”

Plagg sighed heavily.  “His Dad is a real piece of work.  He already has a million and one restrictions on him, but dear ol’ Dad figured out a whole new set to impose on him.  There was no negotiation, just, wham!”

Chat Blanc growled low, almost angrily agreeing with what the kwami was explaining.

“Well, you should have let me—”

Chat Blanc gnashed a short growl at the kwami.

“Yeah, you remember that when all this is over.”  Plagg turned his attention back to Marinette.  “I didn’t get to him in time after his last meeting with Daddy Dearest and he transformed into this.”

“But the akuma should have transformed him into something close to what he was feeling at the time,” the girl reasoned.

“The kid was near feral with rage, so this actually fits.  But the akuma was different this time, not black like they usually are, but really white.  You know, like too bright to be just white.  Not sure Hawk Butt has any kind of control on him though.  He hasn’t tried to cause any mayhem or anything, just prowling the rooftops.  Kind of boring really.”  He floated closer to the girl and regarded the swelling abrasion on her brow.  “You sure hit that wall hard.  Wouldn’t be surprised if you have a concussion right now.”

Marinette smirked.  “Mama used to say I’m too hard-headed to hurt my head on anything.  Tikki…?”

“Still in your purse.  Not sure if it’s safe for her to come out with our boy the way he is.”

“Agreed.  Hawk Moth might gain control of him and then he’d know…”  She paused then, thinking back to the reason she was injured.  “Plagg, those men who followed me back from Alya’s, what happened?”

Plagg looked to the white feline with a slight hesitation.  “I… I don’t know how he managed, but he has access to Cataclysm.”

The girl froze, eyes darting back and forth between the kwami and the teen in growing horror and realization.  She felt the bile rising in her throat, threatening, the thought of what he did nauseating to even begin to imagine.  She swallowed hard against the urge to retch.

“He… he… oh, god!”

“I’m sorry, toots, I couldn’t stop him.”

There was a quiet whimper from Marinette’s purse, Tikki keening softly in despair.

Sensing the change from her, Chat Blanc dropped his eyes from his task to meet her frightened gaze.  The hard amethyst of his eyes seemed to soften, if only for the briefest moment.  It let her know her Chat Noir was still in there somewhere, hidden under the layers of this feral seeming being.

“… afffrrraid…” he rumbled, speaking seeming to take great effort from the boy.

She swallowed hard.  “You… you Cataclysmed those men…”

He growled low, more at the thought of the men from earlier that evening.  He had followed Marinette from the rooftops, some deep part of him screaming that he knew her and needed to protect her.  So he had prepared to act when the men had fallen into step behind her.  They had attacked her, their intent clear from the smell of musk laying heavy under the rancid stench of alcohol.  Marinette had not had the time to crumple to the ground before he had dispatched the louts.

His kwami had yelled at him for the act, but he ignored him as he had cradled the unconscious girl in his arms, already leaping back to the rooftops to take her someplace safe.

“… hurrrt… Marrri…” he rumbled again to her statement.  “…prrrotect… Prrrincessss…”

Marinette blinked.

He had called her Princess.  This was Chat Noir’s pet name for her.

So he was truly still in there.

Carefully she rolled to her side to push herself up on an elbow, facing Chat Blanc.  Her head pounded painfully, forcing a groan from her lips as her free hand went to cradle her head.

The akumatized boy rumbled low, a hand hovering near the one on her head, but not daring to touch her.

“I’ll be okay, Chat,” she told him softly.  “I just need to go home and rest.”

A harsh growl cancelled that idea.  “… rrressst herrre…”

She frowned at him.  “No, I’m going home.  I can’t stay here.”

“… ssstay…”

“I need to go home.”

He matched her frown.  “… prrrotect herrre…!” he insisted.

“I need to go home.”

“… ssstay…!”

Marinette exhaled heavily.  “God, you’re just as stubborn akumatized as when you’re just my Chat!  Fine!  I’ll stay.”

He sniffed a smirk almost proudly at having won this argument.

“Dumb cat,” she accused lightly, unable to hide her grin.

Truth be told, she couldn’t be mad or scared of him, no matter how much she justified that it was perfectly fine to be so.  Everything he had done so far was to protect her.  As much as it turned her stomach that he had used Cataclysm on civilians, he had saved her from their attack.  At this time she would have probably been drawing her last breaths in that alleyway, beaten and raped.

A shudder gripped her at that thought.

Chat Blanc saw the tremor, pausing to stretch his senses to feel the area just past their little corner.  His rational mind had been amazed at what he was capable of in this near feral state.  His hearing was sharper, his sense of smell more acute, and he had developed a sort of sixth sense that he willingly followed blindly.

These new abilities allowed him to feel the colder than cool temperature within the warehouse he had chosen as his lair.  He could withstand these temperatures easily, but she certainly couldn’t.

He pointed a sharp claw directly at her nose, making sure he had her undivided attention.  “… ssstay…” he ordered.

And before she could blink, he dashed off.

“Where’s he going?” Tikki questioned, finally emerging from Marinette’s purse.

“It’s cold in here,” Plagg supplied.  “If he wants her to stay here for however long he’s akumatized, he knows he needs to get her something to stay warm.”

The red kwami’s shoulders sagged slightly.  “He’s going to steal blankets, isn’t he?”

The black god shrugged.  “Maybe from his own room, maybe from somewhere else.  It’s hard to predict him when he’s like this.”  He sighed heavily.  “Maybe I should have gone with him.”

Marinette stared off in the direction Chat Blanc had gone.  “Hopefully neither he nor anyone else gets hurt in the process.”

*    *    *

It was almost midnight and neither Tom Dupain nor Sabine Dupain-Cheng had heard the apartment door open, signalling that their Daughter was home. 

This worried them.

She had not called or texted to say she would be late.

The parents lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, straining their ears to catch any little noise that would let them know she was back.  Tom twiddled his thumbs nervously, trying to pre-occupy himself.

They were good parents afterall.  They had taught their Daughter how to take care of herself on the streets of Paris if ever she was caught out at this hour.  She trusted them enough to call them if she got over her head.  And she trusted them not to call every few minutes to demand where she was.

But they were her parents and parents who cared about their children worried.

A muted thud was heard from above them, in Marinette’s room.

“Did she come home already?” Sabine asked.

“I didn’t hear the front door,” her husband replied, already climbing out of bed and moving towards their bedroom door.

Cracking it open just a bit, he peered out into the dark apartment.  He caught a flash of white from the stairs to the loft shortly before he heard the fridge open, its dim light illuminating part of the space beyond.

The light went out and the white form moved towards the main door, heading to the bakery.

Tom recognized the shape of the intruder, a hand curling over the handle of an oversized rolling pin he kept close in case of home invasions.

“Tom, what is it?”

“It’s Chat Noir, but he seems to be akumatized.  He’s all white and he seems to be raiding our place.  He just went to the bakery.”

Carefully he moved out of the room towards the main door, feeling Sabine staying close behind him.  There was no use telling her to stay behind.  He knew full well she was more than capable of defending herself against any akuma with the kind of training she had received in her youth.

They could hear random rummaging noises coming from the bakery, recognizing the sounds of baskets and flour sacs being knocked over.

Tom’s free hand closed over the door handle and he paused, taking a bracing breath.

He burst through the door with a dramatic shout, swinging the rolling pin at the intruder.

Only to have it land with a smack in the palm of Chat Blanc who never flinched under the weight and strength of the large baker.

Tom blinked at the sight.

The telltale magenta eyes of an akuma victim were there, but this was not the same Chat Blanc that had terrorized the city for a few hours some time ago.  He didn’t seem to want to attack, purple eyes flicking back and forth between the two.  At his feet was a pink comforter and a number of baked goods.

And no matter how much strength Tom put into getting his weapon back, Chat Blanc held firm as if the much larger man possessed no strength.

“What… what are you doing here?” Sabine demanded, moving to place the counter between herself and the scene before her, just in case he tried something.

He spared them both a long glance.  “… fffood… blanketsss…” the feline rumbled.

“Why?”

“… Marrri…”

Tom released the rolling pin, letting Chat Blanc hold its full weight with ease.  “Marinette?  She hasn’t come home yet.  Do you know where she is?”

“… sssafffe… cold…”

“You should bring her back here then,” Sabine urged.

The cat shook his head at them, flattening a clawed hand to his own chest.  “… prrrotect…”

“We can do that here,” Tom countered.

A menacing feline growl escaped Chat Blanc throat, eyes narrowing at the imposing man, showing him no sign of fear.  “… prrrotect…!” he repeated.

The baker frowned, feeling his defensive Father-nature rise to the forefront to protect his Daughter and family.  “Are you trying to say that I can’t protect my own child?”

Chat Blanc lunged forward enough to get in the man’s face, hissing viciously, eyes narrow and ears flattened back.  Tom wisely backed away, more in surprise than fear, hands held up in surrender. 

Off to the side, Sabine lightly tapped the countertop in silent thought.  She knocked on it once, coming to a decision and to capture the two men’s attention.

“Right, Tom, go grab that baguette basket in the back, please,” she ordered as she took the comforter Chat Blanc had dropped on the floor and began folding it, not missing the fact this was the comforter off of Marinette’s bed.  A few food items grabbed from the kitchen tumbled out.

Momentarily conflicted, casting a quick glance between his wife and the akuma victim, Tom backed away into the kitchen to get the basket.  Sabine placed the folded item in the bottom once he placed it on the floor, retrieving the other food stuffs that had fallen out to stack them inside.

“Go get a couple of demi baguettes and that wedge of cheese we had at dinner,” she instructed.

“You sure you’ll be okay alone with him?”

“Tom, if he had wanted to hurt us, he would’ve done it by now.”

“He has Marinette.”

“And you heard him, he’s protecting her.  He held on to that rolling pin without so much as a twitch, even with your weight and strength behind it.  We‘re in no position to stop him.  Ladybug will no doubt find them and de-akumatize him back into Chat Noir before long.  Until then, there’s nothing else we can do except let him do this.”

He looked over at Chat Blanc watching them expectantly.  “I guess feeding him isn’t going to hurt anything.  And you can’t fight very well if you’re fighting a food coma too.”

“Exactly!” she smiled.  “So we pack up the goodies we know Chat Noir likes, along with the demi baguettes and cheese for Marinette.  Maybe some of that saucisson sec too.  And plenty of water bottles.”

Chat Blanc was confused as he watched them both race around the bakery with sudden smiles on their faces.  If they were planning something against him, he had no idea what it was.  Especially seeing as they seemed to be helping him by packing up that large wicker basket.  Truth be told, carrying all of it back to his lair this was would be infinitely easier than his original plan… or lack thereof.

A crack of thunder made him turn his attention away to the large bakery windows.  He had smelled the rain on the air all the way here, had felt the building static charge on the hairs on the back of his neck.

“Oh, dear…” Sabine had exclaimed softly at the sound of rain beginning to pelt against the glass.

Tom quickly retrieved a couple of garbage bags and tucked them in and around the basket’s contents, ensuring a waterproof covering for everything.

“There!  That should keep everything dry until you get to… well… to where ever it is you’re going.”

Tom cautiously handed the basket to the white feline who hefted its weight as if it were nothing.  A low rumble escaped his throat in thanks to the couple and he backed towards the door.

“Chat, wait!” Sabine called suddenly.

The desperate note in her voice cause him to pause and look at her.

“Keep our little girl safe?  Please?”

He cocked his head to one side at their concerned expressions.  “… Marrri… sssafffe…”

Tom and Sabine watched him duck out the door and, with a running leap, jump to the rooftops.  There was a flash of lightening and he vanished from sight.

“You sure leaving Marinette with him is the right thing to do?” Tom questioned, his Daddy Alarms blaring deep within him.

“If Chat Noir is anything, he’s a hero.  Even akumatized he couldn’t bring himself to hurt anyone.  This time he looks different, but I have to believe whoever the boy is behind the mask is still there.  He has never and would never hurt Marinette.”  She peered out into the rain hopefully.  “I have to believe he’s still I there.”

Tom pulled her close to his side, an arm around her shoulders.  “I hope you’re right.”

*   *   *

Marinette’s head had started to pound again.

She had decided to have a look around her surroundings, to try to figure out where Chat Blanc had brought her.

By all appearances, it was an abandoned warehouse of some sort.  She couldn’t hear a lot of traffic from outside, but she heard what sounded like trains nearby.  It didn’t help her situate herself, within Paris itself there were six large train yards, not to mention the countless more outside the city limits.  She could easily be within the city circle or Pantin, Clichy, Levallois-Perret, Bagneux, Bercy, or even Ivry-sur-Seine.  Or even further in Les Gondoles.

And that was when her head had started to ache, remembering those locations from a map she had studied when she had first become Ladybug.  She had wanted to be prepared in case an akuma took them to areas away from the arrondissements.

But now remembering all those places was making her injury throb painfully, making her cradle her head in one hand.

“You okay, toots?” Plagg questioned gently.

“Yeah, guess I hit my head a little harder than I realized.”

Tikki flitted to the mattress to retrieve the handkerchief Chat Blanc had used to clean her Chosen’s wound.  Carefully, the little red being pressed it to Marinette’s forehead, hoping to alleviate some of the pain.  Marinette took it from her, holding the cool fabric to her skin, and smiled in gratitude.

“You should get that looked at the first chance you get,” Tikki advised.  “Chat Blanc did a good job cleaning it, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you really did have a concussion.”

“Sure is starting to feel like it,” the girl groaned.

“Told you that bump was bad,” Plagg smirked, concern visible in his eyes.

“I’ll know to listen to you next time, Doctor Plagg,” she quipped.

She allowed herself a moment more of the damp cloth against her brow before pulling it away.  Curiosity got the better of her and she looked at the cloth.  It wasn’t a scrap of something as she had originally thought, something Chat Blanc had torn from somewhere to treat her wound.

It was a handkerchief.

An expensive one from the fine linen beneath her fingers.

Her thumb brushed over something raised in one corner, no doubt a monogram.  Fine items such as these usually carried one.  Flipping it over she two intricately stitched letters in green silk thread:  A.A.

Marinette blinked, her mind starting to connect dots she never knew were there.

One would always disappear before the other would arrive.

Never were they ever in the same place at the same time.

Both had the corniest sense of humour and love of cheesy puns.

Same height.

Same build.

Same voice, now that she thought about it.

Only the eyes were different, if not the same color, but who knew what the Cat Miraculous changed in him.

Her eyes raised to Tikki and Plagg who were both regarding her and the cloth in what seemed to be growing unease.

“A.  A,” she voiced to them.

Tikki worried at her bottom lip as Plagg unconsciously wrung his paws.

“This belongs to Adrien Agreste… right?” she pressed the kwami.

The kwami looked at each other, trying to figure out what to say.

“Chat Blanc… is really Adrien… right?” 

Marinette could feel the twinge of a panic attack coming on as realization began to dawn, the dots all lining up perfectly like little soldiers pointing out the numerous clues.

“Um…” Plagg began, hoping the words would magically come to him.

“And since you’re with him,” she pointed to the black cat, “Then that means… oh, my God…”

“Marinette, breathe,” Tikki instructed at the panic flitting across the girl’s face.

“Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir, ” the girl hushed.  Her eyes screwed tight with a low groan.  “All this time… I’ve been pushing him away…  Him!  And I never saw…  Never made the connection…”

“In your defence, Marinette, you weren’t really looking to make the connection.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better about all this,” she frowned at her kwami.  Marinette closed her eyes again with a deep calming breath.  “Sorry, Tikki.”

“It’s alright, Marinette.  It’s not like Plagg and I haven’t gone through some form or another of the revelation… though, this is truly one of the more, um, interesting ones in a long while.”

“More interesting than Aleksandrya and Aristaeus?” Plagg smirked.

Tikki actually paused in consideration, thinking back at these ancient Chosen, and then shook her head.  “Close second… maybe,” she returned his smirk.

“All this time…” the kwami heard Marinette breathe to herself, watching as she cradled her throbbing head in one hand.  “Adrien was Chat all this time… was with me all this time…”

A scraping on concrete and a thud caused them all to jump, peering through the dark towards the sounds.  Magenta eyes were glowing not too far away, taking in the three of them.

Three of them!

Marinette snatched Tikki out of the air, clutching her protectively to her chest just as Chat Blanc dashed up to them.  A low feral growl rumbled in his throat, coming almost nose to nose with the girl, rainwater dripping from his soaked hair to seep through her capris.  Feline eyes dipped to the kwami in her hands before returning to her face with a deep scrutiny.  She could almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes, his primal akumatized mind trying to put pieces together.

She had to distract him.

“… A- Adrien…?”

He visibly flinched away as if struck.

Slowly she tucked a hand behind herself to safely release Tikki away from Chat Blanc, all the while keeping her gaze on the boy.  She reached out to him, but did not touch him.

“It is you,” she continued.

He growled low, almost a half-hearted warning.

“Let me help you… please.”

For a brief moment, he met her gaze, and then he huffed at her before dashing off into the shadows.

“Chat!” she called out, afraid he was leaving again.

But he reappeared in front of her a heartbeat later, a large basket held on one arm.  He wasn’t particularly gentle putting on the ground near her, but he was careful enough not to just drop it.  Chat Blanc crouched down, keeping the basket between them, and pulled off the garbage bags covering the contents.

Marinette felt her stomach start to rumble as the scent of bread and pastries reached her nose.  She recognized the shape of the items within, seeing her parents flourish in baking in each of the baked goods.  Each were grouped by kind in their own individual little baskets or bags.  Beneath it all she recognized the comforter from off of her bed.

“You went to my home?” she questioned.

He only sniffed in response.

“My parents, you didn’t…?” she asked with some trepidation.

Fear that melted away when he shook his head, rain spattering from his soaked hair.  He hadn’t harmed them.  Marinette peered into the basket, reaching in to start pulling items out in a kind of inventory.  By the sheer amount and variety of things, she could almost see her Mother’s influence in the selection.

“Don’t suppose there’s any cheese in there?” Plagg questioned.

“Or cookies?” Tikki ventured from a safe place behind the girl’s shoulder.

Marinette felt herself smile.  “You’d think Mama knew you guys existed or something.”  She held up a cookie over her shoulder for her kwami to take before handing a hunk of cheese to the God of Destruction.  “It’s not Camembert, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t worry about it, toots.  As much as I adore my gooiness, it’s not the only thing I’ll eat.”

She smirked.  “To hear Chat talk about you, you’d think it was.”

Chat Blanc moved closer on his hands and knees, peering into the basket with wide eyes, curious at its contents and the sweet scents wafting from it.  For a moment, Marinette kept an eye on him as she unloaded the items. 

Part of her was screaming.

This Chat Blanc was Adrien.

But by the fact that the black cat kwami was here too, insisting on staying with the boy, that meant this was Chat Noir as well.

This was not how this reveal was supposed to happen, not how she had envisioned it.

Sure, she would have been lying to herself if she hadn’t even remotely imagined her partner being the man of her dreams.  Ayla’s little photoshop from nearly a year back had planted that seed of doubt.

A thought she had pushed to the very back of her mind just imagining Adrien as a goofy and pun-loving secret superhero.

The more she looked at Chat Blanc - at the messy hair dulled from their golden blond to an ashen color from the effect of the akuma, at the feline pupils now rimmed in a purple sclera - the more she started to see the Agreste teen.

“Adrien…?”

He blinked up at her sharply, ears folding back against his head.

“Adrien…” she repeated with more confidence.

He growled low.

“Oh, stop,” she admonished, seeing him cringe.  “Plagg pretty much confirmed it a few minutes ago.  And why would you hurt me now after you pointedly told me you wanted to protect me.”

One of his ears twitched up.

“Your looks kind of makes sense, now that I think about it,” she continued.  “You were akumatized as Chat Noir into Chat Blanc and you generally looked the same… not that you’d remember that timeline.   As Adrien, you would probably still hold on to some of the traits.”

He sniffed.

Marinette leaned on the edge of the basket, regarding him so carefully, before carefully reaching over to him.  Chat Blanc shrunk away from her hand and she froze, but did not pull her hand back.  This was just like dealing with a real cat.  She had to let him come to her, make him feel this was all under his terms. 

His ears were flat to his head again.  Magenta eyes flicked from her eyes to her hand repeatedly, unsure.

“Careful, Marinette,” Tikki warned in her ear.

One of the white triangles flicked upright again, a kind of curiosity entering his eyes as he stared hard at the kwami hovering just behind her shoulder.  It was as if his akumatized mind had finally caught up with everything he had seen to date.

“… My… Lady…?” he queried in a near purr.

She wanted to flinch.

Really not how she had imagined their reveal to go.

A small smile crept over her lips despite the worry that Hawk Moth might take control of him at any moment and learn her secret, and therefore force him to take her Miraculous. 

But the villain had left him pretty much alone in these last few hours, despite Adrien making no effort to draw out the city’s heroes.  She had to believe Adrien was stronger than Hawk Moth’s control, much like last time.

“Hi, Kitty,” she near whispered.

He hesitated for the briefest second before inching towards her hand.  Marinette held very still, fighting the tickling sensation as he sniffed at her fingers tentatively.  As if recognizing her scent, Chat Blanc pushed his face into her hand in a very kittenish rub.

She smiled, threading her fingers through his wet hair, suppressing a squeak of surprise when he suddenly pressed his face into her belly, rubbing his face and head into the fabric of her shirt.  He settled his arms around her hips to keep her close.  Somehow through her shock Marinette managed to bring her hands back into his hair, gently scratching at his scalp.

A chainsaw would have made less noise than the purr that ripped from his throat.

She swallowed her giggle, allowing one of her hands to drift over his stiff shoulders.

“I knew you could purr, Kitty,” she near whispered.

He harrumphed in attempted indignation, the sound nearly lost in the purr.

She continued to lavish attention to his hair and shoulders, hoping to work the tension she felt out of his muscles and get him to trust her more.  Perhaps then he could see fit to let her go.

“Who would’ve thought the kid was such a cat,” Plagg sniffed, gazing down at his lazing Chosen.

Tikki tittered softly.  “All of your kittens had feline traits.  Part of the reason you paired so well with them.”  The little goddess peered down at the contented boy before looking up to her own Chosen’s face, at the multitude of emotions flitting over her features.  “Are you okay, Marinette?”

“I think… I think I’m having a quiet freak out now.”

Both kwami smirked knowingly, keeping quiet to let her continue.

“All this time…  I never saw…  There were signs, right?  I mean, I couldn’t have been that blind… right?”

Still, they remained quiet, letting her work out her anxieties.

“He…  As Chat, he kissed my hand…  He calls me Princess…  Keeps… keeps visiting my balcony…  But…  But this is Adrien!  He… he doesn’t… we’re just… friends…” 

Her expression dropped at that final thought.

They were just friends as civilians, he had stated it often enough.  But he had also said as Chat Noir that he was in love with Ladybug, professing it to both her identities often enough.

Her mind began to reel.

Chat Noir loved Ladybug.

But Chat Noir was Adrien.

So, Adrien loved Ladybug.

But Marinette was Ladybug.

And Adrien considered Marinette just a friend.

And Chat Noir also considered her a friend.

Her head began to pound mercilessly once again, pulling a groan from her lips.

Immediately, Chat Blanc sprang up from her lap, ears pointed upwards in rapt attention.  Marinette couldn’t even find it in herself to react so much her head hurt.  She cradled her own head, willing thoughts to stop, even for a little bit to lessen the pain.

“… Purr-rr-rincessss…?” he purred in concern.

“I think… I think I need to lie down…”

He helped her ease back down to the mattress before he turned to the basket to start digging through its contents.  Marinette closed her eyes to ease the throbbing.  She felt one of his clawed hands carefully lift her head and slip a cushion beneath it.  She settled against it with a small sigh, recognizing the scent as being from her room.  Moments later he draped her comforter over her form, tucking in the edges around her with all care and attention possible.

As she started drifting off she became vaguely aware of Chat Blanc moving somewhere close by.  Cracking an eye open she saw he had curled himself possessively around her pillow, above her head, settling his head on his arms to watch her.  It was a protective posture.

Magenta eyes watched carefully as she reached over to thread through his bangs, pulling a purr from him as his eyes closed.

Tikki and Plagg landed on the mattress between them, keeping closer to Marinette than the akumatized boy.

“We’ll see in the morning if he’s more willing to let you help him,” Tikki ventured softly, curling around Plagg.

The cat yawned widely.  “The good news is ol’ Hawk Butt can’t akumatize anyone while the kid is still evillized.  So, until we find where the akuma is and purify it, the rest of the city is safe.”

Marinette allowed herself a small smile, closing her eyes.  “Small victories.” 

She allowed herself to toy with a few soft locks of his hair, feeling herself drift away into sleep.  Her mind was still working at reconciling the idea that Chat Blanc was also Chat Noir and was also Adrien Agreste, but lying down seemed to remove the larger part of the pain it caused her injured head.  She would need to find a mirror or reflective surface in the morning to check out just how bad it really looked.

Her last thought before sleep took her was, despite everything, she felt so incredibly safe.

Chapter Text

Miss Caline Bustier jumped ever so slightly as the door to her classroom burst open to allow Alya Césaire to rush in.

“Alya, the second bell has rung already.”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” the girl apologized profusely as she moved to her desk.  “I was at the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery to pick up Marinette and got some of the weirdest news that took me a while to wrap my brain around.”

“Is something wrong?” the teacher pressed, quietly noting the rest of the class was now listening attentively.

“Um… well… we’re not entirely sure…”

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, Marinette was over at my place last night so we could work on our History project and it was late when she left.  I couldn’t get her to text me back to see if she got home okay.  Turns out… um… she was kidnapped.”

A collective gasp arose from the room.

“Oh dear!” Miss Bustier breathed in horror.  “Who took her?”

“It was Chat Noir, but he Chat Blanc now... I guess.”

Whatever control Miss Bustier had on her class evaporated at that moment.  And she understood their reaction.  Akuma attacks were one thing, and after so long it was sad to say people were getting sort of used to them occurring.  These attacks also targeted single individuals who had wronged the akuma victim in some way.

But Chat Noir being akumatized?

Completely unheard of.

And he had Marinette.

What had she done to merit this fate?

“How can you be sure its Chat Noir akumatized and that he has Marinette?” a voice questioned just above the din.

Miss Bustier had half expected the question to come from Chloé Bourgeois, so to say she was surprised the question came from Lila Rossi was an understatement.  The Italian girl was usually more compassionate towards her classmates, always so interested in their lives, incredibly so.

The girl seemed to realize the attention had turned to her, and not necessarily in a positive way.  “I mean, Marinette has been really stressed out the last few weeks.  Maybe it all got to her and she just...  ran away?"

“Marinette would never run away from her problems!  And I got this from her parents and there is no way they would lie about this!” Alya near shouted, not believing the girl in front of her would even dare suggest something so preposterous about the baker’s girl.  “Chat Blanc raided their place last night.  He grabbed blankets and food, telling the Dupain-Cheng he was protecting Marinette.”

Kim frowned.  “Protecting?  From what?”

“They didn’t say, but Mister Dupain said Chat Blanc was very insistent in keep Mari with him to keep her safe.”

“Mister Dupain is huge; couldn’t he take on Chat Blanc?” Nathaniel asked.

“Missus Dupain-Cheng said he tried; came at him with one of those big rolling pins.  Chat never even twitched or looked like holding him off wasn’t a problem.  I mean, Chat is already pretty strong, but combine it with the power of an akuma…”

“Statistically speaking, his strength could be easily decupled with that combination,” Max supplied.  “It makes him a formidable foe for Ladybug.”

“But Ladybug would never fight against her own partner,” Sabrina continued.  “I mean, I kind of see why he did this, Ladybug would most likely hand over her Miraculous than fight Chat Noir.  But how did Hawk Moth manage to akumatize a Hero of Paris?”

“They’re both still human, even if they are superheroes,” Nathaniel explained.  “Hawk Moth got to each of us with something, I’m sure there’s something either Ladybug or Chat Noir want more than anything in the world.”

“That would explain why Hawk Butt re-akumatized Mister Raimier twenty-four, no, twenty-five times now,” Alya added.  “The man loves his pigeons and they pretty much get dumped on daily.  And he did re-akumatize Aurore.  And Max?  And Lila, what, three times now?”

“Only twice,” Lila corrected sweetly.

“No, pretty sure both Ladybug and Chat Noir confirmed it was three times.”  She missed the blink of a scowl from the Italian girl.  “It just goes to show you that people are not limited by who they are, or even a one-time deal.”

“Well, knowing Chat Noir like I do since I was Queen Bee for such a long time,” Chloé began confidently, “… he’s always had a soft spot for Dupain-Cheng.  I often think if it wasn’t for Ladybug, he’d be with her in a heartbeat.  Regardless of what caused him to be akumatized, I have to think maybe something happened last night after she left your place, Césaire, for him to become so protective of her.”

Ivan badly hid his wince at that.  “Yeah, not to worry you or anything, Alya, but our area of town isn’t all that safe at night anymore.”

Mylène nodded in agreement.  “Ivan has to walk me home at night after our dates.  There’s usually a couple of guys out at night looking for trouble, most of the time drunk too.”

Alya began to blink quickly as a scenario built itself before her mind’s eye.  “So, after he got akumatized because of… whatever, he started some sort of patrol and saw Mari leaving my place.  Maybe a couple of those guys you mentioned started after her?”

“Chat Blanc saved her and now his akuma mission is to protect her,” Juleka supplied.

“Oh, it would almost be romantic if it wasn’t so tragic too,” Rose wailed dramatically.

“Where do you think cat boy took her, though?” Alix questioned.  “The city is huge; he could be hiding her anywhere.”

Sabrina nodded, pulling up a map of the city on her phone.  “There are lots of warehouse areas on the fringes he could use as a base.  Or he took her to Hawk Moth to hide her in his lair.  I mean, none of us remember if we went to his hideout after we were akumatized, and seeing how long Hawk Moth has been in operation without anyone finding his lair…”

Alya struck her fist into her palm decisively.  “All the more reason to really start looking for him now.  We either find Chat Blanc and force him to give Mari back or find Hawk Moth and…”

Nino blinked at her.  “And what?”

“Well, maybe we get to put an end to his terrorizing the city.”

Lila made a vaguely dismissive gesture as she crossed her arms.  “I think we really should just let Ladybug handle this.  This is what she does, after all, so if anyone knows how to battle an akuma or track Chat Blanc, it would be her.  We wouldn’t want to get in her way or anything.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the assistance of individuals who could keep a lower profile than she can,” Max countered.  “We don’t need to be involved in any battles, but if we can find clues she could use and follow, we can become useful.”

Kim straightened at that, a hopeful expression on his face.  “Max is right.  We keep positive and Hawk Moth will never know what we’re doing to help Ladybug.  Plus, we all know he can only akumatize one person at a time unless he gets that Catalyst chick first, which is safe to say he didn’t this time around.  So, none of us risk being akumatized while Chat Blanc is up.  And we can spread the word to all of Mari’s friends not in our class.  They need to know what’s going on and I’m pretty sure they’ll want to help too.”

“I’ll send a text to Adrien to let him know,” Nino added, pulling out his phone. 

“Oh, I’m sure we don’t need to bother him.  I mean, do you really think he’ll be interested in all this?” Lila tried to dismiss with a small lilt of a laugh in her voice.

Nino frowned.  “Of course, he would!  Mari is one of his closest friends and my boy is always concerned about his friends when they’re in trouble.”

“We should send word to Kagami and Luka too,” Juleka supplied.  “They can get word out at their schools.”

“Good idea,” praised Alya.  “We should see if we can get Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and Nadja Chamack to spread the word on social media, get maximum coverage that way.”

“I’m sure they’re much too busy to be able to help properly,” Lila again tried to dismiss.

“Mari is their friend, and she babysits for Miss Chamack.” Alya stated.  “I’m sure they can take a few minutes out of their schedules to help us out in this.” 

“Lila, you have Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale’s contacts, don’t you?” Rose chirped.

“Of course, I do!” the girl was quick to confirm.  “I’m Clara’s emergency contact and Jagged loves me for saving his kitten.”

The tiny blonde smiled brightly at that.  “Right!  So, you should get in contact with them and explain what we’re doing.  They’d never say no to a friend.”

Lila felt a heavy weight settle uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach.  “Right…”

Alya clapped her hands decisively.  “Then it’s settled.”  She turned to their teacher, suddenly realizing the woman was still in the room.  “Sorry, I think we got carried away.”

“No, no need to apologize for this.  I’ve just sent a message out to the faculty to have them help too,” Miss Bustier smiled gently.  “Ladybug is on her own now that Chat Noir has been akumatized.  She’ll need all of our help.  The city owes her at least this.”

As everyone cheered in agreement, no one saw Lila scowl.

Marinette had been just enough of a hindrance to keep things from falling into place like perfectly aligned Dominos. 

And Adrien, as nice and complacent as he was, seemed to know when Lila was spinning one of her yarns. 

The two of them were just enough to keep her from taking complete control. 

In the last city her Mother had been stationed to, she had gained control of the school, and by extension the friends who didn’t attend that school, within the first week of her arrival.  She could have killed someone intentionally and someone else would have willingly taken the blame.

But at this school, the idolization of Ladybug and Chat Noir, combined with doubt borne of a healthy respect for their peers’ character, that task was made much more difficult.

With Marinette gone, the class was now quite a bit easier to manipulate and use however she wanted.  And Adrien would easily become hers without the constant interference of the class president. 

But he would need to be present or even available for her to weave her web.  She vaguely heard Nino say the Agrestes’ assistant had responded to his query.  Adrien would be away for the foreseeable future, as well as incommunicado, due to work commitments.

Well, now with both Marinette and, unfortunately, the Agreste teen gone, the class would be even more susceptible to Lila’s special brand of charm.

They were all so easy to turn. 

Just enough of a fanciful tale here and there and they were hooked to her perceived incredible life, never once questioning how she could do these things or know so many influential people. 

But with their insistence on helping Ladybug to find the girl, this threw a wrench in this fortuitous event. 

At least she didn’t have to worry about getting the star power of Jagged Stone or Clara Nightingale involved in the search.  Everyone believed she had their contact information and would be sending them a request for help later that day. 

Much as she would have liked to have been on either of their phone lists, Lila was farthest from being there. 

A simple and quick lie would cover her from that dilemma.  Something along the lines of they were just far too busy, or they couldn’t use their global social media platforms for something only involving the 15e arrondissement. 

It might hurt the pair’s popularity a bit, but they would easily recover.

Nadja Chamack, on the other hand, would definitely spread the word as soon as Alya would contact her, and that could spread to the other celebrities if they watched the woman’s show or social media platforms.  There was no viable way to convince that one not to help, seeing her existing relationship with Marinette. 

Lila could potentially plant misinformation here and there…

If there was one person Lila felt she needed to have to contact above anyone else, it was Hawk Moth.

With Chat Noir akumatized into Chat Blanc, she had little chance of attracting Hawk Moth’s attention and warn him of her class’s zeal.  One thing she had learned from watching the super-villain and being his accomplice several times, was that he could not use multiple victims at once.  The only way he had been able to do it last time was by creating a boosting akuma in Catalyst.

But he had akumatized only Chat Noir without creating his super-minion first.

Why he hadn’t re-created that victim was a mystery.  It had allowed for such delicious mayhem and had played into a plan she had concocted to swoop in at the last minute and defeat Hawk Moth at the moment he would grab Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous.

She would have become a hero then, all the while discrediting whoever the vaunted Heroes of Paris were.

To find out who Ladybug was. 

To humiliate her publicly. 

To take everything away from her.

That would be even sweeter than destroying Dupain-Cheng.

For now, she would go along with her classmates.  They were her only chance of finding Chat Blanc and getting word to Hawk Moth.

And he was her best chance to receive everything she wanted.

*    *    *

As her mind surfaced from a dreamless sleep, Marinette was vaguely aware of the sounds of birds chirping and pigeons cooing in the distance.  It took a moment for her mind to catch up to where she was and what had happened in the last few hours.

Attacked by a couple of men.

Knocked out.

Rescued by Chat Blanc.

Chat Blanc was Adrien, who was also Chat Noir.

A low dull throb behind her eyes pulled her fully awake, but for now she kept her eyes closed as she mentally pieced her new world together.

The alarm she set on her phone hadn’t gone off so either her phone was broken, lost, or out of power.  None of those situations were helpful.

Carefully she opened her eyes, feeling a slight sting at the back of them from the bright lights filtering in from somewhere. Immediately she noticed the absence of her white clad protector.  She raised her head slowly, fighting the heaviness and slight pain from what she still hoped was not a concussion, blue eyes scanning the wide-open space.

Nothing.

“How are you feeling, Marinette?” a tiny voice questioned.

Tikki floated into view, watching her charge in concern.

Marinette offered her a smile.  “I’m okay.  Where did Chat… Adrien… go?”

“I’m not sure.  He looked almost nervous before he took off.  Plagg went with him to make sure he doesn’t do anything dangerous.”

“What time is it?”

“Maybe closer to ten.  I’ve gotten rusty telling time by the Sun with the advent of clocks.  And your phone is out of power.”

“Mm, I figured as much.  Ten?  Class is probably in full swing right now.  Mama and Papa no doubt told the school I won’t be in and who has me.”

“Your friends are probably worried about you.”

“If Lila hasn’t told them a story to have them not worry.”  She sat up and folded the comforter into a more manageable pile before reaching for the basket of food.  “Have you eaten yet?”

“I had a cookie.  I should be good for a while.  Are you going to transform and go after Adrien?”

The girl reached for a croissant, tearing pieces from its softened crust to feed herself.  “I wouldn’t know where to start looking for him right now.  And how will he react if I don’t stay here?  He made it perfectly clear last night that I shouldn’t leave.  I want to avoid a feral Chat blow-up as much as possible seeing as I don’t know the extent of his powers in this form.  I don’t want to risk an event like in that other timeline.”

“Do you think he would destroy Paris?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out.”

“Agreed.  Eventually Hawk Moth will try to recover the akuma.”

“If he does, I’ll catch and purify it then, so he learns nothing from it.”

“Until then?”

“Until then…”  She chewed thoughtfully for a moment.  “We watch to see what was akumatized on him and continue to win Chat’s trust back, so he allows us to help him.”  Her hands dropped to her lap with a sigh.  “What would help is if I knew what happened yesterday with his Father.  What did Mister Agreste threaten him with that got Adrien so upset to be akumatized?”

“It must have been something bad.  Adrien is usually such a nice calm boy.  Plagg told me that he has self-meditation sessions he does ever few days, ever since becoming Chat Noir.  And he had all these games and sports where he can just vent.”

“But he never really has anyone to talk to when he’s home,” Marinette continued.  “Activities and meditation are all great and good, but sometimes you just need to talk.”

“Why doesn’t he text Nino?”

“I asked Nino that same question.  Turns out his Father has a tracking app of some sort on Adrien’s phone.  He sees all the texts and hears all the calls he makes.”

“That… that’s rather excessively controlling.”

“I had the idea of giving him a phone to use his Father wouldn’t know about…”

“But you got scared?”

Her eyes dropped to the ground.  “I couldn’t come up with a scenario of giving him the phone that wouldn’t come off as creepy in some way.”  She shook the self-disappointment away.  “But this is different.  I will help him in this no matter what.  No chickening out.”

A tall-tale scrape of boots on concrete caught her attention and Marinette looked up to see the white form of Chat Blanc trying to slink in the shadows.  Narrow magenta eyes watched her as he near glided in the darkness, fixed on her as if a predator watching prey.

As if she couldn’t see him.

She smirked to herself.

So that’s how you want to play, is it?

Marinette turned her gaze away, stamping down her smirk, making as if she hadn’t seen her stalker.  But Tikki saw the smile twinkling in her eyes and turned to the shadows, noting the feline creeping not too far away.  She smiled, feeling the playful aura surrounding him, knowing he was aiming to play more than to scare.

The little kwami couldn’t hold in her giggle.  “He is such a kitten.”

“That’s how I know my Chat is still in there somewhere.”

Chat Blanc abruptly dashed forward, turning at the last possible second to circle the girl before plunking down in a seated position before her, a smug smirk on his face.  Marinette responded to the rush by casually flicking his nose.  He yelped in surprise, and then scowled.  She merely giggled in return.

“So, what has the big bad Chat Blanc been doing all morning?” she questioned lightly.

He huffed a growl, then shoved his face to her stomach as he attempted to get comfortable in a half sprawl across her lap.  While amused at his antics, part of Marinette’s mind still screamed at her that this was akumatized Adrien and not just Chat Noir.  A dull throb settled around her forehead as a minor freak-out tried to take hold.

She closed her eyes.

Deep breath…

Count to ten…

Nothing has changed…

Calm…

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Plagg floating into view, a wedge of the cheese from the night before slowly being munched on by the tiny being.  His green eyes were fixed on his own charge, critical and a lot more patient than she imagined the kwami could be.

“He insisted on running the full circle of the inner city,” the God of Destruction groused.

“… purr-rr-rrowled…” Chat Blanc corrected, settling himself on his back so his head was cradled in the girl’s lap.

“Ran,” Plagg countered.

“… purr-rr-rrowled…!”

“You, kid, ran.  For what?  Pent up energy?  You looked pretty antsy this morning, at dawn no less.”

The akumatized hero blinked for a few long moments, thinking hard about his reasons.  “… fff-felt…” he struggled to find the right words.

Marinette peered down at him, noting the frown behind his mask.  “What did you feel, Kitty?”

“… bad… mmm-man…”

“Hawk Moth?”

He nodded, eyes wide that she understood him.

“You can feel when he’s trying to contact you… right?” she continued.

Another vehement nod.

“So… you ran off so he wouldn’t see me here, so he wouldn’t know and try to use me against you?”

Again he nodded.  “…prrrotect… Marrri… … My… Lady…”

She favoured him with a smile, gently scratching through his bangs.  “Clever Kitty,” she praised.

Magenta eyes closed happily, hands raising up to his chest level to paw at the air as a purr rumbled in his throat.

“So Hawk Moth doesn’t have control of him,” Tikki marvelled as she peered down from Marinette’s shoulder.  “How strange, but advantageous to us.”

“Must be the new akuma Hawk Butt was trying out,” reasoned Plagg.  “Nooroo’s butterflies are naturally white to begin with.  You know, pure, a blank slate.”

“The Butterfly Miraculous’s wielder is the one who influences the color of the akuma,” Tikki continued.  “Hawk Moth uses dark emotions, so the butterflies become almost black from the energy.”

“Like red for rage or blue for depressed?” the girl asked to which Tikki nodded.

“But this one yesterday…”  The tiny black cat hissed slightly.  “I don’t know, it looked and felt weird.  The feeling was negative, but there was something really off about it all, aside from the color.  It was a brilliant white, almost blindingly so.”

Marinette ran her fingers through Chat Blanc’s hair, rubbing firm yet gentle circles against his scalp, keeping the boy in this completely relaxed state.

“A white akuma used to akumatize.”  She pressed her lips into a thin line.  “I really wish we could talk to Master Fu about all this.  I mean, there must be some precedence to this, right?  Wayzz or Hiss might have more information.”

“We would go to the other kwami ourselves…” Tikki began, sharing a look with Plagg.

“But we don’t feel right leaving you alone with the furball right now.  Besides, I’m lousy with asking the right questions so I wouldn’t get enough out of them to help us.”

“And I need to stay with you in case you need to transform into Ladybug.”

“It’s alright,” Marinette smiled.  “We’ll just have to find whatever the akuma landed on and break it to release him…  Plagg, this has been bugging me since you mentioned it last night.  Yesterday, before Adrien was akumatized, what did his Father say or do to make him a target for Hawk Moth?”

The little god growled viciously.  “The only reason I don’t Cataclysm that sad excuse of a man’s ass into oblivion is because Adrien asked me not to.  Daddy dearest decided that Adrien clearly had much too much free time on his hands lately.  His schedule is all changed, he no longer has any free time, and his diet is now even more restrictive.  So much so that I’m sneaking him my Camembert to keep his strength up and I keep changing the hiding spots of my stash in case they search his room trying to find any food stuffs that aren’t on his new approved list.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely.  When all this is over, toots, start sneaking him some goods from your parents’ bakery.  The boy will need it and I know he’ll really appreciate it.  I certainly will.”

“Yeah, count on it.  I already commented as Ladybug me to Chat Noir him that he was much too thin.  I guess I now know why.”

“If that wasn’t all, that piece of work also decided that if he screwed up just once, didn’t matter to what extent, he’d be pulled out of school.”  He sighed heavily.  “The kid loves his friends and the freedom of school.  That threat really didn’t go over well, especially after the stunt that Rossi girl pulled yesterday.”

Marinette blinked at that, hearing Chat Blanc’s purr change to a low growl as if agreeing with his kwami.

“What did Lila do this time?”

“Somehow, the little liar managed to weasel her way into daddy dearest’s good graces, more than before.  He’s not letting anyone come to the house anymore on social calls unless it’s her, this despite the fact Adrien flat out told everyone in the house that she is not allowed in his room and that he doesn’t want to see her.  Even Chloé’s been blacklisted.  But I think you already knew that, what with her rant and raving about getting Mayor Daddy involved somehow in having that reversed.  What you didn’t know is Rossi’s telling the old man that everyone at school has it in for Adrien and is just after his money and fame, you more that others.”

She frowned.  “Well, I knew she had it in for me.”

“She almost has his Dad convinced you’re just friends with Adrien to further your designing career.  She tried to discredit your work, some song and dance about the Derby really being from her and you not knowing how to bake, but at least even he recognizes your skill.  Adrien feels isolated and hates that he’s being forced to hang around her on his rare free time.”

“But her latest stunt?”

“Spamming his Instagram as if it’s him, specifically targeting the media who follow him, and posting pic upon pic of her with comments about being his girlfriend.  I think maybe she duplicated his phone, I’ve been reading up on it when the kid’s sleeping.  Fascinating stuff, today’s technology.  Anyway. one of the worst ones:  she crawled into the kid’s bed and made it look like they had a hot and heavy session, complete with messed up hair and half off shirt.”

“She what!?” she shouted in shock, causing Chat Blanc to growl in displeasure.

“Nathalie is having a field day trying to kill this runaway scandal.  Rossi is making it out as if it was all his idea and that he started it all.  Thing is, we weren’t even in the house that day.  Kid had a photoshoot off-site and was told to leave his phone behind since it was hush-hush.”

Chat Blanc whimpered where he lay, making a move to turn away from the shame of it all. 

He had a vague memory of all of it happening, of the vile brunette who reeked of far too much acrid perfume invading his space, but hearing it just made him feel horrible that he couldn’t stop the wave of guilt.

Marinette wrapped her arms around him when she felt him try to move away.  He could feel the anger radiating from her, but he could feel he was not the target.  Her arms held him in a fierce embrace, refusing to let him go.

“Oh, Adrien, I am so sorry,” she sniffed softly.  “I knew she wanted to be with you, but I never thought she would go this far.  I didn’t know...”

Chat Blanc felt something wet fall on his cheek.  Craning his head up slightly he saw tears trickling down her cheeks.  A low keen escaped his throat, ears flattening back, saddened that what he had gone through had made her cry.

“I’ll fix all this,” she whispered fiercely.  “I promise, I’ll make all this right again.”

She met his eyes and saw the guilt swimming in them. 

“No,” she admonished gently.  “No, none of this was your fault, my Kitty.  Hawk Moth did this to you.  Your Father did this to you.  And Lila did this to you.  I forbid you from taking any blame in this.”

He blinked, ears slowly unfolding.  “… Marrri… prrrotect… Chat…?”

A sad smile appeared on her lips, one of her hands carding through his hair tenderly.  “Just like Chat protect Mari… always.”

The awed look he gave her near gutted her.  His eyes closed with a tiny contented smile, his loud purring beginning anew. 

“… Marrri… fffammmily…”

She brushed his bangs back to see his face, feeling touched at the trust that seemed to shine there, and pressed the gentlest kiss on the bridge of his nose.  The leather-like material of his mask felt warm under her lips.

Once the akuma was gone he would forget he even had this conversation, that she knew any of his hardships, or that he was supposed to know she was Ladybug.

It didn’t matter.

Marinette would know.

And she would fight the rest of her life if she had to in order to make sure he would never be hurt this way again.

*    *    *

Gabriel Agreste collapsed heavily in his office chair before removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.  He had been up since dawn, searching for his latest akuma victim, desperate for some progress with him.

He could feel someone else standing in the room, hear her quiet breath.

Nathalie Sanscoeur would stay silent until he spoke, it was her way.

Gabriel sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling.

“I may have made a grand mistake in akumatizing him,” he admitted to the room.

“Have you not made contact, Sir?”

“No, I have managed to contact him… and was very rudely rebuffed for it.  He learned this behaviour for his schoolmates, no doubt.  He was never this headstrong and stubborn before going to that school.”

Nathalie blinked at his comment about being rebuffed.

“Have you… have you lost control of him, Sir?”

He paused, mulling over her question.  “I may have, to a point.  I had researched the Butterfly Miraculous extensively before putting it into use, forced Nooroo to tell me everything he knew and could do.  This new type of white akuma was supposed to be more powerful, a greater challenge for Ladybug and Chat Noir.  The victim would be completely bent to my will, my goals would be their goals and the reason for their akumatization would no longer be a distraction.”

“And yet…” she prompted.

He sighed again with a slow bob of his head.  “And yet, Adrien is capable of defying my orders to tell me where he is or to return here.  He is actively and quite successfully refusing all my attempts to take control of him.”  He rubbed the back of his index to his upper lip in thought.  “I also find it confusing the akumatized form he chose was that of Chat Noir… or rather some white feral version of him.”

“Adrien is very much fixated on Ladybug and Chat Noir, Sir.  Perhaps wished that same power for himself for his plans when the akuma touched him.”

“Perhaps… I just wish I knew what it was he was planning.  I can’t even get him to tell me that.  His feelings of isolation and guilt were strong enough to attract my special akuma, but it never gave me the insight into what he planned to do with his newfound powers.  And what I can see through his eyes is different views of Paris’s skyline.  It’s as if he’s running in a long circle around the inner city.”

“Part of his plan may involve the Dupain-Cheng girl.  I received a text from Nino Lahiffe to notify Adrien that Chat Blanc had raided the Dupain-Cheng home and bakery for food and supplied, claiming to be protecting the girl somewhere.”

A small smirk appeared on his lips.  “Is he now?  How interesting.  This also explains Siñorina Rossi’s insistence that we keep Miss Marinette away from Adrien.  Teen jealousy of his fondness for this girl.  I always did like Miss Marinette.  She shows a strength of character and a high degree of creativity I have rarely seen.  And her sense of justice and morality are admirable.”  He had a pause in thought.  “When we finally resolve this matter, I want you to amend the list of approved individuals to this house.  Remove Siñorina Rossi in favour of Miss Marinette.”

Nathalie smirked, seeing through her employer’s plan.  “Siñorina Rossi will be most put out by that, Sir.”

“Yes, I expect she will be.  How unfortunate for her.”

“And fortunate for you, Sir.”

“She and Miss Bourgeois are capable of such a steady stream of akuma victims, but for different reasons.  Whereas Miss Bourgeois is fully convinced of her superiority and therefore need to crush people she deems beneath her in the most humiliating of manners, Siñorina Rossi’s approach is rather dangerous.  Lies may bolster ones image, for a while, but they tend to crumble which leads her to resort to threats to silence her detractors.  I thought keeping her close would enable me to use her just like she uses those around her, but she has proven herself far too dangerous to allow any kind of access to Adrien anymore.”

“And as for the restriction you placed on Adrien…”

“No, those were to have an immediate victim to test out the white akuma.  A failed test.  The white akuma is proving itself to be too difficult to use for the time being.  I will need do more research and I will require more mental training if I ever attempt this again.  Adrien’s restrictions can be lifted once this whole messy affair concludes.  I can explain that I was hasty in my actions, too worried about the optics of it all and less so about him.  Speaking of messy affairs, how is your progress with suppressing the latest lie Miss Rossi managed to feed the media.”

“Your legal team is doing a magnificent job reminding the tabloids that these are children and posting any story of a sexual nature involving them will be tantamount to disseminating child pornography.  No media outlet wants to be publicly accused of pedophilia.  This, after they refused to accept that this was the fabrication of an obsessed fan who managed to break and enter in order to live out a fantasy in Adrien’s empty bed while the household was away.  I will credit the media’s tenacity on this story by asking about the phone.  It was simple enough to explain to them that for some photoshoots, due to the secrecy surrounding certain exclusive lines of fashion, Adrien is not always permitted to bring his phone on location for fear an innocent picture may contain more details our competitors could use.  I have instructed them to verify with the Louvre as to our location on the day of that incident should they doubt the veracity of our claims.”

“Very good.  Then this unfortunate incident is concluded... for now.  Much better to concentrate on getting my Son back.”

“To lure him here, we would need something of value to him, I would think.”

“Yes.”  He put his glasses back on and slowly stood near one of the windows overlooking the Manor’s gardens.  “Hire a team of private investigators, the best to be had.”

“Sir?”

“I want them to scourer the city for any sign of Chat Blanc.  Make it seem as if we’re helping the police try to apprehend him.  Have them follow him back if they can to wherever he has made his lair.  Miss Marinette will be there.  By any means necessary, they are to bring her here, alive.  If he is protecting her as his classmate attested, he will follow her here to rescue her from mean old Hawk Moth.”

Nathalie had to smile at that.

Yes, that was most definitely the plan that would work.

“It may take them time to find his lair, Sir.  And there is no guarantee he will remain in the same place for very long.”

He huffed a bare chuckle.  “If anything, I am a patient man.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Chapter Text

Standing with a group of her friends at the bottom of the school’s main staircase, Juleka Couffaine turned at the sound of someone calling her name.  Just up the sidewalk she spotted the familiar mop of black hair with frosted green tips that was her older Brother’s, Luka.  He was racing up to the group, looking anxious.

“I got here as soon as my last class let out,” he told his Sister once he was near enough.  “Tsugari wanted to come too, but her Mother…”

“It’s okay, at least we have one more set of eyes to help look.”

“You said Marinette had been kidnapped?”

She nodded.  “Chat was akumatized into Chat Blanc, and he took Marinette last night as she was leaving Alya’s.”

“He showed up at the bakery to grab food and other things,” added Rose, worry in her large blue eyes.  “He told her parents that he was protecting her.”

Luka frowned slightly.  “Protecting her?  From what?”

“The area he took her from isn’t generally safe anymore at night,” Ivan supplied.

“And it could be anything,” Max continued.  “An akumatized mind is not necessarily thinking rationally so what a normal person would perceive as benign, Chat Blanc might see as a threat to someone he instinctively recognizes as someone he knows, a friend.  He may believe it is his duty to keep Marinette safe from all harm he imagines may befall her, thus becoming the driving force of his akumatization.”

Luka looked almost hopeful.  “So, you mean she’s okay?”

“Relatively speaking considering she is with someone under the influence of an akuma, but yes.”

“So, does anyone have a plan on how we track them down?  And when we do, what we do?”

“Well, when we find them, it’s rather simple,” Alix began.  “We have to call in Ladybug to deal with him, but we can find a way to get Marinette away from him at least.  Distract him and get her out and away.”

“Ladybug should be plenty distracting to Chat Blanc as it is,” added Kim.  “Hawk Moth will order him to get her Miraculous.”

“So, we swoop in and get Marinette out.  Okay, part of the plan down.  Now, how do we find Ladybug?”

All eyes turned to Alya and Lila.

Alya already had her nose pressed to her phone, scrolling through endless miles of comments on the Ladyblog to find some clue, remark, or response that could have come from Ladybug.  She knew how she spoke when writing, and she never used a created account, always opting for the anonymous feature.

A good idea to keep from being traced back to a civilian device by a rabid fan, or from having a tracer trojan file uploaded to her yo-yo and have same rabid fans track her around until she transformed.

Clever girl, Alya smirked.

But the blog’s comment section had nothing.

Just lots of fans promising to pass the word along to Ladybug if they saw her or keeping an eye out for Chat Blanc to find the missing girl.

“Ladybug hasn’t answered any post on the Ladyblog, and no one has seen her yet,” she told the group.  “I have no other way of contacting her apart from the blog.”

So all eyes turned expectantly to Lila.

Lila, who’s mind was running at a billion rotations a second to try to find something remotely plausible to say to remove this kind of attention from her in this.

Lila, who hated Ladybug with a passion, but who had made the mistake when she first started school to make sure everyone knew how great friends they were. 

How was she to know heroes paid attention to their own lives?

Lila, who in no way was ever going to help any of them track down Ladybug or, for that matter, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

The lie dripped with honey from her most reassuring tone.

“I haven’t had a chance to contact Ladybug yet, what with so many people around.  I have to keep the number to her direct line super secret in case anyone saw.  I’ll call her when I get home later.  I mean, with all the chatter online about Chat Blanc and we told basically everyone we know online that he has Marinette, no doubt she already knows and is already on the case.”

Luka felt himself frown at this girl while everyone around her seemed to agree with her reasoning.

Her explanation felt too… plausible. 

But how could something be too plausible?

There was just something that didn’t feel right about her.

The music that surrounded her was too loud, a cacophony of discordance that made no sense. 

The notes didn’t ring true…

He blinked.

There it was!

Nothing of what she said rang true because nothing of what she said was true.

Music didn’t lie.

Ah, so this was the little fanciful web spinner his bandmates had gushed about. 

Rose had been smitten by the stories, the hopeless romantic that she was for amazing lives, and Juleka had gotten dragged into them due to her affection for the petite blonde.  Ivan, the loveable lumbering giant that he was, was also pulled into this girl’s tales, just like his girlfriend, Mylène.

But Adrien hadn’t been sucked into the lies. 

The few times he had made it to their practices and one of the others started about another one of the girl’s stories, he had scoffed and tried to steer them to reason.

He had even pointed out the numerous time Marinette had pointed out the ludicrousness of some of those lies.

Without much success.

Obviously, this girl was good at weaving her yarns.

What was the name they used to call her?

The girl in question appeared suddenly in his line of few, a dangerously sweet smile on her lips as she stared up at him in what he could only guess was her attempt at being seductive and coy.  The music surrounding her made the look fail miserably.

“Hi!  I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”  She held her hand out to him in the sort of way one expects to have it kissed.  “I’m Lila Rossi.  No doubt you’ve heard of me?”

He gave her a quick once over dispassionately. 

Oh, yeah, he’d heard of her. 

“Luka,” he replied simply, never reaching for her hand.

There was a quick flicker of something in her eyes when he didn’t react the way she was possibly hoping.

But the overly sweet smile remained, her hand pressing to her heart.

“Luka!” she exclaimed in recognition.  “Right!  You’re Juleka’s older Brother, the lead guitarist in that band, Kitty Section.”  She took a step forward, invading his personal space, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention.  “I come from a long line of musicians myself, all the way to Beethoven himself.”  He caught her eyes flicking down quickly before fixing on his eyes, fluttering her lashes in almost exaggeration.  “And Jagged Stone is a close personal friend of mine.  I bet he would love to hear you play sometime,” she near cooed, drawing her fingers up his chest in what she no doubt thought was an alluring move.  “I could set up a meeting with him, the whole band or just you.  He absolute adores me, ever since I saved his kitten off of the airport tarmac from being sucked into a jet engine.”

The resonance was so off to his ears he very nearly winced in pain. 

And he knew for a fact that Beethoven never had any children, so being a direct descendant was impossible.

Therefore, her story about Jagged Stone was probably just as implausible. 

He didn’t remember any past article mentioning a cat, only numerous articles about the rocker being allergic to real fur of any kind.

He physically took a step back from her, a frown knitting his brows, and she blinked up at him in actual surprise.

“I’m here to help look for Marinette, not become your new boy toy,” he admonished her, keeping his tone even.

She looked genuinely surprised.  “But… I…”

“Save your stories for someone who actually believes them, Rossi.  I’m not interested.”  He paused before walking away.  “You might want to do a little more research into your tall tales.  The inconsistencies are starting to show.”

He smirked as he walked away, having heard her squeak in slight panic.

By not telling her which lie was the thin one, she would be wracking her brains long into the night trying to figure out which lie she would have to beef up.  Hopefully that would keep her from spinning any more yarns tonight.

He listened carefully to the rest of the group, noting how Alya was taking the lead role in coordinating the throngs of students ready to disperse throughout the city.  She was good at that, taking charge of situations and giving out orders without sounding dictatorial.  Marinette had once called her a force of nature, a hurricane.  He could see why.

Her instructions were fairly simple and straightforward:  Everyone was to head out into the areas where they lived and start canvassing people they came across; whatever information they garnered would be shared with everyone else via the school’s group chat room; they were to keep their eyes peeled for Chat Blanc and report back to the group via the same way; and, under no circumstances, were they to confront the akumatized hero.

Luka was pretty sure he could follow the first points, if not canvass more of the city due to his age.  His Mother gave her kids much more freedom to be out and about at any time of day, so long as their homework was done, and they didn’t get into any kind of trouble.

But he didn’t know if he would be able to follow the last rule about not confronting Chat Blanc.

Chat Blanc had Marinette; Luka had to at least try something if he could.

The music he had felt from Marinette had been captivating, innocent and full of hope and wonder. 

Juleka had told him how Marinette always wanted to help those around her, how she had stood up to the class bully in order to get Juleka in their class photo.  Even going so far as to convince the photographer to do an after hours shoot, just for their class. 

Rose had gushed about how kind and creative the girl was. 

Ivan had explained that Marinette was the reason he was with Mylène now, how she had encouraged him to write his girlfriend a song to express his feelings when he could hardly voice them. 

And Adrien constantly praised her when he spoke of Marinette, her skills and talent, the music in that boy changing to something more in tune to that of the baker’s girl.

That harmony often made Luka feel a pang of jealousy.

He knew Marinette had a crush on the teen model, but to hear their tunes match so closely when he wanted his own heartsong to intertwine with hers…

To be honest, it hurt.

But he would fight for her regardless, and if that meant going toe to toe with an akuma, so be it.

The group dispersed in all directions and Luka began walking across the square towards the Dupain-Cheng bakery.  Maybe he could get some inspiration as to which way to go by starting at the last confirmed sighting of Chat Blanc.

A harshness of sound reached the musical ear within him.

He didn’t have to turn around to tell him who was following him.

Luka blocked out her song and kept his eyes to the rooftops, ignoring Lila following a few steps too close behind him.

“If I was akumatized Chat Noir, where would I go?” he mumbled to himself, trying to put himself in the hero’s mental state.

“It really is hopeless, you know,” Lila answered.  “We should leave all this searching to Ladybug.”

A harsh chord blasted through his mental block and he winced, unseen by the girl.

There was a clear dislike of the red clad heroine in that one tone.

“Paris is such a huge city with so many places to hide in,” she continued.  “For all we know that stupid cat took her outside the city limits by now.”

She had a point.  Who knew how fast Chat Noir could really move under the influence of an akuma? 

But what he knew of Chat Noir, was that he was very much feline in his manners and thinking.  Cats never truly strayed far from their homes and rarely moved in a straight line, preferring to make use of roads and alleyways, or in this case rooftops, to make their slow treks from their starting point.  They never backtracked, always moving forward until they completed a roundabout way back to their point of origin.

So, had he reached the outer limits of the city?  Probably not.

Especially not with Marinette and a large basket of supplies to carry either.

“Marinette was always sweet on Chat Noir,” Lila spoke, unbidden.  “Regardless of why he’s really doing this for, she probably likes the attention from him.  You did know she was a little attention seeker, right?  Everything she’s always done was to be the center of attention.  She’s not particularly any good at anything she does, baking or designing.  I’m the one who has to correct just about all of her mistakes.  If it wasn’t for me the poor girl would be an utter mess.”

A deadly viper couldn’t have dripped more venom than Lila just had.

Luka kept his mounting anger and annoyance in check.  Hitting a girl, even one as deplorable as this Rossi teen, was not something he permitted himself to do.

Mentally entertain on the other hand…

There was a certain satisfaction to it.

“All I’m saying,” Lila pressed, seeing as she hadn’t yet gotten a reaction out of him, “With so many people out looking for Chat Noir, he’s likely keeping his head down.  The odds are of finding him, or finding Marinette, are very slim at best.”

A flash of white above them caused him to freeze.

Was that trick of the light?

“We got off on the wrong foot back there,” the girl against pressed.  “I know a wonderful little café just on the next block.”

Luka saw a white mass seem to materialize just up ahead.  “Shut up,” he muttered.

“We could head over right now, have some coffee, get to know each other properly...”

“I said, shut up!” he hissed, making her flinch.  “Look!” and he pointed to a rooftop.

Chat Blanc was crouched on the weathered tin roof, something flat and square held clenched in his teeth.  Magenta eyes scanned around him, but he didn’t take notice of the watching teens on the street below.  With a final swivel of his head, the white clad akuma bounded off.

“C’mon, we have to follow him!” Luka instructed with all urgency, dashing off to keep Chat Blanc in his sights.

“But I can’t run in these heels!” Lila complained as she half trotted after him.

“Then lose them!”  He was already gaining some distance from her.

“We have to tell Alya and the others we saw him!”

“You tell them!  I am not losing sight of him!  He’s the only way for sure to find Marinette!”

And with that he rounded a corner and disappeared from her sight.

Lila stopped her half-hearted jog with an angered growl.

From what she had gotten out of Juleka and Rose, this Luka boy was interested in Marinette.  He had been a means to be rid of the girl, to stop her chances of being with Adrien.

But he hadn’t reacted in any way she had predicted.

Verbally attacking Marinette didn’t cause him to come to her defense.

Trying to flirt with him had no effect what-so-ever.

Not even vaunting her skills or the contacts she had got his attention.

There was no reading to be had of this boy.

With a huff, Lila decided to let him have his chance at saving Marinette.  If anything, it might make her see him instead of being fixated on Adrien.  Perhaps she would see this as both heroic of him, and romantic, charging into danger to save his lady fair.

She looked at her phone screen, at the messages beginning to trickle in to the chat room from her schoolmates.

Lila smiled slowly from a thought.

Chat Blanc and Luka were heading West, so…

Her thumbs flew quickly over her screen as she typed a message to the chat room.

Luka and I spotted Chat Blanc.  He’s heading East out of the inner city from the Eiffel Tower.

The chat room exploded in gratitude and praises.

Lila could almost feel the city lurch to the East as people raced to offer help.

She looked to the West, to where the Sun was beginning to set behind the turn of the century buildings surrounding her.

Win or fail, she would still get what she wanted.

With a win, Marinette would turn to Luka as her saviour and Adrien would become Lila’s.

With a fail, Marinette remained out of Lila’s hair that much longer, letting her ingratiate herself to the teen model in the guise of offering comfort.

A proud smirk danced over her lips and she carefully tucked her phone into her purse.  With an arrogant flip of her hair, she turned and headed off towards the Agreste Manor.  She needed to find out where Adrien’s latest modelling job was so she could conveniently show up there.  He would be desperate for news on his friend.  It would be so easy to drop a few hints, make herself the perfect shoulder to lean on in his despair.

Long before Marinette would be found, Lila would have Adrien wrapped around her little finger.

She began to skip happily at that thought.

*    *    *

Marinette heaved a heavy sigh in the silence.

She was bored.

Chat Blanc… Adrien… had left a few hours ago, indicating in his own akumatized feral way that Hawk Moth was trying to get control of him again.  She had encouraged him to leave, Plagg holding tight to his shoulder to ensure he didn’t do anything stupid.

At the moment she had silently hoped Hawk Moth wasn’t strong enough to control her partner, that Adrien’s mind was too strong for him.

But after several hours, even she was starting to get worried.

And bored.

There was only so long a person could stay put, staring at the same interior of a dilapidated warehouse.

She had walked the inside perimeter of the building, testing doors, looking at too high windows and wondering if she could safely find a way to climb to them.  There was one door, but it seemed blocked from the outside.

She had even entertained unsafe methods of getting out, though Tikki managed to talk her out of it.  Not that Marinette could have anyway, any unsafe way of escape was still inaccessible.

And she would have transformed to escape, but then Chat Blanc would have come after her.  That would either result in a battle between them, which Marinette wanted to avoid at all costs not knowing what this version of Chat Blanc was capable of, or he would go to the bakery and perhaps destroy the place if he didn’t find her there, unintentionally hurting her parents, or he could go completely feral at finding her gone and very literally tear the city apart looking for her.

So, she returned to her corner and sat there.

“He’ll be back,” Tikki assured for what seemed like the thousandth time.

Marinette sighed again.

A familiar white form dropped from the support beams near the roof, magenta eyes fixed on her as he bounded on all fours towards her.  A thin rectangular shape was in his mouth.

“Gotta hand it to ol’ Fu, he really picked a winner with this Chosen,” Plagg praised, flying over towards Marinette to hover at her shoulder.  “Hawk Butt tried for over four hours straight to get control over Adrien, but he fought him off like a champ.”

Chat Blanc hopped in a comical fashion all around her, an overly proud smile on his face despite the item in his mouth.

Marinette could help but giggle at the scene he made.  “So where have you two been after all that?”

“Adrien wanted to make sure that was the only attack for now.  And he was trying to get something for you without being seen by all the cops hovering around your place now.”

“Something for me?”

In a very cat-like sit, Chat Blanc settled right in front of her, dropping the item in question in her lap.

A small gasp of wonder escaped her lips in recognition.

Her sketchbook!

She drew all her best designs and private dreams in that book.

He even remembered to snatch her sketching pencil.

“You brought me my sketchbook!” she breathed in wonder.

Tikki smiled.  “He probably knew you would want something to do while he kept you here.  As Adrien, he saw you with this book often enough at school.”

Plagg snorted.  “Ain’t that the truth.  He’s always been curious to see what’s in it when you start scribbling away.”

Awed blue eyes met Chat Blanc’s curious feline eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

His chest puffed out proudly, fangs gleaming from a toothy smile.

Marinette giggled at him, scratching him under the chin.  The purr was almost instantaneous.

“Who’s a good kitty?” she cooed at him, continuing the gentle scratches.  The purr increased in intensity.  “You’re my good kitty!  Yes, you are!”

He dropped boneless into her lap, the rumble in his throat as loud as a revving engine.  While threading the fingers of one hand through his hair, she busied her other hand along his spine, marvelling at the thin velvet covering his suit under her firm caress.  Some changes to his akumatized form had been blatant, while others needed this proximity to notice.

His claw tipped gloved hands pawed contentedly at the air, his closed eyed expression one of bliss.

“My poor Adrien,” she lamented softly, causing one of his eyes to crack open to her.  “You’ve had a hard couple of days so far.”

He made a sound halfway between a huff and a mew, rubbing his cheek to her thigh.

“You two are sickeningly cute together,” Plagg griped.

“Be that as it may,” Tikki admonished her counterpart.  “We still need to figure out what was akumatized.  There has to be something on him Hawk Moth used.”

Marinette blinked at a thought.  “It doesn’t have to be on him.”

Both kwami looked at her, waiting.

“Remember Dark Owl?” she continued.  “It was Mister Damocles’ computer, but Dark Owl was all over the city.”

Plagg cocked his head.  “You think it was something in his room?”

“Maybe.”

“It would have had to be in contact with him at the time,” reasoned Tikki.

The little black kwami furrowed his brows in deep thought.  “Framed pictures, phone, books, DVDs, basketball, fencing foils, trophies…  The kid’s got a lot of junk in his room.”

“So, we need to figure out if it’s on him or in his room still.  I don’t think there’s much chance he would want to go back home any time soon, is there?”

“Not a chance, Sugar Cube.  Right now, his Dad’s part of the reason he’s like this so anything even remotely associated with the man isn’t drawing up cozy feelings.”

“It’s not the ring?” Marinette questioned, already knowing the answer.

“I’d feel it if it was that, toots.”

The girl pursed her lips and examined the boy curled up in her lap.  “Well, apart from being more furry, feline and white, the only difference to his suit is the lack of pockets.  Still has ears, still has a tail, and still has the bell.”

“Now there’s a lack of practicality,” Plagg huffed.  “I gave the kid pockets to make sure he could grab an akumatized object and bring it to Ladybug to purify if ever she couldn’t get to him right away, and Hawk Moth goes and removes them from the design.  If anything, that makes him evil.”

Marinette chuckled lightly before her expression dropped.  “Well, I can’t really feel the akuma on him.  So that leaves something in his room.”

“We can get to his room,” Tikki began carefully.  “But we can’t touch the item, or we’d get corrupted too.”

The girl blew a puff of air at her bangs in frustration.  “Catch twenty-two.”  She rubbed her knuckles between his shoulder blades.  “I’m going to have to somehow convince him that I need to go there, find the item, and purify it there.”

“You risk running into his Father.”

There was no hesitation.  “For him, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Chat Blanc’s relaxed ears suddenly stood straight up, and the boy raised his head anxiously to look around.

“What is it?” she asked him.

He faced one shadowed corner where Marinette knew the only door was.  His ears flattened back as he got up on all fours, his stance both protective and intimidating.  The furred patches along his back and shoulders puffed to make himself look bigger; his pupils tightened menacingly through narrowed eyes.  A low feline growl rumbled in his throat.  Claws curled dangerously on the ground.

Before Marinette could question his reaction again, she heard it.

A grating of old metal on metal and the scrape of concrete.

Someone was coming?

In less than a blink, Chat Blanc disappeared from view.  Marinette knew he hadn’t run off in fear.  He was planning an ambush on whoever this person was.  And, with his current state of mind, his ambush would certainly be deadly.  She would have to keep her eyes peeled.

She kept her breath quiet to better hear around her, both kwami having retreated to her purse for the time being.

Footfall moved in her general direction in the dimness of the building.

“Marinette?” a voice called carefully.

She blinked, recognizing the voice.

“Luka?”

Emerging from a shadow she final saw him, noting the quiet relief on his face as he smiled at her.

The Couffaine teen almost laughed in joy at finding Marinette safe.  Even several meters away, he still noted the ugly bruise on her forehead, and his happiness faded somewhat.

She was hurt!

Who had dared to hurt her?

Had Chat Blanc attacked her?

“You’re hurt.”

“What?” she questioned as her hand instinctively rose to the bruise.  “Oh… No, I’m okay…”

He saw her blue eyes dart to something over his shoulder, her expression melting to one of fear.  Before Luka could even react, she leapt to her feet and dashed forward.  The boy half expected for her to run into his arms. 

Where that thought came from, he wasn’t sure. 

So it was with some surprise that he felt her shove him aside with no small amount of strength.

Luka stumbled a few steps before managing to recover.

How could someone so small be so strong?

He whirled around to be confronted by a strange and more than a bit terrifying sight.

Chat Blanc was glowering at him in all feral feline rage, claws bared and trying to reach for him, fangs gleaming dangerously.

And pressed up against his chest, doing her best to hold him back, was Marinette.

Nearly drowned out by the catlike growls, Luka could barely hear her cooing softly to sooth the akuma, whispering reassurances and pleas not to attack.  He could see Chat Blanc’s coiled muscles relaxing by tiny increments from the girl’s intervention.

Then Luka caught on something he heard Marinette whisper to the Akuma.

“He thinks he’s saving me from you, but I’m not going anywhere, Kitty.  I’m staying with you.”

Luka took a cautious step towards them in protest.  “Marinette…”

He never expected to see her fiery blue eyes glare at him.  “Leave, Luka, now.”

He frowned at her, confused at her sudden refusal to leave.  “I can’t leave you here.”

“You can and you will.  I won’t leave him like this.”

“This is Ladybug’s job, not yours.  Chat Noir…”

“This is not Chat Noir!”

Marinette blinked at herself, at her outburst.  She hadn’t intended on telling anyone, she had been intent on dealing with all this quietly.  Ladybug would have appeared when the time was right, the akumatized object would be destroyed, and the akuma would be purified.  No one would have known it was really Adrien.

Luka stared at her, curious, waiting.

The girl heaved a silent breath.  “It’s Adrien.”

“What?”

“This is not Chat Noir.  It’s Adrien.”

“But… but how?”

“From what I’ve been able to get out of him, his Father is the cause.  Mister Agreste put more restrictions on him and Adrien broke.  He had no one with him to help talk him down before the akuma got to him.”

“Your bruise… he hurt you.”

“This?” she pointed to her injury.  “He saved me from a lot worse.  This was caused by two potential rapists that he… took care of.  He never laid a hand on me.”  She looked up at the still raging Chat Blanc, near adoration in her eyes.  “He would never hurt me.”

“Marinette, this isn’t Adrien anymore,” he tried to reason, taking a step towards them.

Chat Blanc hissed, only restrained by the girl against his chest.

Luka quickly stepped back.  “See?  He’s dangerous.”

“Only to you because you’re trying to take me away.  Just leave, Luka.  Ladybug and I have a plan, but you need to go.”

“You’ve spoken to Ladybug?”

“Yes.  She knows I’m here and even she thinks I’m safe with him.”  She frowned at him from over her shoulder.  “You’re putting the entire plan at risk by being here.  Just leave, Luka.  I’m safe.”

Chat Blanc’s whole demeanor seemed to change at that, gazing down fondly at the girl before he wrapped his arms around her, nose buried in her hair.

“… Marrri… sssafffe…” he rumbled low.

Couffaine’s shoulders began to droop before he seemed to come to a decision, standing tall and determined.

“Ladybug’s plan or not, I’m coming back with the cops and getting you away from him.  I’ll be back for you.”

And then he turned and ran.

Tikki and Plagg floated up from her purse, watching the direction the boy had disappeared in.

“Noble as he might think he is, bringing in the troops is not going to help us any,” Plagg sniffed.  “My kid is fully capable of wiping out the entire city if he feels cornered.”

“Then we can’t stay here,” Tikki reasoned.  “If we stay, they’ll find him, and he will use Cataclysm on all of them… a lot like you did on Atlantis.”

“For the love of…!  How many times do I have to apologize for that?”

She allowed herself a smirk.  “I’ll let you know.” 

She flew over to where Chat Blanc was still nuzzling Marinette, seemingly oblivious to anything save her hands gently threading through his hair and toying with his ears to sooth him from his earlier rage.  The small being could hear a faint purr from the boy.  Tikki hesitated, biting her bottom lip, hating to have to interrupt this tender scene.  He was calm now, but he also needed to know they were no longer safe if they were to stay.

“Adrien,” she called gently.

Magenta eyes blinked in a drowsy humour, raising to the red kwami.

“None of us can stay here anymore,” she advised.  “It’s not safe here now.”

This got his attention, pulling Marinette tighter against himself.

“… prrrotect… Marrri…”

“Yeah, well, you can’t do it here, kid,” Plagg added, flying up next to Tikki.  “That boy who just left, Luka, is planning to bring reinforcements to take her away and take you down.”

“They’re right, Adrien,” Marinette supplied, drawing his attention back on her.  “They’ll try to hurt you to get me away.  They don’t know you would never hurt me; they just think you’re another akuma victim being controlled by Hawk Moth.  I can cure you of this.  I can purify the akuma.  But I know you need time.  This has to be your choice to make it easiest on you.”

He looked away with a sniff, but her gentle hand to his cheek made him look back at her.

“My kitty is always planning, always thinking two to three steps ahead of everyone, even when it doesn’t look like he is.  I know you have more than one hideout picked out.”

He only nodded.

“I told you, I’m staying with you.  Take us there.”

*    *    *

Ayla idly tapped the end of her stylus against her tablet’s screen.  She could barely keep her attention on Madame Bustier trying to teach the class.  Every so often she was cast a glance to the empty seat next to her, worry returning to gnaw a little bit more at her insides.

At the same time, she had a conundrum to try to reconcile.

During their searching the previous night, Lila had sent a text to the group that she had seen Chat Blanc heading East and that Luka was after him.

But upon meeting Luka later that evening he had assured her had been following the akumatized hero to the West.

Luka had no reason to lie about this, Alya knowing how he felt about Marinette.

But Lila didn’t have a reason to lie either… did she?

Could she have just mistaken directions?

But the Sun had been setting so figuring out which way was East, and which was West was simple enough.  Even Chloé knew how to figure out directions.

So, who had lied?

She thought back to the rest of the conversation with Luka.

He had found Marinette in an old hanger near the train station and she had looked well cared for from the basket of supplied he had seen near her.  But he had also confirmed she had been injured, telling Alya about the bruise on her forehead.

Marinette had confirmed it had been caused by two men Chat Blanc had rescued her from.

Marinette had also confirmed she had spoken with Ladybug about some plan to remove the akuma from Chat Blanc and this was part of the reason she was staying with him, telling Luka to leave.  She had kept Chat Blanc from attacking Luka through this conversation.

Alya and the search teams had sent the police to investigate the hanger later that evening.  They had found the mattress in the middle of the building, but Marinette was gone and so was the basket of supplies Chat Blanc had taken from the Dupain-Cheng household. 

Their first opportunity was lost.

Luka had also said Chat Blanc was not the akumatized version of Chat Noir.

It was Adrien Agreste.

Alya looked down to his empty seat at the front of the class as she chewed the inside of her lip.  That did explain his absence conveniently at the same time Chat Blanc appeared.

But there was the matter of the Agreste household telling everyone and anyone who asked that Adrien was actually away on a modelling job.

For anyone who didn’t know the boy well, that was a story that might hold up for a while.  But, as his friends, his continued silence would only make them wonder and pose the deeper questions.

What had Gabriel Agreste done this time to push Adrien past the fine line he walked?

She hated the man before, but now she was relegating him to the same level as Hawk Moth.

And to cover all this up as if it were nothing, was he really so worried about appearances that Adrien’s akumatization had to be kept hidden?

The bell signalled the end of class and Alya blinked.  She had wasted the entire class thinking about the recent developments.

“You’re going to get frown lines from thinking too hard,” Nino accused lightly, rising from his seat.

Alya sighed heavily.  “I’m just having trouble putting things together, so they make sense.”

“Like?”

“Why Gabriel is lying to everyone about where Adrien is.  Luka saying he went West when Lila texted everyone saying they were heading East mostly.  I mean, Luka would never lie about anything related to Mari.  But then neither would Lila… would she?”

Nino opened his mouth to answer when a voice cut him off.

“Who would what?” Lila appeared between them, an innocent smile on her face.

The reported blinked, suddenly uneasy.  “Just… just wondering why Ladybug would ask Marinette to stay with Chat Blanc,” she lied, throwing a look at Nino to not say anything.  “I’m trying to figure out why.”

She thought she saw a flash of something in the Italian’s eyes at the mention of Ladybug.

Lila giggled lightly as if trying to change the mood.  “I’m sure Ladybug has a plan in place.  We just have to trust she knows what she’s doing.”

“I guess,” Alya reluctantly agreed.

“I think Marinette likes all this attention she’s getting now anyway, and that’s why she agreed to stay with the akuma.”

“What?” both Nino and Alya questioned at once.

“I have noticed that she’s always looking to be the centre of attention with everything she does for everyone.  I mean, if it was me, I would have tried calling my family, my friends, the police about where I was.  She has her phone with her.”

Alya shook her head.  “She told me her phone was five percent when she left my place that night.  And she didn’t have her charger with her.”

Nino nodded, thinking it through.  “Given how much time passed, her phone’s been long since dead now.  She wouldn’t be able to call or text anyone even if she tried.”

“Well, I guess that’s a valid reason.  Oh, I got in touch with Adrien last night!  Poor boy was an absolute mess knowing one of his friends was kidnapped by an akumatized Chat Noir.”

Alya felt the bottom fall out of her stomach.

There was no way she spoke to Adrien since…

No one told her yet that he was…

She didn’t know…

That was a flat out lie!

“He really wanted to be able to help, but he’s stuck at his modelling job for god knows how long on the Mediterranean coast.  I reassured him we were doing everything we could to help Marinette and get her away from that akumatized monster of a Chat Noir.”

Nino looked to his girlfriend for guidance, knowing the truth, but unsure if he should confront their classmate or remain silent.

“Ye-yeah,” Alya managed.  “I can imagine how much of a wreck he must be.  He really cares about Marinette a lot.”

Lila chuckled.  “Not that much.  He told me he thinks of her as just a friend, definitely not girlfriend material.”

Alya fought hard against her eyebrow wanting to arch skeptically.  “He told you this last night?”

“It came up in our conversation, yes.  We ended up talking for hours and hours after I told him about all the great photogenic places along the coast he should try to convince his photographer to use.  He said when this whole messy affair is done he’d really like to make us public.  You no doubt saw those pictures he sent to the media and Instagram a little while back.  I told him he really shouldn’t have, but the boy is so far gone in love with me, well…” and she shrugged casually, still smiling.

The reporter’s grip on her phone tightened to the point she was sure she was going to crack its casing.  She didn’t say anything about having already spoken with Nathalie about those pictures and how Adrien hadn’t even been in the house the day they were taken.

Another lie.

“Well, glad you got to talk to Adrien about this.  Hey, Nino and I are going to be late to out next class, we gotta go.  Bye!” and she grabbed her boyfriend’s arm, dragging him off quickly.

Then, when they were safely in their next class and seated at their desks, “She lied!” Nino hissed.

“I know!” she returned, visibly shaking from mounting fury.  “I’m fighting every instinct right now telling me to rip her to shreds.  God, Mari was right about her, she’ll lie to keep everyone orbiting her like some all-consuming black hole.”

Nino blinked.  “Mari never said that.”

“I’m paraphrasing… and maybe exaggerating… a bit.”  She growled in frustration.  “If it wasn’t for the fact we know Adrien is Chat Blanc, we would’ve gobbled up her story just…”  Her anger faded to dreaded realization in the blink of an eye.  “Just like all the other lies she’s told us since arriving in Paris.  Oh crap…”

Her boyfriend came to the same conclusion instantly.  “We owe Mari the biggest apology for basically calling her a jealous flake.”

She groaned heavily, her whole posture slumping.  “All those supposed testimonies, all those interviews after akuma attacks…  I have so much fact checking to do… that I should have done to begin with.  What is wrong with me?  I believed her over my best friend.  What kind of person does that make me?”

“I’ll assume you’re being rhetorical.  But the whole class is right there with you.”

“Difference is we know now, and the rest of the class doesn’t yet.”

She laid her hands on her desk, staring at them for a moment.  Lila had duped her with a few colorful tales, to the point that the more colorful ones were just as easily swallowed up with the exaggerations as if they were absolute fact.

An akuma couldn’t have done better.

Mentally she started ticking off everything she would need to verify.

The tales of knowing Spielberg, Astruc, Lucas, and Waititi.

Her story about Jagged Stone’s kitten almost being swallowed by a plane engine.

Her medical issues and injuries that prevented her from carrying even just a textbook.

Her numerous allergies that prevented Marinette from bringing free pastries to the class.

Being Clara Nightingale’s best friend and emergency contact.

The songs from musicians who were supposedly enamoured by her.

Being close personal friends with Ladybug.

Just how many were lies?

Were they all lies?

“One problem at a time,” she finally voiced as other students began taking their seats.  “We need to focus on getting Mari back and helping Ladybug de-akumatize Adrien.”

“What about Lila?”

She pursed her lips.  “For now, we do nothing.  We need to publicly catch her in a lie, more than that fib about Adrien back there, but Mari is more of a priority.  We keep our eyes peeled for more of her lies through this anyway, and maybe be the voice of reason to those she lied to after she leaves so she doesn’t try to shore it up somehow.”

“But confrontation comes later.”

“Oh, you better believe it.”

“Good, because I have beef with her about promising me all those one-on-ones with David Guetta and Waititi about the biz.  So now that Adrien left the hanger, where do you think he took Mari?”

“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?  There are so many places in the city, so many abandoned locations or places in the middle of stalled renovations…  How do you find someone currently with the abilities of Chat Noir who just doesn’t want to be found?”

“My other thought is what did his old man say or do to turn our boy?  His Dad is a total piece of work, I know that, but Adrien is such a sunshine child that it shouldn’t have mattered.”

“This is true.  Out of the whole class, he and Mari were the only ones who hadn’t been akumatized.  I’m thinking for Mari, ol’ Hawk Butt would have to force the akuma down her throat for it to have a chance to take effect.  She’s probably a prize he do anything to get.  But Adrien…?  He always walks such a fine line and never trips over it.”

“I know.  He thinks the best of everyone and everything.  How else could he tolerate Chloé for so long?”

“Might be something cumulative then.  Something Gabriel said or some new rule he imposed, on top of that photo spread I’m now thinking Lila sent from his phone to the media.  Nathalie did say he was out on a photo shoot when they were supposedly doing the do.”

Alya looked to the window, to the dark clouds covering the sky and the thick raindrop beginning to pelt the window panes.

“Wherever they are, I hope he got Mari someplace dry.  Météo is saying that’s going to get worse and go on all week.”

“I’m sure Adrien will take good care of Mari.  He can deny it all he wants, but I see it.  She’s more than just a friend to him.”

“Your mouth to his ears, Nino.”

*    *    *

Lila sat on her bed, staring at the email she had just received from that Agreste dragon lady of an assistant, Nathalie Sanscoeur.

She had read and re-read the correspondence over and over again, looking for some hidden meaning or some other way to interpret what was written or some hidden code she had to decipher.

To no avail.

It was pretty cut and dry.

To Miss Lila Rossi,

In light of recent circumstances, your access to the following has been revoked:

• Agreste Manor
• Any and all engagements hosted or supported by Agreste Design
• Any and all photo or publicity engagements hosted or supported by Agreste Design
• Gabriel Agreste
• Agreste Design staff, including all Agreste Manor personnel
• Adrien Agreste

Any attempt by your person or through an intermediary to contact any of those listed above in person or electronically in any way will result in legal action.

Any attempt to contact the media to disparage those listed above or to gain public sympathy towards yourself by claiming a misunderstanding or grievance will be viewed as libel and will be treated as such in a court of law.

Your services will also no longer be required at any future modelling engagements.

She frowned at the text.

Perhaps that last photo had gone a little too far for Gabriel Agreste’s liking.

Not that it mattered, it had worked in Lila’s favour since no one from the Agreste household had publicly denied it.  It had worried her some that the image wasn’t still circulating in the media.  No matter the media site she went to, where she had previously bookmarked the link containing the story she had planted, the pages were now missing.  The kind of scandal that picture could cause should have ensured it was fodder for every front page of the Paris newspapers for at the very least a month.  And she should have received calls from fashion magazines about an interview by now.

The absence of both was disconcerting.

She had to find a way to talk to Gabriel Agreste somehow.

She had to explain the photo and why it was a good thing, at least find a plausible enough spin for him to swallow to that fact.  Convince him this publicity was good for the company.  Scandals had a way of selling a person or product to the masses.  She had a few shady marketing sites she could fall back on to craft a plausible enough explanation.

And then she had to get in contact with Adrien.

Calling him resulted in nothing, everything was going to voicemail and he wasn’t returning any of them, at least yet.

Texting him got her nowhere.  His phone was obviously receiving them, but he wasn’t messaging back.

She even tried the email account she had convinced that guy, Wayhem, to share with her, selling him a story about how good friends she and Adrien were, and she could arrange for him to have more access to the model.

But even the emails seemed to be ignored.

Was he following the instructions laid out in the email she had received from the assistant?

Had her communications been blocked?

Had he been forbidden from answering any of her communications?

He was far too polite to continuously ignore anyone trying to contact him, so he must have been forbidden to do so.

And the Sanscoeur woman was adamant the last time she spoke to her that Adrien was no longer in Paris.  He was away on another super exclusive and private photoshoot for a clothing line Gabriel Agreste would be launching in the Summer of next year.

All the digging she did online, even on the shiftiest of sites regarding the fashion world, yielded nothing of where his latest photoshoot could be.  Lila needed to know where he was in order to just suddenly appear out of nowhere.

Or at least know when he would return so she could miraculously drop in for a visit.

Nino had said Adrien would be worried for their missing classmate.  Lila knew of Marinette’s crush on the boy, who in their class didn’t, but she had also noticed the attention Adrien had begun showing in the baker’s girl.

The smiles.

The desire to be in the same groups she was in.

The ease and comfort he seemed to have around her.

He seemed downright uncomfortable when Lila was with him or touching him, even Chloé Bourgeois, but not with Marinette.

He would touch her shoulder, casually sling an arm around her shoulders, take her hand to get her attention…

No, Lila had to be the sole presence around him, especially now.  Without Marinette’s influence, Lila had a better chance of worming her way into Adrien’s heart.  She had to be his comfort during this time, be the only person he could turn to and talk to.

It didn’t matter what he thought of the photo she took, she had to show him that only she cared enough and understood what he was going through, that she alone was his only true friend and confidant.  She could twist the photo’s meaning to suit her tale.

She huffed in frustration before opening a blank email.

Legal threat be damned.

No one in the Agreste household was going to stop her from contacting the teen model and achieving the social status she deserved.

In the addressee field she began to add the emails to just about everyone, except Legal of course, who worked for Agreste Design.

Someone had to know something and she would find it.

Chapter Text

Compared to the warehouse, this was a definite upgrade.

Chat Blanc had taken Marinette towards the Mairie, specifically to one of the wings that had been undergoing renovations.  Labour disputes had put those construction plans on indefinite hold, so it meant no one was in this wing.  Also, no one could easily access this area due to the only staircase leading to these rooms had been demolished already.

This meant the floor was wide open and unencumbered for the hiding pair.

And, compared to the warehouse, it had running water and actual beds.  This had probably been a guest wing for visiting municipal representatives.

Asking for an abandoned charging cable, or a computer of some sort that had been forgotten, had been wishful thinking though.  She had found a tablet, but it was limited in connectivity and applications.  Someone had locked it down from downloading or accessing any messaging services or email and the WIFI capabilities allowed for only a few sites to be reached, none of them online email or social services. 

And the charger had not been compatible with her phone. 

It did allow her to access news sites, so she wasn’t completely cut off from the world.

So, when she wasn’t sketching, she was browsing the local news to see what the city was up to.  The sound of rain hitting the windows was a soothing sound despite everything.  It had rained for almost the entire week now, sometimes hard with loud thunder that followed bright flashes of lightning, sometimes lighter to almost a thin drizzle.  But it was always gray no matter the rain status. 

Sitting at the head of one of the beds, both kwami curled together on a pillow next to her, Marinette scrolled through yet another breaking report of a Chat Blanc sighting.

A smile came to her lips.

The akumatized teen still left her side each and every time he felt Hawk Moth trying to gain control of him.  He would be away for hours on end before finally returning.  Plagg no longer left with him, feeling the need wasn’t there anymore.  It was clear Adrien was able to fight this akuma and he would always return.  And the boy was a lot more careful to make sure no one followed him back, either making large detours or dashing off to virtually disappear from sight.

He would be back soon now.

In fact, the faint and familiar sound of his clawed hands and boots landing in the hallway outside signalled his return.  Like he had done many times this week, he took the time to shake the excess rainwater off of himself before entering the room.

Her smile widened at the memory.

She had scolded him the first time her had returned a soaking mess as if nothing was.  He had growled in return, both staring each other down, waiting for the other to back off in surrender.  His angry pout made him look so comical that she had almost cracked and laughed at him.  Marinette had won that battle and he never came back to her side before ensuring he was much drier.

Like now.

He crawled into the room on all fours like a cat suddenly unsure of the situation or environment, ears flattened back against his head.  Marinette blinked at the scolded and dejected look he sported, at the fear that seemed to swim in his wide magenta eyes. 

Even the kwami seemed to pick up on the frightened energy he was radiating, floating up slightly from their pillow to watch the boy.

“Kitty?” she questioned.

He ducked at the sound of her voice, averting his eyes.

“Adrien?” she called softly.

Tentative eyes glanced over at her, unable to look for very long.

“Hey, Kitty,” and she patted the bedside to call him over.

His eyes darted around the room, almost expecting to see something to come after him suddenly, before darting forward to leap onto the bed, burying himself in the blankets Marinette had gathered from the other guestrooms.  His chin came to rest on her knee, wide and almost terrified eyes staring up at her from his cave of covers.

Her movements slow and unthreatening, Marinette reached into the mess of fabric, one hand coming to rest on his cool and damp cheek while the other threaded through rain-soaked hair.  She could feel his trembling form start to relax as his eyes closed, seemingly reassured by her touch.

“Hey…  What’s wrong, my kitten?”

Tikki and Plagg floated closer as the feline keened timidly.

Plagg frowned at the sound and moved just a little closer.  “What did he say to you?” he prompted, not sure he had heard right.

Magenta eyes opened to him and he keened again.

Plagg floated upwards, a raging maelstrom of dark energy whipping and roiling around him as he glared off through one of the windows.

“I am Cataclysming that assholes scrawny little butt into oblivion!” he roared, voice seeming to echo in raw power. 

“Plagg…!” Tikki called to her counterpart, reacting to the awed fear from her Chosen and the akumatized boy.

He glared at her, but his anger was directed somewhere else.  “No one can say those things to my kittens and be allowed to live!”

“What did he say?”

“Demeaning things!  Evil things!  Called him a waste!  Called him worthless!  My kitten is anything but worthless and a waste!  If he wasn’t exceptional, I wouldn’t be his kwami!”

Marinette reached out to him, enfolding his tiny form in her hands and effectively dissipating the dark aura surrounding him.

“Shh, Plagg, you’re scaring Adrien,” she half scolded.

It seemed to be what flicked off his anger.  The kwami freed himself from her hands and drifted down to be at eye-level with his Chosen still cocooned in the multitude of blankets.

“Sorry, kid,” he apologized to the boy, slowly floating towards him.  “I didn’t mean to go off like that.  You are my Chosen, the single most important person to me.  So, when I hear a piece of trash like Hawk Moth trying to bad-mouth you, I have a tendency to get a little over-protective.”

Chat Blanc made a sound like a plaintive mewl.

“Of course, you’re worth it!” the black cat replied.  “Nothing he says or your Father says means anything.”

The boy chuffed low, magenta eyes closing, and Plagg nuzzled into his cheek.

Marinette had to smile at the two, seeing their bond mirrored by her bond with Tikki, amazed that it extended even into this akumatization.

“Hawk Moth intended for Adrien to be big and mean,” she voiced to the room.  “He had hoped to make a monster and a terror out of him.  But just like the other Chat Blanc, my Kitty is just far too sweet and Adrien just far too gentle to be any kind of menace.”

Chat Blanc harrumphed at her indignantly. 

She chuckled and scratched his scalp, pulling a purr from the boy.

“It’s true, and you know it.  The only people who need to fear you are the bad guys.”

“… purr-rrrotect… Marrri…” he rumbled through his purr.

“But Mari wants to protect her Kitty, too.”  He looked up at her.  “You can’t stay like this forever.”

“… purr-rrrotect…”

“You can still do that as Chat Noir, and as Adrien, too, without the help of an akuma.”

He made a murph sound, looking as if he was actually considering her words.

“And I can make sure that Ladybug protects Adrien and Chat Noir while Marinette watches out for both of you when she can’t.”  She let her fingers drift to one of his feline ears to scratch the base of it.  “We can watch out for each other, without the akuma.”

Chat Blanc blinked at her slowly.

“Any time you need to, as Chat or as Adrien, you can come to me.  We can talk or text if something is bothering you, or you don’t even have to say anything, we’ll just sit together until you feel better.  I’ll tell you again when you’re no longer akumatized.”

Marinette could almost see the wheels in his mind turning, calculating the value of her words versus what both his rational and akumatized mind knew of the girl.  She bit her lip, hoping she was judging the look correctly, and carefully cupped his cheeks.

“Adrien…” she called gently.  Then, when his eyes met hers, “What did the akuma infect?”

He hesitated, a reflex all akuma victims seemed to share.  Something Hawk Moth probably programed into the akuma to ensure the victims protected them and the infected item instead of just handing it over.  But he fought it, as he did every aspect of his unnatural transformation.

“… picturrre…”

“A picture?  A picture in your room?”

He nodded.  “… fffammmily…”

“Of all three of you?”

He nodded again.

It explained a lot since his Father was the cause of his current predicament.  He no doubt had been looking at a family picture of happier times, wondering when things had changed so much.

Tikki smiled thinly.  “Well, now we know what to look for.  All we have to do now is convince him we need to go to his room.”

He growled his displeasure at that thought.

“If we do this right, we won’t even have to face your Father,” Marinette counselled.  “I can go on my own, if you want?”

He growled again, louder this time.

“Okay, or not.  It’s not like I wouldn’t be more than happy to string him up like a limp sausage.”  This won a small grin from the boy.  “You could go get the item, maybe?”

He sniffed in clear distaste of that idea as well.

“It doesn’t have to be right now, but this is something that will have to be done.”  She scratched his scalp gently.  “The longer you stay like this, the greater Hawk Moth’s chances are of gaining control over you.  I don’t want to lose you like I did in that other timeline.”

“… keep… Marrri… sssafffe…”

She smiled gently.  “You always do, my kitten.  Never doubt that.”

Eyes closing, Chat Blanc turned his face away and scooted closer to the girl until his cheek was pressed against her belly, arms around her hips.  Her fingers dug through his hair, scratching gentle circles both to sooth and try to convince him.

But he had already decided.

What was left of his rational mind, of Adrien’s mind, had already weighed all the options. 

He felt her recline back against the pillows, pulling the covers up around them both for the evening.  Allowing himself the small luxury of snuggling against her side, Chat Blanc continued to think about his current situation.

Hawk Moth couldn’t akumatize anyone else while he still had the akuma infecting that picture in his room, so that lessened the risk to the city.  Staying as Chat Blanc increased his strength and speed, his power becoming almost infinite and making himself all that better as a partner and protector to Ladybug, but he had no home in the city like he was. 

He had no doubt Marinette would take him in, though her parents would probably need convincing. 

And she might have to reveal herself to them to ensure they were convinced.

But staying as Chat Blanc also increased the chances that Hawk Moth would double his efforts to either take control of him, or find a way of cancelling the akuma.  Something he did to the little butterfly obviously made it hard to just recall it.  It was really just a matter of time before he figured out how to exert his will on the akuma.

He had to keep Marinette safe.

He had to keep Ladybug safe.

They were one and the same, something his primal mind was having difficulty putting together, but his Adrien mind was thrilled beyond compare.

And it terrified him.

If Hawk Moth found out Ladybug was Marinette, he would attack her family and her friends to get to her, make her give up her Miraculous in exchange to just to keep them all safe.  She would do that without hesitation.  He had seen how close she came to that before when Volpina had cast an illusion of Adrien to pretend she was holding him hostage.  Ladybug had come to within a millisecond of removing her earrings when the akuma had threatened to drop the boy.

If he didn’t go after her family and friends, Hawk Moth could find a way to target her specifically.  He could keep her from transforming by always making sure she was a target of all his attacks.

He could hear her breath evening out as sleep took hold.  Opening his eyes he caught sight of their kwami curled together on a pillow.

Raising his head, Chat Blanc looked up at his charge.  A pleasant pang struck his heart at the trust and peace he saw written on her face.  Making sure to keep the blankets tucked around her, Chat Blanc sat up at her side and just watched her sleep.

His rational mind was screaming at him, wondering how he could have missed this girl also being Ladybug.

There had to be some magic at play, something subtle enough not to feel, but that kind of pushed any recognition to the farthest reaches of the mind.

She was Ladybug.

His Ladybug.

And she was Marinette.

His Mari…

His?

The memories were there, feeling like a dream when he tried to remember them, tenuous and fleeting. 

There were so many moments when he had seen her stumble and blush when she was around him, how she had been a stuttering mess when he was there. 

He had been an idiot, he realized. 

All those had been clear signs that he had seen several times before in all the manga he had read and watched.

A girl had a very clear and powerful crush on someone when she became an utter bundle of nerves when that person was mentioned or was near.

It was a distinct formula in every manga out there.

So… Marinette liked him?

But all the times she had denied it? 

That was in the manga as well.

Was she that shy around him because of her feelings for him?

But Ladybug had mentioned someone she loved…

Luka had showed an interest in Marinette.

He fought hard against the growl that threatened to erupt at the thought of that boy wanting his Ladybug. 

Then, with a blink, he dared entertain the thought that Luka was the boy Ladybug had spoken of.  It didn’t make sense though.  The boy had come for her, she had the chance to leave with him.  Instead, Marinette had stayed and had told Luka to leave.

Thinking back, she didn’t have the stuttering or stumbling or mad blushes when Luka was around.  She acted as she always did around her friends.  She could easily have been talking to any other male in their class, there was no difference.

He huffed silently.

Something to figure out at a later time.

Carefully using a clawed finger, Chat Blanc moved a stray lock of hair away from her face. 

She had been right; he couldn’t stay like this.

He was a liability like this.

Hawk Moth had to be defeated by Ladybug and Chat Noir, not Chat Blanc.

As much as he disliked the idea of going back, he had to go back to Agreste Manor and retrieve the photo.  It had to be somewhere close to his bed, that’s where he had been standing when he had felt the surge of power.

Moving slowly and making no sound, Chat Blanc crept from the bed and left the room.  It was a short few steps to the demolished wall at the end of the hall, and even less hops to the rooftops.  The rain was more of a mist over the city now, gathering in thick fog banks along the edge of the Seine.  Streetlights looked like loosely formed orbs in the night, the rare few people walking the streets nothing more that shapeless shadows in the mist.

Chat Blanc nodded to himself as he leapt across to the next roof.  His current white coloring would disappear in the light fog.  He could move around freely without being seen.

A few minutes later, following the secret path along the rooftops only known to Paris’s Heroes, Chat Blanc arrived at his target. 

All the lights within were out, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone inside, possibly even watching from the windows. 

The feline carefully kept out of sight, watching every single window for any movement.  One mighty leap took him across the street to the wall encircling Agreste Manor, keeping away from any of the cameras he knew dotted the perimeter.  Another leapt took him through the open window of his room, landing without so much as a whisper on the coarse carpeting.

He sniffed the air cautiously.

All scents were faded from time, attesting to the fact no one had come to this room since his akumatization.

Quietly crawling on all fours, Chat Blanc neared his desk.  On the floor, glowing faintly from the new kind of akuma within, was the last item he had been holding when the white butterfly had made its appearance.

Picking it up, he just stared at the three figures frozen in time in the photograph.  He was young in it, maybe just past toddler years, and he was smiling brightly.  As was his Mother in that almost knowing and serene way she could, as if the world held no mysteries from her.  And finally, there was his Father, sporting a rare and reserved smile, something he saw maybe once every few months.

A happier time was forever immortalized in that picture.

Chat Blanc silently tucked it into a handkerchief from nearby and then into the collar of his suit before going completely still, eyes fixed on the door.

Someone was coming.

Just as the door opened, he leapt up to the ledge above it that formed the launch platform for his skateboard ramp.

Nathalie entered his room, phone to her ear.

“I am checking now, Sir,” she spoke, no doubt his Father on the other end.

He stalked over to the top of his climbing wall as he watched her approach his computer.  It was clear she was looking for something.  She checked every surface, the waste bin, under the desk and nearby bed, before finally sighing heavily in defeat.

“I can’t find anything, Sir.  Chances are he still has it with him.”

He saw her suddenly twitch from something she saw on his monitor screen before she whirled around to face where he was perched, a startled gasp torn from her lips, phone dropping to the floor.

Chat Blanc hissed at her menacingly, two quick leaps taking him to the floor and then out the window into the night again.

He didn’t know what she was looking for in his room for his Father, nor did he really care.  He had the item he needed and that was all that mattered.

Soon he would be Adrien again.

He promised himself to remember everything from the past few days. 

He just had to.

Marinette was his Ladybug.

His Lady.

She had risked everything to stay with him during his akumatization.  Had Hawk Moth gained control over him, he would have been forced to bring her to him, or worse, to fight her for her Miraculous. 

But she had stayed, despite this.

The Adrien part of his mind was already working up scripts to declare his love for her and ask her to become his girlfriend. 

They would go on dates every free weekend and he would bring her to all his photoshoots just to have her near. 

And as superheroes, they would play games of tag between Akuma attacks or they could just cuddle on a sunny rooftop in the day, or have a nighttime picnic on the Eiffel Tower.

To be honest, Chat Blanc liked those ideas.

To his primal mind, this girl was, for all intents and purposes, his mate.

She wasn’t afraid of him.

She cared.

So, he had to remember everything.  To forget now and go back to just being friends… that would be a tragedy.

He knew Marinette would be so proud of him tonight for going to retrieve the photo.  She hadn’t been overtly insistent that he do this, but her gentle little nudges from time to time let him know this was important.  This would make her very happy.

As much as he wanted to protect her, keep her safe from men like his Father, and seeing as the entire city was now chasing after him, Chat Blanc had to change back to Adrien.

Maybe he could find a way to continue being her protector as Adrien when he couldn’t be Chat Noir at every moment of the day?

Unseen, he ducked into the open window at the Mairie, taking a moment to slick the water that had misted onto his suit.  With a quick shake of his head to rid his hair of the rain, he bounded down the empty hall towards their shared room…

And then froze.

There was an unknown scent in the air. 

No, a few different scents.

Two unknown males. 

At first, he thought one of them was Luka, but the scent was too different now that he sampled it properly.  It was older than the teen, both of them were.

Two adults.

And there was a chemical scent with them.

He didn’t like that one.  It made his senses feel thick and fuzzy.

He dashed into the room, prepared for a fight, only to find it empty if not a mess from a struggle.

So, his Marinette hadn’t gone willingly without a fight.

Not friends then.

A ferocious growl rumbled in his throat.

If they hurt her in any way, intentional or not…

“There you are!” an almost relieved voice exclaimed from above him.

Magenta eyes darted up to find Plagg flying down from a hiding spot in the cracked ceiling.

Chat Blanc snapped at him in reproach.

“Back off, kid, I did not abandon anyone.  Tikki told me to stay behind for you when you came back from wherever it was you went to.  Where did you go?”

Chat Blanc rumbled his response and Plagg blinked, looking down at the breast of his suit.

“Oh… you…”  He smiled suddenly.  “Good kitty!”

Pride flashed in the boy’s eyes and the growl dropped by an octave.

“Two men, they didn’t talk much.  I think they used something along the lines of chloroform or ether or something on her.  It stank.”

Another growl.

“I’m tracking Tikki.  She stayed with pigtails so she can transform if worse gets to worse.”

The boy sniffed, Plagg gripping onto his shoulder before he took off at a sprint back outside.  He clambered onto the rooftops and, at his kwami’s instructions, headed south.  The path he was soon following was strangely familiar.

Coming to the edge of a last roof, Chat Blanc snarled at the edifice Plagg had directed him to.

Agreste Manor.

“I’m telling you, Tikki is in there so pigtails is in there too.”

Chat Blanc growled harshly.

“I know, it probably means your Father is responsible.  As cold as Nathalie can be sometimes, she’d never act without the old man’s say so.”

The boy sat back on his haunches in thought.  Given any other situation, he would have rushed in and be damned the consequences. 

But Ladybug was in there, untransformed. 

True, her kwami was with her and, true, she could transform at any moment to escape the situation.

But she would never risk revealing herself to just anyone, especially not his Father after knowing what he had done to Adrien recently.

A half hiss, half grunt passed his lips, directed to his kwami.

“Tikki’s in the  top of the house, that fourth floor attic space.  No idea how we’re going to get in there without being seen if we have to go through the house.”

Chat Blanc regarded the drab grey tiles.  From the front of the house there was nothing distinct about that roof.  And then a memory struck him, a renovation that was done a few years ago.  A window had been put in at the back of the house, but it was sealed.  The frame was still there, it was still visible, yet there was no way anyone could see out of it when there was tile over the glass.

A faux window.

His Father never did anything without a reason, so this faux window had a reason for being.

Whatever it was, it also gave him the perfect way in.  The roof had to be thin there and should be easy to break through with Cataclysm.

He huffed and Plagg blinked.

“A blocked off window?  Worth a try, kid.”

A few powerful leaps brought him to the back of the house, walking the small balustrade lined with an elaborate wrought-iron fence.  Sure enough, the outline of the window was still there, but it was open now.  Quietly he snuck up to the edge of the opening, peering inside.

It took everything both felines had not to hiss angrily at the sight.

Hawk Moth!

Chat Blanc pulled himself out of sight, keening quietly.

“Your Father is Hawk Moth,” Plagg hissed.  “This explains so much about the asshole’s actions and personality.”  The kwami flew to the window’s edge to peer in, his tiny size making it much more probable that he wouldn’t be seen.  “I see Marinette!” he exclaimed in a whisper.  “She’s on the far side of the room near the wall and I think she’s just starting to wake up.  Man, is he in for a tongue lashing in a few minutes from now or what?”

The boy rumbled in questioning.

“He’s in the middle of the room.  What’s he…?  By the Makers, is he monologuing?  Wow, he talks to his butterflies.  I knew Hawk Moth was a nutcase…”

Another rumbled from the boy.

“He’ll see your shadow at the very least.  No, sneaking in is not an option.  You’ll have to do a direct attack.”

Yet another rumble.

“Sure, I can get to her, but why?”

Chat Blanc reached into his collar to pull out the wrapped photo, holding it out to Plagg.

“You want me to get it to her?”

The cat nodded.

“While you fight, um, him?”

He nodded with a growl.

Plagg stared at him in awe, blindly taking the wrapped photo.  “I don’t say this half as much as I should.  Kid, you are something really tough and special, you know that?”

A gleaming fang poked over Chat Blanc’s lip when he huffed a lopsided grin at his kwami.  He then signaled him to wait a moment after he attacked to ensure he would have Hawk Moth’s full attention.  Plagg only nodded in agreement, clutching his precious cargo just a little tighter in his arms.  The white cat crawled low beneath the window to come to a crouch at the middle of it.  Slowly, so as not to attract attention until it was too late, he wrapped his clawed fingers around the edge of the frame to use it for leverage.

Then he paused, casting his mind back to all the times his Father had verbally lashed out at him, or ruined a planned dinner or outing, or had ignored him for some reason or other.  He was willing himself to rage, the use the anger to attack Hawk Moth regardless of who he was behind his mask.  He had terrorized the city for months on end with his akuma.  And now knowing that this was Gabriel Agreste as well, it only made Chat Blanc’s blood boil at knowing this was his Father all this time.

The drop that tipped the bucket was taking Marinette to use her against him.

Joke was on Hawk Moth.

Taking Marinette only ensured Chat Blanc would be merciless against him.

Muscles coiled for a brief heartbeat and the teen launched himself into the room, aiming for the man in purple standing in the centre of the room.

Hawk Moth never had a chance to move, the white shape colliding into him and sending both sprawling across the floor.

Being feline, Chat Blanc rolled to his feet quicker than his opponent, dashing forward again to continue his attack, claws and teeth bared.

Lashing his cane to ward him off, it sounded as if Hawk Moth was going to try to speak to him, no doubt to convince him to work with him.

Chat Blanc would not give him the opportunity, ducking under the swing of the cane and slashing at him.

His claws caught the edge of the suit, tearing long strips through the fabric effortlessly.

The villain tried to jump back and put some distance between them.

Again, Chat Blanc never gave him the chance, his attack relentless.

Keeping a wary eye on the battle, Plagg flew quickly along the room’s perimeter towards Marinette.  She was just starting to sit up, supporting her head groggily in one hand.  He came up to her face, keening loud enough to catch only her attention.

She looked up and blinked.  “Plagg…?  What…?”

“No time to explain in detail right now.  Adrien went to get the photo, Hawk Moth found you and kidnapped you, Hawk Moth is Gabriel, and Adrien is beating the tar out of him right now.”

She could only stare, absorbing the information in building shock, eyes drawn to the battle going on nearby.

“The kid wants you to hold on to this,” and Plagg pushed the wrapped photo into her hand.

Blankly she looked at the item she now held, unwrapping it slowly while Plagg dove into her purse.  The photo glowed strangely, making the three smiling faces look weird, for lack of a better word.  She looked up to Adrien, her partner, fighting against Hawk Moth with all his feral skills.

This was their enemy and his Father.

How was she going to explain this to Adrien once she cleansed him?

Later.

This was something to figure out later, after he would be cleansed.

From the corner of her eye, Marinette caught movement in the shadows trying to near her without being noticed.

Instinct caused her to roll on herself, clutching the photo tight to herself.

Getting to her feet, she found herself face-to-face with Mayura, the Peacock Miraculous holder.

“Clever girl,” the villainess smirked.  “But it’s useless to fight me.  I have the power of a Miraculous.  Just give me the photograph, Marinette, and we’ll let you go.”

She took a tentative step back, re-wrapping the photo.  “So, you and Hawk Moth can use it to control Adrien?  Not likely.”

“This is for the greater good.  He needs Chat Blanc to—”

“To get Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous, blah, blah, blah.  I know the speech.  Gabriel Agreste has no right to use Adrien like this.”

Mayura blinked.  “So, you know.”

“I know, and I’ll be damned if I let either of you get control of him, or get the Miraculous.  I would rather die first.”

A grim expression settled on the woman’s blue-colored face.  “So be it.”

In a flurry of blue fabric and feathers, the woman rushed the girl in clear intent.

What she hadn’t counted on was Marinette being able to easily dodge the lunge, dropping to the floor and using her body to trip her attacker.  This one was unable to stop her momentum, not having expected the move, and ended in an unceremonious sprawl on the floor, the wind temporarily knocked out of her.

Marinette scrambled back to her feet and ran to the other side of the room, putting the combatants between herself and Mayura.

She reached the other wall in time to hear Hawk Moth cry out in agony.

Chat Blanc had slashed a series of bloodied gouges across the man’s chest.

Mayura called out to Hawk Moth in worry, rushing to his side as he toppled over, catching him before he hit the ground.

His back arched dangerously, tail lashing back and forth in barely contained rage, Chat Blanc stared him down with a vicious snarl, daring either of them to do anything.  Marinette stood behind him; the photo clutched protectively to her heart.

Tired eyes raised up to the pair, pained and pleading.

“You don’t understand,” Hawk Moth gasped.

Chat Blanc snapped at him to silence him.

“We don’t need to understand,” Marinette replied.  “You had no right to use Adrien like you did.  Look at him!  Look what you did to your Son!”

“I had my reasons!  I would have changed him back after…”

“After what?  After you got the Ladybug and Chat Noir Miraculous?  Don’t you get it?  They will never give them up!  They will always defeat you!  And nothing justifies hurting Adrien this much!”

“I’m doing this to bring back his Mother!”

Marinette paused at that, eyes wide, digesting his words. 

More secrets to keep. 

More to find time to tell him about later. 

“And who’s life would you sacrificed to bring her back?” she heard herself ask.

Both villains had a surprised start at that.

“Ladybug told me how it works.  Equal exchange.  So, a life for a life.  It makes no difference why you’re doing all this, it’s still wrong.  Who would have to die to bring her back?  Who would you end up killing?”

The usually verbose terrorist could only gape in return.  Nooroo had warned him of this same thing, but he had chalked it up to a fear of reprimand from the timid kwami. 

And now this child was repeating the same thing.

Using both Miraculous together could grant the wearer anything they might want, any wish.

But the cost would be equal measure to their request.

Could he choose?

Did he have the right to take someone away from someone else, put that chosen victim’s family through what he had gone through when Emilie slipped away?

“No!” Mayura exclaimed in defiance.  “We’ll make the right choice!  We’ll choose someone who deserves to die!”

Marinette shook her head at them.  “What makes you think the Miraculous would let you choose?”

The woman was at a loss for words, falling silent.

“Strange that it took an ordinary girl to make you finally see what everyone has been telling you all this time,” the teen voiced softly.

She approached Chat Blanc, a gentle hand to his back.  Raised fur smoothed out, his anger seemingly to melt away when he looked over his shoulder at her, his stance straightening to something more human.  He understood the look she was giving him, one slightly pleading and tired.  He swept her up in his arms, preparing to leave through the window.

“Adrien…” Hawk Moth called, desperation entering his tone.

Chat Blanc whirled around and snarled at him, warning him off.  The man merely shrank back.

In a blink, the teens were gone.

Gabriel dropped his transformation, glancing at Nathalie just as she dropped her own transformation.  Their kwami remained silent, watching their wielders in worry.  Blood seeped through Gabriel’s ruined suit, oozing over his hand that he pressed to his chest in a futile effort to stem the flow.

“Did… did I truly get this all wrong?” he questioned softly, not intending to receive an answer.

“We should get that wound tended to, Sir,” Nathalie counselled, urging him to his feet.

“She knows,” he whispered.  “Miss Marinette knows everything now.”

Nathalie led him through the secret hallways to his office, ensuring to lock the door behind them so as not to be disturbed.  She got her employer to sit at his desk before she busied herself collecting the small but important medical kit she had tucked in a drawer long ago.  Gabriel never reacted to the pain he must have felt when she tried to carefully peel the bloodied clothes away from his wounds.

“If, by some chance, Adrien remembers nothing once he’s cleansed, she will tell him,” he muttered as Nathalie cleaned his injuries.  “With my luck lately, he will believe her and take this information to the authorities.”

“There still a chance to convince her not to say anything.  Maybe offer her an internship in exchange for her silence, as an aspiring designer she will want this desperately.”

“I know she’ll reject it.  Who would want to work for Hawk Moth?”

“I work for Hawk Moth.”

He almost smiled.  “Yes, but you want Emilie back as much as I do.  No, anything I may try to offer this young lady will be refused.  She has a strong belief in justice and morality, I have always felt it in her.  Adrien once referred to her as an everyday Ladybug.”

Nathalie’s hands stilled.  “Then we should prepare for the eventual appearance of the authorities at your door.”

The man huffed.  “Jail almost seems too kind for what I’ve done.”  Then, after a long pause, “I should have never akumatized Adrien, even if just to test my new akuma.  What would Emilie have thought of me for doing that?  I truly am a monster.”

He looked up to the painting of his wife hanging on the wall, his expression dropping sadly.

“I’ve failed in my promise to you, my dearest Emilie,” he sighed, resigned.  “And now, not only have a lost you, I’ve lost our Son.”

“If it’s any consolation, Sir, I have put contingencies into place in case this sort of thing happened.  Adrien will be cared for, regardless of what happens now.”

He merely nodded solemnly.

*    *    *

Marinette was silent as she watched Chat Blanc bounce into the room at the Mairie, allowing herself only the tiniest smiles as he was congratulated and fawned over by the two kawmi.  They were calling him a good boy for how he behaved and fought.  Plagg boasted that Adrien was his best Chosen to date and this battle against his akumatizer was just the added proof to it all. 

The white feline preened proudly.

She was proud of him too.

She was always proud of him.

He was her partner.

He was the love of her life.

Hot tears suddenly stung her eyes as her breath caught in her throat.

And it just wasn’t fair!

She crushed the photo to her heart as she fell to her knees, unable to stop the tears trailing down her cheeks.  Tikki flew over to her immediately, having felt the shift of emotions in her Chosen.

“Marinette…” she keened ever so softly.

“It’s just not fair!” she hiccupped in deep sobs.  “He shouldn’t have to deal with all… all this!”

Chat Blanc carefully approached her, making his movements as slow and non-threatening as possible.  Watery blue eyes met magenta.

“You… you shouldn’t have to deal with… with any of this…” she cried.  “You give… you give so much… of yourself to everyone…”

His ears flattened back, pained by her grief.

“You… you have such a beautiful soul… such a… a generous heart…” 

She cupped his cheek, peering into his face through her tears.  She could see them both behind this akuma mask, both Chat Noir and Adrien.  Both of them looked back in worry for her.  It was what she loved about him, his selflessness despite whatever he was going through.  It was something that shone through both his personas, and it made it feel so much more unfair.

He let so many people tell him what he had to do, where he had to be, when none of them had ever kept a single promise they had made to him.

Breaking his heart felt impossible, but she could see the cracks so clearly now.  It took this akuma to make everything so clear to her now.

Chat Blanc turned his face enough to nuzzle her palm, enjoying the warmth she offered freely.

“You should… you should have a perfect life…  Your Father should have loved you, he… he shouldn’t have become Hawk Moth…”

She sniffed pitifully, trying to control her sobs.

“If… If you forget… do I tell you?  Do I have the right to… to hurt you like that?”

“… Marrri…” he rumbled softly, pulling her into a tight hug, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Marinette clung to him like a lifeline, letting herself begin to cry again against his shoulder. 

Lying was not an option, but the truth was no better.  Both would hurt her partner, her best friend, and she couldn’t willingly do that.

“… trrruth…” he purred gently.

The girl had to blink to herself for a moment to make sure she had heard correctly, before pulling back enough to see his face.  The look he gave her confirmed she had heard right.

“Adrien is right, Marinette,” Tikki voiced carefully.

“The kid would want the truth no matter what, especially from you,” added Plagg.

The little red kwami bobbed in agreement.  “Often times the truth is rarely what a person wants to hear, but it is what they need to hear.”

“… Marrri… fffammmily…” Chat Blanc purred.  “… My… Lady…”

“I can’t leave you with that… that monster.  Not after knowing all this.”

“… Marrri… prrrotect… Adrrrien…”

“Always, but I can’t do that to you.”

“You don’t have much of a choice, pigtails,” Plagg stated.  “He doesn’t go back to his Father after he’s cleansed, the asshole will simply launch a manhunt to get him back.  But, if you make sure to tell Adrien everything that happened after he was akumatized, he can hold it over Daddy Dearest’s head.”

“As much as I dislike blackmail,” Tikki began.  “This is something we both agree needs to happen.  You got through to Hawk Moth, to a certain degree, about how what he’s doing is wrong.  If Adrien turns against him too, Gabriel will have to realize that his actions won’t result in what he wants.”

“He doesn’t know who you or the kid really are,” added the cat kwami.  “He just knows there are two teens who know his secret now.  For him, that has to rattle his nerves enough to maybe, just maybe, stop for good.”

Marinette’s shoulders drooped.  “That’s a stretch, at best.”

“A thin chance is often more than some people get in life.”

Tikki smiled.  “And a thin chance is often all Ladybug needs to turn the worst of situations into a success.”

Chat Blanc nosed her cheek.  “… Marrri… trrruth…” he urged.

Her hand rested at the base of his jaw, fingers curling in a gentle scratch.

The weight of the situation weighed heavy on the girl’s shoulders. 

She knew everything.

She had been right all those months ago: Hawk Moth and Gabriel Agreste were one and the same.

He wanted the Ladybug and Chat Noir Miraculous to bring back his lost wife, regardless of the cost.  That, alone, spoke to the madness his grief had driven him to.

Mayura was still a mystery, but she had to be someone close to the family to want to help Hawk Moth.

Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir were the same person.  Her partner and her love, there was no distinction to be had.

All the conversations they had on Paris’s rooftops at night now made sense.  He had spoken of his isolation and the pressures put on his civilian self.  Part of her had noted the similarities from what she knew about the teen model’s life.

But they were right, Chat Blanc and the kwami.

Holding on to this information, trying to keep him sheltered from it, would not help Adrien.

He needed to know in order to escape it.

Forehead to forehead with Chat Blanc, Marinette exhaled heavily through her nose, holding the photo to her heart.

“Alright,” she whispered softly.  “Truth.”

Chapter Text

The message had gone out to ever single possible screen across Paris.

Ladybug was requesting the public’s assistance in staying off the streets for the next few hours.  There was no danger, but she was dealing with a new kind of akuma and didn’t know what might happen during its purification.  She wanted to ensure that if anything did happen, the people would be protected.

She also asked for a police presence around the Mairie to ensure that those who didn’t listen to her instructions would be held at bay.

Hence why Alya, Nino, and Luka were currently standing behind a police barrier, waiting for Ladybug to make her appearance.  The reporter was miffed at the angle she was forced to view at, but anything was better than nothing.  At least she was against the barricade and not forced behind the throngs of reporters and gawkers also gathered with her and her friends.

And at least it had finally stopped raining.

“You think Ladybug will really purify Adrien out in the open?” Nino questioned only loud enough for his friends to hear.

“She had to prove to the city that Chat Noir isn’t the liability they already think he is,” Luka reasoned.

“Harsh, Bro.”

“But true.  You saw the posts on Alya’s blog after he was turned into Chat Blanc.  People don’t trust him as much anymore.  By doing this, she proving to everyone that Chat Noir, despite being absent in all this, was not the monster people assumed he had become because of an akuma.  It’ll put a stem on those comments for a bit at least.”

Alya huffed.  “I make it a point to delete those posts.  He doesn’t deserve the hate.  Hero or not, Chat Noir is still human and is susceptible to an akuma like the rest of us.  Besides, he wasn’t even here, so how can anyone even blame him?”

Luke seemed to hesitate.  “Think Ladybug will bring Marinette with them?”

A small smile touched the girl’s lips, at the hint of worry she heard in his voice. 

“I don’t think so.  She put a warning out to the city, so chances are she took Mari someplace safe and then she’ll get her after.”

Nino rocked back on his heels, eyes fixing the rooftops.  “You know, when the media finds out it was ol’Gabe who caused Adrien to be akumatized, his PR team will have the hardest time putting a positive spin on it.”

“Could humanize the bastard a little,” Alya suggested, pulling out her phone to get her camera ready.

“Wishful thinking, Babe.”

An eerie silence seemed to fall over the crowd before someone shouted to look up at the rooftops.

Stalking the edge of the roof, magenta eyes watching the crowd and the gathered police, Chat Blanc made his presence known.  Alya immediately whipped her camera up to film him, not wanting to miss an instant.  He didn’t seem menacing or angry, merely hesitant.

“It’s alright!” Ladybug announced from the centre of the plaza.  “He won’t hurt anyone!”

Nice trick, the aspiring reporter smirked, zooming out to capture both her and Chat Blanc in one shot.  Ladybug had used the attention everyone was giving the akuma to seem to come out of nowhere.

From somewhere in the line of police officers, the sounds of a commotion beginning reached the gathered curious and reporters.

When Chat Blanc coiled and leapt from his perch towards the heroine, someone cried out, the blur of a shape rushing forward to grab the firearm off one of the officers.  This one had the presence of mind to quickly knock it out of the person’s hands before a shot could be fired off.

Alya blinked at the sight.

Lila Rossi?

She had intended to shoot Chat Blanc?

“I’m telling you; he’s attacking us!” the Italian teen near shrieked.  “You have to shoot him now before he kills us all!”

But that was hardly the case and, from the sudden look on Lila’s face, she was caught in her lie at the sight.

Ladybug was standing in front of Chat Blanc; her arms outstretched to protect and shield him.  He was bent on himself in trepidation, ears pinned back and eyes wide.

“The first person who tries anything to hurt him will have to face me!” Ladybug challenged the crowd, though to Alya it looked as though she was issuing the warning solely to Lila.

There was history there she would have to investigate.

Scanning the crown, the heroine spotted the trio standing at the barricade.  So there would be no mistake, she called to the three by name, beckoning them over.  Alya saw her turn back to the boy, whispering reassurances to him.

“… protect Adrien.  Remember?” she heard her tell him gently, to which he nodded.

“Luka, Nino, I want you to be ready to catch him,” Ladybug began.  “He’s been under the influence of this new kind of akuma for over a week and I don’t know what that did to him.  Alya, I want you recording.  I want the world to see what Gabriel Agreste caused in his own Son.”

Alya frowned slightly.  “Not a fan of his, I take it?”

“I was, but that he could do this to his own family…  There’s more, but that will come out later.”  She cupped Chat Blanc’s cheek warmly, bravely meeting his eyes.  “Ready?”

He nodded, squaring his shoulders.

Ladybug pulled out the photo and just stared at it for a long moment.  She didn’t want to damage such a precious item of him.  She knew that her Miraculous Cure would fix this if she called on a Lucky Charm, but there was no other damage to fix.

A tiny voice inside her whispered to use her yo-yo, explaining how.

She pulled the item off her hip, touching two spots.  The yo-yo opened like a compact the inside glowing much like the magical storage it could offer.  But the glow was different, warmer somehow.  Carefully she slipped the photo into its depths and the yo-yo snapped shut, almost catching her fingers.

Chat Blanc went ramrod straight, eyes suddenly vacant, and the other two boys gripped his arms, prepared for whatever would come next.

The yo-yo vibrated harshly, working on purifying the item within.

Suddenly it snapped open again and a black butterfly floated out from its depths.  It barely made it a foot away from the magical device before it seemed to hesitate.

And then it crumbled to ash.

An ugly bubbling mist, it’s color indescribable, roiled and encapsulated Chat Blanc for an instant, dissipating in the blink of an eye.

Adrien Agreste, his eyes closed, slumped backwards and unconscious, caught by his friends who gently lowered him to the cobblestones.

Still filming, Alya motioned for some paramedics to come over and treat the boy.  These ones rushed to work, checking eyes and vitals in a carefully rehearsed choreography they had performed over and over again.

“We’ll take him to get checked out at the hospital just in case, but it looks like he’ll be okay,” one of the technicians reassured.  “We call this akuma exhaustion.”

Ladybug felt the tension ease out of her shoulders at that.  “Good.  These three are his friends and will go with him.  I have a girl I need to drop off to her parents.”

“Marinette, she… she’s okay, right?” Luka questioned as Adrien was loaded onto a stretcher.

Ladybug smiled, though Alya thought she saw a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“Marinette is fine, Chat Blanc was the perfect kitten with her.  But right now, both she and Adrien need rest.  She’ll be back with her parents soon, and Adrien will need friends around him for when his Father shows up.”

“If he shows up.  The old man really caused this, didn’t he,” Nino posed, more of a statement than a question.

“Unfortunately, and who knows for what other reason aside from Lila Rossi’s latest stunt.  Go with Adrien now.  Explanations can wait until later.”

The teens agreed and quickly joined the paramedics wheeling their friend on a gurney to a waiting ambulance.

Ladybug watched, every fibre of her being screaming to jump into the ambulance and go with Adrien.  She would have liked nothing more.  But her presence at his side would have raised questions with his Father, questions she didn’t want the older man to even think of at this point.

She heard Lila cry out in surprise at finding out the teen model had been Chat Blanc all this time, that she had almost shot him.  There was certain sense of satisfaction at seeing Alya momentarily round on her and rip into the girl.  The truly satisfying part was seeing the officer whose gun she had taken put her in handcuffs.  Anyone who was anyone knew it was a criminal offense to steal a police officer’s sidearm with the intent to use it.  The heroine suppressed a chuckle that tickled her throat.

How was the little liar going to weasel her way out of that one?

Ladybug turned to the clamouring media shouting for her attention, demanding answers to their jockeying questions.  She held up her hands to silence them.

“Everything will be explained in due time,” she told them.  “For now, I ask that you give him some space, let Adrien recover from this ordeal.  He and I will make statements at a later date.  Thank you.”

It seemed to be enough for the reporters who, after scribbling notes or placing quick phone calls, began to disperse.

A quick flick of her yo-yo and Ladybug launched herself to the rooftops, heading home after such a long week.  She took a longer route, ensuring no one was following her, and then dropped lightly into an alleyway across the street from the bakery. 

Tikki flew into her hands once her transformation dropped.  The little being watched her Chosen glance at the bakery, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip.  She knew the girl wasn’t worried about going home.  She had a different worry in mind.

“I’m sure Adrien will be fine, Marinette.”

“I know, but I can’t help but feel it was wrong not to have stayed with him.”

“Alya, Nino and Luka will make sure to watch over him.  You basically told Alya everything she needed to know to protect him from his Father.  She is very protective of her friends.”

“Yeah, that’s a small comfort at least.”  She paused a moment.  “I feel bad for Luka.  I’m going to have to tell him that I choose Adrien.”

“He’ll understand,” the little kwami smiled gently.  “People like him never stay alone for very long anyway.”

“I hope he does find someone who makes him happy.”

“He will.  Have faith.”

Marinette nodded and opened her purse for Tikki to hide in.  Taking a final bracing breath for the onslaught of hugs and questions to come, the girl crossed the street for home.

*    *    *

Four days.

It took the remainder of the week plus the weekend before anyone heard from Adrien Agreste again.

Nino’s occasional texts to check on his best friend went unanswered.

Nothing was posted in the school chat room from the model.

Even Ladybug couldn’t get any news, each time she swung by on her patrol she found the blinds to his room shut tight.  And Chat Noir didn’t show up for his nightly rounds.

Marinette knew he had a lot to process if Plagg had told him anything of what had happened.  She had fully resigned herself to the fact that it would be very long time before Adrien would return to the school, or even patrols as Chat Noir.

So, as she walked up to greet Alya that morning, she was a little surprised to see a familiar sedan drive up to the curb.  The large Agreste bodyguard stepped out from the driver’s seat, giving the gathered students a cursory glance, before opening the backdoor.

And out stepped Adrien Agreste.

He barely took two steps before Nino was on him, wrapping him in the tightest welcome back hug a best friend could give.

“To be a fly on the wall during the talks be must have had with his Father,” Alya mused.

“Yeah, they must have been something.”

“Hey, you ever going to tell me what it was like being Chat Blanc’s captive?”

“I was never his captive, Alya.  He just wanted to protect me.  It’s that feeling that akumatized him, he couldn’t protect himself from his Father, but he was going to protect me.  Could easily have been you.”

Alya chuckled.  “I highly doubt that.”  Her phone suddenly pinged, calling her attention to a message now scrawled across the screen.  “First period’s been cancelled.  Seems Monsieur Terrault caught the flu this morning.”

“Poor man, he was so hoping to beat his record of more than two months without catching something.”

“He hasn’t caught an akuma yet, so that’s something.”

“Oh, Adrien!” a voice sing-songed loudly from down the sidewalk.

Both girls winced at the sound, at the false notes it hit all around while trying to sound sweet and innocent.

“I thought she wasn’t coming back for another week,” Marinette hissed at the sight of Lila Rossi all but skipping up to the school.

“She must have spun a really impressive lie to her Mom to be let off early.  That or her Mom doesn’t know the extent of things… yet.”

Since her detainment by the police for stealing and attempting to use an officer’s sidearm, Lila’s Mother had pulled her from the school in grounding.  She had been forbidden from using any social media, making any calls, sending any emails, or socializing with anyone while not in the presence of her Mother.  Rumor had it all her devices had been taken away to ensure this.

It was never a good thing for a diplomat for their children to be caught in a legal mess.

And taking an officer’s gun was no different than if Lila had actually used it.

Marinette was a little surprised the woman and her Daughter had been allowed to stay in France instead of being expelled.  She had to admit, diplomatic issues were never going to be one of her fortes, and no doubt there was still a lot more that needed to be done to have a diplomat expelled.

“Um, hi, Marinette,” someone greeted behind her just as she saw the Agreste bodyguard form a rather imposing wall to keep Lila away from Adrien.

The baker’s girl turned and blinked in surprise.

“Oh… um, hi, Luka.”

Alya smirked almost evilly.  “I’ll go say hi to Sunshine and leave you two alone.”

Before Marinette could stop her, the other girl jogged off.  She thought she saw a look of dejection cross Adrien’s face when he saw who she was standing with.  She felt her heart give a painful beat at that.

 “So, I was hoping we could get a chance to talk, after everything that happened lately,” Luka began, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

“Um, talk…”  She turned to face him again.  “About what?”

“Well… all of this got me thinking about things lately… about you.”

Her stomach clenched.  Oh, no…

“And, it made me realize… well, you’re an amazing girl, Marinette.  So talented and strong and brave.  And I really admire that.”

“Luka…”

“I hear such amazing music from you, a song that kind of just wraps around you, all warm and exciting.  So, I was wondering if, maybe, I could help you hear my song.”

“Your song…”

“Um, yeah, so we can try to get them to match up.”  He rubbed the back of his neck almost nervously.  “It was all so much easier having this conversation in my head.  But I thought a lot about this and… well… I would hope…  What I’m trying to ask is, will you be my girlfriend?”

And there it was.

She had wanted to hear that question, just not from him anymore.

There had been a time when she had entertained the idea of going out with the older teen, of letting herself try to forget a certain blond model she no longer believed would ever return her affections.

But this whole incident with Chat Blanc made her see Adrien had always been with her, if sometimes clad in magical black leather.

She closed his eyes and heaved a heavy breath.  “I’m… I’m sorry, Luka.”

She couldn’t look at him, didn’t want to see his shattering heart reflected on his face or in his eyes.

“You still love him, even after all this?” he questioned after what seemed like a long silence.

“I love him more, because of all this,” she freely admitted.

Luka looked at her for a long moment, listening to her heart-song calling out to the Agreste teen.  He should have known, should have heeded the fact that her song was not in tune with his own.

She was dancing to a different song, and his music didn’t work in that dance.

He huffed softly with a tiny smile.  “I had to give it a shot.  I hope he makes you happy, Marinette.”

There was no recrimination, no accusations in his voice.

“You’ll find someone, too, Luka.  I have faith that the girl you’ll find, she’ll make you very happy.”

He gripped her chin to force her to actually look at him.  He was smiling, albeit a bit sadly.

“I just wish it could have been you, angel.”

A light brush of his finger to her cheek and then Luka turned to walk away.

Marinette just stood there for what felt like an eternity, long after Luka disappeared down another street. 

She hurt him. 

He had failed to hide it convincingly. 

She had hurt him by not returning his feelings for her.  It’s not that she didn’t like him, she did.  He was a calming influence and quite creative in his own right. 

But it was just too hard to see him as a romantic interest. 

At Alya’s suggestion once, she had tried to replace Adrien with Luka in all her thoughts and dreams.

And failed.

It had merely made the Agreste teen all that more prominent in her mind.

What was the old saying?  The heart wants what the heart wants.

So why did it hurt so much to turn someone down?

The only consolation in all this was Hawk Moth was currently too injured from his encounter with Chat Blanc to try anything right now.

“So, what did he say?” Alya’s voice intruded into her thoughts.

Marinette huffed a small smile.  Leave it to the reporter in her friend to start demanding details even when it didn’t involve her.

“He wanted to ask me out.”

“And you said…?”

“I told him no.”

“What?  Why?”

Marinette frowned at her as she turned towards the school.  “You know why,” and she began climbing the stone steps.

“He could always be Plan B if things don’t work out.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to just string him along like that.”

“I guess… but aren’t you stringing yourself along waiting for Adrien?”

She shook her head.  “I’m stringing myself, maybe, but at least I have no one to blame but me.”

They joined Nino and Adrien already standing at the top of the stairs, waiting for them.  Marinette glanced back and almost laughed.  The Agreste bodyguard looked as if he was playing a game of keep-away with Lila, blocking her path with surprisingly more agility than she thought possible for such a large man.  As intimidating as he was, the man truly had Adrien’s best interests at heart.

She turned to the boy in question, finding him fidgeting nervously with the strap of his bag, looking every bit like a scared kitten trying to decide to stay or bolt, casting furtive glances at her.

“How are you feeling, Adrien?” she questioned, opening the conversation.

She blinked at herself when she noticed her stutter was non-existent.

He huffed a small laugh, his shoulders relaxing.  “I’m the one who should be asking you that, seeing everything that happened in the last week.”

Marinette smiled at him.  “Everyone’s been so worried about me, so let me be worried about you.  Really, how are you?”

“Well, I was hoping we could get a chance to talk about it all, and seeing as we now have a spare period…”

“Um… sure.”  She risked a glance at Alya and Nino and bit her lip from a thought.  “The quiet room in the library?”  When he gave a confused stare.  “We can talk there without Alya listening in and offering unsolicited advice on things that have nothing to do with her.”

“Hey, I…” but Alya stopped in realization.  “Oh,” and her shoulders dropped.

Nino laughed at his girlfriend.  “Dudette is right, Babe.  You have a tendency to snoop and get your nose into things you really shouldn’t.”

Alya curled onto herself with a sheepish grin of apology.

Moments after Marinette and Adrien left, Lila came jogging up to Alya and Nino, a huff directed back at the bodyguard currently re-taking his seat in the sedan and driving off.

“Having trouble with Gorilla?” Nino posed, unable to hide the slight glee in his tone.

If Lila caught it, she chose to ignore it. 

“I swear, he probably has a mental issue or something,” she replied indignantly.  “No matter how many times I repeated that I needed to speak with Adrien about our next photoshoot together, that man would just block my way.  I might just have to report him to Mister Agreste.”

Alya fought to keep her skeptical eyebrow from shooting up.  “Your next photoshoot with Adrien?”

The Rossi girl smiled brightly.  “Oh, yes!  Mister Agreste loved our last set together so much that he set up some time this weekend.  Unfortunately, my computer crashed, and I lost the email with the details of when and where.  Isn’t that just horrible?”

“So, why didn’t you email Nathalie?”

“I did, but for some reason my emails keep getting bounced back.  I even tried Mister Agreste directly, but I get the same thing.”

Nino’s brows furrowed, unable to mask his disbelief.  “You have Gabriel Agreste’s email?”

“Of course!” she smiled.  “He was so impressed with my look and style that he insisted I have a direct line to him.  I think he just wants to make sure I don’t start working for one of those other fashion houses trying to court me.  There are just so many that want me to model for their brand, and the money offers are borderline obscene!  But I am loyal to Agreste Design.”  She made a point of looking around curiously.  “Where did Adrien go?  I really need to talk to him about our next set.”

“Not happening, Rossi,” Alya countered, a little crisper than she had wanted to respond.  “Adrien is talking with Marinette right now and they don’t need anyone disturbing them.”

Lila seemed just a little too surprised to be genuine.  “Oh, I would have thought she would avoid him now after he kidnapped her.  That must have been so traumatizing for her, being taken hostage by an akuma, even if it was Adrien.  I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to back out of her duties as class president because of it.  If she’s too proud to do that, maybe we should all suggest it, you know, for her mental health and all.  What do you think they’re talking about?”

An evil smirk almost turned up the reporter’s lips.  “I don’t know, something about why he took her probably, and why exactly he felt the need to protect her so preciously.  Luka told us how Adrien was just so set on not letting anyone near her.  Chat Blanc had been ready to rip off Luka’s face had Mari not held Chat Blanc back and then told Luka to leave.  In fact, according to Luka, he looked positively possessive of our Mari and making sure she was safe.”

Nino heard the teasing lilt in Alya’s voice, noting the small twitch of annoyance at the corner of Lila’s eye, and understood.  “Yeah, I mean, before all this, my boy was starting to talk about Mari a lot, you know.  It was little things to start with: a praise here, an appreciation there.  I really don’t know what he was telling you, Lila, but to hear him talk to me about Mari, well, it really sounded like he was starting to really like her and was just working himself up to try to ask her out.”

Alya smirked, watching the girl with them trying not to frown.  “This is true.  Right now, he could be apologizing for his akumatized state, since that’s the kind of sweetheart he is, always taking the blame when it’s not his, and he might just segue into asking her out.  Now that would be so awesome!”

Lila seemed to gulp.  “What… what about Luka?”

“What about Luka?  Oh, right, you didn’t see this little talk Mari and Luka just had a few minutes ago, since you were trying to crawl over the Gorilla.  Seems Luka was asking her out, but Mari turned him down.  Seems, after all this, she’s still very much hooked on Adrien.”

Lila blinked, but quickly recovered to give a dismissive wave of her hand.  “Oh, but I’m sure that’s not why Adrien is talking to her.  He’s probably trying to let her down easy, away from everyone so she won’t make a scene.  I mean, he is my boyfriend after all.”

“So you say,” Nino muttered.

“Didn’t you know?  We’ve been secretly dating all these months, his idea to keep it secret since he didn’t want Marinette or the paparazzi to hear about it just yet.  He’s just so sweet, he probably wants to spare her the public humiliation.  He could be telling her about how he’s so madly in love with me, that photo from over a week ago is more than enough proof.  Or how she should move on, maybe go after Luka again…”

“Or they could be talking about the fact that you almost shot him four days ago when Ladybug cured him.”

Lila gasped, the dramatics almost over-inflated.  “I swear, I didn’t know it was Adrien!  Had I known, I wouldn’t have been so worried about protecting all those gathered people.  Nathalie kept telling me he was at a photoshoot in a secret location.  I would never hurt my sweet Adrien.”

Alya’s eyebrow shot up this time.  “Your sweet Adrien.”

“Oh, yes.  And we have a date this weekend.”

“I thought you had a photoshoot this weekend?”

“We do, the date is for afterwards.”

“And how did you plan this date since you haven’t been able to talk to my boy or anyone else in that house?” Nino asked, skepticism clear in his voice.  “You know, since he was akumatized for over a week and then incommunicado the last four days?”

Lila laughed a little nervously, but deflected the last part of the question.  “Oh, our date was planned a long time ago, before this whole mess with Hawk Moth,” she smiled innocently.  “We’re going to the Jagged Stone concert in Germany, flying out on Gabriel Agreste’s private jet, and then we’re flying out to New York for Sunday Brunch and some shopping.  Now, if you’ll excuse me…” and she walked away with a coy wave.

“Wow, she’s slick.”

“As an oil spill,” Alya near growled.  “Then we’ll just have to be slicker.”

*    *    *

Adrien closed the door to the quiet room, his hand hesitating over the lock for a moment.  There were just too many people in this school who could or would try to interrupt this conversation.  And he really needed to have this talk with Marinette. 

Alya was one, despite her assurances to stay away.  She was far too curious a nature, making her a dogged reporter, but it could make her annoying and nosey if she pushed too much.

Chloé would be hunting for him if the number of texts he got from her was any indication.  Despite her brash and often bullying nature to those around her, she cared. 

He couldn’t fault her for that, but it wasn’t needed at that moment.

And he knew Lila was on the prowl. 

She had texted constantly since his initial akumatization, unaware of what had happened to him.  And had bombarded his email account and his voice messages.  Since she had partly been the cause of everything, he had just deleted everything without reading or listening.  He had even convinced Nathalie to block the girl’s accounts from his own accounts.  It actually hadn’t taken much convincing; he had just approached the assistant about it and by the end of the day all communications from the Rossi girl had blissfully stopped.

But he couldn’t have her interrupting this, and he knew she would try if she found them.

So, he locked the door.

“Now, honestly, how are you feeling?” Marinette questioned, surprising him a little.

He had to think about it for a beat. 

Everyone around him had been so careful, walking on eggshells about conversation topics to have or avoid.  Everyone at the house hadn’t even dared to breathe a word about the akumatization.  Except for Plagg, no one asked him how he felt.  Everyone, even on the news, seemed more concerned about the girl currently with him, wondering how she was dealing with everything.

So to finally be asked…

“Honestly?...  I don’t know.  How am I supposed to feel?”  He crossed the room and sank heavily into one of the oversized beanbags on the floor.  “Everything is so messed up right now, I’m not sure what to feel...  Sad?  Angry?  Scared?  Maybe a bit vengeful?”

Marinette sat in the beanbag next to his, folding into it far more elegantly.  “Any of those feelings, or a combination of, would be about right.”  She smirked, lightly poking his arm.  “Except that last one, that’s just not you.”

He huffed a tiny smile.  “With everything, it could be.  It’s just so… surreal.  I was akumatized.  Me!  And I get flashes now and then of how it was.  Running the rooftops.  Scaring civilians that got too close...”  He looked at her then.  “I didn’t scare you, did I?   Or hurt you?” and he hesitantly ghosted his fingers over the remnant of the bruise on her forehead.

“No, you were the perfect gentleman, um, gentle-cat.  You kept saying you needed to protect me, to keep me safe.  And you did save me from two guys who had less than pleasant intentions after I left Alya’s that first night.”

“And then I kidnapped you, kept you from going back home and to family for over a week.  What does that say about me?”

“That you thought I was safer with you than anyone else anywhere in the city.  Not far from the truth, really.  At that moment, no one in the city was more powerful than you so no one could do anything to hurt me.”

“But I kept you from your family.”

“You didn’t really do anything to stop me from leaving.  I could have left anytime.  I stayed all on my own because I knew you needed my help.  Think back, Luka showed up to try to take me home, but I told him to leave since I was staying right there with you.  I didn’t want to leave.”

He looked away then, absently plucking at his jeans.  “I saw you talking to Luka a little earlier.”

She looked down at her hands.  “Yeah.”

“Can… can I ask what he wanted?  I mean, you don’t have to tell me, it’s really none of my business.  You know what, never mind, forget I asked.”

Inwardly, she felt it was endearing to hear him ask so timidly, half knowing she could just tell him it wasn’t his business.  At that thought she realized this was no doubt how Gabriel Agreste had treated his Son his entire life.

Marinette was decided.

No secrets.

“He wanted to ask me to be his girlfriend,” she admitted.

He blinked, not daring to look up just yet.  “Oh.”

Marinette had to fight with the urge to run a reassuring hand through his hair at the dejected look he was sporting. 

Did he really have feelings for her? 

Or was she seeing something she had hoped to see?

“I told him no,” she opted to respond instead, absently twisting her fingers together to keep them busy.

His head snapped up at her in surprise.  “What?  Why?  I thought you liked him.”

She sunk a little in her seat.  “I do… just not in that way.  I’m mean, he’s really nice and all, and a great musician and listener.  He’s a calming influence, but I don’t need calm or being zen, I can do that on my own.  I need a compliment, not someone like me.  I just can’t see myself with him.  He’s not the one.”

Adrien looked down at his hands, part of him suddenly confused.  He knew she liked – loved – someone, everyone around them had hinted as much.  The class often seemed to buzz when the topic of Marinette’s love interest came up.  He was sure it had to be Luka now since Chat Noir had turned her down a few months before.  She had just looked so comfortable around him all the time.

“Don’t suppose you talked to your Father?” he heard her timid question.

He wanted to growl.  “He doesn’t deserve the title Father.”

“Because he caused you to be akumatized?” came her careful question.  “Or because he’s Hawk Moth?”

His expression was both shocked and terrified when his head snapped up to face her. 

But there was none of the recrimination or horror he had expected to see in all the scenarios he had run through his mind the last four days, of how he was going to explain this to anyone in his small circle of friends. 

She was just so calm.

“You know?”

“I know.  He tried to use me as bait to get you back and I saw.  He was testing out a new kind of akuma and his new white akuma wasn’t turning out as gloriously as he had hoped, or maybe it was all because of you.  For someone who was akumatized, I have to admit, you were very strong, and maybe a little stubborn, to always resist him like you did.”

“I think, deep down, part of me knew it was him.  I just didn’t want to believe it.  I was afraid to believe it, I think.  That he could ever do that to Paris, or even to me… for what?  To get two Miraculous gems that might or might not bring back my Mother?  Basically, sacrifice me and an entire city for her?  She’s dead, why can’t he just leave her in peace?”

“Grief makes people do stupid and crazy things.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“Never said it does.”

He sighed heavily before looking at her almost critically.

“What?” she blinked.

“Just wondering…  Usually you’re a nervous mess around me.”

She almost laughed at that.  “Understatement of the decade.”

“So, what changed?”

She smirked ruefully.  “Well, I did just spend an entire week as your ward.  That tends to take the nerve out of you.”

“Chat Blanc’s ward,” he corrected.

“It was still you, deep down.  You fought off the akuma enough to stay you, if not with a bit more feline tendencies than I was used to seeing from you.”  Her smile became a little coy.  “But Chat Blanc was still my Kitty.”

He cocked his head at that in confusion, blinking at her blankly. 

There was an inside joke somewhere in that comment.

She smirked at that.  “How much did Plagg explain to you about that last week?”

“Not as much as you’d think, he can be stingy with information—” and he suddenly froze, realizing his mistake too late, a hand slapping down on his cackling kwami hidden in his shirt. 

He had let slip about his knowledge of the kwami, about his kwami.

And then something struck him and he almost frowned.  “How do you know about Plagg?”

She merely smiled gently.  “I did say I spent an entire week as your ward.  Plagg showed himself within the first few minutes, almost acting like you moral compass, if you can believe it.”

“Hey!” the kwami complained.  “I happen to have an excellent sense of morality.  We kwami practically invented it, you know.”

“Yet you have adhered to it rather loosely,” Marinette shot back.  Then, looking back to Adrien, “And he and I have had dealings from time to time in the past in your absence.”

“Did… did he tell you…?”

“That you’re Chat Noir?  No.”

He frowned in confusion.  “Then how…?”

She pulled her purse up from her hip, holding it up to him as she opened it.  “You’re not the only one with a kwami, Kitty.”

He stared at the little being staring up at him, waving happily.

A little red being.

With bright blue eyes.

And a large black spot on its forehead.

Adrien felt his brain begin to fry, threatening to shut down and maybe reboot if he was that lucky.  Marinette put her purse aside after Plagg dove inside, giving the kwami some time alone after the last week and four days.  Adrien’s eyes were fixed on the purse for the longest time, trying to come to terms with what he had just seen.

It couldn’t be…

Fragile mess of a Marinette…

Strong class president of a Marinette…

His cute, adorable classmate…

The girl who had been progressively confusing his feelings all this time…

He met her patient gaze.

“Ladybug?”

Her smile widened just slightly.  “Hi, Kitty.”

And, for the longest time, he just stared at her.

A nervous giggle escaped her lips after a moment.  “Well?  Say something, you’re starting to give me a complex,” and she abruptly squeaked when he lunged at her.

Somehow, he got them rearranged on her beanbag so they reclined comfortably, she was in his lap while he was practically wrapped around her, his face buried on her shoulder.  She laughed at him softly, carding her fingers through his hair in a gentle scratch.  He cuddled her close, never wanting to let her go.

“All this time,” he muttered into the crook of her neck, soothed by the feel of her fingers and the scent of bread and pastries that seemed to permeate her.  “You were in my class.  You were sitting behind me this whole time.  My everyday Ladybug was really my Ladybug.  To think, I was still trying to protect my partner, My Lady, without even knowing it was you.”

“Part of you knew, I think.”  She smoothed her cheek over his forehead.  “It tore me apart to let you go to the hospital without me when I knew your Father might be showing up.”

He huffed.  “He never did show up.”

“Mm, that was a possibility considering the thrashing you gave him in that last fight.”

He pulled back to look at her.  “I beat him up?”

She smirked.  “And how!  Since Ladybug wasn’t around, there was no Miraculous Cure to fix his wounds.  I imagine he’s trying to hide five pretty deep slashes across his chest.”

Adrien blinked.  “I did that?  Wow!  That explains why he’s been a little stiff… well… stiffer lately.”  He snuggled back against Marinette, gently nosing the edge of her jaw, breathing in deep of the scent of the bakery that clung to her skin.  “I can’t help but feel a little bit satisfied that I beat the tar out of him.  There’s a kind of poetic justice there.”

She tittered softly.  “He’ll definitely think twice about akumatizing his own Son again.”

An undignified snort was his only response.

“How is everything at home though?” she pressed.  “I don’t expect any of this has changed things much.”

Adrien signed heavily.  “Not so that anyone on the outside would notice, no.  I noticed.  He’s more… contrite.  I can see why now, though.  When I got home, he was at the top of those damned stairs and I was so sure he was going to start dishing out a new set of rules and punishments because I let myself be weak and got akumatized.  I could already hear his voice saying an Agreste has to be strong.  Instead, he apologized.”

“Really?”

“Just like that.  He said he was wrong for what he did to me, both for akumatizing me and treating me the way he had all those years.  He had been led to believe things from certain individuals that this was all in my best interests, that the restrictions he imposed were needed to ensure I wouldn’t be an embarrassment to the Agreste name.”

“You are not an embarrassment,” she assured firmly.  “If anything, he’s the one who’s an embarrassment to the human race.  The things he’s put you through…  Had I known that was your life when Chat Noir you complained about your civilian life while we were on patrol…”

She tightened her arms around him, scratching intricate patterns against his scalp.

He sighed blissfully, enjoying the attention for a moment.  “Can I ask you something, My Lady?”

“Of course.”

“Well…”  He sat up slightly.  “You’ve always said there was someone you loved, and that was the reason you were turning down Chat.  I thought it was Luka, but you just told him no.”

She smirked, knowing his train of thought.  “You want to know who I love?”

“I mean, no pressure or anything.  If you don’t want to tell me…”

Marinette smiled softly, taking his hands to stop him from babbling himself out of the question.  “The boy I fell in love with gave me his umbrella on his first day of school after he apologized for a misunderstanding we had.”

The confusion written on his face made Adrien look so painfully adorable.  Green eyes blinked quickly, trying to make sense of what she had just told him. 

He had given her an umbrella. 

They had a misunderstanding on his first day of school.

Did this mean…?

A heavy sigh sounded from the girl’s purse.  “For the love of…  She means you, you idiot!” Plagg yelled as Tikki giggled.

“Me?  Really?” 

His voice had gone high pitched in surprise.

Marinette nodded, trying not to laugh.

His expression became puzzled.  “Wait, so all this time, you’ve been rejecting me… for me?”

This time she did laugh.  “I think you and I have a lot to talk about, Kitty.”

*    *    *

Lila scoured every inch of the school she could access, on a singular mission to find where Adrien and Marinette had sequestered themselves to talk.  Leaving those two alone together was dangerous.  Lila vividly remembered the train trip to London when Marinette had fallen asleep on his shoulder and he promptly fell asleep on Marinette.

They were far too comfortable with each other then.

She would not have them get any more comfortable now.

It didn’t matter what Gabriel Agreste said or that he decided she was no longer wanted at the manor or during photoshoots.  If she could make Adrien love her, the old man would have no choice but to allow her back into the fold.

But making Adrien love her would be difficult if she couldn’t find him.

Lila entered the library, taking a quick glance at her phone to ensure she could make it to her next class in time.

Fifteen minutes to go.

Enough time to check the study rooms and more private corners before heading to the next class, and hope to have some time with Adrien during the rest of the day.  He was too much of a softy to completely ignore her, regardless of what his Father told him.

The quieter corners of the library were empty, as were the first two of the study rooms she checked by bursting into each as if nothing was.

It was the third room that nearly made her shriek.

Through the narrow window in the door, Lila spied the targets of her search.  They were cuddled warmly together on one of the beanbag chairs, talking softly about something that even pressing her ear to the door, Lila couldn’t make out their conversation. 

Damn the school for sound-proofing these rooms. 

Yes, it made it easier for students to study or decompress after a test, but it made her spying all that much more difficult.

She tried the doorknob as carefully and quietly as she could, intending to burst in if they had been careless enough to leave it unlocked.

They weren’t careless.

Part of her wanted to start pounding on the door to break them apart from the cozy scene, but then she would have to come up with a plausible explanation to convince these two skeptics as to why she needed access to the room they happened to be in.

Especially since there were others currently empty.

So, she decided to watch.

Rossi saw Marinette say something to Adrien and he snuggled closer against her as if in protest.  It looked like she laughed as she reached for her purse, pulling out her phone to show him the screen.  Adrien pouted in response, slowly beginning to disentangle himself from the baker’s girl and sitting up.  They spoke for a moment more, and then the boy got to his feet, pulling the girl up afterwards.

Lila felt her ire rise by another notch when he pulled Marinette close to nuzzle the crook of her neck, causing this one to giggle and squirm as if tickled.

That was new for them… and dangerous to Lila’s plans.

He couldn’t be falling for the girl now.  Lila still had plans to fulfill and he was a very needed cog to her success.

The Italian girl ducked out of sight as the pair approached the door, hiding just around a corner to still be able to hear and clandestinely watch them.

“So, any plans on what you’re going to do now?” she heard Marinette question.

“For now, I think I’ll let him stew about what I might do,” Adrien replied, making a point to hook her arm through his to keep her at his side as they walked.  “He’s been doing that to me for as long as I can remember.  Let’s see how much he likes it for a change.”

Lila kept a discrete distance, masterfully drawing no attention to herself.

Marinette huffed softly.  “He deserves a lot worse.”

“Oh, this isn’t even the tip of how much I plan to make him suffer.  I’ve had the last four days to dream up a few things and my moral compass was a big help.”

“Call me before you set anything into motion, I want to record it so we can watch it over and over again.”

Adrien laughed at the girl’s giddiness and Lila felt something tickle her heart. 

His laughter truly was a glorious sound.

But who were they talking about?

Who was going to be the recipient of their wrath and why did that make them both happy at the prospects?

She stayed close to the class’s windows to see and hear inside as the pair walked in.  At the front of the class, Lila spied Alya seated next to Nino, both teens engaged in a conversation of their own involving something on Alya’s phone.  No doubt some news about Ladybug that the girl would use on her blog.  Lila would have to start a new rumour about the heroine to discredit her somehow, or insert herself as a needed helper to the Heroes of Paris.

“Oh, hey, Dudes!” Nino greeted cheerily.  “Hope you don’t mind if Alya sits with me today?”

“No problem, Nino,” Adrien replied, glancing at Marinette.  “I was hoping we could switch anyway.”

Lila watched Dupain-Cheng take her regular seat with the Agreste teen now at her side, the boy sitting closer to her than was strictly necessary. 

Rossi frowned.

Except for the Lahiffe boy, Adrien had always kept a very generous distance from anyone who sat next to him.  This even included Chloé.  And the distance he kept from Lila herself had forced her more than once to scoot closer.

But he was almost shoulder to shoulder with Marinette and willingly.

“You two seem chummy,” Alya cooed knowingly.  “Good talk?”

 “Needed talk,” Marinette replied.

“Pray, do tell,” she urged, leaning a cheek to her hand in eager anticipation.

Lila grinned. 

Leave it to Alya to get right to the point of something new without realizing how intrusive she was being.

Adrien and Marinette shared a look before smiling at the reporter.

“No,” they answered as one.

Nino barked in laughter and Alya pouted, unable to stop the slight smirk tugging the corners of her lips.

Lila decided that was good moment to enter the class.  It was obvious whatever the pair had talked about would be kept private for the time being. 

Schooling her expression to one of sweet ignorance to anything she had witnessed and heard, putting on a bright smile, Rossi sauntered into the classroom as if nothing was.  She offered a bubbly greeting to the entire room, one returned by all but the four at the front of the class.  She chose to ignore that snub as she moved to the central aisle to make her way to the back of the class.

Mildly she noted how Marinette kept her bag tucked at her feet with her purse between her and Adrien.

Smart move.

It mitigated anything Lila might have tried to do with either one of those bags. 

A claim of a personal item suddenly going missing after that item was surreptitiously placed in a bag was often a good way to knock a reputation down by a few notches.  Theft was always frowned on.  Marinette would have to leave these bags unattended and someplace Lila could get to for that scenario to happen.

And the school had fixed the locks on all the lockers since the last time Lila had accused and recanted her claim of theft against Marinette.

“Is something wrong, Lila?” Rose’s voice cut through her scheming suddenly.

The girl waved off the petit blonde with a smile, her mind already forming a plan on how to use the class’s desire to be helpful to anyone and everyone. 

“Oh, it’s nothing to bother anyone with.”

“No, really, it looked like it was something important.”

“Well…”  She cast a quick glance to Marinette and Adrien, schooling her expression to look dejected.  “I just thought he loved me, that’s all.”

Juleka cocked her head.  “Who?”

“Adrien.  I mean, all the dates we went on, all the texts…”  She congratulated herself for the solitary tear that trailed down her cheek.  “I guess it didn’t mean as much to him as it did to me.”

“Did he break up with you?” Rose queried.

“He didn’t say anything, but…”

She pointed to where Adrien was currently wrapped around Marinette, an enchanted smile on his face at the blushing mess in his arms.

Lila sniffed for added effect.  “His bodyguard wouldn’t even let me near him this morning when he arrived.  It’s as if he suddenly decided I wasn’t important to him anymore.”

Juleka frowned slightly.  “Wait, when did you and Adrien begin dating?”

“Oh, months ago now.  When I first arrived in Paris.  We just had so much in common that we hit it off right away.  Why?”

“You mean before he went out with Kagami Tsurugi?”

Lila felt a warning chill race up her spine.  “Wh-Who?”

“Right, Kagami!” Rose beamed.  “You haven’t met her since she doesn’t go to our school.  She’s in Adrien’s fencing class.  Juleka mentioned her when we were mobilizing the class to help look for Chat Blanc last week, remember?”

“She’s in his fencing class?” Rossi repeated slowly, absorbing this information slower than she would have liked.

Juleka nodded.  “Comes from a long line of champion fencers.  Her Grandfather has held the title of World Champion for decades now, unbeaten save by Kagami’s own blind Mother.”

“He asked her out on a date,” Rose continued.  “But being a little clueless of what to do, he asked Marinette for help and they all ended up going skating, with Luka too.  At the time we tried to make plans to help break them up, because we wanted to help Marinette, but Marinette convinced us to back down.  Except maybe Alya since she can be a little stubborn.”

Lila’s mind scrambled to come up with something.  “O-oh!  That Kagami!” she faked.  “Yes, Adrien told me all about her.  He said they never really dated, she was just a friend who was willing to hang out with him who didn’t care about his name or social status.”

Rose blinked innocently.  “Really?  But I thought—”

“No, up until now he was madly in love with me.  I mean, you all saw the picture, right?  Of us in bed?”

From one row up, Alix snorted.  “We saw you in the bed, but there was no sign of anyone else there with you.”

Lila allowed herself a small frown.  “It was taken from his phone and in his room.”

Alix turned and glared at her.  “You really have no idea about the modelling world, do you?”

Rossi made an insulted sound of disbelief.  “And you do?”

“Obviously more than you.  Which is saying a lot, all things considered.” 

“What does modelling have to do with this?”

She rounded out of her seat to plunk her tiny frame down in the seat next to Lila.  “I know for a fact, that day, Adrien wasn’t even at home.”

The chill returned.  “O-oh?  And how are you so sure?”

Alix was going to reply, but a voice to her left beat her to it.

“Because he was at the Louvre’s Richelieu wing for a fashion shoot amongst the sculptures,” Nathaniel stated, never looking up from the sketch he was currently working on. 

Alix merely held a hand out to him to say that was the response she was also going to give, smiling almost evilly.

Lila’s frown deepened.  “And why should we believe you?”

The smirk widened on the petite skater’s lips.  “My Father is the curators for the Egyptian Antiquities in the Sully wing.  Nate and I were hanging out in the section for seventeenth- and eighteenth-century objets d’art so he could sketch a few of them out for reference, when my Dad came in to tell us not to go to the Richelieu wing.  Turns out a whole slew of Agreste lackies had permission to shut it down for a glam piece.  No phones allowed for the duration to keep it hush-hush and secret.”

“The shoot was ten hours long that day,” Nathaniel continued.  He looked up to where Adrien was sitting.  “Never knew how hard he had it doing some of those sets.”

Lila remembered that now.  She had heard some of the makeup artists from her last set with Adrien buzzing about a new line that was going to be showcased and how the shoot was going to be glam-meets-classic.  She had wondered why she hadn’t been invited to model for that set, but when it had offered her a perfect opportunity to insert herself into Adrien’s life, she hadn’t given it a second thought.

In hind-sight, maybe she should have.

“So, you see, Lila,” Alix grinned.  “There is no way you could have snogged blondie over there like you say you did… unless it was a clone… or Felix… left behind in a quasi-empty house… for you to boink with dear old Dad in the other room since the man never leaves Agreste Manor.”

Nathaniel traced a long curving line on the page.  “Didn’t I see a retraction in those online gossip magazines about that photo?  Something about Agreste’s legal team calling it a fake with the same explanation we just gave?”

Alix looked to be enjoying herself far too much, especially since Nathaniel was joining in with his tailored deadpan delivery of his parts to this tale.

“That’s true!  Something about a possible number of charges against whoever didn’t remove the picture from their publications or websites, calling it tantamount to child porn.”

“Also, the promise of charges against the one who broke into the Agreste Manor and took that photo.”

Lila sunk a little in her seat.

She hadn’t yet been approached by any police or legal representatives about that picture.

“Well, now you’re just trying to scare me,” she scoffed, hoping to divert attention away.  “If they were going to charge me, wouldn’t they have done it by now?”

“Not necessarily,” Juleka answered plainly.  “I watch that show from the States, First Forty-Eight.  It’s a reality show about police criminal procedures.  If their system is anything even remotely similar to ours, the police are probably collecting enough evidence so when they do end up charging someone, you or someone else, the charge will stick.”

The Kubdel girl clapped her hands together as if praying, imploring towards the ceiling almost in desperation.  “Please…  Please!  Let me be there when that happens.”

Lila scowled at the four of them.  “You’re all just so mean!  Go away!” and she turned her nose up to them in disdain.

Nathaniel went back to his sketching as if nothing was.

Juleka and Rose merely shrugged to each other and turned in their seats to face the front of the class.

Alix merely smiled devilishly, casually placing her hands behind her head as she sauntered back to her seat, an air of victory surrounding her.

Rossi counted to five after this last one sat down, then glared at the back of Marinette’s head.  The threat of legal ramifications aside, she still had to plan a way to get the baker’s girl away from the teen model.  Her plans for the future hinged on being at his side, of having the world linking her with him.

She pursed her lips at the prospects of being charged with a crime.

That was definitely something that had never happened to her before.  Her Mother had been convincing enough to the gendarmerie for that gun incident a few days ago, getting her off on a warning only.

She had come close in Italy so many times before, but she had been clever then and nothing could be traced back to her.

This last photo she took unfortunately could be traced to her, all through a simple logistical miscalculation on her part.

The trick now was figuring out a way to twist this situation in a different direction so she would be beyond blame.

It would be tricky and would require every ounce of subterfuge and deceit she had ever learned.

And she would need a target to turn this onto.

Lila had much to plan for.

And she had no idea how much time she had to get it all ready.

Chapter Text

“I get the feeling you created a very tight contract with your Father about what you know,” Ladybug smiled.

Her head was pillowed on his arm as they both lounged on a rooftop in the early evening.  The air was still warm, a light breeze bringing little relief to the bright heat of the day. 

It had been nearly a week since Adrien returned to school after being transformed into Chat Blanc. 

And it was nearly a week since the last akuma or amok had been unleashed onto the city.

During that time, Adrien had milked every second of his newfound freedom.  Knowing his Father was Hawk Moth gave him a distinct power over the older man, driving a few points into him that his plans could be derailed at any moment.

Adrien also enjoyed the newfound closeness he shared with Marinette now that they knew each other’s Miraculous identity.  He couldn’t have been more shocked and overjoyed to learn that Ladybug, his Lady, had been so close all this time.  That the one girl who had started to mean so much more than a friend had always been more than a friend.

It was a blessing.

He began purring softly before he even realized it, and for once he didn’t feel embarrassed.

“Hey!” Ladybug called gently, poking his side.

“Hrrm?” he purred.

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”  There was no recrimination in her voice, only an amused smile.

His own smile broadened, still purring.  “I am a cat who is warrrm and in the company of his most favorrrite Lady in the whole Univerrrse.  I may have spaced out frrrom the contentment.”

She giggled and rolled against his side, an arm draped over his chest.  “Silly Kitty.”

Curling his arm around her shoulders to keep her close, Chat Noir took a moment to enjoy how she fit against him and how warm she felt.  Her petite frame felt like the most fragile thing under his arm, but he knew she could easily deadlift and throw a car in a pinch if the situation called for it. 

Terrifying strength wrapped in red latex-like material.

He nuzzled her bangs tenderly, breathing in the familiar scent that he now recognized as a magical mix of Ladybug and Marinette.

“You werrre saying something…” he prompted.

“Just wondering something.”

“Wonderrring what?”

“Well…  It’s been a week now and your Father hasn’t tried anything.  God knows Chloé’s riled up enough people to be akumatized, and Lila seems to be really frustrated about something these days…”

“And?”

“And, it’s just not like him to let potential akuma victims just slip by.  What did you do?”

He chuckled low.  “I may orrr may not have made Fatherrr agrrree to a few terrrms.  If he doesn’t follow them exactly as stipulated, his little secrrret may orrr may not find its way to the worrrld media via one mass emailing.”

Ladybug sat up in surprise, gaping down at her partner.  “You’re blackmailing him?”

He frowned, scrunching up his nose in distaste, his purr stopping.  “That’s such a bad sounding word: blackmailing.  I prefer strategic negotiations with tangible consequences.  I even worded it that way to him since all he seems to understand are big legal sounding terms.”

“So… he akumatizes anyone and…?”

“The world medias get nice little press packages about his activities from the last year.  It’s all up on an anonymous Cloud account that Max helped me set up.  The only time my name shows up is when it’s mailed out.”

“Clever,” she marvelled, the smile returning to her lips.

“This also applies to that partner of his, Mayura.  She creates even one amok or sentimonster at any given time and the message goes out.”

“What about their Miraculous gems?”

“Nooroo actually wants to stay with Father.  I think maybe he has Stockholm syndrome, Plagg said he’d work on him.  And I have no idea who’s wearing the Peacock to get her to give it up.  Father is being quietly stubborn about who she is, but she has to be someone close, someone he trusts.  I’m kind of inclined to say it’s Nathalie.”

“That… that makes sense, actually.  There’s nothing about your family that she doesn’t know.”

“Well, if she is Mayura, she’s under the same conditions as my Father.  They can’t cause any problems within the range of their Miraculous gems.”

“So, until that happens…?”

He smirked, crossing his arms behind his head in satisfaction.  “You and I get to enjoy a long and much needed break from any possible akuma or amok.  That the city gets to enjoy that too is just a bonus.  It’s about time this city is allowed to feel again.”

“Why, Mister Agreste!  How terribly dastardly of you!” she laughed, letting herself fall onto his chest to hug him.

Holding her against himself, he rolled over to pin her to her back and grinned down at her playfully.  “Tell me you’re not just dying for a vacation from all this.”

She sighed a whimsical smile.  “No, you’re right, I would love a vacation.  With what we’ve gone through this last year, some rest and relaxation would be so worth it.  Somewhere far from Paris for a little while at least.  Maybe a minimum of a week…”

“I would say at least two.”

“Okay, maybe two,” she chuckled.

“Warm blue water, soft white sand…”

“No akumas, no worries…”

“Hammock naps at any time of the day…”

“Sweet drinks with little umbrellas in them…”  Another sigh in dreamy bliss.  “That would be fantastic.”

“Think I could convince him to lend me the jet?”

“Mm, I wouldn’t push it… yet,” and they both giggled.

He gently nuzzled a spot behind her ear.  “Now all we need to worry about is her.”

She heard the distaste in his voice, immediately knowing who he was referring to.  “Lila,” she spoke in agreement.  “Alya says she seems to be building some sort of campaign to get back into your Father’s good graces.  Supposedly she caught her emailing up a storm from the school’s library.”

Adrien snorted softly into the crook of her neck.  “It’s all in Legal’s hands now.  I told him that if insists on putting her in his photo spreads with me, I will dye my hair bright green and go Goth.”

Ladybug couldn’t help but chuckle, teasing a lock of his hair.  “That’s hardly a threat, you look so good in black and green, Kitty.”

“Oh, I know that.”  There was exaggerated confidence in his tone.  “But the style just doesn’t work for the Agreste fashion line.  Father now has all her accounts blocked.  Even if she comes up with a new one, the second he finds out it’s her, he has it blocked like the rest.”

A gloved hand thread through his thick hair, tracing gentle scratches from the base of his skull to his crown.  The tensing muscles she had felt from him slackened while his arms tightened around her form. 

This had been their routine almost every night that week. 

They would begin with a patrol of the city, making a point to show up at the Agreste Manor to make sure Gabriel Agreste was very aware they were watching him, before choosing a random spot in the city away from prying eyes to just lounge and relax and talk.

Often, they would just end up like this, cuddled together in silence as one or the other would attempt to relax the other. 

It made it easier now, knowing each other’s identity.

As Marinette, Ladybug could see Adrien have a particularly trying day at school from media or just the other students.  During school, she could offer a quick hug with a look that promised more affection during their patrol.  It was often enough to chase away the gloom that surrounded him, for a little while.

As Adrien, Chat Noir saw when Marinette became overwhelmed from her overly creative mind taking on too many projects at once.  He had to talk her out of two rather massive projects, the last one just earlier today, convincing her to hand them over to others considering she had very little time in her schedule. 

They later found out those two projects actually belonged to Lila who was trying to foist them specifically onto Marinette in an effort to break her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice how bad she had it out for you,” he muttered softly into the collar of her suit.

“Not your fault, Adrien.  She was very good at making herself out to be the victim, no matter the situation.”

“I didn’t help you, though, like I said I would.  I just…”  He rolled to his back with a disgruntled breath.  “All my life I’ve been told to not cause trouble, be meek, be seen only.  All I’ve had were manga and the internet to tell me how to be socially.”

She turned to face him, a hand to his heart, but said nothing to let him continue.  He absently toyed with her fingers for a moment.

“Everything I ever saw or read said to just go along with it, that eventually people like her would realize all on their own that what they were doing was wrong.  I really thought her lies weren’t hurting anyone.  That if we just let her be, we were preventing akumas and letting her come to some lofty inevitable conclusion.  I guess none of my so-called sources on the matter ever had to deal with a true narcissistic sociopath.”

When he fell silent, she tugged at his hand.  “Hey,” she whispered, pulling him to be forehead-to-forehead with her.  “I forbid you from even thinking about taking the blame for all this.”

“But she hurt you, My Lady, and all because I did nothing.”

“I wouldn’t say nothing.  I know you were the reason she used a lie to get me reinstated after my suspension.  And I know you did your best to out her lies too, even when she twisted them on themselves to suit her.  Besides, she attacks me because she sees she’s losing.  And she would’ve found another way, or made you a target too if you confronted her like I did.”

“I would have been okay being a target if it got her away from you.”

“But I wouldn’t have been okay with it.”  She cupped his face in her hands, thumbs light and gentle as they skimmed the bottom edge of his mask.  “You put up with so much…”

“Habit.”

“Bad habit.  It made you a prime target for her to use you.”

A small smile touched his lips.  “I have a really big reason to stand up to her now.  I have you.”

She returned the smile.  “You’ve always had me, Kitty.”

“I want to make it official.”

She blinked, pulling back slightly to see the almost giddy and hopefully expression on his face.

“Official?” she questioned.

“I want to be shellfish for once.  I don’t want to share you.  I want the world to know that Adrien Agreste is with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I also want them to know Chat Noir is with Ladybug.”

“As in dating?”  She couldn’t keep the squeak of surprise out of her voice.

“Dating.  Going steady.  Exclusive.  Can… can we…?”

She felt the blush rushing over her face and up her ears as a laugh forced itself from her throat.  His shocked and slightly disappointed expression forced her a little bit sober, but her utter giddiness remained.

“No, Kitty, no, I’m not laughing at you, I swear,” she laughed, cupping his cheeks.  “I have just wanted to hear you say that since the first day of school.”

He brightened.  “Really?”

“Really.  I’ll gladly be your girlfriend.  I told you, you are the boy I love.”  She suddenly stopped laughing at a realization.  “Oh, but we don’t actually say it, do we?  Well, let me fix that.”  Ladybug urged his face towards hers, lightly bumping her nose to his.  “I love you, Chat Noir, my shining knight.  I love you, Adrien Agreste, My Prince.”

Feline pupils dilated wide at the admission, the hint of awed tears building in his eyes.

And the term of endearment she just used…

My Prince.

Oh, how he just adored the girl!

“My Lady…” he breathed, forcing his voice over the lump in his throat.  He crushed her close, letting the tears fall, wrapping himself around her as best he could.  “I love you, both of you, all of you.”

Ladybug felt her heart give a painful squeeze at how gutted he had looked at that moment.  It was as if he had never heard the words, or it had been a lifetime since anyone had said anything so profound to him.

Given any chance at all, she would beat Gabriel Agreste to a bloody pulp for having treated his Son so poorly for so long.

Ever so tenderly she pushed his bangs out of his face and pressed her cheek to his forehead, fingers gently toying with the base of his cat ears.

“My perfect, perfect kitten,” she breathed, placing a light kiss just above his mask.

Chat Noir made a broken little sound, holding her tighter, and her heart gave another squeeze.

She made herself a promise then. 

She would make sure to always tell him she loved him, at the very least twice a day: the first would be the moment she saw him; and the second would be before the end of the day, either by text or in person.  But she would never not tell him just how much he was loved. 

He deserved no less.

*    *    *

The woman looked down her nose at the teen smiling before her.  She adjusted her thin glasses with a small sound of disdain.

“Wait here, someone will come speak to you shortly,” and she quickly retreated from the office, closing the door behind her.

Lila Rossi’s pleasant mask fell away and she glared at the drab pane of wood.  This was not how this was supposed to work out.

She had failed the entire week to gain access to Agreste Manor despite her perfect acting skills putting on impassioned pleas to speak to Gabriel Agreste.

At school, Adrien had been glued to Dupain-Cheng’s side practically at every given second.  Even during the few classes the pair didn’t share, Adrien seemed to vanish until the very start of class and be the first one to leave the moment the end of class bell rang.

It was only through sheer persistence, something Lila was not used to and found very exhausting, that she had even gained access to Agreste Design’s main office.

But for this she would be persistent.

Her future at the top of the social ladder demanded it.

She had hoped to be taken to Gabriel’s office, not this small office of some lower officer at the company.  The assistant wasn’t as dragon-esque as Nathalie Sanscoeur, though it was clear she was also not used to having someone interrupt her duties.  Lila made a mental note to try to win this woman with a contrite apology later once she had a chance to convince whoever this particular official was that being banned from anything tied to the Agrestes was just a tiny misunderstanding.

Lila had a script ready.

Every response possible was accounted for.

Hopefully this person held enough clout to be listened to.

She wandered the office while going over her mental notes.  The room was rather spartan for an Agreste employee.  Lila had always believed designers were an eccentric bunch with their workspaces a mess of papers and fabric.  Much like what Alya had described Dupain-Cheng’s room as being.  It was why Lila had made a point of staging her room to resemble the same in Instagram pictures, if not with a lot less pink as the baker girl’s room.

This office was anything but messy.

Every shelf seemed to have thick volumes carefully arranged and cared for.

There was a minimal pile of papers in what she guessed was an inbox, the outbox was empty.

The thin monitor stood on a narrow stand, a very generic screen saver of lines and dots dancing on the screen.  She tapped a random key to return to a work screen only to find a password prompt pop up instead.  So she tried the drawers in the desk.  Every last one was locked.

Lila frowned.

Whoever the owner of this office was, they were very careful about protecting who they truly were.  Nothing in this room gave her any detail as to this person’s personality or what they did for the company.

She absently tapped a finger on the desk surface, giving the room another look.

Who was this person?

The sound of the door opening had her quickly dashing around the desk to stand next to the chair meant for guests.  Being caught snooping would not bode well for her.

Thankfully the young-looking man that walked in had his eyes fixed on the tablet in his hands, the assistant from before walking in with him.

“Please have a seat, Miss Rossi,” the man spoke, rounding the desk to take his own seat, the assistant standing just a step behind the chair.

“I do hope we can resolve this to everyone’s satisfaction, sir,” Lila smiled pleasantly, playing the part of a demure teen.

“I highly doubt that,” the man replied.  “Now, before we begin, I am Monsieur Charles Desnaud.  I am the current Legal Counsel and legal representative for Agreste Design.”

Lila suppressed her frown in favour of looking innocently surprised.  “Oh, you’re not a designer?”

“No, I am not.  I will be acting on behalf of Monsieur Gabriel Agreste and his interests.  Please know, everything that will be discussed here is being recorded and a copy will be sent to your parent, a certain diplomatic aid by the name of…”  He flipped a page on his tablet.  “Ms. Benigna Rossi at the Italian Embassy.”

“Oh, you know, my Mother is very busy.  You can just give me her copy of this meeting and I can make sure she gets it.”

“No need, Miss Rossi, an electronic copy is being sent to her embassy email account while a transcript will be delivered to the embassy through registered courier.”

“How thoughtful of you.” 

Inside, the teen was seething which trying to find a way to keep her Mother from ever seeing the transcript or hearing the recording

“While I abhor holding such legal discussions without a parent or legal guardian present, Monsieur Agreste has assured me we can proceed since, despite your age, you can appreciate the seriousness of the situation.”

“Mister Agreste always had the utmost confidence in me,” she smiled.

“Confidence that no longer extends past this situation.  Miss Rossi, you received an email from Madame Sanscoeur warning you to stay away from Agreste interests, not limited to and including Monsieur Adrien Agreste.  You were warned not to attempt any kind of communication or else legal proceedings would be brought against you for non-compliance.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir, I understand.  But I didn’t receive any email.”

“That, Miss Rossi, is false.”

She faked a shocked gasp.  “Are you accusing me of lying?”

He never batted an eye.  “I am, Miss Rossi.  The message you were sent had a read-receipt attached to it.  Do you know what this is?”

Lila began to blink, a chill racing up her spine.  “Read-receipt?”

“This email function notifies the sender the moment the email is opened and read.  We received, recorded, and filed the read-receipt from your email account.  Had you deleted the email, we would have also received a notification to that effect.  So, yes, claiming you never received the email from Madame Sanscoeur, is a lie.”

“O-oh… Oh!  That email!” she faked.  “That’s actually the reason why I wanted to speak with Mister Agreste or Miss Sanscoeur.  I thought that email was sent to the wrong person, possibly meant for that little troublemaker, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  I’m sure this was all a misunderstanding and I was hoping to be able to explain and fix this whole nasty affair.”

“Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng…”  He flicked through a few pages on his tablet before pausing and reading for a moment.  “Ah, yes, Monsieur Agreste did mention the young lady.”

“There, you see?  I’m sure the cease and desist email that was sent was actually meant for her.  She’s been nothing but trouble for Adrien since he started at Collège Françoise Dupont, always invading his space or trying to use his name to bolster her attempts at being a fashion designer.”

Desnaud looked at her over the edge of the tablet, an eyebrow raised in obvious curiosity.  “Please, continue, Miss Rossi,” he urged, setting the tablet down carefully.

Lila smirked internally in triumph. 

She could build herself up and destroy Dupain-Cheng’s chances in the fashion world in one conversation. 

Yes, she would definitely use this opportunity.

“Well, she’s always been jealous of how well Adrien and I hit it off when I first started at school.  We’re very close and it seems she’s always had a bit of a crush on him.  So, she’s been trying to discredit me at every chance she gets.  She even tried to accuse me of stealing a book that belonged to Mister Agreste that Adrien had brought to school.  She doesn’t believe that I know so many interesting and famous people, nor does she believe that I was instrumental in numerous environmental initiatives at the United Nations.  Even when she tried to make something, I’m often the one to step in and have to fix them.  Her parents may be bakers, but she has no skill whatsoever.  And her designs are so sloppily put together…  I mean, one hat winning a contest does not make you a designer.  I hear that was a project she had been working on for several months.  Can you imagine, working on just one hat for so long?” and she tittered ever so innocently.

But Desnaud didn’t seem amused, merely staring at her as if waiting to see if there would be more.

Almost too carefully he picked up his tablet again and began scrolling through pages.  The assistant behind him was almost smirking evilly, keeping her steely eyes fixed on the door ahead of her as if to keep from bursting in laughter.

“The Derby hat design for Monsieur Agreste’s college design contest,” Desnaud began slowly.  “There were numerous witnesses interviewed after the fact to have a complete picture of the designer’s processes.  Each one attested to the fact no design for this hat existed until a few hours after the start of the contest, confirmed by Adrien Agreste himself who saw Miss Marinette’s sketchbook.”

Lila blinked.

No one had ever told her any of this.

“It is noted there is a time-stamped cellphone picture of the design taken by a Miss Sabrina Riencompris as part of her attempt to help Miss Chloé Bourgeois appropriate the design for her own gain.”

“O-oh?”

“Your claim of sloppy designs.  Miss Marinette is being courted not only by Agreste Design, but also Madame Audrey Bourgeois herself, as well as the design teams for one Jagged Stone and one Clara Nightingale.  Need I remind you, Miss Rossi, of the exacting standards of Monsieur Agreste when it comes to his design and couture staff?”

She shook her head, feeling the world she had created around herself begin to crumble.

If this man ever made any of this public…

And this was going to be reported to her Mother…!

“The matter of the book.  It was Miss Marinette who returned the book to Monsieur Agreste directly after having recovered it from where it had been discarded in the trash, only asking that Adrien be allowed to return to the school and not be told she was the reason he was permitted to do so.  Monsieur Agreste had briefly pulled Adrien from school as punishment for having taken this book without permission, a book he admitted went missing shortly after meeting with you where you had expressed a marked interest in the designes contained within.”

“But, I never—”

He held up a hand to silence her and allow him to continue.  “As for your purported extensive contacts in music, fashion and media, Monsieur Agreste had us look into those.  It seems no one you ever mentioned knows who you are.  How would you explain something like that, Miss Rossi?”

Lila forced a trembling pout, tears falling from her eyes.  “You’re accusing me of being a liar, to my face!  How dare you!  I’m just fifteen!”

“Fourteen, actually.  With quite a record with the Polizia di Stato in Italy.  Seems they were investigating you personally right before you and your Mother moved to Paris.  Records show you were the instigator to a disturbing number of petty crimes committed by acquaintances of yours.”

“They were all jealous of me!” she cried.  “They always tried to get me in trouble with whatever they were doing!  I was being framed!”

“I think I should warn you at this time, Miss Rossi, that I am an apathetic individual and this shameless display of emotion from you has no effect.  This is why Monsieur Agreste chose me personally to handle the legalities of this case, he is well aware of your ability to manipulate those around you.”

She gaped up at the assistant.  “Are you going to let him talk to me and treat me this way?”

The assistant huffed.  “Child, I have three teenage Daughters at home, each one more diva that the first in their little tantrums.  I can assure you, you are nothing compared to any one of them.”

Lila began to splutter, the tears suddenly forgotten now that the situation was completely turned against her.

“You… you can’t do this to me!  Adrien loves me, I know he does!”

“I’m afraid the young man doesn’t, actually, by the rather critical letter about you he asked to include in your file.”  Desnaud flicked to a new page on his tablet.  “He vehemently denies all your claims of a relationship with him and corroborates the claim that he was at a protected photo set at the Louvre without his phone when your supposed flagrant délit occurred in his bed.”

“No!  This is all Marinette’s fault!  She turned him against me, told him lies about me!  Adrien loves me!  If he ever found out you were treating me this way, he would have you all fired!”

“Miss Rossi…” he sighed tiredly.

“If you just let me talk to him, I can make him see she’s a horrible influence on him.  His Father saw this too, that’s why she wasn’t allowed to go to his house.  I am Gabriel Agreste’s muse—”

“Miss Rossi!” Desnaud snapped.

She fell quiet.

He stared at her long and hard for a moment before heaving a breath in resolution.

“Miss Rossi, it is clear that a simple warning of legal action is not enough to deter your continued attempts, or should I say obsession, to communicate or otherwise align yourself with Monsieur Agreste and his interests.  Along with the transcript of this conversation, your Mother will be receiving a protection order against you.”

“You can’t do this to me!”

He ignored her outburst.  “This will also be made available to your school.  You will be permitted to remain in the same class as Adrien Agreste, but any contact or communication is strictly forbidden.  A teacher will be shadowing you between classes to ensure you are adhering to this order.  In all other circumstances outside the school environment, you will be required to keep a minimum of fifty metres from Monsieur Agreste, Madame Sanscoeur, Adrien Agreste, and staff currently employed by the Agrestes or Agreste Design, Monsieur Tom Dupain, Madame Sabine Dupain-Cheng, and Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“What?” she near shrieked.  “Why is she included in all this?”

“This was an amendment requested by Monsieur Adrien.  He stated, and I quote, I don’t want to risk Lila Rossi going after my girlfriend.”

“His what?” 

He carefully laid his tablet on the desk.

“Well, now, it would seem that your supposed relationship with the young man was also a fabrication.  Anything else you wish to confess to while we’re behind closed doors?”

All pretenses fell away, revealing the ugly truth of rage on Lila’s face. 

She growled as she stood, tossing her chair aside in fury and stalked out of the room.  She stomped her way through near empty hallways, glaring at anyone how dared look her way, and then stormed into the streets outside.  Lila headed for the first underground access to the metro, ducking past a barrier to enter the tube and walk along the ramp.

Only there did she stop.

Only there did she lose herself to the fury she had kept more of less bottled within.

Only there did she scream in pure rage.

She heard the familiar flutter of wings, a light breeze touching her wrist as the akuma alighted on her bracelet.

“Where the Hell have you been?” she demanded, tuning her anger on the villain through the telepathic link.

Pain radiated through her mind in warning.

Mind who you’re speaking to, child.  I am in no mood to be trifled with.

”I really don’t care what your problems are, Hawk Moth.  I’ve spent the last two weeks building up so much anger in myself, making myself the perfect target for you, and only now do you show up.  What kind of villain are you?”

Terrorising the city and causing akuma are not my only job in this city, Rossi, I have responsibilities.  Keep in mind that akumatizing individuals is also my choice alone.

“Wasn’t I impressive enough before now?”

Perhaps, but I had to be careful.  Current situations do not permit me the freedom to act that I once enjoyed.  I have limitations now.

She could almost feel him smile in her mind.

But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try, even if this is my last time.

Lila frowned at that.

Last time?

Tell me, my dear, who has caused such powerful negative emotions in you?  Is this Ladybug once more?

“Not Ladybug this time, but I’ll still go after her for her Miraculous since that’s the price.  No, this time I’m going after the whole Agreste family and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  They humiliated me, took away my chance to become famous.  I want to crush them.”

There was a long silence, a distinct absence of the energy that crackled to life with the transformation into an akuma.

Had he retracted the butterfly and she hadn’t noticed?

Was he not going to transform her?

No, she needed this!  All those against her had to pay!

“Hawk Moth!” she shouted.

As impressive as your rage is, Miss Rossi, I’m going to have to deny you an easy revenge.

“What?”

You see, the Agrestes are off limits now after that disaster with my new type of akuma and the boy.  Their will is much too strong to break and that fascinates me.  I am not done with that family.  As for the Dupain-Cheng family, I am not permitted to harm them in any way.

“Not permitted?  You’re Hawk Moth, who the Hell has that kind of power over you?”

Not your concern, Rossi.  She heard him sigh.  This is truly a shame, you would have been my crowning achievement in all my attacks.

“No!  You will not turn your back on me, you coward!  To Hell what anyone thinks!  You will give me your power right now!”

You were a good little pawn, Miss Rossi, but our contract is now terminated.

The purple butterfly peeled itself away from her bracelet and lifted towards the exit.  Lila grabbed it, trying to hold on to the magical creature and force it to grant her the power of an akuma.  It merely slipped through her fingers, as fluid as water.

And with a final flutter, it was gone.

“No!  You come back here, you bastard!  Come back and akumatize me!”

Her voice echoed in the empty tunnel.

She screamed in utter frustration and anger.

For a long moment Lila stood there, stewing in her emotions, panting hard from the mania that made her heart race.

She was being denied?

Again?

No, this wouldn’t do.

This wouldn’t do at all.

If Hawk Moth wasn’t willing to help her with this, there were other ways to ruin people.

Lila still had her contacts with tabloids and smaller media outlets.  A few choice rumours from an anonymous email could so easily snowball.

Dupain-Cheng would be the first to crumble under the weight of trying to prove the stories Lila would plant were only lies.  She acted strong, but Rossi knew the type.  She would fold from the pressure in less than a month, a week if Lila was optimistic.

It would take longer for the Agrestes to cave with their money and legal teams, but she wouldn’t attack the family outright.  Vague rumours of issues within the family would be all she could plant.

No, she would damage the company’s reputation.

An anonymous video of some shoddy clothing with the Agreste label ripping at the seams would start it off nicely.  There were enough knock-off pieces floating around that finding something truly horrible would be easy.

Then she would put out a call for others to also post about the poor craftsmanship of the fashion pieces.  The chance of a five minutes of fame was too much of a siren’s call from online trolls.  They would flock to her call.

From there a rumour about Chinese or Indian sweatshops would strike a chord with activists who would start an investigative campaign against the company.  Any tiny little link would be blown out of proportions. 

The silk was made using silkworms in China? 

The workers collecting the silk are paid only pennies per hour, not to mention they are killing silkworms by the millions. 

Agreste Design should have known!

PETA would have a field day with that link, not to mention Agreste Design still used real furs and leathers in their products.

Lila just had to turn the world’s militant and indignant eye on the fashion house.

Deny her the destiny she deserved, will they?

They would soon learn to regret ever making an enemy out of Lila Rossi.

*    *    *

Alya felt herself shrink where she sat in the lush grasses of the Champ de Mars.  Next to her, Nino had sunk his face into his hands, pushing his hat off in the process. 

Across from them Marinette sat on her hip, leaning on one hand, while Adrien was half curled in her lap and near dozing from her other hand carefully threading through his hair as if she were petting a cat.  One could almost believe he was asleep.

The information the baker girl had just shared merely added to the guilt both Alya and Nino shared.

And confirmed some growing suspicions.

Lila Rossi had lied about everything.

Marinette had texts from Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale confirming they had no idea who Lila was, Jagged even confirming that he was allergic to real fur so owning a cat had never been a possibility.  Not to mention that Fang would have made a quick snack of such a small pet.  And Clara confirmed she had only her own Mother as an emergency contact.  Why would she have needed a fourteen-year-old for such a thing?

There was a letter from Prince Ali to Adrien asking him to thank Chat Noir for the video he had sent of Ladybug and himself.  Something Chat Noir had promised since Prince Ali had missed a lot of what Paris could offer during his last trip.  Rose had been wonderful, but they really had only a few short hours before his chaperon caught up with them.  It had been a video playfully entitled A Day in the Life of the Bug and Cat, and was basically a video of one of their rare daytime patrols. In the letter Prince Ali had asked who this Lila person was that Chat Noir had casually mentioned as they visited certain spots across the city.

Marinette had showed them a video from Ladybug confirming that she was not friends with Lila and that anyone claiming so was placing themselves in great danger.  She explained how these people could be kidnapped to be used against the Heroes, something they would never know happened unless told by a third party since they were not friends.  She also explained how it was impossible for her to know Lila in particular since, according to information relayed to her by both trusted sources, the girl had only just recently arrived in Paris, less than a day or so, when she began making her claims and there had not been any akuma attack in the two weeks before her arrival.

Alya herself had been able to confirm that date with the Embassy where she also learned something else.  Lila’s Mother was not some high-ranking diplomat as she had led everyone to believe.  She was a diplomatic aid, basically tantamount to an assistant at best.

“S-so… everything else…?”  Alya could barely managed the words.

Marinette shrugged.  “I can’t positively confirm or deny any of it, but if she lied about these things…  I mean, c’mon, really?  Being blinded by a paper napkin?”

“Not to mention the tinnitus when she’s shown she could easily go up and down the Eiffel Tower, both akumatized and not,” Adrien added drowsily, never once opening his eyes.  “I’ve been akumatized, I can tell you whatever injury you had before follows you in.  I also know she can’t model worth a damn, no matter what she says.  Vincent was about to recommend sacking her since she refused to take his direction.  I convinced Father to do it anyway.”

Marinette smothered her giggle, understanding the veiled comment, her fingers lightly scratching strange patterns against his scalp.

Nino looked up from his hands.  “We are so sorry we didn’t believe you, Dudette.  She was just so… so…”

She smiled at him.  “It’s okay, Nino.  When she threatened me, saying she would turn everyone against me, she told me this is what she does.  She tells people what they want to hear, it’s on them if they don’t check the facts.”

“What kind of reporter does that make me, though?” Alya questioned, a sob on the edge of her voice.  “And I even dared tell you to prove your facts when I didn’t even bother checking hers myself, when all you were trying to do was protect the rest of us... like you always do.  I’m a horrible reporter and an even worse friend for letting you go through all that.”

“She’s very good at convincing people,” Marinette placated.  “She managed to convince Nathalie to let her into Agreste Manor, remember?”

“Don’t remind me,” Adrien grumbled.  “That’s when she probably got my spare key to let herself in while we were all at that last photoshoot.  She was snooping quite a bit when I had my back turned.”  He reluctantly sat up, staying close to Marinette’s side.  “She uses information about people to her advantage.  She found out I had a slight dip in one of my grades and used it to convince Nathalie she was helping me study.  Thirty minutes in the same room is more than my nerves could take.”

“What about when you have to model with her?” Nino queried.

“Had, past tense.  I ignored her, pretended she was just another model I had to interact with, but nothing more.  When the session ended, I was gone.”

“And you say Vincent didn’t like her?”

He shrugged.  “She was lying, and he knew it.  The more he tried to give her direction, the more she tried to counter it with something of her own.  Those poses with her, all her idea because she threatened to walk if he didn’t take the shots.  I think he was more afraid of what my Father would say if the sessions were cancelled because of an on-set argument.”

Alya sighed as she pulled out her phone.  “You didn’t need a psychology degree to see how uncomfortable you were though.”  She pulled up the photo spread from the last session the model had endured.  “They didn’t even bother trying to airbrush the tension lines out of your face.  And your posture just screams get the Hell away from me.  Were we all really that blind to it all?” 

She flicked the page to her blog, flipping through every post Lila had ever made on the Ladyblog.  There were a lot of them, all lauding herself in some way for her connection to Ladybug and how she had been instrumental in one defeat or another of the akuma.  Every post, every video, was self-congratulating first with a thin praise of the Heroes almost as an afterthought.

How could she have been so blind about the Italian girl?

She looked up at the pair before her.  They were watching her, waiting.  Even Nino was silently regarding her, part of him knowing what she was about to do.

“This…” and she held her phone up just a bit as if in offering.  “This is an apology to you, Mari.  I know it doesn’t make up for even a fraction of what I put you through, but I hope you see it as a start.”

Marinette blinked at her.  “What’re you doing?”

She began typing in commands at a furious pace.  “Deleting every last interview I ever took of her, every post she ever made, every little comment she ever posted.  All of it.  And I’m blocking her from being able to post or comment ever again.  If there is one thing I learned from Max, it’s how to identify and block ISPs.  Then I’m going to post an explanation later tonight for all my followers as to what happened.  I wanted this to be a reliable and credible site for new about Ladybug and Chat Noir, and she basically turned me into a trash tabloid with all her lies.  Well, never again.”

With a final jab of her thumb, every possible reference to Lila Rossi disappeared from the Ladyblog.

“How do you feel?” Nino asked his girlfriend.

She released a heavy breath, shoulders sagging.  “Strangely… lighter.  From now on, no more posts without reliable sources and thorough reference checks… unless they come from Ladybug and Chat Noir directly.”

The small group chuckled.

“Welp, on that note…”  Nino stood and stretched his arms above his head.  “Alya and I have a number of rug rats to babysit.  Do you guys have time to hang out again tomorrow?  We have a lot more to talk about on how to deal with that fake.”

“I am remarkably free these days,” Adrien grinned knowingly.  “What about you, My Princess?”

She smiled, knowing exactly what he meant.  “My day tomorrow is actually wide open, My Kitten.”

Alya smirked as she stood.  “Princess?  Kitten?  I’m going to want to know where those names come from.”

“Oh, that’s easy!” Nino chuckled, receiving a curious stare from the hidden heroes.  “She was his captive like a princess caught by a baddie in one of those old medieval stories, and he was akumatized into a cat.  Princess and Kitten.”

Alya blinked.  “Oh…  That actually makes a lot of sense,” and the pair walked off together as they waved to their friends.

The pair and their kwami let out a collective sigh of relief.

“That boy gets awfully close to figuring out the truth sometimes,” Plagg voiced from Marinette’s purse.

“They do say it’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for,” Adrien agreed, stretching out again to rest his head in Marinette’s lap.

She carefully toyed with his bangs.  “Well, then, that means we have to watch out for him and Nathaniel.”

“Even if they did find out, I’m pretty sure they would keep it quiet.  Nino is one of our best friends, and Nate is just too good a guy to try to out us.”

“This is true.”

“I think the only people you would have to worry about in your class are Alya and Lila,” Tikki added.

Marinette scrunched up her nose adorably in thought.  “I can understand why Lila, she would use it to her advantage somehow.  Maybe even try to force the city to take our Miraculous by spinning a story about how the city could possibly let a couple of teens fight a supervillain.  But why Alya?”

“She’s a reporter,” the kwami explained.  “The first thing she would want to do is tell the entire world this amazing scoop: the identities of Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

“She’d go and post it on her blog, tagging every news outlet she knows,” Plagg added.  “Only then would she probably stop and question if what she did was okay.”

“She’d probably try to argue her side of it too, why it was a good thing,” Marinette near muttered.

Adrien looked up at her slightly angry features.  “She did that with the photo after Oblivio, didn’t she?”

She nodded.  “I couldn’t convince her how invasive it was of her to post something so private.  I kind of think maybe Lila talked her into keeping it on the site.”

“We could maybe drop in on Alya, as Ladybug and Chat Noir, and remind her that privacy rules apply to superheroes too?”

“Maybe…”

He reached up to grip her chin, forcing blue eyes to look at him.  “Hey, I’m the depressed one in this couple, remember?”

She smirked before making a mess of his hair with her hands.  “Oh, really?  Funny, you don’t look depressed.”  She drifted her hands down the sides of his face and down his neck to smooth over his chest, slightly leaning over him.  “In fact, you look like a very contented Kitty on the verge of purring.”

Eyes going wide, his hands slapped over his mouth.  “Please don’t make me purr,” came his muffled plea.

She continued her pointed ministrations.  “Please, Kitty?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Pretty please?”

“Marinette…”

“I like it when you purr.”

He froze and looked up at her in surprise. 

Then, just as a blush started spreading over his cheeks, she heard it.  A faint, low rumble from his throat and reverberating in his chest.

A purr.

Not a Chat Blanc loud and debauched sounding purr.

Not a Chat Noir surprised and timid purr.

This was an Adrien Agreste with cat-like tendencies purr, soft and just loud enough for her to hear.

Marinette rewarded him with a happy smile, curling around him to hug him as best she could.  Just to have that smile, Adrien decided it was worth the embarrassment to purr, just for her. 

Always only for her.

That thought was even more solidified when he felt her lips brush the bridge of his nose in a light kiss.

Somewhere in the distance he heard the whirring click of cameras snapping off a few dozen photos.  The curse of having enhanced hearing.  It was a wonder at first, being able to hear a cricket from so far away, and a blessing during battles, being able to hear the enemy before they could approach.  But when he could hear the mechanical cycling of a camera from hidden paparazzi, those were the moments he hated.

“I hear them too, Adrien,” the girl whispered softly, having felt him tense.

“I’m sorry—”

“Ah, ah, ah!” she quickly interrupted, pulling back to look him in the eye.  “This, just like everything else, is not your fault.  Don’t you dare try to apologize for it.”

“Technically, it is my fault since they’re here to take pictures of me.”

“But did you call them?  Did you tell them you’d be here?”

“No,” he agreed reluctantly.

“Then the fault is theirs for actively chasing you down.  And you being a celebrity is your Father’s fault for forcing you into modelling.  So, not your fault.”

He smirked at her dogged attempts to shift all responsibility off of his shoulders.  “Can’t I take just a bit of the blame?”

She made a face as if mulling over his question.  “Well, maybe the one about you being too pretty.  You can have that one.”

“I’ll share that one with you since you’re much prettier than I am.”

She smirked.  “I beg to differ, Mister Agreste.  I don’t have the title of Sunshine Child or even Golden Child.  Those are one hundred percent yours.  So, that makes you officially prettier.”

A chuckled escaped his lips.  “Only because the world hasn’t met the truly amazing and Ladybug-like Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  The world would be at your feet from then on.”

“Are you two actually arguing as to who is prettier?” Plagg groused from Marinette’s purse.

“Can you blame me when I’m presented with such a divine, spotted, ebon-haired Princess?” the boy espoused.

“I am not spotted!” she denied.

“Oh, yes, you are,” he countered as he sat up, keeping very close to her and gripping her chin.  “You have the cutest dusting of freckles right there across your adorable little nose.  Spots for the everyday Ladybug.”

A hot blush tinted her cheeks and she covered her face with her hands.  “S-stop th-that.”

“Stop what?”  There was clear mirth in his voice.

“B-being s-so da-damned ch-charming,” she managed to stutter, despite her attempts to remain calm.

He carefully gripped her wrists.  “Ah, so, is this the reason you were always so flustered around me?” and he placed a gentle kiss on the backs of both her hands.

Marinette curled her fingers, forming fists against her cheeks to only show her eyes frowning at him in skepticism.  At that moment, Adrien was struck with just how much she resembled her masked alter-ego, making him wonder how he could have missed the resemblance for so long.

“How insufferable will you become if I say yes?” she questioned, her stutter suddenly gone.

“As insufferable as Chat and you love it,” he laughed, pulling her into his arms.

“Stupid cat,” she muttered with a smile, willing sinking into his arms.

He merely hummed happily into the crook of her neck.

A rapid succession of more whirring clicks sounded in the distance.  Marinette chuckled softly as a result.

“We’re giving them lots of materiel to take pictures of.”

Adrien pulled back enough to see her face, arching a playful eyebrow.  “Want to give them some more?”

She blushed furiously before laughing and shoving him away.

*    *    *

Chloé scowled slightly as she read through the latest articles posted in Paris Match currently displayed on her tablet.

Full clandestine photo spreads of Adrien Agreste enjoying a rare walk around Paris with Marinette Dupain-Cheng on his arm.  Looking at his candid expressions, she could see genuine joy and enjoyment of his time, the camera having caught the occasional tender look between the pair.  It was obvious to anyone; the boy was in love.

Chloé chewed at the inside of her cheek, wanting really hard to hate the whole situation these articles were presenting.

But she couldn’t find it in her to really be mad anymore.

She had seen it from the first day Adrien had returned to school, how close he was to Dupain-Cheng.  Ever since the disappearance of his Mother, the boy had been withdrawn and difficult to really and truly cheer up. 

And Dupain-Cheng somehow managed to bring the happy and smiling boy he used to be back into the light.

As much as she had hoped and tried her best to be the one to do that, she couldn’t be angry that someone else had succeeded.

She could be annoyed that it was Dupain-Cheng.

Something must have happened during his akumatization.  A week was a long time to spend with someone who wasn’t a blood relative.

Maybe they were able to talk during that time.

Maybe she got through to his rational mind past his feral side.

Maybe he remembered everything that happened.

Too many maybes to list.

Whatever it was, Adrien was the picture of joy and intent on keeping Dupain-Cheng at his side for the foreseeable future.  Which meant she now had to tolerate the baker girl.  She guessed it was a small price to pay to see her best friend in the best spirits she had seen him in a long time.

Chloé let her tablet drop on her knee as she stared out the window of her limo.

The other curious occurrence of late was the total lack of Gabriel Agreste in the world.  His fashion empire still had a choke hold on designers and their designs, but the man himself was even more of recluse than before.  Nathalie was no longer present at events with the tablet Skyping the man’s dour puss everywhere she went for him.  She didn’t even accompany Adrien to school anymore.

All the better.

Both were become overly watchful of Adrien and it was visibly sapping his energy.

Since returning from his akumatization, Adrien was a lot freer.  True, his bodyguard still followed him around, but that was a necessary evil considering Adrien’s celebrity status in Paris.  And the large man also didn’t hold the boy back or force the imposed timetable and schedule on him anymore.

If there was one thing Chloé was certain of, it was that Adrien deserved so much more love and freedom than his blood family had given him.

At least now he was forging a new family with his friends to receive all of that, and more.

Her limo came to a stop before the school and her driver quickly opened the car door for her.  Sabrina was already standing there, dutifully waiting on her.

And leaning on the large stone railing of school’s main stairway, was Lila Rossi.  She was dressed a little bit more refined, her makeup done just a bit more carefully, and her hair practically shone with the care and effort she had put into it that morning.  The girl was absently scrolling through her cellphone, an almost bored expression on her face.

Chloé had to frown.

She was waiting for someone, and she didn’t have to wonder too hard about who that someone was.

Chloé would be damned if she let that Italian bimbo ruin Adrien’s happy life, even if it was with Dupain-Cheng.

She stalked over to the girl, noting Lila either didn’t notice her approach or was trying her best to ignore her.

“You just don’t give up, do you, Rossi,” Chloé near snarled.

Lila put on her most surprised expression possible, but either Chloé was getting better at detecting the lies or Rossi was being less careful with them around people she knew were already aware she lied.

“Oh, hi, Chloé!” she gushed.  “What do you mean?”

“Can it!  I know exactly what you’re trying to do.  I also know everything about the protection order Mister Agreste levelled against you.”

Chloé saw the corner of the girl’s eye twitch.  “I… I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The protection order.  You know, that legal document that says you have to keep fifty metres from everyone in the Agreste family or employed by the Agrestes.  I also know this includes the Dupain-Chengs since someone obviously knew you’d be bitch enough to try something against them.”

Now the frown appeared on Lila’s face.

“And how would you know about that?”

She flipped her ponytail back casually.  “Please!  Nothing happens in this city without Daddy knowing about it.  The protection order was signed by the Chief Prosecutor who reports everything he signed into order to Daddy in his weekly judicial reports.  And Daddy has no secrets from me.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t thrown a fit about this, Chloé, seeing as how you gush every chance you get about how close you and your Adri-kins are.”

Blue eye flashed dangerously at the Italian girl.  “You don’t have the right to ever use the name!  That name is between me and Adrien from when we were babies together.”

Lila had the good sense to shrink under the fury that threatened to erupt.

“Fine!  So, what do you want to do about it?”

“What?”

“It’s why you’re here, right?  You want Adrien back?”

Chloé actually laughed.  “This is what you think I’m coming at you for?  Are you really that single minded?  I want my Adri-kins to be happy and, as much as I loath to say it or even think it, Dupain-Cheng makes him impossibly happy.  So, I’m actually here to warn you off.”

Lila blinked, a tinge of fear entering her eyes.

“Wa… warn me off?”

“Very simply, Rossi, I will be watching you very closely.  If not me, then one of my spies.  Oh, don’t look for Sabrina.  She’s a good assistant to me, but everyone knows her ties to me, so she is hardly spy material.”

“I tried, but people tend to notice the red hair,” the mousy girl grinned sheepishly.

“And she is hardly the only person under my orders in this school.  You try anything that breaks the protection order, and I will know.  And I will report you to the authorities with the utmost level of pleasure.”

Lila’s frown returned.  “Are you threatening me?”

Chloé put on her best air of shock.  “Threatening?  Threatening?  Me?  Oh, dear girl, I don’t threaten.  Threats are so beneath someone of my elite status.  No, I’m not threatening.  I am letting you know exactly what to expect.”

“You don’t even like Marinette.  Why would you do this?”

“I told you, Rossi, but I guess you have difficulty hearing with that tinnitus and all.  I want my Adri-kins to be happy and I will defend that happiness with everything I am capable of.  Toe the line, and I will have you shipped back to Italy.”

Lila smirked as if finding a chink in the threat.  “My Mother works for the Embassy.  Only the Président can have her removed.”

“Wrong again, Rossi,” Chloé grinned.

The girl’s expression faltered.

“It wasn’t really difficult to find out your dear Mother is not the high ranking diplomat you made everyone believe she was.  Your Mother is nothing more than a glorified secretary.”

Sabrina adjusted her glasses, seeing an opening in the conversation.  “As such, all diplomatic immunities afforded to a full diplomat are not reflected on her position as she is considered embassy staff and not actually a member of the mission.  Members of the Embassy who have a portfolio, as well as their family members, are granted protections from prosecution in the host nation, but these protections can also be removed by the Embassy at any time given the nature of the legal issue being levied.”

Chloé’s grin grew slightly more evil.  “This is part of the reason I keep Sabrina around.  Her knowledge of the law is only equalled by Max.  How do you think I can get away with so much?  You know, it really is too bad you didn’t think of stealing Sabrina away from me, or even trying to befriend me the moment you arrived.  The three of us together could have been terrors to this city.”

“We… we still could be.”

“No, we can’t.  You tried to take Adrien to use him for your own gain.  I’ve seen too many people do that to him already and I won’t stand for it.”

“And how are you so certain Marinette isn’t doing the same thing?”

“Please!  She loves the boy too much to even begin to think of using him.  Plus she just far too good a person to stoop to your level.  I might have forgiven you had you just gone after Dupain-Cheng for calling out your obvious lies.  But the moment you started after Adrien, that is where I draw the line.”

She saw Lila’s eyes dart at something behind her and turned in time to see Adrien arriving from the Dupain-Cheng bakery, the baker girl tucked at his side, arm in arm.  The sting of losing the boy to Dupain-Cheng was still there, but it really didn’t hurt as much when she saw the smile on his face.  A smile that actually reached his eyes.

Chloé had lost, but she could accept this as a good loss.

She returned her attention to Lila who was attempted to circumvent the Mayor’s Daughter, only to be caught in the act.

“Fifty metres, Rossi,” she warned.  “That is your only warning.”

And with that, head held high and Sabrina following after her, Chloé climbed the stairs to enter the school right behind the pair she had vowed to protect. 

“Are you really going to make sure she doesn’t do anything against Adrien and Marinette?” Sabrina questioned softly.

“Of course!  Those two are just too sweet and innocent that they wouldn’t see the first salvo until it was too late.  No one hurts my Adri-kins and now, by extension, Dupain-Cheng.  Rossi is a scorpion and I just happen to have access to the size six steel-toed stilettos to crush her.”

Sabrina smiled at her friend.  “That’s really great of you, Chloé!”

She smirked rather proudly.  “It is, isn’t it?  I really can be a good person… when I want to be.”

Her friend and lackey merely chuckled lightly.

Chloé joined her new wards just as they met up with Lahiffe and Césaire.  For a long moment she gave a critical stare at Dupain-Cheng, almost as if she were evaluating her, ignoring the warning and worried glances from the others.  And innocent and trusting little baker girl that she was just stared back with large blue eyes blinking in confusion.

God, she was just too cute sometimes!

“I don’t like the fact that I lost to you,” Chloé finally admitted.  “I hate it, actually.”

The blue eyes became apologetic then.  “Chloé…”

She held up a hand sharply to stop her, closing her eyes to collect herself.  The girl was just too good for this world.  Even after everything she had put her through all these years, she was still trying to placate her.

“It’s because I’m not used to not getting what I want.  I see that, I’ve always known that.”  Chloé sighed, and then flashed a smile.  “But I guess I can overlook that seeing how impossibly adorable you two are together.”

This caused the whole group to start blinking, shocked at the turn of events.

“Adri-kins, you simply must tell me next time you go to a gala with her.”

The boy looked cautious.  “Um… why?”

“Well, I know she can design and create something in the blink of an eye because that’s just how good she is, but then she’d be too tired to enjoy the soirée with you.  And we simply cannot have you walking the red carpets with someone half asleep on your arm.  The optics of it all!  So I’m offering to take her shopping à la Chloé Bourgeois to ensure she looks absolutely fabulous while not tiring herself out with last minute alterations.”

Césaire snorted.  “Right, just tire out her feet then so she can barely walk.”

“Tsk, I would never allow that!  I know a fantastic little boutique that has the best insoles for any kind of shoe imaginable and in every size.  Makes you feel like you’re walking on a cloud no matter the condition of your feet.  How do you think I do it?” she smirked triumphantly.

“What gives, Chloé?” Lahiffe questioned.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Well, for four years you’ve been making Mari’s life Hell, and the rest of us along with her, and now you want to be BFFs with her?”

“Well, maybe not BFFs, I reserve that title strictly for Ladybug.”  She missed Dupain-Cheng rolling her eyes and a barely supressed chuckle from Adrien.  “But seeing as she is now with my Adri-kins, I have decided in my magnanimity to at the very least try to be a friend.  I mean, look at these two!  You just know they’re forever.”

She certainly did not miss the dark blush that raced over both of their faces.

“Besides, Ladybug trusted me with the Bee Miraculous, which means I am now a Hero of Paris.  As such, I have to try to be a better person, right?”

“So, you’re really doing this for Ladybug?” Césaire pressed.

“To prove to her that I continue to be worthy of being Queen Bee.  And I win lots of friend points with my Adri-kins.”

Adrien chuckled softly.  “Ah, there is it.”

“Well, I just don’t want you to forget about me, that’s all,” she sniffed.

“Chloé, no one could ever forget you.  It’s a complete impossibility.”

She beamed proudly, and then turned her attention to Dupain-Cheng.  “So, I guess all this is me offering a long overdue olive branch.  Though, with everything I ever put you through, I really don’t expect you to accept--”

Dupain-Cheng reached over and took one of her hands in both of hers, giving it a warm squeeze, a bright smile on her lips.  “Consider it accepted, Chloé.”

Behind her, Sabrina clapped happily as Chloé felt all tension just leave her body.  This girl really was too good for this world.

“Thank you… Marinette.”

Watching from around the edge to the school’s main entrance, Lila Rossi glared.

Chapter Text

Marinette scrunched her nose as she penciled in her tentative answer to the Physics equation.

“So… the molar weight is… four point two?”

Adrien gave her a slightly pained smile before shaking his head.  She groaned and dropped to her belly on his bed, face pressed into the flat of the mattress.

“I’m going to fail Physics!” she wailed.

She had been doing this particular set of Physics work for the last hour or so and Marinette was getting progressively more frustrated.  They had spread out their work on his bed for comfort’s sake, both agreeing that, with the amount of work they had to go through, the couch or his desk would be a disadvantage for them.  The television played in the background, tuned to one of Paris’ many news channels.  Tikki and Plagg were on the second floor of his room, talking quietly just out of earshot.

“I can figure out how to use the most impossible of objects created by my Lucky Charm, find the best way to defeat an akuma, and can make my yo-yo do things that shouldn’t be physically possible,” she mumbled.  “How is it a simple Physics equation is getting away from me?”

He gave the back of her knee a gentle squeeze in sympathy.  “Take a break and help me with my Algebra assignment then.  I think you’ve gotten to the point of overthinking the equation.”

“Probably,” she sniffed.  She raised her head to look back at him.  “That’s another thing.  How is it I suck at Physics, which is all numbers and equations, yet I understand Algebra, which is also all numbers and equations?”

He chuckled.  “I will not even try to figure out how your creative mind works, My Lady.  That could be a dangerous conversation.”

She nudged his hip with her foot with a half-insulted smirk.  Then, sitting up, she leaned her chin to his shoulder to look into the textbook he held.

This was definitely easier.  But he was also a perfectionist with his work.  His errors, compared to her own in her Physics assignments, were in far smaller numbers.  She had to silently bless him if he was merely distracting her from her problems with these minor mistakes.

“Do you have any plans for the winter break?” Adrien abruptly asked, carefully erasing and correcting an error she had pointed out.

She blinked at the sudden change in conversation.  “Um… not that I’m aware of, no.  I mean, unless Mama and Papa have something planned…  But that’s still another two months out.  Why?”

“Well, seeing as I now have Hawk Moth on a leash, I was wondering if you think it might be a good time for that vacation we talked about.”

Surprise caused her to pull away slightly.  “Really?”

“I mean, only if you really want to,” he tried to backtrack.  “It’s just, I’m pretty sure Father won’t risk trying to akumatize anyone with the threat of the akuma tracking app active on my phone to notify me if he tried anything, and we’ve more than earned some time off… I thought, maybe…”

He looked so shy then, so unsure of himself, beginning to curl in on himself as if realizing he might have overstepped am unspoken boundary.  Marinette smiled at how endearing it made him.

“Where would we go?”

His posture immediately straightened, head snapping up.  He looked so surprised that she had accepted.

“Really?  Oh, wow… um… okay…” and he fumbled with his books to find his tablet, Plagg and Tikki floating down to their Chosens’ shoulders to see the offered choices.  “There are a few places we could go where they guarantee there won’t be any paparazzi or reporters camping out for a story.”

“All super exclusive places, right?”

He smiled at her.  “Nothing but the best.”

She giggled lightly.  “So, where do you have in mind?”

“There’s Mustique in the Caribbean.  The British Royals consider it like their second home.  Very private and William has been texting lately that, since Harry and Meagan are now in the US, I’m free to use his villa any time I want.”

“Rent your own private island,” she murmured the header under the photos.  “Wow…”

”Hey, Tikki, when was the last time we were on an island?” Plagg questioned with a small smile.

She sighed dreamily.  “It’s been centuries, easily.  I think the last island we were on was in the Mediterranean.”

Adrien smiled at the kwami before continuing.  “Sir Richard Branson has been trying to get my Father to come back to Necker Island for years now.  Sends him an invitation every few months or so.  I’m sure we can get the invitation extended to us.  Or if you want real seclusion, there’s the Seychelles.”

Marinette peered at the written description.  “Only accessible by private helicopter…  I’ve never ridden in a helicopter.  Well, not as Marinette anyway.  Doesn’t your family own an island too?  I noticed you didn’t include it in your list.”

He frowned at his tablet.  “He controls everything on that island.  I know he has cameras all over the place, and the employees are completely loyal to him.  If we went there, we’d be spied on the entire time so he could find a way to break the contract I forced him to sign.”

Marinette hugged his arm to herself.  “Definitely never going there then,” she assured.

Tense muscles loosened in relief that she wouldn’t press the issue, much as Chloé had done years passed.  Adrien smiled at the top of her head before placing a gentle kiss in her hair.  She made a small pleased sound, resting her cheek to his shoulder.  He watched her fingers skim over the tablet, scrolling through the three suggested locations.

“Where do you want to go?” she asked softly.

“Anywhere so long as you’re with me.”

She smirked at him, poking his side.  “Sap.  But seriously, your choice.”

He huffed a breath, looking towards the windows in thought.  “I’ve never been given the option to choose before,” he admitted softly.

Marinette felt her heart tighten at that.  To never be given an option about something, to never be given a choice… 

She couldn’t imagine living such a life where the simple act of walking out the door was so controlled.

“Well, I’m giving you the option.  Anywhere you want to go, anywhere in the world.  You lead and I’ll follow.”

This pulled a chuckle from him.  “I’m usually following your lead, Bugaboo.”

“Not this time, Kitty.  This time it’s all you.”

“Can I get a few days?”

“As much time as you want.”

“So long as there’s plenty of cheese, I’m up for anywhere,” Plagg added, dashing off for his fridge for his coveted Camembert.

Adrien took a deep and slow breath in thought.  “This is going to take a lot of getting used to.  It’s all so new.”

Marinette smiled gently.  “We’ll take it one step at a time.  There’s absolutely no rush.”

He chuckled darkly.  “Kagami would say my indecision is my weakness.”

She sniffed.  “The difference between you two is she was raised by a Tiger Mom while you were raised by a non-existent Father.  She once told me her Mother forced her to learn the right and proper way of doing things so she would never make a mistake.  You, on the other hand, were shut away from the world so you would never have to make a mistake.”

“That makes me pretty messed up then.”

“Just a bit.”  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders to hold him tight.  “But I wouldn’t have you any other way, My Prince,” and she placed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Adrien turned in her arms to hold her, face pressed into the crook of her shoulder, mildly aware of the Motherly smile Tikki gave them both.

He felt gutted and blessed all at once each and every time Marinette called him her prince.

How had he gotten so lucky, so blessed to have found someone so willing to accept him without reservation, flaws and all? 

She never cared about his social status, his money or fame. 

Not once was she concerned about the optics of being together, what other people would think. 

Material things and notoriety meant nothing. 

She cared about him, not the name.

She wanted to be with him, away from the cameras.

She loved him, not what being with him could do for her.

“God, I love you, Marinette,” he breathed fiercely.

“I love you, too, Adrien.”

And they just sat there in silence, holding each other, one of her hands gently carding through his hair.  Adrien loved moment like this.  They didn’t talk, not because they had nothing to say, but because they didn’t need to say anything.  She knew sometimes all he needed was to feel a caring pair of arms wrapped around him, to hear a soft heartbeat.

Part of him though, the broken part of him, felt it wasn’t fair to her to always have to be his rock like this.  It terrified him that one day she might get tired of all his issues and just leave him. 

He pulled back reluctantly.  “Sorry,” slipped from his lips before he could stop it.

“Not your fault,” she replied without knowing what he was apologizing for, threading her fingers through his bangs. 

More reason to add to his list why he adored her so much.

She often didn’t need to know his reasons for saying or doing things, she just knew.

“You don’t have to take the blame for everything that happens, My Kitten,” she continued.  “Sometimes things will happen by no fault of your own.  You can try to always do the right thing, but that doesn’t always work out.”

“Know that from experience, do you?”

She smiled.  “You might say that.”

There was a knock on his door shortly before Nathalie walked in before being prompted, barely giving enough time for the kwami to hide.  She had a noticeable pause at finding both teens sitting close if not innocently on Adrien’s bed, papers and textbooks surrounding them.  She cleared her throat as if collecting herself, no doubt having expected a pair of teenagers to have been in a more compromising situation than what she saw.

“The car is ready to take you to your afternoon photo session, Adrien.”

“Thank you, Nathalie.”  Then, turning to Marinette, “Want to join me?”

She blinked at Adrien in surprise.  “Am I allowed?”

“Of course you’re allowed!  Isn’t that right, Nathalie?”

There was an edge to the way he said her name, almost in warning or daring.  The woman’s shoulder’s stiffened imperceptivity at the flash of bright green from his eyes.

Nathalie allowed herself only a second to swallow and compose herself.  She would have to ask her employer if perhaps the white akuma had any residual effects that might be possible on its victim.

“You are quite welcome to attend this session with him, Miss Marinette,” she confirmed.

“Give us about five minutes to pack up our books,” Adrien instructed then.

With an acknowledging nod, the assistant left.  Quickly the pair gathered up their papers and books, Adrien stacking his onto his desk while Marinette sorted them the best she could into her backpack.  As she called to the kwami to come hide in her purse for the trip, Adrien took the backpack from her and refused to give it back, slinging it over his own shoulder defiantly.

“My Lady, I am a gentle-cat,” he smirked.  “As such, it would be very unsightly of me to let you carry such a heavy bag around.”

“It’s just a bookbag, Adrien,” she grinned at his antics, trying to reach for her bag that he kept just out of reach.  “I carried it here, didn’t I?”

“And that was a total faux-pas on my part for letting that happen.  So now I will carry this hefty weight to the car and, at the end of the shoot when we drop you off, I will carry it to your door as well.”

She shook her head with a patient smile, hooking her arm with his offered one.  “You over-dramatic weeb.”

Adrien merely chuckled as they left the room to head outside to the waiting car.  Nathalie was already waiting by the vehicle’s front passenger door, her ever-present tablet under her arm.  The teen’s bodyguard was on the driver’s side, quietly surveying the crowd beyond the manor’s gate with his perpetual scowl.  A flurry of camera flashes erupted the moment the teens stepped beyond the front door, following their every action as Adrien opened the rear car door and ushered his girlfriend inside.

The large gates for the Manor slowly swung open as the car approached it, giving a chance to the crowd to move out of the way to allow the vehicle to exit.  Those beyond gathered around the car, clamouring to get the best picture or have a window crack open to allow questions. 

But with tinted and closed tight windows, neither chance would happen.

“I never noticed before, but is it always like this?” Marinette questioned about the throngs of reporters.

Adrien offered a casually annoyed glance outside the window.  “Mm, more so now since I was akumatized.  It’s like they’re waiting for it to happen again so they can catch in on video and earn a rich payday.”

“That is so messed up.”

“It’s the paparazzi,” he shrugged.  Then he frowned slightly.  “But sometimes I feel like they know something I don’t.”

“Oh?”

Adrien cast a quick glance at Nathalie, noting how her head was turned ever so slightly to listen to their conversation.  To anyone else, they no doubt wouldn’t have noticed the subtlety of it, but Adrien had pretty much grown up around this woman.  He knew her mannerisms inside and out.  He knew if she was being sincere or if she was merely teasing.

So the slight tilt of her head meant she was eavesdropping.

He leaned in closer to Marinette and dropped his voice to a near whisper.  With the soft drone of the car on Paris’s streets, unless one was sitting right next to him like the baker girl was, no one else would be able to hear him speak now.

“I don’t think the akuma was completely cleansed out of me, My Lady,” he whispered to Marinette.  “There have been a couple of times this week when both Plagg and I caught… I don’t know… changes?  Something happening when I let myself get frustrated.  Plagg noticed my eyes went Chat a few times.”

Marinette covered one of his hands with his own, a small comforting gesture.  “Maybe we should go talk to Master Fu tonight during patrol.  It was a new kind of akuma neither of us ever experienced before.  There might be something in the grimoire your Father had that helped him create it, and Fu has a digital copy.”

“How’d he get a copy?  It’s back in Father’s safe.”

She hesitated.  “I… I brought it back when he pulled you out of school that day.  Lila took it from you and then tossed it in the trash at the park.  Tikki told me it was imperative I get that book to the Great Guardian.”

His eyes softened in awe.  “No one every told me you brought it back.  Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

She avoided his gaze, staring at her own hands twisting absently between them along the seams of the car seat.  “You said you were happy when you were at school.  I just wanted you to be happy.  It wasn’t important that you knew who brought the book back.”

Tenderly, he cupped her face to get her to look at him, smiling at her in adoration.  “You are the most amazing and selfless person that has ever existed.”

She blushed fiercely, not used to seeing such reverence and warmth from anyone, still not used to it coming from Adrien.

She realized then and there that she was doomed, and in the best of ways.

Adrien kept her close for the rest of the car ride, shoulder to shoulder, her hand nestled in his. 

There was no way to describe how blessed he felt. 

Marinette and Ladybug were one and the same, two sides of the same person he adored with all his heart.  And she loved him back, both side of him. 

This was more than he could have hoped or even asked for. 

It was perfect.

Pulling up to the studio, those in the car could see yet another crush of reporters waiting outside, possibly colleagues or partners to those they had left behind at the manor.

Marinette exhaled softly in awe at their numbers.

“Wow, they really don’t give up easily, do they?”

His hand squeezed hers, a look of worry entering his eyes when he looked at her.  “I can understand if this is too much…”

With a gentle smile and a small shake of her head, Marinette enfolded his hand in both of hers, returning the squeeze in reassurance.

“You and me, Kitty, against the world,” she assured.

The expression he sported then, for the briefest moment he allowed himself to wear it, was as if she had revealed the secrets of the Universe to him.

He looked gutted again.

And she hated it.

How often had people disappointed him about anything?

How often had his Father bailed on him for whatever reason?

How many times had he been left to be alone?

“I will always be with you,” she hushed almost fiercely.

Awe flashed in his eyes before, overwhelmed, he closed them to forbid the emotional tears threatening to form.  He brought her hands to his lips, kissing each finger in reverence and gratitude.

The car glided to a smooth stop and the press crushed itself towards it, already shouting questions in the hopes of being the first to get answers they so desperately wanted.

Nathalie barely glanced at them all, her frown deepening by minute increments.  “Vultures,” she accused under her breath.

It was always the same thing with these reporters.  The screaming, the yelling, the demands for this or that.  They always wanted to know about their personal lives.

Even hers.

Forget asking questions about the company or an up and coming line like real reporters and journalists did, these scum of the earth demanded sordid details. 

Who were any of the Agreste men dating?

Who was she dating?

Was she linking herself to Gabriel Agreste in a romantic sense?

Could she confirm one rumor or another that had been circulating?

The more prominent questions lately seemed to revolve around the Rossi girl.  What lies had that one been spreading now?

Not that it mattered much, their Legal Department would handle anything she could try to fabricate.

Nathalie had a nagging suspicion though that the girl in question would try to make an appearance at this photo session, regardless of the fact that she was forbidden.

No doubt this was the reason for the presence of these bottom-feeders.  Rossi had spun a tale from one of her fake accounts and was hoping for some drama in her favour.

Despite her loyalty to Gabriel, Nathalie cared deeply for Adrien, almost as if he were her own blood.  So she would be damned if she let some little social climbing nobody use the boy for their own gains.

Unlike Miss Marinette.

This girl seemed to genuinely care for the Agreste teen.  The whole fact she hadn’t tried to run away from him when he was akumatized offered ample enough proof.  What she had heard from their classmates was Miss Marinette had been found at one point and she could have been rescued right then and there.

But she had insisted on staying.

And having seen the girl fight to protect Chat Blanc from Hawk Moth and Mayura’s control had been impressive.

She had no powers, yet was willing to risk her safety to an akuma victim.

It was very admirable.

Nathalie took a deep bracing breath and gave a curt nod to the driver, letting him know it was time to exit the vehicle.  With a grunt, he stepped out and rounded the sedan, ploughing through the crowd with ease due to his imposing size.  Most were intelligent enough to keep their distance from the big man.  Those who weren’t were unceremoniously shoved backwards.  Whether they recovered from that action or didn’t fall, neither Nathalie not the bodyguard cared very much.

She turned in her seat to the teens in the back.  “Ready?” she prompted.

At the slightly apprehensive look on Marinette’s face, Adrien gave her hand a gentle squeeze.  “Just hold my hand and don’t let go.”

A determined look he remembered seeing countless times on Ladybug settled over her face, her shoulder’s squaring as she shifted her grip on his hand to braid her fingers with him, strengthening her grip.

It was a mad a chaotic dash from the vehicle and into the building, paparazzi jostling with each other to try to grab the teens to stop them and interrogate them, as if they were owed this information. 

The discomfort Marinette felt from the grasping hands trying to stop her was palpable to Adrien, feeling his own ire rise that she was being frightened by these media leeches.  Each time she pressed into his side to avoid another clutching hand, he had to fight hard not to growl at the media in warning.

The urge to protect her, to take her away from this crazy mob was near overwhelming, almost feral.  But he managed to hang on to his rational side telling him to plough through, tenuous as it was, that they would be safe if they just made it inside the studio.

Prrrotect Marrri, he could almost hear being purred in the back of his mind.

It ate away, little by little, at his resolve against his urge to grab his partner and pounce away to safety… somewhere… anywhere but there!

And then the deafening calls and shouts from the media faded away, their clawing grasp left behind them as they entered the building, a heavy wooden door shutting them all out.

The control returned, pushing the feral need to protect back down from wherever it came.

“Adrien?” he heard Marinette call to him, just loud enough over the normal sounds of the studio.

He met her worried eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asked him.

“I’m…”  Adrien blinked, considering how he felt.  “I don’t… I’m not sure…”

“This is what you told me about in the car, isn’t it?”  She peered into his face carefully.  “They’re back to normal now, but your eyes were almost glowing just then.”

He felt a slight pang of worry tighten his chest.  “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

Her tender smile melted away any concern he might have had.  “I never have anything to fear when I see my partner’s beautiful green eyes.”  Then her voice dropped so only he could hear.  “Even if they turn magenta for a while.”

That statement knocked the air from his lungs, in a good way.  Adrien wrapped an arm tight around her shoulders to hold her close, reassured by her words and grateful to have her with him.  Marinette hugged him back just as tightly, nuzzling the side of his neck.

“I’m glad you’re here, My Princess,” he admitted in a soft breath.

“Always, My Prince.”

“I was worried I was going to have to call in police to clear out the crowd if you couldn’t get in,” an effeminate man dressed in what could only be described as fashion from the seventies announced as he approached the four newcomers.  “Their numbers seem to grow the more our leading man grows up.”

Then he appeared to notice Marinette and the way Adrien held her close to himself, both tender and protective.  He seemed confused by this for some as of yet unknown reason.

“Oh, but where are my manners!” he covered his confusion.  “I haven’t been introduced to the young lady here.”

The Agreste teen’s smile was cautious, knowing there was something wrong. 

“Michel Deharnais, photography coordinator, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Nathalie presented, not having noticed the look.

“Enchanté, mademoiselle…  Oh, but you were the young lady that… um…” and he gave a concerned look to each in the group, afraid that he was broaching a subject that was taboo.

Adrien allowed himself a small chuckle.  “Even akumatized, I still wanted to protect my girlfriend at all costs.  But, really, can you blame me?” and he nuzzled his face into Marinette’s hair, drawing a light giggle from her lips.

Again, Deharnais had a very visible and confused pause.  “Girlfriend?  But I thought the other one…?”

A growl threatened in the back of Adrien’s throat.  “What other one?” he all but demanded.

“Oh… uh… the Rossi girl. She’s in make-up right now getting ready.”

Nathalie scowled.  “And why are you permitting her in here?”

“She showed me some documents on her phone stating the protection order had been lifted and she was allowed to return, that she and our young Monsieur Agreste had reconciled their differences.”

Marinette could feel Adrien’s frame begin to tremble in growing ire and she tightened her arms around him in response.  She could see his eyes seeming to glow in the dim ambient light.  From the corner of her eye she could see Deharnais showing his phone screen to Nathalie, having received a copy of the documents Lila Rossi had claimed cancelled out all orders that she stay away.  Marinette trailed light scratches along Adrien’s back, making quiet shushing sounds to attempt to calm him.  His eyes closed as he leaned into her slightly to better focus on her voice and actions.

“Michel, these documents are forgeries,” Nathalie confirmed, her tone quite curt.  “None of the orders against Rossi were rescinded and, seeing this is the level she’ll stoop to, I am confident they never will.”

“Fakes?  Oh dear…  Security!”  At his call, a couple of men came running up.  “Go to make-up, find the Rossi girl, and escort her off the premises.  Now!”

The men ran off immediately.

Michel turned back to the small group.  “I am so incredible sorry for all this.  I thought I was smarter than this, to be taken in by a child…”

“She is adept at manipulation,” Nathalie offered.  “I, too, was once taken in by her tales.”

He pursed his lips.  “Well, I guess you have to be duped once to see her tricks.  I know now that I will need to verify with you on anything she may try next.”

“A wise course of action, Michel.”

Nathalie turned her attention to the teens, noting how Marinette doted on Adrien with soft whispers and gentle touches to keep him grounded.  Knowing very little about the akuma her employer has sent after him, she had a feeling that strong emotions could possibly trigger the boy.  In the time since he had been de-akumatized by Ladybug, she had been witness to many near moments when frustration or anger had caused him to growl low or cause his eyes to begin to glow and become feline.

Carefully she touched the baker girl’s shoulder to let her know Adrien would need to head to wardrobe.

To her credit, Marinette seemed to understand the silent ask.

“Adrien,” she called gently.  “Show me your eyes.”

He blinked at nothing a few times before looking at her.  His eyes were normal, no glow or feline trait to them.

She smiled tenderly.  “Hi, there.”

The tension bled from his shoulders, causing them to droop as he returned her smile.  With a light clunk he left his head drop to press his forehead to hers, needing her presence, her scent, to help chase away the animal threatening to escape his control.

At Nathalie’s urging, Michel stayed quiet off to the side.  After his earlier mistake with the Rossi girl, he would defer to her decisions while she was on set.  And for now, her decision was to allow the two teens a quiet moment for some reason.  Michel wouldn’t question the reason though; he knew better than to pry into anything that involved the Agrestes.  A number of his past colleagues had not been so smart and were now blacklisted from anything more than Santa Claus photos at the local mall.

So, he let her take the lead as how much time the boy needed right now, and he would let her decide to approach him to inform him that the photoshoot had to proceed now.

Nathalie carefully stepped up to the pair, hesitating only a instant before laying a hand to Adrien’s shoulder.  Tired eyes, completely unlike those from a few minutes ago before he learned of the Rossi girl’s presence, looked up to her.

“Do you think you’re still capable of doing this set?” she asked.

Michel couldn’t help but blink in surprise.

For as long as he had worked with Agreste Design, the Sanscoeur woman had always directed the boy through his photo sessions regardless of whether he was tired or ill or injured.  True, Adrien had always put a brave face for all the world to see and ploughed through regardless.

But this was different.

Was this a result of his unfortunate akumatization?

Had his household actually softened its stance with him?

Adrien heaved a breath, squaring his shoulders.  “Just keep Rossi and the paparazzi away from us,” he began, tightening his arm around Marinette’s shoulders, “… and I’ll be fine.”

“Miss Marinette, would you be willing to stay and assist in wardrobe?” Nathalie asked next.

Marinette perked at this, both surprised and a little excited to actually get hands-on fashion experience at a photoshoot.

“So long as I’m not encroaching…” she stated cautiously.

Michel had to smirk.  This girl was interested in fashion, but wasn’t some groupie or wannabe.  And she was polite.

Yes, he liked her.

“Janine is head of wardrobe,” he informed the girl.  “We’ll just let her know you’re there to learn with Agreste Design’s blessing and I’m sure she’ll have no problem showing you how things are done.”

Marinette was bouncing on her toes now, a wide and happy smile on her face, partially hidden by her fists in an attempt to stifle her elated scream.

“Oh, my God!  You’re all serious?”

Adrien chuckled lightly, his hand finding the small of her back to lead her towards the back of the large studio with Michel walking in-step with them.  Nathalie and the large bodyguard fell into step behind them.

Wardroom was less of a room and more of partitions erected near a wall where racks upon racks of clothing were organized by color and style.  Part of the room was curtained off, a temporary change room of sorts, and the opposite wall was dominated by a large, floor to ceiling mirror.  A woman, casually yet fashionably dressed and her greying hair pulled into a tight braid down her back, stood at one of the racks, carefully inspecting the clothing to keep herself busy while she waited.  She turned when she heard them enter.

“Janine Caron, Miss Marinette here has permission from Agreste Design to watch and learn the wardrobe aspect of fashion photography,” Michel announced by way of introduction.

The woman allowed herself to give a critical once-over to the girl the Agreste teen was keeping close to himself.

Well groomed.

Clothing were perfectly tailored.

Nothing she was wearing seemed to come from a commercial shop.

Boutique?  Maybe… though to be so well tailored and matched to her colour palette would mean she probably made them.

And then there was the clear indication of stars in the girl’s eyes, a desire to learn.

Janine smirked.

“Just look at the eagerness in her eyes.  Who am I to crush that dream?”

The security guards from earlier showed up in the doorway then, looking slightly perturbed.

“Sorry to interrupt…” one began.  “We looked everywhere for the Rossi girl.  Make-up said she was headed here.”

Janine shook her head.  “I noticed no one come in here, and I’ve been here for the last hour or so getting the outfits ready.”

Nathalie frowned at that and turned to the security guards.  “Keep searching.  Enlist the interns to help if you have to.  I will not have that girl roaming around the set unchecked.”  If the men could have clicked their heels in a salute before leaving, the would have.  “Michel and I will ensure the stage is secure and nothing has been tampered with.  I wouldn’t put it past Rossi doing something that would make her into a hero or martyr.  Adrien, you will remain here with Miss Marinette and Janine, Simon will stand guard outside.”

She left with the photographer in tow before another word could be said.

The head of wardrobe was left to blink after the woman, staring at the closed door for a moment in bewilderment.

“Well, that was interesting,” she voiced to the quiet room.  She looked to the teens.  “All this for the Rossi girl?  Isn’t that a bit much?”

“No,” the pair replied simultaneously, without hesitation.

“Is she really that bad?”

Adrien felt the growl rising in his throat again.  “It was her fault I was akumatized.  If it wasn’t for her lies and machinations to make herself into something she’ll never be, I would have never gotten… I wouldn’t have been vulnerable to Hawk Moth’s influence.”

Marinette pressed into his side, arms around his waist to offer support.  “It’s a long and messy story, one best not shared right now.”

“Oh, yes… of course,” Janine agreed.  “A perfect distraction would be to bury the boy in countless outfits, yes?  Therapy through fashion.”

That won a light chuckle from the model, allowing Marinette to leave his side when Janine called her over to the racks to peruse the wide selection of outfits. 

No one noticed a pair of green eyes watching from behind a far rack of clothing, frowning.

It was quickly clear to the older woman that this teen girl understood fashion quite a bit, easily picking up the tips she doled out as they prepared the first outfit Adrien would model: a pair of charcoal slacks paired with a rich burgundy shirt under a gray military style jacket, the Agreste Design’s bold G logo embroidered in silver thread on the breast over the heart.

Janine let the girl choose the accessories, wholly approving the selection of a rich cream coloured scarf and black gleaming men’s Brogues.

“So, these will be for the first set of photos, should last maybe fifteen minutes or so, and then we’ll move on to the next set,” the stylist explained.

“Only fifteen minutes?” Marinette questioned.

“Just for this part.  The plan is for twenty or so outfit changes today.”

She turned sharply to Adrien, an incredulous look on her face.  “Twenty outfit changes?”

He shrugged a smile.  “Sometimes more.”

“That’s just horrible!”

“It used to be.”  He gave her a coy smirk.  “But I think they’ll be very easy to tolerate now.”

Janine had to laugh at the deep blush that race over Marinette’s face and down her neck.  This pair was definitely too adorable for words.  She handed the selected outfit to the model, indicating the curtained off side of the room.

“Get changed, I’ll go see if their ready for you yet,” Janine instructed, failing to keep the amusement out of her voice.

When she was gone, the door left partially open just enough to see part of the bodyguard’s imposing form just beyond, Marinette turned a glare on her partner.  Her frame when ridged as she angrily stomped a foot, a move that so reminded him of Ladybug when she chastised him for a reckless move that it only pulled a chuckle out of him.  Whatever her mood, he always found her so impossibly adorable.

“That’s how rumors get started,” she accused.

Adrien smiled.  “One I would happily allow to run rampant.  I want everyone, the entire planet to know, that I am simply and utterly crazy about you.”

Whatever frustration she was feeling at that moment fizzled away in an instant, the tension in her shoulder melting away at the warmth that invaded her from his words.

“It’s not fair how you do that,” she stated, a blush working its way across her cheeks again.

Adrien carefully folded the outfit over his arm, slowly walking towards her with playful grin on his lips.  “What?  Change your mood in an instant?”

“I’m an open book to you.”

“Sometimes,” he conceded.  He invaded her space and gently gripped her chin to keep eye contact.  “Though sometimes I wish it was written in Braille.”

Her eyes went wide in understanding and she hid her face in her hands, feeling her cheeks warm yet again.

“S-stop th-that!”

“Stop what?”

“B-being s-so… s-so…”  She took a breath to stop the stutter and levelled him with a glare.  “So damned charming!”

Adrien couldn’t hold back the bark of pure laughter.  “You are just too cute when flustered, My Princess.”

She pouted, not quite managing to fight her own grin in response to his laugh.  “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know I’m lucky,” he admitted.  “The luckiest guy in the Universe because I have the most amazing girlfriend ever.”

Marinette shook her head, her pouting grin turning into a patient smile.  “Very smooth, Kitty.”

“Like leather,” and he stole a quick kiss to her cheek before turning towards the curtained off area.

A vicious shriek seemed to fill the room, a dark brown blur bursting out from the clothing racks and aimed straight for Marinette.  The baker girl was swung around, knocking off her balance, before being launched out the still open door, part of her side connecting painfully with the doorknob on the way.  Marinette twisted from her sprawl on the floor to see Lila sneering at her before shutting and locking the door.

Adrien glared at the unwanted girl, making sure to keep plenty of distance between them to not allow her a chance to do anything.

“Now, you and I are going to have a nice long chat,” Lila smiling almost maniacally at him, breath short from rushing and throwing Marinette out of the room.

The cat within began scratching at the mental door Adrien had shut on it, yowling to be released.  “I have nothing to say to you, nor do you have anything to say that I want to hear.”

The doorknob behind her rattled.

“Oh, you’ll listen to me, or…”

“Or what?” he challenged, the mental door beginning to crack and splinter.

A wild fire swirled in her green eyes.  “Or I’ll tell everyone you attacked me.  I’ve been working on some very convincing bruises the last few days.”

A hinge on the mental door rattled under the pressure the feline within exerted.  “Go ahead.  I’ll just have Legal take you to court where the real truth will come out.  You seem to forget who you’re trying to threaten, Rossi.”

She blinked at him, surprised that the threat of assault charges didn’t phase him.

Of course!

Why hadn’t she thought of that before?

As an internationally renown model, claims of assault of any kind were probably levelled against him every other day.  He and his team knew how to handle those with precision and discretion.

Even with the bruises, no one would believe Adrien attacked her since there was no proof that he ever attacked anyone.

The doorknob rattled again.

Fine, new tactic.

“Then I’ll accuse Dupain-Cheng of blackmail against you.”

She ignored the dangerous flash in his eyes, the increasing glow.

Plagg practically rattled in Adrien’s pocket, trying to distract his Chosen to stop what the little god knew was inevitable.

“I know that little Asian bitch has something on you,” Rossi continued with her new threat, unaware of the level of danger she was now in.  “It’s the only reason you could possibly be acting so lovey-dovey around her.  Afterall, she a little Chinese nothing compared to me, and I’ve already been telling everyone that we’ve been secretly dating since I arrived in Paris.”  

She pulled out her phone, missing his eyes going Chat for a brief moment, and activated the camera to record him, ignoring the pounding on the door or the knob rattling insistently. 

“You’ll tell the world that she’s just blackmailing you from your time as Chat Blanc, that she’s not your girlfriend, she just threatened to go public with you being less than gentlemanly with her during her captivity.  You’ll tell everyone that I was always and ever will be your girlfriend, but that Gabriel told you it would look better for the label if you were seen with her since she’s an aspiring designer, but she really has little talent in the field.”

“I won’t,” he managed, a dangerous growl in his voice.

His fingers began to itch, he could almost feel his nails lengthening to claws.

The pounding on the door became louder.

“You will, or I’ll do it for you, and I can promise you that I will be far less kind and diplomatic than you’ll be.” 

She turned her phone screen to herself, flipping through her media gallery in perverse glee, missing the silent snarl that curled Adrien’s lips, revealing lengthening fangs.

“I have enough video and audio of her to create very compelling recordings that will make everyone believe she’s just after you to advance her own career in fashion, nothing more.”

The mental door splintered some more, and Chat Blanc demanded release. 

Adrien did his best to keep him shuttered.

A failing endeavour.

“I warned her once to just back off and let me have my way or she would end up alone, without any friends, without you.  I don’t make threats lightly, so it truly is in your best interest to just break up with her and tell everyone you’ll only ever be with me from now on.”

Wait? 

Rossi had threatened Marinette?

His Princess?

The mental barrier cracked open slightly.

But Adrien had actually stopped fighting against his feral side at this point.

No one threatened his Lady!

Rossi laughed evilly, still scrolling through her phone, casting a look to the door to ensure it was still closed and locked.  “I can even go a step further if you want more incentive.  Sure, I’ll end up destroying that pretty little boy, Luka, but he’s hardly a concern of mine.  Not only can I paint her as a gold digger looking to advance her pathetic attempt into fashion and crush her dreams of ever being a designer, I have enough material to make her into an absolute slut who can’t keep her knees together.”

Whatever barrier remained vanished like pale smoke.

“So, what’s it going to be, Ad—”

She froze when she finally raised her eyes to the teen model, fear gripping her senses, phone dropping out of numbs hands. 

The clothes he had been holding were a forgotten pile on the floor.  His golden hair had turned ashen as his complexion had paled.  His eyes glowed a dangerous green, bright and menacing at the girl before him, his pupils a narrow feline slit.  Human ears had morphed into feline ears closer to the top of his head, sharp claws replacing his nails, sharp fangs bared in a silent snarl.

Unseen behind the teens back, Plagg tugged urgently at Adrien’s shirt, trying to either calm him or stop him, failing miserably at both.

Chat Blanc was back, but without the aid of an akuma.

The door continued to rattle, desperately so.

Lila felt the floor collide with her rear before she even realized her knees had buckled in shocked fear.  She scrambled backwards, hitting a wall far sooner than she would have liked to put as much distance between herself and the cat monster glaring at her.

But Lila was, if anything, quick witted.

She could turn any situation to her advantage in a heartbeat.

She was sure she could convince this creature… Adrien… not to attack her.

Afterall, Adrien Agreste was too gentle a soul to hurt anyone… right?

She began to laugh, trying hard to hide the anxiety in her tone, sounding fake even to her own ears.

“O-oh, my god!  I-I can’t believe you- you fell for all that,” and she laughed again.

Chat Blanc snarled, unconvinced.

“Y-you really d-didn’t believe I-I was going t-to all that, did you?”

Chat Blanc glared, eyes narrowing.

Lila flinched.  “Adrien?”

He howled.

She screamed.

The door to wardrobe launched off it’s hinged from the colossal bodyguard’s frame connecting with it with the full force of his weight.  The surprise caused Chat Blanc to pause.

Just behind the bodyguard’s frame, Nathalie and Marinette peered into the room to see what was happening.

Marinette reacted first at the sight of Chat Blanc.

She managed to squeak between the bodyguard and the doorframe, dashing straight for Chat Blanc as this one raised his claws to attack the cowering Rossi.  She collided with his chest, knocking him back a step from the force.  Marinette’s arms wound tight around his chest, face buried into the crook of his neck.

“Shhh, Kitty,” she whispered.  “I’m here, I’m here… I’ve got you…”

Chat Blanc hesitated, his nostrils filling with the familiar scent of bread and soap.

Her scent.

”Marrri…?”

She pulled back slightly to see his gaze had relaxed, the thin slits of his pupils had widened.  Relief began to flood her senses, a gentle caress to his cheek a silent reward for regaining control.

“It’s me, Adrien.  I’m here.”

He nosed her hair, eyes closing, a purr rumbling low in his throat.  “Marrri prrrotect Adrrrien.”

“Always, My Prince.

Seeing her chance now that Chat Blanc was distracted, Rossi leapt to her feet to throw herself at Nathalie, intent on turning the situation in her favour with one of her exaggerated claims.  The tears came easily at the Italian girl’s expert bidding.

“Oh, thank god you’re here!” she gushed, hanging on tight to the assistant despite this one’s very concerted attempts to push her away.  “He was going to attack me!  Marinette told him such horrible things that he got akumatized again!  I managed to throw her out of the room to try to calm him down, but he turned on me!”

“That, Miss Rossi, is a blatant lie,” Nathalie stated simply.

Lila gasped in indignation.  “I would never lie about this!  I saw the akuma myself right after I got Marinette out!”

The assistant finally freed herself from the teens grip and pushed her away.  “Hawk Moth’s wings have been clipped.  We have learned some particularly important information about him and are using it to keep him from akumatizing anyone in range of his butterflies.”

Lila blinked.  “W-what?  B-but… I saw the akuma!  And Adrien transformed into that… that thing!  How else could he do that without an akuma?”

“Residual effect of the last akuma.  Since you are such good friends with Ladybug, I suggest you go ask her the details about that particular and special akuma.”

“No!  He was akumatized just now!  I saw it with my own eyes!  How dare you call me a liar!”

“Miss Rossi, look long and hard at what’s occurring right now,” and she forcibly turned the girl to watch the other pair in the room.

Chat Blanc’s form was loose and almost leaning heavily on Dupain-Cheng.  Her arms were tight around his chest, practically supporting him.  Then, as if a switch had been flicked, Chat Blanc went completely limp and would have dropped heavily to the floor had the baker girl not had a hold on him as she did.  The motion to ease him down twisted them both into clearer view.

Rossi had to gasp.

Chat Blanc was gone, replaced by Adrien.

But there had been no release of an akuma from anything on the model.

No Ladybug or Chat Noir to the rescue of an akumatized victim, though how they knew before an alert often went up had always been a mystery.  Even when Rossi attempted to blame them for the akumatizations half the time.

The other issue was there were currently too many witness to state that there had been no purple butterfly.

She could barely hear the murmurs from the crowd beyond the door repeating her claim of having seen an akuma, yet there was no proof of one anywhere.

Nathalie snapped her fingers casually and a couple of security guards appeared at Lila’s either side, each grabbing an arm and physically lifting the girl off her feet to prevent her from running away.

“Escort Miss Rossi off the premises,” Nathalie instructed.  “I leave the decision up to you as to how far those premises extend to.”

Lila kicked out her legs in every which direction in hoped of hitting these men and getting them to let go, being very vocal and loud in her protests regarding her treatment.

No one paid her any attention, focused on what they could see through the broken door.

Nathalie appeared in the crowd’s line of sight, a stern expression on her face that would have made Gabriel Agreste proud.

“Need I remind any of you that, as employees of Agreste Design, anything you see and anything that happens during photo sessions or modelling events are covered by the non-disclosure agreements you all signed at the beginning of your contracts?”

The murmur from the crowd confirmed they understood what she was implying.

Should any of them breathe even a word of the events that had just transpired to anyone outside the studio at that very moment, they would find themselves both on the unemployment line and blacklisted from ever working in the field again, and be summoned to appear before the courts for the breach of the non-disclosure agreement.

No one wanted to risk either.

“Good.”  She turned to the Agreste personal bodyguard.  “Simon, a moment of privacy for the room, please.”

He nodded and, when she entered the room, he stood in front of the open door, his frame effectively blocking any sight within.

Nathalie noted Michel and Janine standing off to the side, looking unsure if they should try to help or not interfere with whatever had just happened.  She signalled to them to stay where they were, a silent sign to not interfere.

Carefully, the Sanscoeur woman approached Marinette sitting on the ground.  Adrien was partially draped across her lap, cheek resting against her belly, completely unconscious.  Marinette was threading a hand through the model’s hair, though Nathalie was unsure if the action was to subconsciously continue to keep Adrien calm, or if it was to reassure herself that he was okay.

She knelt next to the pair.  “I had seen signs this could happen.  I kept seeing his eyes turn cat-like more than once, when he became annoyed or upset,” she told the girl.

“Did he know this could happen?”

Nathalie knew which he she was referring to, but hesitated in answering.

Blue eyes frowned at the women, fixing her in place with an energy that felt oh so ancient and dangerous compared to the image this teen put forward to the world.

“Did he know?”

Marinette bit out each word in a clipped tone, barely keeping her anger at Gabriel Agreste in check.

Nathalie couldn’t blame the girl.

“I don’t think so, no,” she opted to reply.  “This was a new akuma he was trying out for the first time.”

“And decided to use his own Son as a guinea pig.  Gee, he’s just the epitome of fatherhood.”

“He never intended…  It wasn’t supposed to…”  She sighed.  “There is absolutely nothing I can say to pardon this, I know.  All he wanted was to have his family again.”

“He has a family, right here.  Did he forget Adrien is his Son?”

“No, he…”  She bit her lip, unable to voice her thought.

“No, he just thought he wasn’t as important as his wife,” Marinette finished for her, her tone bitter.

“Everything just got so out of hand.”

“You all lost the right to use that excuse several months ago.”

Nathalie’s hand hovered near Adrien’s hair, not daring to touch him.  “Mister Agreste did mention that perhaps the Great Guardian would have insight on how to fix this.”

“It should have never even happened in the first place to be fixed!  He makes the mess, but he insists on someone else to do the clean-up.”

Never mind the fact Marinette would never ask Master Fu to reveal himself with Gabriel Agreste around.  His activities might have been curtailed for the time being, but exposing the Great Guardian of the Miraculous to Hawk Moth, and possibly Mayura as well, was not something the girl was prepared to do.

Even if it was to help Adrien.

There was just too much at stake, and she knew her partner well enough to know he would have agreed.

“We deserve that.” Nathalie conceded.

“Yes, you do.”

Nathalie winced, but understood she was just as guilty for not having stopped her employer from acting as Gabriel was himself.  The anger this girl felt towards her and Gabriel was wholly justified, no matter how you looked at the situation.

“I’ll cancel today’s shoot and we’ll take Adrien back to the Manor,” she stated softly as she stood.  “Even if he does wake up soon, he won’t be in any condition to do this session.”

“You take him out of here,” said Michel, he and Janine having quietly listened in to the conversation, confused by the topic, but knowing it was not their place to ask or question.  “Janine and I will arrange to shut everything down here.”

Janine tsked softly as she and Michel left the room to start instructing their staff.  “Poor boy, the afternoon had announced itself so well for him too.”

“Could I ask you to stay with him, Miss Marinette?” Nathalie asked hesitantly.  “You seem to be able to reach him, even back when he was akumatized.  He trusts you.”

“For him, not for any of you.”

The Sanscoeur woman thin her lips, but nodded curtly.  “Understood.”

The assistant called to the bodyguard, instructing him to carry Adrien back out to the car.

Marinette swallowed hard at how small her partner looked in the large man’s arms.  This was her other half, a part of her heart, a part of her very life and soul.  Yet there he lay, helpless and unconscious.  It tore at every tiny part of her.

Taking their cue from the feel of the situation, the remaining security guards on the set made sure to carve a path through the media still waiting outside.

Predictably, Lila was there, hamming it up for whatever media deigned to give her the fifteen minutes of fame and attention she craved.

Marinette could just barely hear her spinning her yarn about being wrongfully terminated from Agreste Design, and making up some tall tale about why she had been ejected from the building a little earlier.  She braced herself, knowing exactly what story she would try to weave the second she saw them leaving.

Sure enough…

“There!  You see?” Lila yelled out to the crowd of reporters, pointing to the small group heading for the Agreste sedan.  “It’s exactly like I said!  He passed out because he fought off being akumatized again by Hawk Moth!  I saw the akuma!  I was a witness to all those nasty things Dupain-Cheng told him to cause him to be akumatized!”

Marinette felt her spine go stiff and she very nearly turned to the crowd to counter Rossi’s claims, but Nathalie’s hand on her shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze stopped her.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the, ehrem, Press,” she began and the baker girl just barely suppressed her smirk at the veiled insult the older woman had just levelled.  “Agreste Design will be putting out a statement in the morning about today’s events.  Until then, I would advise you to consider very carefully your source of a fired and disgruntled employee against whom we have a protection order.  Good day.”

The crowd dispersed, satisfied with the knowledge that information would come the next day.

Lila protested to anyone she could reach, clawing at arms, repeating her story over and over in the hopes that someone would pick it up to run with it.  It had to make the news, both to bolster her claims and to discredit Dupain-Cheng.

But no seemed to be listening anymore.

Marinette was ushered into the back of the sedan first in order to help the bodyguard ease Adrien’s form onto the backseat.  She cradled the model’s head in her lap, threading her fingers through his hair. Assured that the teen girl would make sure Adrien was secure and safe, the assistant and bodyguard took their place in the front and drove off.

Not once during the trip back did Adrien wake.

Plagg huddled just inside Marinette’s collar to remain unseen, keening softly down at his Chosen.  The little god had felt the sharp spike of energy when Adrien had changed, and then the complete drop of that same force and then just vanish once he had been sufficiently calmed.

But why had this happened in the first place?

Once back to the Manor, the bodyguard once again carefully picked up his charge to bring him inside, Marinette close on his heels.  At the bottom of the Manor’s imposing staircase stood Gabriel waiting anxiously.  Nathalie approached her employer as the others headed for the stairs.

“What happened?” the businessman demanded.

“Your special akuma had residual effects,… Sir,” Marinette snapped at him before Nathalie could respond.

And she continued after the bodyguard to Adrien’s room.

There was nothing he could say at the moment.  Someone had snapped at him.  And not just anyone, but a young girl, one of his Son’s classmates.

He looked to his assistant.

“He changed into the Chat Blanc persona from his akumatization, Sir.  You never sent…?”

“No, of course not.  My contract with Adrien forbids me.  The akuma is still affecting him?”

“It would seem so, Sir.  For the last week, I have noticed his eyes would occasionally change during emotional moments.”

“What caused this event?”

“The Rossi girl, Sir.  She lied her way onto the set and locked herself in wardrobe with Adrien.  I don’t know what she did to him or told him, but when Simon finally managed to break the door down, Adrien had changed into Chat Blanc.”

Gabriel removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose in tired frustration.  “I am going to regret ever having let her get so close for so long, for as long as I live.”

“None of us knew how conniving she could truly be, Sir.”

“Small comfort.”  He put his glasses back on and looked up to his Son’s room.  “Did he hurt anyone?”

“No, Sir, Miss Marinette was able to get to him and calm him before he could act.”

He smirked.  “Interesting.”  Then he blinked at a thought.  “She’s not suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, is she?  An attachment to my Son from her time as his captive?”

“I have had a chance to observe her since then, Sir.  Her attachment is not a psychological break.  From what I have learned from her classmates, she had always been fond of Adrien since he started at Francoise Dupont.”

“An obsessive fan?”

“Hardly, Sir.  From what I’ve been told and observed, she truly does care for Adrien.  And he trusts her.”

“It would explain why he kept her close during that week.”

“From what her classmates have reported, Miss Marinette insisted on staying with him, understanding that he was calm when he was around her.  He had attempted to attack one of her friends who tried to get her away from him.  If it hadn’t been for her calming Chat Blanc, I’m sure the boy would have been severely injured.”

Gabriel pondered this information.

He had no doubt his Son would attract numerous romantic suitors.  This was already the case.  But all of those had been either drawn only by his looks or the promise of part of the Agreste fortune.

Obviously not Miss Marinette though.

Nor was she trying to use his Son to advance her very promising career in fashion.

This kind of character these days was extremely rare.

Thinking back, he could remember his Son speaking very highly of the girl.  In fact, he spoke of her more often than any of his other friends, including that insufferable Lahiffe boy.

The fashion mogul allowed himself a small grin.

He wasn’t adverse to encouraging a burgeoning romance between Adrien and Miss Marinette.

“Give Miss Marinette free access to the Manor.  There is a way to reverse this in the Miraculous book.  Until I can discover a way to remove all residual effects of my last akuma, we will need her influence on him to prevent another change.”

“Yes, Sir.”

*   *   *

Marinette carefully supported Adrien’s head as the bodyguard set the teen down on his bed.  Adrien sighed in his unconscious state, reacting to the feel of the mattress and pillow beneath him.

“Thank you,” she offered the minder.

He merely offered a curt nod and left, closing the door behind him.

“Plagg, cold washcloth,” she instructed urgently.  “Tikki, water bottle from the mini fridge.”

The kwami dashed off to complete their tasks while Marinette watched over her partner.

The god of destructions returned first, handing the cold and wet washcloth to the girl.  Marinette sat on the edge of the bed and pressed the cloth gently to Adrien’s brow, down along his cheek, and across his throat.  Plagg settled on her shoulder to watch, quiet in worry, Tikki floating off to the side while holding a water bottle in her tiny paws.

“Is he okay?” Plagg finally questioned in the quiet.

“I think so,” Marinette replied.  “I think this just drained him, like a real de-akumatization.”

“I don’t understand,” Tikki fretted.  “There was no akuma.  How could he transform without an akuma?  How could this happen?”

Marinette frowned.  “Hawk Moth playing with Nooroo’s akuma, that’s how.  I already was starting to dislike Mister Agreste for what he was putting Adrien through, but all this…?  I don’t want to, but… I hate him.  I really, really hate him.”

Plagg hissed softly.  “Well, it’s a good thing the kid has a deal with the old man to keep him from akumatizing anyone, or we’d be on purple butterfly lookout right now.”

“We need to talk to Master Fu,” Tikki added.  “He has to have something in the book or in his scrolls about this.”

“It’ll have to wait a few days,” Marinette counselled.  “With this last event, Adrien will be watched very closely by everyone.  We can’t risk anyone following us when we go see him.”

“Then it is good that I came to you,” a new voice announced from near the window.

Marinette whirled around just in time to see a Miraculous transformation drop from the old Master’s form.  For a moment, a tiny fear raced up her spine.  The last Great Guardian of the Miraculous was here, in the same house as their enemy, Hawk Moth.  This was dangerous.

But then, the old man was rather adept at getting in and out of places without being noticed and without drawing attention to himself.  He had gotten her and Adrien their Miraculous gems without anyone seeing him, though that might have been his kwami, Wayzz.

She smirked at Fu as he approached.  “Doors mean nothing to you, do they?”

He smiled in amusement.  “With the number of cameras surrounding this house, it seemed the safer option.” 

“It’s dangerous for you to be here.”

“Only if I’m caught.”

Approaching the other side of the bed, he peered down at the unconscious teen.  Closing his eyes, Fu hovered a hand over Adrien’s face and chest, feeling the energies radiating from the teen.  Wayzz hovered nearby, eyes also closed, funneling his energies to his Master to help his senses open to the form before him. 

Under layers of calm and control were crashing waves of chaos.  It was as if feeling the smooth vibrations of a symphony in completely harmony, and then just beneath that was the cacophony of a school band learning their instruments for the first time.

Fu sighed heavily, hand dropping away and looking over to Marinette.

“His chi is in a state of complete disarray.  I felt his akumatization the first time, but I could not find him afterwards.”

The girl smiled fondly.  “No one knows the city like Chat Noir.”

“Ah, so you know?”

“And he knows about me.  Does… does that mean you’ll be taking our Miraculous?”

Tikki and Plagg floated at her shoulders, staring at Fu in horror at the prospects of losing their Chosen, but remaining quiet.  Wayzz remained silent, mirroring a much more subdued reaction than the red and black kwami.  He had seen this more than once in the centuries, and in the last century with Fu, he had seen Miraculous gems activated and taken away just as quickly.

It was always emotionally painful.

“Hmm?  Oh!”  Fu stroked his beard for a moment in thought.  “As much as I dislike this situation, that this makes things all the more dangerous to you both…  There is no one else I could safely entrust the Miraculous to.  You both shall keep your Miraculous.”

The tension bled away from Marinette and Tikki.

“We know who Hawk Moth is!” Plagg suddenly blurted.

This startled Fu, the old man gaping in surprise at the kwami.  “What?”

Marinette carefully sponged the wet washcloth against Adrien’s face.  “It’s why it’s dangerous for you to be here, and for us to go to you.  It’s… it’s Gabriel Agreste.”

Fu fell silent at that.

What could he say?

But he had to know.

“Does Adrien know?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, dear…”

Tikki hesitated, then flew forward a bit.  “Master, Adrien’s akuma was purified almost two weeks ago, but just today he… he transformed into his akuma persona.  This shouldn’t be possible… should it?”

“No, but I suspect this was not your average akuma, was it?”

“Plagg said it was white,” Marinette supplied.

“That’s right!” the black kwami exclaimed excitedly.  “It was really bright white and ol’ Gabe didn’t seem to have complete control over the kid.  Adrien said he could feel when he was trying to control him, and he would just run the rooftops then to make sure his Dad couldn’t find him or make him hurt Ladybug.”

“Fascinating…” Fu breathed.  “I will have to study the book, if Hawk Moth… Gabriel… created this akuma using his copy of the book, then the answer is there somewhere.”

Marinette looked up for guidance.  “Until then?”

“Until then…  Your bond with Chat Noir will ground him, so I recommend staying with him as much as is allowed.  I’m sorry, you were no doubt hoping for answers right now.”

“No, no, I wasn’t actually hoping for anything today after this.  I was wondering how we were going to come see you without Mister Agreste finding out.”

His expression morphed to pure mischief.  “Well, then, the next time I come to you both, I shall endeavor to be as sneaky as I can.”  This got her to chuckle lightly.  “I will try to work quickly, as Hawk Moth no doubt is.  I am sorry to cut this visit short, but to stay longer is to tempt Fate.  I will contact you both as soon as I learn anything.”

“Thank you, Master.”

With a curt bow, Fu called on Wayzz to transform him again.  A final reassuring smile to the girl send Jade Turtle racing to the window, easily leaping out to the roof next door, the Miraculous completely erasing the effects of the man’s advanced age.

Marinette watched him disappear in the distance before returning her attention to her partner.  If she hadn’t known about the events from earlier, she could almost imagine he was just asleep.  He actually looked peaceful.  She trailed the backs of her fingers down the side of Adrien’s face.  Silently she wondered what Lila had told him to force enough whatever emotion had gotten him to transform.  Once she was sure it wouldn’t trigger him, Marinette might ask him.

Lila didn’t have much leverage against him since being fired and the protection order against her.  She had no access to speak to him about anything.  She couldn’t model with him anymore to create and image for herself.

And there was the interesting effect everything that had happened had on the class.

Something must have occurred during the time Chat Blanc had kept Marinette away.

The class was less believing of the Italian girl’s claims, less willing to listen.

Had they finally clued in on the truth?

It was about time!

Adrien suddenly inhaled deeply, surfacing from his torpor.  Arms stiffened in a feline stretch.  Green eyes barely opened, immediately focusing on Marinette.  A goofy, sleepy smile spread over his lips.

“Hi,” he greeted.

Marinette had to smile.  “Hi,” she returned.

Then, everything came crashing back to the model and he bolted up in bed with a look of panic.  Her hands gripped his shoulders to both brace and restrain him.

“Easy, Kitty, you’re home.  You’re okay.”

Adrien held up a hand, half expecting to see claws tipping his fingers, but seeing his normal fingers.  He ran that same hand through his hair, a nervous gesture while also checking for feline ears on top of his head.

“I… I changed?” he asked.

“You did.”

“I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”

“No, but I think Lila might re-think trying to provoke you in any way for the next little while.”

“It would’ve been fun to watch you teach her a lesson though,” Plagg admitted. 

“Plagg, we’re heroes!” his counterpart admonished.  “We don’t attack people.”

“Even when they deserve it?”

“Even when.”  Tikki floated over and handed Adrien the water bottle she had retrieved earlier.  “Master Fu was here while you were unconscious.”

“He was?  Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Like all of us, he must have felt the danger was well worth the risk,” the little goddess smiled.  “He’s researching what your Father did to the akuma to cause all this.”

“My Father is probably researching what he did too,” and he took a long drink from the bottle.  “And he has an advantage since he knows where to start in the book.”

Marinette frowned.  “I still think it was beyond the lowest of the low for him to have used you as a Guinea pig.  What kind of parent uses their child like that?”

“One who also happens to be Hawk Moth.”

Her expression softened at him at his response, moving to sit closer at his side.  “I am so sorry you have to go through any of this, My Prince.  It’s so not fair.”

He shrugged.  “Luck of the black cat.”

“Then I’ll just have to wrap you up in the luck of the ladybug to cancel it out.”

A watery smile touched his lips before he let his head drop to her shoulder.  As Ladybug, she had always been his anchor.  Just thinking about her strength and spirit made him feel stronger and capable of facing whatever he was presented with.  Sometimes, before he knew they were one and the same, those thoughts would morph to Marinette being his inspiration to forge ahead.

And now she was here, with him.  His best friend and Lady was also his close classmate and now girlfriend.

He still found it hard to believe that last part.

Marinette’s hand immediately found the back of his head when it rested on her shoulder, threading through his hair.  Never in her wildest dreams had she believed that someday she could call Adrien her boyfriend.  In a way, she owed Hawk Moth for his last akuma.  Had Gabriel not used his Son with his new white butterfly, neither of them would have learned each other’s identity, nor would they have either taken this massive step forward, going from maybe just friends to an actual couple.

But it also made knowing what she did about his civilian home life all that more painful to know. 

Gentle fingers scratched his scalp lightly, both reassuring and soothing.  It pulled a soft purr from him.

“We’ll find a way to fix this, Kitty,” she whispered to him.  “I promise.”

Chapter Text

Chloé Bourgeois stretched languidly, arms high above her head, as she reclined in one of the plush chairs that adorned her suite at the Royale Paris hotel.  It was early for a Sunday, far earlier than she was used to getting up, but Alya Césaire had been more insistent than her usual annoying self.

And she had mentioned this involved Adrien, so of course Chloé was interested.

That was how Alya, accompanied by Nino as always, ended up sitting on the couch across from her.

“So what was so important, and involving my Adri-kins, that you had to wake me up at this ungodly hour on a weekend?” the affluent blonde demanded.

Alya heaved a preparatory breath.  “What do you know about Lila?  Like, really know.”

Chloé began to smirk.  “Oh.”

Nino was both surprised and confused by her reaction.  “You know?”

“Lahiffe, I have known since the day she started at our school.  No one, not even the family of a Diplomat, could even have a fraction of the fantastic life she was claiming to have.  And, if you paid attention to the details, they never quite matched up.  Two plus two never added up to four with her.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, then?” Alya posed.

“I was curious to see how far Rossi could drag you along.  Also, Marinette was telling all of you what was going on, I felt I didn’t need to.  And you call yourself her best friend, honestly!”

Alya curled in on herself, still feeling the shame of having doubted her friend’s word over that of someone who seemed to sprinkle star dust on everything word she spoke.

“I made a lot of mistakes,” she admitted softly.  “I’m working on fixing all that.”

“Is this what this is?” asked Chloé.

“I hope so.”

“What clued you in to Rossi’s lies anyway?”

“A few things actually.  You know what Luka had told us when he followed Chat Blanc?  How he had headed West?  Remember what Lila had texted to all of us.  She said Chat Blanc was headed East.  At first I thought, oh, maybe she just made a mistake with her directions, but…”

“But if she had lived in the African bush for all those months, like she claimed, then cardinal points would be second nature to her no matter where she is,” Chloé completed.

“Right!” Nino exclaimed.  “And then there was her lie about being in contact with my boy during the whole Chat Blanc thing, about them talking almost nightly and setting up what she called their first public date.”

Chloé scoffed.  “As if my Adri-kins would stoop so low on the social ladder as to date that little viper.”

“But that was also the nail in her coffin she never realized she hammered into place,” the DJ continued.  “She told us this after Luka said that Mari told him Chat Blanc was Adrien akumatized.”

The blonde laughed.  “Oh, my god!  She’s an even bigger idiot than I thought!  Can’t even make sure who knows what before spinning a new tale.”

“So it got me thinking then,” Alya took up.  “Why would she lie about those two things, especially if she thought we would check.”

Chloé huffed a smirk.  “Because she was so sure of her control on the class that she was confident you wouldn’t check.”

Nino took his hat off his head and gave it a guilty twist between his hands.  “Yeah, we came to that conclusion too.”

“Reluctantly,” Alya added.

“But we it also got us looking into her other claims.  We were able to punch some pretty massive holes in every last one of them.”

Chloé tapped a finger on the chair’s armrest, looking at them both critically.  “Did you tell all this to Marinette?”

“A few days after Sunshine came back to class,” said Alya.

“Well, now, our group increases by two.”

“Who else knows?”

“Marinette’s parents, of course.  They would believe her over the Pope, but then I know Marinette has never and would never lie to them.  She hates liars.  And Madame Mendeleiev knows as well since Rossi has never been able to produce an absence note or medical note to try to get out of doing things in her class.  My Adri-kins and Marinette, of course, though I’m still trying to figure out how she found out Rossi lies as she breathes.  And me, since no one can ever be more glamourous than I can.”

“So how much do you know about Rossi’s lies?”

“I know that nothing she’s told the class is even remotely true.  And I know that Adri-kins last restrictions, that probably caused his akumatization, were her fault.  You know that photo she posted?  Daddy told me that a condition of the protection order against her is she had to delete it from all her social media platforms and devices.”

Nino winced.  “Ouch, but smart.  Letting her keep it would mean she could try to use it for some sort of blackmail later on.”

“Or a payday by selling it to a tabloid,” Alya added.  “Sunshine was not home at the time, right?”

“He was at the Louvre doing a hush-hush photoshoot.  You can ask Alix about that, her Father no doubt gave her a warning.  Nathniel was with Alix at the Louvre that day.  And I know because Adri-kins tells me everything.  Rossi probably broke into the house to get that photo, Mister Agreste has had the Manor in lockdown since Aunt Emilie… well…  Anyway, Adrien tells me the only times Rossi was allowed at the Manor was not to see him, but to have a meeting with Mister Agreste.”

The teens appeared confused.  “Why would she be meeting with Mister Agreste?” Alya voiced.

“Well, up until the protection order was issued, she was his employee.  His muse, as he called it, but that is actually so creepy when you think about it.  But, in my experience, models do not meet with the CEOs of fashion houses.  All business is usually done between models and their agents or designers, or the design staff.”

“So… I repeat the question:  Why would she be meeting with Mister Agreste?”

“You found nothing about that in your research?”

She shrugged.  “Only like you said:  She worked for Agreste Design and Mister Agreste called her his muse.  But every comment I found on her few photo spreads actually wonder if Mister Agreste has lost it by hiring her.”

“Well, there are intelligent people on this planet after all.  Let me guess:  She has no modeling talent?  She doesn’t have any unique look?  She’s awkward looking in her photos with Adrien?  Any of those close?”

Alya merely nodded.

“Mother was the first to call him out with his use of Rossi with Adri-kins.  That he ignored her warnings…”  She pouted I thought.  “Do you think I would be crazy to suggest that using her as a model is just a front for something more?”

Nino clicked his tongue.  “A month ago, yeah, that would’ve sounded crazy.”

“But looking back on everything now…” Alya continued.  “All the claims involving Adrien and Agreste Design…  She knows his schedule better than Marinette, but if Adrien avoided her like he said he did then how would she get that info?  Lila would have to be getting it directly from the source.”

“But why would they need her to be where he is all the time?”

“Something I noticed,” Chloé began, leaning forward slightly.  “The times Adri-kins went off-schedule, Rossi got herself invited to wherever he was going and then Nathalie would miraculously show up to drag him home.”

Nino blinked rapidly.  “Dude!  She’s spying on him?”

“And reporting back to Nathalie and Mister Agreste,” Alya concluded in horror.

Chloé nodded slowly, looking off to the side at nothing while her mind replayed all the times she had been a witness to.

“It makes sense, in a scary kind of way.  Mister Agreste has always been super protective of Adrien since… And I know he became a lot more anxious when Adri-kins started coming to school, that why his bodyguard stayed parked out in front of the building.  Powerful men like him are used to control, to knowing everything about everything around them or than involves them.”

She then leaned back in her seat with a heavy exhale, looking a little defeated.

“But, to use a legal term here, it’s all conjecture.”

“What?” asked Nino.

“An opinion or conclusion formed on the basis of incomplete information,” Alya supplied absently.  “And she’s right, we don’t have the full picture here.  Did he hire her originally as a spy and the modelling was to be her cover?  What did she tell him about all of us or about Adrien to allow it to continue?  What did Mister Agreste have on her if she wasn’t willing, or vice versa?”

“Oh, she was willing,” Chloé sniffed with a dismissive wave.  “This is the sort of thing I know she would relish in:  Using my Adri-kins as a climbing hook to clamber up the social mountain.  Mister Agreste probably promised her fame and fortune to do this.  Exactly what she wants.”

“Now that Mister Agreste fired her and issued a protection order, all that is gone.”

“Which means she’s dangerous.  She’s probably desperate to regain all of it since it was her carte blanche to get into parties and galas, have her face in magazines.” 

The Bourgeois girl paused in thought.

If she were narcissistic to the point of Lila Rossi, what would she be capable of?

Lies could only take a person so far before they started to crumble around you.  To solidify any part of the fantasy she created around her, Rossi would need money, something her Mother didn’t have easy access to as a Diplomatic Aide. 

The other option would be to tie herself to those who were rich, famous, and influential.  Rossi had gained that for a while with Agreste Design, the ability to get in to any event due to her contract, but not anymore.

What was she capable of?

“I’m worried about Adri-kins,” she admitted, letting her haughty persona fall away.

“You and us both, Dudette.  And that extends to Mari.”

“It’s why we’re here, actually,” Alya stated.  “We know the truth about her.  We can run interference or…”

Chloé noted the cliché pause and decided to humour her.  “Or…?”

“Or… we can take her down from her self-constructed pedestal.”

The Mayor’s Daughter chuckled.  “See, this?  This, I expected from you, Césaire.  But you, Lahiffe, you always struck me as being too, I don’t know, soft for this sort of thing.”

He straightened defiantly.  “No one hurts my Bro!  And knowing all this about Lila and that she’s been going after Mari because our girl knew the truth, nah, I’m not sitting by anymore and just let it happen.  She’s hurting my two best friends.  Over my dead body!”

“Good, you do have a backbone.”  She turned back to the reporter.  “Alright, Césaire, I know you already have most of the legwork done on your little plan.  And you now need my help to put it into motion.  I’m in.”

“You don’t know what we need you to do,” Alya stated, her tone almost cautioning the blonde.

“I don’t need to know.  You’re in it to take down Rossi.  There’s room for only one Queen Bee in this city and that is and will always be me.  Now lay out this plan of yours that only my fabulousness can complete.”

*    *    *

Juleka Couffaine could hear the guitar notes before she even reached the steps leading to below decks of the family houseboat.  The music was melancholic, nothing what she knew they musician playing it usually was.

She smirked.  She knew why he was this way, even if he denied it.  He had been this way for close to three weeks now, slowly descending deeper and deeper into his moodiness.

Shaking her head, she descended the last of the stairs and entered the room, tossing her bookbag to her bed.

“You know, that whole emo thing you’ve adopted is starting to get old, Luka,” she teased him.

He huffed.  “This coming from the Goth?”

A pillow abruptly collided with his face causing his fingers to strike a very off chord on the guitar he had been strumming.

“Ow!  Hey!” he protested.

“Well, it got you to stop your chicken plucking that you call a tune.”

He paused, looking down at the instrument.  “It’s the song in my heart.”

Juleka snorted.  “Emo!”

He frowned at her.  “I am not an emo!”

“Okay, then you’re depressed.  Not a good look, either way.  What gives?”

He swallowed the annoyed growl, frustrated more at himself than his Sister, and set his guitar aside on his bed, leaning back against the wall, smacking his head on the wood panels.  To Juleka, it looked at that moment like his heart had been torn out, and suddenly she understood before he even said a word.  She had felt that exact same thing before, so many years ago.

He stared ahead of himself.  “It’s been three weeks, Jules, and I can’t stop thinking about her.”

There was no mistaking who this her was.

“Marinette,” the girl confirmed.

He nodded, still not looking at his Sister.  “I still hear her heart’s song, both when I’m awake and asleep.”  He closed his eyes as if hearing the tune.  “It’s such a beautiful sound: exciting; mysterious; calming.  It’s the kind of song you want to play on repeat because you know you’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

“That sounds heavy, Luka.”

“I know.  I know she made it clear that I was never the one she wanted to be with like that, that Adrien still held her heart, but there was a part of me that still hoped that maybe… just maybe…”  He looked to his Sister.  “Does that make me creepy?”

“Only if you decide to act on it, something I know for a fact you never would, or Mom would beat the tar out of you.”

He chuckled.  “Mom raised us right.”

“To her credit.  But Marinette has that affect on the people around her, always has.  She has this… this glow about her.  You’re tingly around her in a good way.  No one in our class was immune to it.”

“Yeah?”

“Nathaniel had the biggest crush on her for a while.”

“He’s the artist in your class, right?  The redhead?”

“Right, but Mari introduced him to Marc a few months ago and now they’re together.  Somehow, she knew they would hit it off, though I think it’s because she recognized they were both creative minds.  And Nino had a crush on her too.  He even got Adrien to help him out at the time to try to ask her out.  Not sure what happened, but Nino ended up asking Alya to be his girlfriend instead.”  She sat on the edge of her bed.  “Everyone who ever meets her is drawn to her, but they never end up with her or for very long.  It’s almost like the Universe had a different plan for her than the rest of us.”

“Different plan?”

“Like… like she was never meant for any of us, you know.  At least, not until Adrien showed up.  Kim used to joke that Mari fit the stereotypical description of the old maid seamstress.  She never seemed to be interested in anyone except fashion and she was going to grow old alone with a cat... or was that a hamster?  With a house-full of pets.”

“But that changed when Adrien started in your class?”

“Pretty much.  And what we got from him is he had only ever been around Chloé for most of his life, but he wasn’t interested in her as she wanted him to be.  Nino told us once that Adrien said he saw her as his Sister.  And Adrien made it very clear he wasn’t even remotely interested in Lila each time she tried to latch onto him or when she would try to tell us she was dating him.  Those two never added up.”

Luka almost winced at a thought.  “But then he met Marinette on his first day.”

She nodded.  “And I think he was clueless about what he felt for her all this time.  All that homeschooling…  He never made a move.  Oh, sure, he was nice to her and complimented her and he trusts her over anyone else, but I don’t think he knew how he really felt.”

“She kept trying so hard to make him notice her.”

“Little realizing that he did notice her.  Hard not to miss our Marinette.”

He smiled sadly.  “That’s very true.  But it took him being akumatized to realize how he felt.”

“Might have opened his eyes, I’m sure he already knew how he felt.  It’s not all fresh right after, but the memories of what you did do come back when Ladybug de-akumatizes you.”

He took a deep breath, looking at his hands.  “Is it bad that part of me wished that it would have pushed them apart?  That she would have seen he wasn’t as perfect as she thinks he is?”

“Nah, just makes you one of us normal mortals.  And she knows he’s not perfect.”

“There was a time when she didn’t want to chase after him anymore.”

“Yeah…  The time you went skating together.  She wanted to give him up when he started showing an interest in Kagami Tsurugi.  That’s just how Mari is, if she thought he would be happier with Kagami, she would give him up in an instant.  It was why we were all here that day, Alya had called a kind of war room to find a way to get Adrien’s attention back on Marinette.”  She chuckled.  “Alya wanted them to be together so badly that she was willing to do anything short of murder to make it happen.”

“Was murder your idea?”

“Kidnapping, actually.”

“Ah.”

She shrugged.  “But no one thought it was a good idea.”

He smirked slightly.  “So, your friends as sane after all.”

Juleka chuckled.  “For the most part.  They were still willing to do some pretty drastic stuff to break Adrien and Kagami apart. I don’t think any of them believed Lila when she said they were together either.  But, back to your problem, as much as it hurts for you to hear it, I don’t really think you were ever going to be with Marinette.  At least, not for long.”

He sighed and banged his head gently on the wall behind him.  “I knew that from the sound of their heart songs.  They were just so much in sync, so much in harmony…  Like…”

“Like they were made for each other.”

He looked away to hide his wince.  “Yeah.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile before walking over to his bed to sit close to his side.  “Remember when I started at Francoise Dupont and met Rose for the first time?”

He chuckled lightly.  “She was this tiny pink and blonde frilly thing that looked like she was going to break if you touched her wrong.  Your complete opposite.”

“Remember what I told you after the first week or meeting her?”

“That you met the girl of your dreams and wanted to spend the rest of your life with her.  Mom and I thought you were crazy.  Dark as you were, being with little miss bubble gum?  Besides, you were with that other little Goth… what was her name?”

“Sheryl.”

“You’d been friends with her since you were kids, and both came out to each other before announcing to both our families that you would someday get married.”

“I did like her a lot, but as we grew a little older, I realized that like never changed to anything more.  I think Sheryl felt that since she started pulling away and hanging out with her other friends.”

“Mom and I noticed.  We were sure you were going to hate each other before the end of the semester.”

“And you were right.  I don’t even remember what it was about or who started it, but right before Christmas break we had a horrible fight.”

“You came home a crying mess.  Took all out threats from Mom to get you to eat during break.”

“But you know what?  That’s when I met Rose.  She didn’t talk to me like I was the scary Goth kid.  She was actually worried about me.  No one ever made me feel good about myself the way Rose did.  That’s when I started to see that Sheryl and I had drifted too far apart during that first semester.  We weren’t even really friends anymore, no matter how much I tried to cling to it.” 

“Not that I don’t appreciate this trip down memory lane, but is there a point to all this?”

She rested her cheek to her Brother’s shoulder.  “My point is we often meet people who we think, this is it, this person is who I’ll be with forever.  And you’ll want to fight tooth and nail to keep that relationship no matter what because it’s what you’re used to.  It’s warm and cozy, and you really thought this was what you wanted.”

“I sense a but.”

She smirked.  “But…,” she confirmed.  “Sometimes that first crush or sweetheart isn’t your forever.  Sometimes they just end up being the means to finding the person who is your real other half.  It’ll hurt, it always does when you give a part of your heart to someone thinking that’s your forever, but the hurt does go away when you finally meet the one you’re meant to be with.”

He stared ahead at the other wall for a moment, mulling her words.  Juleka was right.  It was another was of saying, when one door closes, another one opens, but it was right.

He looked down at the top of her head.  “When did you get so smart?”

She grinned up at him impishly.  “About the same time you became emo.”

And a pillow whacked her in the face.

*    *    *

Marinette’s thumb tip was firmly wedged between her teeth as she stared nervously at her take-out cup of coffee, eyes tracing the light embossing on the outside of the cup.  Adrien sat across from her at a small bistro table with his own drink.  She could feel his eyes on her.  Just out of what would have been normal earshot, she could just hear a number of high-speed cameras capturing photo upon photo of her outing with Adrien… again.

She had to smirk. 

Had she been just an ordinary girl, she would have never noticed them, but she wasn’t just an ordinary girl.

She was Ladybug.

Those photographers thought they were being so sneaky, hiding around corners or behind newspapers and plants.  It was like something out of a badly scripted cartoon meant for the very young, the ones where disassociating with reality was a must for the story to even work. 

Every time she had gone somewhere in public with Adrien, these photographers had followed.  Be it a casual walk through the city streets, lazy window-shopping trips or running an errand to a fabric shop, or even a trip to the library or museum for a class project, these paparazzi were there.  As if the thick sunglasses or the bulk of their cameras badly hidden under a jacket could make them inconspicuous.  Whether it was to capture a possible re-transformation into Chat Blanc or just because anything Agreste meant public interest, and therefore guaranteed sales of the photos, Marinette was not going to even try to speculate.

She knew they were there and could easily ignore them.

All she wanted was to enjoy her outings with Adrien.

But their presence wasn’t what had her nervous, leg bouncing rapidly in a subconscious twitch.  This particular outing had a purpose, one that tied her insides into a knot.  From the corner of her eyes, Marinette could see Adrien smiling at her, and then he chuckled.

Blue eyes trained on him.  “What?”

“Well, either you’re very nervous right now, or Paris is having a long minor earthquake,” and his hand reached over to settle on her knee to still her leg.

She blinked, not having realized she had the twitch.  “Oh…  I… I guess I’m a little bit nervous.”

“A little bit?” he teased gently.

She hunched her shoulders.  “Okay, a lot.  It’s just… I don’t want to hurt her with this.”

“You won’t.”

“You keep saying that, but…”  Marinette played with the lid of her cup.  “You know I can’t help but worry.  She’s my friend.”

Adrien laid a hand on hers in comfort.  “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

She turned her hand over to let her fingers twine with his, finding reassurance in his grip.  The simple contact was often enough to quash her raging nerves.  She had a horrible sensation that this was going to be an exceedingly difficult conversation, but she was glad she wasn’t having it without her partner at her side.

She might have been his calming influence, but he was her rock as well.

“Marinette-chan!  Adrien-chan!” a voice called to them in greeting.

Looking up, the pair found Tsurugi Kagami heading towards them, a small, reserved smile on her face as she walked confidently through the light crowd on the sidewalk.  The hidden Heroes of Paris stood as she neared, greeting their friend warmly before indicating the last empty chair at the table.  Marinette heard another set of photos being taken by the not-quite hidden paparazzi.

Silently she wondered if Kagami knew they were there.

Knowing how observant the girl was, she probably did.

“I am happy to see you both, tomodachi,” she greeted, signalling to a server to order herself a drink.  Then, when the server left, “It has been far too long since we were last together.”

“There was a lot going on lately,” Adrien agreed.

“Hai, I heard about your akumatization in Chat Blanc from your class when they decided to hunt for you.  And Alya texted me with the news that it was not an akumatized Chat Noir, but you, Adrien-chan.  Are you well now?”

“Yes, and no.”  At her confused expression, waiting just long enough for the server to leave again after bringing her drink, “I am… not completely free of the akuma’s effects.  I have occasional set-backs.”

She looked genuinely concerned.  “How is that possible?  Ladybug’s cure is supposed to remove all of the akuma’s influence on a person.”

Marinette hesitated, formulating her words carefully.  “We found out… from Ladybug that, um, Hawk Moth was experimenting with a new kind of akuma, a white one instead of the usual dark ones.  We think…  No, actually, we know he had no idea what he was doing and screwed up.  Even after the Cure, this white akuma is still affecting Adrien.”

“I almost changed again,” Adrien continued.  “If it wasn’t for Marinette...  I get mad or frustrated or overwhelmed and I start to change into Chat Blanc.  I never changed completely, but I’ve come close.”

Kagami cocked her head curiously.  “Start to change?”

“My eyes will go feline or I’ll grow cat ears or claws.”  Adrien gripped Marinette’s hand again and gently kissed the back of her fingers.  “I’ve been keeping Marinette close.  She knows how to ground me.”

The fencer girl looked at both of them critically, noting the boy’s enamoured expression towards Marinette, and the baker girl’s nervous glances towards Kagami at the boy’s attention.  She began to smile ever so slowly, realization settling in.

“Ah, I understand,” and she took a slow sip from her tea.

There was amusement in her voice that confused Marinette.

“You… you’re not mad?” the baker girl asked her.

Kagami chuckled low.  “About what, Marinette-chan?”

Marinette blinked.

Oh!

She knew, but she was going to make her say it out loud.

She and Adrien had talked about it to each other when it was just them and the kwami.  They told each other that they loved each other every day, but never when anyone else was around. 

At least, not yet.

Did Kagami know this somehow?

It really shouldn’t have surprised her that this could be the case.

Alright, then.

“You’re not mad that Adrien and I are dating?”

And just like that, she felt the weight of this perceived secret just floating away.

“Not at all, Marinette-chan,” Kagami confirmed with a laugh in her voice.  “Adrien-chan and I actually decided a few weeks into our attempt at a relationship that, while we had much in common, we just did not feel… what is that term?  Ah, yes, the spark.  We both came to the conclusion that we were meant to be good friends, but it would most likely never progress further.  I cannot say that I was not disappointed, but it was a relief to know that we both saw that pushing ourselves into this relationship would not work.  At that point, I started actively hoping this meant he would start pursuing you.”

“Me?  Really?”  Her nose scrunched.  “Wait, a few weeks into your relationship?  You’ve been rooting for us to be together for months?”

“Hai.”

“But we were never…  I mean…  He didn’t…  He never…”  She looked to Adrien.  “Did you…?”

He smiled in that gentle and shy way that left her feeling like a pile of mush.  “It was always you, even when I didn’t know it.”

The blush came hard and fast over her cheeks, burying her face in her hands.

“Sumūzuna washa, Adrien-chan,” Kagami accused the model with a chuckle.  “But, to go back to the previous conversation, you said when you get mad or frustrated or overwhelmed that you start to change.”

He nodded slowly.  “It was small at first.  Father would change my schedule without telling me, I would try to focus on homework, but Nathalie would decide that the moment was perfect to go over my obligations for the next week…  Little things.  But the last incident almost got out of hand at my last photo shoot.”

“What happened?” she questioned as Marinette’s hands lowered from her face.

He scowled.  “Rossi,” he growled in distaste.

“Ah, usotsuki dokuhebi… the lying viper.”

“She lied to get on the set, and she tried to corner me to blackmail me into breaking up with Marinette.”

Marinette reached over to grip one of his hands firmly. 

Kagami pursed her lips at this news, frowning in thought.

“Legalities seem to mean very little to her,” she concluded.  “Mother learned about the protection order from your Father and she has informed me.  This makes Rossi a dangerous element if she is willing to risk so much merely for her social climb.”

“We think Alya might be planning something to finally expose her lies and nature,” Marinette voiced.  “For the last few weeks she’s been nose to screen of any computer she can get to doing some sort of research, but I keep seeing Lila’s name when I get a peek over her shoulder.”

“She will not tell you?”

Adrien laughed, but there was no real humour behind it.  “She thinks she’s protecting us, like we can’t fight back.”

“We haven’t really given her any reason to believe otherwise.”

“True,” he agreed with his partner reluctantly.  “And I haven’t really proven that I have a backbone in all this.”

“I blame your Father.”

This time there was mirth in his chuckle.  “Something else to add to your growing list of things to hate about him?”

“I’m going to start needing a binder soon.”

“I would like to see this list and compare it to my own,” Kagami quipped.  She reached over and took a hand each in her own, giving them a squeeze.  “Tomodachi, I have very few people I would call or consider friends in this city, so you are both very precious to me.  If I can be of any assistance: with avoiding stressors; or with seeking vengeance against the Rossi girl, onegai, let me know.”

“We’ll keep that in mind.”

*    *    *

Lila fought hard with her desire to skip or prance down the sidewalk towards the school.

She had a very productive weekend sending a near barrage of emails to every news and media outlet she had access to with her own special twist on the story of her being fired by Agreste Design.

It had been so easy to rope in those outlets.

And she was rather proud of her tale.

She was a poor teenager from a humble family, Daughter to a single Mother working hard at the Italian Embassy.

Agreste Design had approached her and convinced her to sign a contract without parental or legal advice, using her unique look in order to sell Agreste label designs.

The fashion mogul had used her to bolster interest in Adrien, making him desirable to young ladies by being less attainable.

Using her as a sex symbol to young men to make them want the clothing she helped sell, making them believe those items would attract girls like her to them.

And when the sale numbers dipped even slightly, as sales often did on a whim, she was tossed aside and her contract cancelled, again without parental or legal advice as to a recourse.

They had ruined her reputation with lies of her being nothing more than a social climber looking to build herself into something she wasn’t.

They claimed she was obsessed with fame and with having Adrien at her side.

She had to chuckle to herself.

How easy it had all been to frame all these truths into lies coming from the Agreste camp.

Getting a comment from the Agreste household to counter any of her claims was difficult at best, the Agrestes being more demonstrative than vocal.  This was something Lila had learned early in her research of that family and used to her advantage.

So until they put out a public statement, which would be unlikely at best in her opinion, she could spin any story she wanted with impunity and no one would have any other source but her to confirm them.

By mid-week, there would be a number of articles out framing her as a purely innocent victim.

From there, the Agreste fall would be assured, and her climb to fame would be locked in.

Now she just had to ensure her Mother didn’t know anything about these plans to risk ruining them.

She had to curse the lawyers at Agreste Design for having been so diligent with issuing the protection order.  A copy had been sent to the school and the school board, but also her home and the Italian Embassy.  And they had insisted on a signature on receipt and the person signing had to prove they were the targeted recipient.

That had been a wrinkle to the weekend… slightly.

She had been in her room when the package had been delivered to their apartment.  Lila vaguely remembered hearing the doorbell, but hadn’t thought more about it.  She certainly hadn’t thought it was a courier delivering the protection order.  In her mind, it was coming through regular mail.

So, when her Mother had appeared in the doorway to her room with those papers in hand and a look of angered shock on her face, Lila knew instantly that she had read those charges.

Lila had been proud of herself for how quickly she had come up with a very convincing story to her Mother to explain away the existence of these papers and the accusations against her.

She spun a tale about how her boyfriend, Adrien Agreste, was being coerced and blackmailed by family, employees of Agreste Design, and friends to break it off with her due to faltering sales numbers from their relationship. 

Not too different that what she had told the media.

What had differed was the story about her employment with Agreste Design.  Her Mother didn’t know about her pseudo contract that has been agreed upon between Lila and Gabriel Agreste.

She claimed that she had joined Adrien on some of his photo sessions and, the photographer liking her look, had insisted she pose with the boy for several pictures.  This, she told her Mother, was the employment that was being mentioned.  She hadn’t gotten paid for those pictures and it was a formality in this protection order to prevent her from ever being anywhere near another photo shoot. 

In actuality, she had gotten paid, handsomely as well due to her side job of spying on Adrien’s daily life away from home and work, but she wasn’t going to tell her Mother that she had falsified her name on a contract since Lila was a minor and couldn’t legally sign.

She also wasn’t about to tell her Mother she had gone to the photo shoot that weekend in an attempt to continue making her presence known in the fashion world.

It was in direct contradiction to the orders in the protection order and risked getting Lila charged or even arrested.

But so long as no one told her Mother the truth, Lila could continue doing everything she wanted without risk.

Her Mother was just so trusting and so stupid.

Daintily Rossi climbed the stairs to Francoise Dupont, entering the doors like some Queen entering her court.

Not far from the truth.

Nearly all the students, and even the teachers and staff, took her at her word, allowing her to rule without any of them noticing they were being used.

Well, except for Bustier’s class.

Since the issuance of the protection order against her, and her firing from Agreste Design, and the fact that these things had to be announced to the class to ensure the legal nuances – not to mention Chloé Bourgeois couldn’t keep her mouth shut the first day of the protection order – her ability to charm that class and the teacher had waned considerably.

The students from Bustier’s class that were in the courtyard glanced at her warily now, not offering any greetings as they continued conversations she was not being invited into.

Lila allowed herself a slight frown. 

This would not do.

To have a chance at influencing them back into her fold, she needed to know what they were talking about.  Without that, she had not control over them.

At least her influence still held strong amongst the lower classmen.

A few of those students from sixième and cinquième that she still held sway over raced up to her, smiling at her in a way that said they were anxiously awaiting the latest news from someone they believed was simply amazing and could do no wrong.

Rossi didn’t remember any of their names, but she didn’t need to.  These peons would worship her regardless, or at least until absolute proof was offered that Lila was a fake.

Something she would never allow to happen, easily in any case.

“Oh, hello, all of you!” she greeted the group, putting on her best expression of grateful glee.  “You’re all so kind to come say good morning!  My class seems to be buying into the lies Agreste Design has been spreading about me.  I’m sorry I didn’t upkeep my posts online, but it seems I’ve been locked out of the Ladyblog for some odd reason.”

Actually, Lila felt the reason wasn’t all that strange if Alya had learned something. 

She would have to investigate that.

“And I don’t know if I would have been able to post much to begin with,” she continued.  “I was called out to Geneva on Saturday morning to help iron out the details of my environmental initiatives to implement across Europe.  It took all weekend.”

The younger students cooed in awe, chattering speculations among themselves as to what and when news would break of her projects.  Lila took advantage of the moment to cast her gaze across the courtyard to see who of her class had arrived.

The oversized oaf and his plump girlfriend were conversing with the lanky goth girl and that impressionable and gullible little blonde.  Rossi grinned.  She was certain those four still believed her, for the most part.  Less so the Couffaine girl for some reason, no doubt something to do with her older Brother, but it didn’t matter so long as naïve Rose was still under her sway.  Juleka would go along with anything sweet Rose was interested in.

And Ivan was just a lumbering idiot who was so overly soft with his mouse of a girlfriend, Mylène.

The class jock and the skater girl were probably daring each other to do some stunt while the one who was supposed to be the class brain was trying to talk them out of it by spouting all those useless facts he kept stored in that socially inept mind of his.  How he could have possibly believed a napkin could have blinded him through his glasses was laughable at best.  He might have been book smart, but street smart he was not.  But her control over those three was tenuous these days.

The quiet cartoonist was huddled in a corner with that guy… girl?... whatever!  Their drawings and stories were cute, but so Ladybug centered it made Lila sick.  Gentle prodding was slowly convincing them to try a real-life story.  Her own life as a comic book, geeks everywhere fawning over her concocted life, it had a certain appeal to it.  They seemed open to the idea at first, but that interest seemed to be waning.  Nathaniel had been almost dismissive the last time she had suggested it.

What worried Lila the most was Alya and Nino standing with the Bourgeois girl and this one’s lackey.  They were showing each other things on their phones and tablets, making comments and perhaps even suggestions, none of which Lila could hear or see.  They were far too civil with each other than Rossi knew them to be. 

What were they discussing?

But nowhere did she see Dupain-Cheng or Adrien.

In her mind, she still had a chance to win the Agreste boy, but to do that she needed him to be present. 

She needed him to notice her, even in the most subtle of ways.

And if he started paying attention to her, willingly or not, it would break Dupain-Cheng.

“You know, I would really need to discuss a few things with my sweet Adrien, but I don’t see him here,” she lamented to the younger students, playing the card that these students still believed the tale that she was secretly dating the Agreste model and it was the corporate world trying to keep them apart.  “He’s usually one of the first ones here, so we can have a few quiet and quick moments together away from his Father’s spies.  I don’t suppose any of you would know where he is this morning?”

One of the boys seemed to shrink on himself slightly.  “Um, I saw his car drop him off at the bakery across the street earlier.”

She fought against the urge to narrow her eyes at this child. 

There was no mistaking which bakery this was and why Adrien was there, but these children were so naïve.

She put on her most innocently surprised face, forcing as much indignation into her voice.

“Oh?  But he’s on a very strict diet for his modelling career.  I don’t need it since I’m a natural at keeping my form.  But all those sweets and pastries are such a horrible source of carbs and empty calories.  Why ever would he go to a bakery and possibly ruin his physique and career?”

“Maybe he was getting something for his bodyguard?” one student suggested.  “You know, butter him up to allow him to sneak away to hang out with you?”

She resisted the urge to laugh at the gullibility of these students.

Such sweet, trusting innocence.

“What that the bodyguard was so easy to convince with a baked good,” she bemoaned.

“Even if it’s the city’s best?  The Dupain-Cheng bakery is the top of all of Paris.”

“I don’t know about it being the city’s best,” Lila scoffed.  “I mean, last time I was allowed in there I saw signs of rodents.”

“My Mom is actually a health inspector with the city,” one girl spoke up, and Lila felt a sense of annoyed anger stir in the pit of her stomach.  “She says all food establishments are inspected every month.  I asked her about the Dupain-Cheng bakery last time you told us about seeing rats, but she said they always pass with flying colors.”

“Maybe they bribe the inspector?” another student asked.

“You can’t bribe my Mom and she did the inspection from February to September this year.”

Rossi resisting disparaging the work of the inspector, knowing that insulting this one’s Mother would start to push the last of her entourage away. 

She couldn’t risk that. 

She needed accolades, she needed followers.

“All that aside,” another girl began.  “Why would a model on a strict diet be doing in a bakery?”

“I mean, we could always ask him,” another suggested.  “There he is now,” and the boy indicated the school’s main entrance.

Sure enough, the blond model was just entering the school, hand-in-hand with Dupain-Cheng, both laughing about something. 

Rossi wanted to scream.

Of course, Dupain-Cheng would flaunt her relationship with Adrien in Lila’s face.

Of course, she would ensure everyone saw that she and Adrien were happy together.

She was sure that this was what it was.  After all, this would have been something Lila would have done.

But Lila knew there had to be something that Dupain-Cheng was using on Adrien to keep this control on him.

There had to be!

No one just jumped into such a close relationship as they did without some sort of blackmail to force it.

What was it that Dupain-Cheng had on the boy?

And how could she learn it to use to her benefit?

Even more frustrating was the fact the protection order prevented her from publicly asking the pair, making it difficult for them to just walk away without answering if there was a crowd watching.  With it in place, if there was a crowd watching, she risked having someone in the know calling the authorities.

Bad enough she already had her first warning from the whole photo session debacle.  It hadn’t reached her Mother so that was a plus.

Luckily, these lower classmen would do her work for her, and without prompting.

“What’s he doing with Marinette?” one girl asked.

“Looks like he’s holding her hand,” another responded plainly.

“I know that!  But why?  He’s Lila’s boyfriend, right?”

One of the larger lower classmen, possibly a relation to Ivan Bruel from his comparable size, squared his shoulders as he came to a decision.

“You know what?  I’m going to get to the bottom of this once and for all.”

Lila smiled evilly, making sure none of her entourage saw.

This would be so good to watch.

*    *    *

“I really can’t thank your Mother enough for offering to help me with guided meditations,” Adrien praised as the walked up to the school.  “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

Marinette smiled at him gently, giving his hand a squeeze.  “I think I have an idea of how much.  Plagg told me you tried meditating on your own in the past.”

“And failed each time,” he admitted.

“Only because learning it off the internet is nothing like having someone with experience walking you through it.  Mama has been meditating since she was a little girl, with her own Mom.”

“It should help keep me from having an incident until either Father or Master Fu find a solution.”

“If anything, it’ll be a good excuse to keep you away from that house.”

He returned the smile as they climbed the school’s steps.  “Always a good thing.”

“You know you could have come talk to me.  Either side of me.”

He shrugged a little sadly.  “I didn’t know I was allowed.  Father used to always tell me it that to show any kind of emotion was a sign of weakness, and weakness was unbecoming of an Agreste.”

Marinette snorted.  “Says the terrorist using other people’s emotions for his own means.”

“Hypocritical, I know.”

“And he is not a topic worth talking about.  I wish I had known what my Kitty was telling Ladybug me was what Adrien was going through, I would’ve…” 

“Would’ve what?”

“I don’t know, but I would’ve found something to try to fix it.”  She bit her bottom lip in momentary debate, her steps slowing just slightly.  “I’ve been giving your suggestion some serious thought.”

“I have a lot of good suggestions, you’ll have to narrow it down a little,” he grinned impishly.

She chuckled lightly.  “The one about going on a vacation.”

He blinked, his expression melting into surprise.  “Oh?”

“Yeah.  You were right that we really need one.  And while Hawk Moth’s wings are effectively clipped…”  She sighed.  “I can’t remember the last time I went on an actual vacation.”

“Neither can I.  There are pictures though, with Mom, of being… somewhere.”

She saw the distant look in his eyes as he searched his memories of that one moment in his past, barely noticing as they entered the school’s courtyard.  It was sad to think that this was such a distant memory of happier times with his Mother that it was difficult for him to remember it.

Marinette squared her shoulders, a determined look settling on her face.  “Well, that settles it.  If neither of can remember our last vacation, we really need one.”

He smiled at her tenderly, all adoration in his eyes.  “A real vacation?”

“A real vacation, anywhere you want to go for however long we want.  Just us.”

“Just us?  You and me?”

“Well, with our kawmi, of course.  But, yes.”

“Anywhere in the world?”

“Absolutely anywhere.”

He dropped her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders, tugging her close to his side and burying his face in her hair.  “Have I told you how much I love you?”

A pleasant thrill skittered over her skin.  “Since arriving at the house this morning, about seven times now.”

“Good, I would hate to think I wasn’t being a good boyfriend.”

She chuckled.  “You are a good boyfriend,” she confirmed, feeling enjoyably warm all over, her cheeks pinking.  “The absolute best.”

An imposing form in front of them caused them to stop, half expecting a wall or column has appeared in their path.  Both looked up at the scowling face of someone with familiar features to one of their classmates.

“You know, I kept hearing stories about models being players and womanizers,” the large boy ground.  “To hear Lila talk, I thought you were different.  But you’re a two-timer just like the rest of them.”

The hidden heroes blinked at the accusation.

“Anton, what--?” Marinette began.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you, bitch!” Anton snapped, shoving her away.

Suddenly he was twisted away from the pair and bent over facing the ground, his arm bent at a painful angle behind his back from Adrien’s grasp.  No one had even seen the model move.  His green eyes were almost feline as he glowered at the squirming boy he restrained.

“No one insults Marinette,” he ground low and menacingly.  “And if you so much as look at her wrong ever again, your arm is mine,” and he gave the arm an extra twist for good measure.

Ivan appeared before the group to add his disapproving stare at the restrained boy.  He then offered a friendly and slightly conspiratory smile at Adrien.

“You can let him go, I got this.”

Adrien hesitated for a heartbeat, unsure if they would gang up on him or if Ivan had a plan, and then released Anton, giving Ivan the benefit of the doubt.  Anton turned on the larger boy with a daring glare, rubbing feeling back into his twisted shoulder.

“You try anything, and I’ll just tell Dad,” he dared his older Brother.  “You don’t scare me.”

Ivan huffed.  “Me?  I’m not the one you should be worried about right now.”

A tiny hand abruptly snagged Anton’s ear and gave a harsh twist, forcing him to lean down at a very awkward angle or risk having his ear ripped off by Mylène.  Fury was in her eyes as she glared at the younger boy.

“Let’s go have a conversation about respecting ladies and not accusing people without the full story, shall we?” 

It wasn’t really a question, more like a command, and her tone let him know that this was not up for discussion.  Anton would have to have this conversation with the stocky girl pinching his ear whether he wanted to or not.  Mylène gave his ear an extra twist for good measure, forcing Anton to follow her every move as she turned away from her friends and walked the younger boy away towards a corner of the courtyard.

“Anton is terrified of Mylène ever since he inadvertently insulted her and she chewed him out for him, all in front of Dad who just let her,” Ivan smirked as he watched his little Brother squirming under what looked like a strict scolding from Mylène, her grip still firm on this one’s ear.  “Dad was just smiling all the way through it.  I think he’s just proud I found a girl who can stand up for herself.”

The Bruel boy turned to his classmates, his expression dropping to one of concern.  Adrien had closed his eyes, face tipped down slightly, as he took deep and calming breaths.  Marinette’s hand was firmly nestled in his hand, her free hand sliding along the length of his arm in a soothing motion.

“You okay, Adrien?” Ivan questioned carefully.

The model’s eyes opened slowly, blinking at something unseen for moment, before nodding up to the gentle giant.

“I’m okay, Ivan, thanks.”

“What was Anton’s problem with you two?”

Marinette shot a quick glance to a group of younger students clamouring around Lila off to the side of the courtyard, all except the Rossi girl seeming shocked and surprised at the turn of events.

“I have an idea,” the baker girl stated.  “The viper queen is holding court.”

A slight scowl knitted Ivan’s brows in understanding.  “She still has a bunch of the younger classes wrapped around her finger.  Dad told Anton he doesn’t want to hear anything Rossi claims to have done until he meets her parents himself to confirm everything.  Besides, what Anton was telling us contradicted a lot of the stuff she told our class in the past, so it wasn’t hard to see what she was doing.”

“But you never said anything.”

“I saw how she twisted her stories to suit whatever you used to counter her.  Mylène also told me about all the times she tried to make you out to be the bully.  I know you’re not a bully.  You wouldn’t do everything you do for all of us if you were a bully like Rossi claims you are.”  His expression dropped.  “I’m sorry none of us stood up for you.  I knew, and I didn’t do or say anything.  And I have to think the others knew too, deep down, on some level.”

Marinette smiled at him gently.  “She’s good at making people feel guilty for questioning her.”

“Well, for me, and for Mylène, I want to apologize for just standing by.”

“That means a lot, Ivan, thank you.”

“And Adrien, I’m sorry I was more willing to take Rossi’s claims over your word.  I know you more than her, you’re a bandmate, and you’re like Marinette: always willing to put the rest of us first.  I should have known better than to believe her over you.”

“Maybe you should have,” Adrien began.  “But it’s like Marinette said, Rossi is good at saying just the right things to make you doubt yourself.  I’m just glad our friends are finally seeing the truth.  The real truth.”

He started to fidget for a moment.  “Hey, um… I didn’t want to say anything so Mylène wouldn’t freak out, but… um… Your eyes changed when you were holding Anton’s arm.”

Adrien sighed.  “They looked like cat’s eyes.”

“Yeah… so, this isn’t a surprise?”

“Hawk Moth’s akuma was different this time around,” Marinette informed.  “Adrien is still going through side effects.  So long as he stays calm, everything is fine…”

“But rile him up,” Ivan completed, realization clear in his mind.  “You know you’re taking a risk coming to school then.  Rossi finds out how to trigger you, she will do everything possible to get you to change to make herself a victim.  She’s been out to discredit you, your Dad, the company ever since she told all of us about her firing and the protection order.”

Adrien huffed, a displeased and annoyed expression settling on his face.  “Of course she would try to use this to her advantage.”

“Easy, Kitty,” Marinette soothed.

He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.

She was right, he couldn’t allow himself to get overly irritated by something Lila would patently fail at anyway, it was just a matter of time.

“You say the word and the class has your back, Adrien,” Ivan stated softly, knowing to keep his tone even and low to promote calm.  “Anyone tries anything and we’ll take care of it.”

Adrien offered a smile in gratitude to which Ivan nodded in return before moving to where his little brother was sinking into the ground under the tongue lashing offered by Mylène whose anger had not seemed to have abated.  The model had to chuckle at the sight of these two teens towering over the girl, yet Ivan was smiling proudly and amused, while Anton looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there.

“She acts all timid, but she is fierce when she wants to be,” he marveled.

“It’s usually the quiet ones you have to worry about,” Marinette agreed.  She peered into Adrien’s face, carefully scrutinizing his features.  “You’re sure you’re okay with coming to school after this weekend?  I mean, no one would dare say anything if you decided to call in a sick day or two.”

“I’m fine, My Lady,” he smiled at her.  “Besides, being home would mean being away from you,” he near cooed as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders again to tug her close to his side.

She smirked at him and, in that moment, he saw as much Ladybug at his side as Marinette. 

How could he have been so blind for so long?

“Needy kitty,” she accused.

A heavy weight abruptly settled itself on Adrien’s shoulders as Nino bonelessly draped himself on his friend’s shoulders.

“Alya wants to know what Ivan said so she can beat a holy terror into him,” the DJ voiced.

Adrien chuckled.  “You can tell Alya everything is good.  Ivan was just throwing his and Mylène’s support into our camp.”

“Awesome, Dude.”

“So,” Marinette began.  “Has Alya buried the hatchet with Chloé or is this an enemy of my enemy type of deal?” and she hooked her chin to where the two mentioned girls had their heads together over Alya’s phone.

“A little from column A and a little from column B.  Chloé’s hated Rossi from day one for stealing her spotlight, and Alya’s out for blood for making her doubt her friends and for coming close to ruining the Ladyblog’s reputation.  You two have become their joint project.”

Adrien blinked.  “I don’t know whether to be afraid or…  No, never mind, I am afraid.”

Marinette nodded, eyes wide in worry.  “Agreed.  Those two teaming up for anything is dangerous at best.”

“Apocalyptic,” Adrien added.

“Chillax, my Dudes.  I got them to promise not to do anything illegal or physically or bodily damaging.  Got it in writing, too.  Really wish I could tell you, but they both don’t want Rossi to get any wind of what they’re planning and coming up with a counterattack.  I know a bit, but even I’m confused about some aspects of it.”

“So, we act as if everything is status quo and hope we get enough advance warning to duck?” Adrien questioned.

“Wish I had more to give you, Bro.”

“No, this is actually a lot.  Marinette and I had an idea that Alya was working on something for a while now.  Knowing that she roped in Chloé on whatever this is, you know it’ll be huge.  Even without details, this helps.”

“Rumour has it that Rossi is defying the protection order, though.  So, I’ve been charged with escorting, and I quote, the precious cream puff babies to class, end quote.”

The hidden heroes groaned half-heartedly, touched that so many were willing to back them up now, but at the same time miffed that no one believed they could actually defend themselves if need be.  What that mitigating the risk of running into Lila and having her attempt one of her many tricks was welcome.

And try she did.

As they moved towards the stairs to the second floor, Lila began to almost wail plaintively, moaning about being thrown away without explanation and being forbidden to learn anything because of the protection order.

But if any of the lower classmen tried to intervene on her behalf, Adrien and Marinette’s classmates would make it a point to suddenly come between their friends and those students.  Often all it took was a frown to ward the younger students off, but sometimes it took a stern verbal warning to convince them to leave.

It warmed the hidden heroes’ hearts to know their friends had realized the truth and were no longer accusing them of whatever Lila claimed was their issue with her.

But if anyone caught sight of Lila without one of her fake masks during the day, one could have seen how progressively irate she was becoming with her lacking ability to get a rise out of the pair or any of their other classmates.  No matter what she tried to spin, no one listened to her, or Alix would take the lead and flat out tell her to shut up.

Marinette felt a slight amount of guilt at the shocked look on Lila’s face each time Alix yelled at her, but only a slight amount.

Adrien chuckled at his girlfriend and partner as they took their seats in their last class of the day.  “You look utterly too satisfied,” he accused gently.

“Well, vindication is such a satisfying feeling.”  She sunk slightly.  “Does that make me petty?”

“No, My Lady, like you said, that makes you vindicated.”  He gripped her hand tenderly.  “You don’t have a petty bone in your body.”

She pouted.  “I can so be petty.”

He chuckled, bringing her hand up to his face.  “Nope, you’re just too good,” and he kissed the backs of her fingers.

“Ugh!” Chloe scoffed from the desk across the aisle from them.  “You two ooze more sap than a Canadian maple tree.”

“You’re just jealous,” Nino accused from his spot behind the pair.

Chloé huffed.  “I am all for sap, but that much is enough to drown in.”

Alya swooned against Nino’s shoulder.  “Ah, to drown in romantic sappiness…”

Nino chuckled.  “Babe, I am plenty sappy, but my Bro just happens to be a king and master of sap.  I can’t compete.”

“You can’t beat out years of watching those god-awful romance anime and Disney movies he’s watched before being allowed to come to school,” the Mayor’s Daughter smirked.

Adrien frowned, unable to stop his smile though.  “I feel attacked.”

“It’s not an attack when it’s the truth, Adri-kins,” she replied, mirth in her voice.  “Different topic:  Are you being forced to go to the Winter Gala again this year?”

He sighed heavily.  “Yes.  Before my akumatization, Father was pushing very hard for me to attend with Rossi.”

“I certainly hope he’s not expecting that to happen now,” she demanded, enraged at the thought of Lila Rossi going to one of Paris’s most prestigious galas on Adrien’s arm. 

She shot a glare to the back of the class where Lila was doing her best to look like a dejected outcast, but no one was paying enough attention to her to make it effective.  Besides, Chloé knew for a fact Rossi was probably listening to their conversation and was scheming.

“No, there’s no chance of that ever happening… ever.  He agreed to replace her name with Marinette’s on every event I have to attend.”

“Oh, fabulous!  Tell me, Marinette, do you have a dress yet?”

Marinette shrunk on herself, expecting the blonde to blow up at her at her answer.  “Well, I do have something I designed and finished not too long ago.”

“Oo, a Marinette Dupain-Cheng original,” Chloé cooed in interest with a clap of her hands, surprising the group of friends.  “Do you have a picture of it on you?  Or the sketch?”

Marinette pulled out her phone, quickly scrolling through her gallery, ears buzzing in slight shock at the fact that Chloé Bourgeois was showing a definite and genuine positive interest in something she had designed.  She wasn’t disparaging it or her skill in any way.

Part of Marinette was sure Hell had frozen over.

She turned her phone towards the blonde, seeing Sabrina peer over her shoulder to see the picture as well.

“Oh, Marinette, that’s gorgeous!” the timid redhead gushed.

“Mm, yes, this will do nicely for the Winter Gala,” Chloé agreed, her tone reminding Marinette of this one’s Mother, Audrey Bourgeois.

“I will need accessories though,” the baker’s girl admitted.

“That, I can arrange.  And if we can’t find anything in a store, we’ll just go back to my place and raid my accessories.  Guarantee we’ll find something fabulous in my things to make this outfit complete.  Something sparkly, a necessary clutch, I would think maybe a two-inch heel would work nicely for this dress.”

Marinette blinked in surprise at her enthusiasm.

Chloé was willing to help her and actually seemed like she was looking forward to it.

Yes, Hell must have frozen over.

*    *    *

No one paid any attention to the back of the class, to where Lila was quietly fuming, getting progressively frustrated and furious. 

She could hear everyone’s conversations, their pathetic little lives they were sharing with their classmates.  Nothing that she could really use for her own gain, just ridiculous little likes or dislikes from things experienced or heard over the weekend.

If these sheep still believed her, she could have inserted herself into those conversations, turned them into some story about how anything they said directly related to her.  But they had quietly become wise somehow.  None of her tales seemed to impress or captivate them anymore.

She only received wary expressions when she tried to tell them something she thought they wanted to hear.

So she listened instead.

Listened to their tiny little lives.

Listened to their plans for the week or further into the future.

Listened for anything she could use to put herself back on the top.

Something to make Gabriel Agreste cancel the protection orders and get her back on his companies payroll.  She had become used to the lifestyle his payments allowed her to have, the access to designer clothing and the latest and greatest technology.

But now the money was dwindling.  Lila growled at the fact she had to take a hard look at what was left and her weekly allowance from her Mother just to be able to ration her funds. 

Someone like her shouldn’t have to budget.

Someone like her should have had the world cater to her, shower her with money and fame.

So when she overheard Adrien mention the Winter Gala and how she would have originally been on his arm for the event, she wanted to scream.  Before the whole Chat Blanc incident, Gabriel would have forced Adrien to take her, regardless of anything the teen tried to claim in protest.

To hear that her name was now being replaced by Dupain-Cheng’s twisted the knife just a little bit more.

All Dupain-Cheng had could have been hers.

It should be hers.

Aside from current situations, there was no reason it couldn’t still be hers.

Enough time hadn’t passed yet to make the protection order common knowledge throughout the fashion world.  Unless they had direct business dealings with Agreste Design, there was no reason for that information to have been shared.

But it was common knowledge that Lila had dealings with Agreste Design.  The whole segment on Alec Cataldi’s show promoting her to the world had ensured that.

That had been Lila’s stroke of genius, sending his show the media spot.

She would need to craft a carefully believable story to allow her into the Winter Gala, but she would get in.  There was no way she would allow that opportunity to slip by.  And if the media covering the event asked about her firing, she could weave a tale about Gabriel changing his mind and calling her back.

There would be no way for them to verify until the fashion house opened for business again the following day.  So she could have at least one night, and possibly a weekend, to revel in the media spotlight.

And if on the following business day everything fell apart, she could use it to continue her attacks on Agreste Design as being a ruthless and heartless corporation who never cared about the health and welfare of its employees, past or present.

All of this would be infinitely easier if Hawk Moth hadn’t suddenly developed a conscience.

Just like Gabriel Agreste, the villain had abandoned her to her own devices.  True, this was how she had operated for a good many years before him, but Hawk Moth had made things easier and so much more interesting.

If all else failed, Lila still had one final card she could play that could potentially destroy the Agrestes, harm Dupain-Cheng either physically or emotionally, and prove to Hawk Moth that she was still a force to be reckoned with and he should come out of hiding.

Causing Adrien to change, as he almost had during his last photo shoot.

But this time she would make sure he would take her as his hostage and not Dupain-Cheng.  She had to have learned something about him during his initial akumatization that she was using to force him into this relationship with her.  Lila would repeat the kidnapping, keep him in that form for the same amount of time as Dupain-Cheng had, and would learn what that secret was.

Lila would cause the disruptions, make him frustrated and lose whatever control he had on this Hyde side of his.  That way he wouldn’t target her with his anger, but she was convinced his animal side would choose her over Dupain-Cheng if she made sure to stay in his line of sight.

Rossi heard Bourgeois talking about accessories to go with whatever dress Dupain-Cheng had created.

How in the Hell that girl was capable of churning out design after design in so little time was a complete mystery, and every last one had people swooning when she posted them on her online store.

Lila had her own store as well, but it didn’t bring in even half the attention Dupain-Cheng got.

She swallowed a growl.

She would have to dip into her carefully rationed finances to get a dress to top anything Dupain-Cheng had dreamed up.

Something daring.

Something sexy.

Something to ensure every pair of eyes would be glued to her for the entire evening.

First part of her plan:  The dress.  She could go after school, her Mother had texted her to say she was working late.

Second:  Find out when and where the Winter Gala was being held.  A quick internet search would reveal that.

Third:  Find a way into the event.  She could try calling as if she were an assistant from Agreste Design, get herself added to the attendance list.  Failing that, turning on the waterworks at one of the door attendants could make they uncomfortable enough to just get herself ushered in.

Those three points would actually be the hardest part.  The rest wouldn’t need much planning, just her silver tongue and her ability to charm.

Her eyes fixed the back of Adrien’s head as class began, a slow smile creeping over her lips.

Rossi would charm.

She would schmooze.

She would win her status back and destroy all who took it from her.

After all, she always won in the end.  It was the long game.

And Adrien was one of the prizes to the game.

Everything else was just a bonus.

The class would beg her forgiveness.

Alya would beg to become her best friend.

Dupain-Cheng would be crushed.

Once all that was assured, Lila could turn her attention to destroying Ladybug, the other prize to her long game.

Rossi forced the chuckle down.

Everyone thought her defeated, but she was never one to accept defeat.  She could twist it into whatever she needed.  This situation was no different.

She would have her victory.

It was just a matter of time.

Chapter Text

A loud and happy crow filled the late-night air, resonating over the night-time quiet of Paris.

Anyone walking the streets at this time of night and heard the call paid it no mind, knowing who it was.  To them, the fact it sounded happy, was a good sign.

One of the Heroes of Paris was in a good mood.

Always a good thing.

Leaping from rooftop to rooftop, laughing joyfully, Chat Noir raced above the city as His Lady chased after him, more reserved but also laughing.

This was one of their games, the chase.

It had been so long since they had just played tag across the rooftops, where they didn’t have to worry about Hawk Moth or next day obligations that this chase would make them too tired to attend.  It was a school holiday in the morning.  No classes, no early morning, sleeping in was almost expected.

This game was a welcome celebration of a day of rest after so much.

And it helped Adrien decompress of all the stresses lately.  As Chat Noir, he could race and shout and just act as goofy and crazy as he wanted at this time of night without being reprimanded by his Father or Nathalie.  His Lady would watch out for his safety, warning him if he got too reckless, but she would let him act any way he wanted because she knew now just how much he needed nights like this.

Chat Noir ran up to the edge of the roof, standing on the low bordering wall for a moment as he breathed in deep of the cool evening air.

It was a gorgeous night, the sky clear of any clouds.  The city’s lights drowned out the majority of the stars, but a few of the brightest ones did manage to stay visible, even with the bright sliver light of the Moon.

He looked over his shoulder at Ladybug a few rooftops over, drawing closer to where he was.  He smiled impishly, dashing off to the side behind a roof access.

Ladybug landed on the roof, running up to the structure, fully expecting to see him hiding around the corner.

But he wasn’t there.

Confused at his sudden disappearance, Ladybug pulled back from the corner, intent on turning to survey the roof.  A pair of arms wrapped around her from behind, lifting her off her feet with a laugh she would always recognize.  She shrieked her own laugh in response as he spun her around, pressing his face against the back of her neck.  Keeping her tight in his arms, Chat Noir leaned back on the roof access wall.  A happy smile was plastered on his face.

Ladybug could feel the good humour simply radiating all around him and tipped her head back to be able to see him.

And then she felt the purr.

She smirked, a small chuckle in her throat.  “I thought you didn’t like purring.”

“I don’t like purr-rr-ing in public, but I will purr-rr forr-rr you,” he admitted through the soft rumbling in his chest.

“I’m honoured.”

Chat Noir let his head fall back, green eyes glowing up to the night sky, to the brightest object hanging in the ultraviolet.

“Look at that moon,” he marvelled.

Ladybug looked up.  Rising just to the right of the Eiffel Tower’s peak, the great yellow white aster illuminated the night. 

For a brief second, a flash of a memory invaded her mind’s eye. 

It was the moon, cracked in half, a gigantic crater bisected by this fissure.  Paris was flooded, the Eiffel Tower was on its side.

And a sad melody wafted on the air as blue eyes stared at her in betrayal and longing.

She shuddered despite her best effort not to.

“Are you cold, My Lady?” Chat Noir questioned in concern.

Her shoulders stiffened.  “No, I…”

Blue eyes closed and she heaved a sigh, the tension that had started to build deflating, her own words echoing in her mind.

No secrets.

Ladybug took hold of his hands and untangled his arms from around her form, turning to face him, her expression serious.

“There’s something I really need to tell you.”

He blinked.  “That sounds ominous.”

She squeezed his hands in reassurance.  “No, no!  It’s not… at least I think it’s not… no, it’s not…  It… it’s something from earlier this year.” 

Ladybug tugged at him to follow her down to the roof, sitting against the roof access structure.  His thumbs smoothed over her knuckles as he waited for her to collect her thoughts.

“Do… do you remember when Bunnix needed my help for a mission?”

“Yeah… I was a little insulted that she only needed your help and not mine.”

“There was a reason for that.”

“When did you go?”

“Not when.  Same time, just… just an alternate timeline.”

“Alternate timeline?  You mean like if you turned left instead of right, you end up creating a timeline for both the left and the right?”

She frowned ever so slightly at him.  “Tell me this isn’t your love of physics that explains how you know this.”

He chuckled.  “Not completely.  Remember that I had so much free time to watch all sorts of shows and movies before I started at Francoise Dupont.”

“Oh… right…  So, yeah, Bunnix took me to an alternate timeline.  One where a lot of things make sense now that I know a few things.  From what I can tell, it all started with the beret I made you.”

He smiled softly.  “I suspected it was you and not some Brazilian fans like you claimed.”

She returned the smile, hers tinged with sadness.  “I wanted to tell you, but Bunnix told me I couldn’t, that it was dangerous.  And seeing that other timeline, I understood how.”

“What happened?”

She hesitated, looking down at their joined hands.  “I… I don’t have all the details.  Somehow, the other you found out who I was behind the mask, and… and Hawk Moth found out who was behind Chat Noir’s mask.”

Chat Noir’s mouth formed a silent oh, his eyes widening as the dread set in from the realization of what could happen if ever his Father found out he was half or the team the man sought to defeat at every turn.

“I… I can only assume he found a way to antagonize the other you, to the level of a few weeks ago in our timeline.  But instead of turning Adrien into Chat Blanc, he turned Chat Noir into Chat Blanc.  I know the other you fought him.”

“Always!” he assured, squeezing her hands.  “No matter what, I could never hurt you, no matter which alternate universe I exist in.”

Again, she hesitated, curling her shoulders and finding it hard to look at him.  “Not… intentionally.”

Chat Noir gaped in horror.  “What… what did I… he… do?”

Her eyes fixed their hands, unable to look at him and see his expressions when she would tell him.  Exhaling softly, she tugged his hands closer.

“I know the other you didn’t mean to,” she began, her voice very soft.  “I know he tried… he said as much, that he never meant to…”

He freed one of his hands to curl a finger under chin and get her to look at him.  “My Lady… what did the other me do?”

“When… when Bunnix dropped me off… all I saw was Paris completely flooded over, to the tenth floor of most of the buildings.”

“Flooded?”

“You… he destroyed the moon… split it in half.  There was a huge crater at the impact site.”

“I… he did?”

She nodded.  “The battle with Hawk Moth happened at the base of the Eiffel Tower.  It was knocked over on its side.  And I found the other you alone, sitting on top of the TVi building, singing to himself.”

“Alone?  Where was the other Ladybug?”

She paused again.  “I found her… standing with Hawk Moth… at the base of the Eiffel Tower.”

The wheels turning in his head were almost visible through his eyes.  “But you said that Paris was flooded.”

Ladybug nodded.  “They were both underwater… both turned into ash statues.”

Chat Noir suddenly felt as if he couldn’t breathe, feeling his muscles turn to jelly.  Part of him knew that it wasn’t him, that it was a version of him from another timeline.  But he couldn’t help but feel the abject pain at this knowledge.  His other self had, unintentionally, killed not only his Father, but also his Ladybug.  If that had happened to him, he was sure it would have driven him completely mad.

To lose Ladybug by his hand…

To lose Marinette…

The pain squeezing his heart caused him to gasp.

And then came a flash of anger towards Bunnix.  “Why did Bunnix let you see that?” he demanded.

“I guess… because she knew I would fix it… with the Miraculous Cure.  The other you didn’t make finding the akuma particularly easy,” and she reached over to drag a finger over the bell at his throat.  “I have to hope that when I cast the cure that everything went back to normal for him, that she came back to him and they stopped Hawk Moth.”

“You didn’t stay to see it?”

She shook her head sadly.  “Bunnix made me cast the cure from her, uh, time burrow?  I didn’t see anything.  I think it’s because I didn’t know who was behind your mask at the time and she needed to keep it that way just a little longer.”

“Do you think this is what Master Fu warned us about to keep our identities a secret?  That if Hawk Moth found out who one or both of us are, that alternate timeline could happen?”

“After seeing it, I would hope not.  But since we know who Hawk Moth is, all the more reason that he should never know.”

“Agreed.”  He watched for a moment as she rubbed her thumbs over his hands, a deep sadness settling over her features from the memory.  “You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”

Ladybug winced.  “I was afraid if I told you, you would either double your efforts to find out who I was to find a way to stop any of it from happening, or it might scare you enough to give up your ring.”

“I probably would have tried harder to find out your identity, but I would never give up my ring, even knowing that.  It’s you and me, My Lady.”

“Against the world,” she smiled softly.

“Always,” and he brought her hands to his lips, reverently kissing the backs of each one of her fingers.

She looked at him tenderly, smiling.  “I know Tikki says I shouldn’t, but I have to think that since Bunnix hasn’t shown up in our timeline to stop us from knowing who’s behind the mask, the time must be right.  We must be right.”

“Is that why you were so nervous all the time a few weeks ago?  You were watching for her?”

“I was.”  She chuckled morosely.  “Terrible, isn’t it?  I am such a spaz.”

“Maybe,” he smirked tenderly.  “Luckily, you’re cute when you’re neurotic.”

She pouted as if insulted, but her amusement twinkled in her eyes.

“So, was akumatized me from this timeline anything like the other Chat Blanc?”

“Chat!”

“What?  I’m a cat and I’m curious.  Indulge me?”

She huffed a breath.  “I guess…  You had your similarities, but you were also different.  Both of you were all white, but the other you was more of a white Chat Noir whereas you were more… furry.”

“Furry?”

“Instead of leather, your suit felt like it had like a thin velvet coating to it.  You had difficulty speaking too, Plagg had to translate your growls.  And you were more like a real cat, more feral.  The you in the other timeline was just… well… I think he went insane.”

“I can see that.  Placed in the same situation, knowing that I was responsible for… for what happened to you, I know I would have lost it too.”

She noticed how he had avoided using the word killed, but made no mention of it to him. 

“And your eyes were different,” she opted to continue.  She tipped his chin up to get a good look at the vibrant green of his feline eyes.  “I’m so used to seeing green eyes.  The other you had blue eyes and they were so cold and sad.  And akumatized you had magenta eyes.”  She smirked.  “I do prefer the green.  But those two versions of Chat Blanc were so different from each other.  Alternate timeline Chat Blanc, like I said, was insane.  You as Chat Blanc was just very protective.”

“Yet we were both caused by the same person.”

“He knows your negative triggers.  He created them after all.”

“I keep thinking he never really wanted a child,” he sighed, leaning his head back slight.  “He always demanded perfection.  Don’t laugh, don’t cry, stand there, wear that, stand up straight…  Give him a robot mannequin that looks like me and he’d probably be happier.”

“Well, I prefer the genuine article.  You’re a lot more huggable and warmer than some robot.”

“Ah, so you just keep me around because I’m cuddly,” he teased.

“Cuddly, kind, and the best partner I would ever want.”

“Even with all my issues?”

“We all have issues, Kitty.  You said it yourself, I’m neurotic.  I know that.  You?  You’re damaged.  But together, we’re unstoppable, regardless of all of that.”

He smiled down at their joined hands.  “That we are.”

“Never forget that.  And never forget that I love you, no matter what.”

Chat Noir favoured her with a goofy and tender smile.  “I will never tire of hearing you say that.”

“Good thing I’ll never get tired of saying it then.”

He began to chuckle slightly, carefully using a claw to move a lock of hair away from her eyes.  “We have so much time to make up for.”

“And all the time in the world to do that,” she giggled.  “Meanwhile…”  She rolled up to her knees and lightly tapped his chest.  “Tag!  You’re it!” and she bolted off, slinging out her yo-yo to swing to the next roof.

“Hey!” he laughed, dashing after her.

Once again, their laughter filled the late Paris night.

*    *    *

Gabriel Agreste growled uncharacteristically at the endless piles of papers and books littering every flat surface, and then some, of his office.

Some of the texts were in English, but infinitely more were in Wu, Min, Hakka, Gan and Xiang, many were in Tibetan and Sanskrit, a few were even in Hindi, Urdu, and Punjabi.  A small number of books were merely to translate some of these texts.

Some of the texts read almost like esoteric poetry, flowery and euphemistic in their descriptions.

Some read like technical manuals from a Swedish furniture store.

All were beyond confusing.

The source of a kwami’s power resides on the metaphysical plane tied to the Akashic Record and the eighth dimension making their quantic existence…

The Miraculous gems were formed from the great god’s hair mixed with the grand lady’s tears…

Magic is a fickle and dangerous power…

But a detailed explanation of how to counter the effects of a spell can be found in the Scrolls of Milarepa…

Reversal of magic is best described in the Scrolls of Atiśa…

If you have accidentally corrupted a spell, you may be able to use the works of Khön Könchok Gyelpo…

He recognized none of those names.

The Scrolls of Mahamudra.

The teachings of the Six Dharmas of Naropa.

The complete treatise of Marpa.

The tomes of Drogmi Shākya.

The works the Sakya Trizin.

The Sacred texts of the mahasiddha Virūpa.

The Tibetan translations of Sanskrit by King Songtsän Gampo.

Despite his best research and deepest digging into the annals of magic and the black market, he could find no available copy of these documents.

He needed these documents.

Each time he translated a passage in the Miraculous Book, it referred to one of these scrolls or ancient books.

Short of going to Tibet and finding the monasteries where the originals were kept, and somehow receiving permission to review them, he was lacking this information.

And he was not about to sign up for Buddhist teachings and the years they entailed just to eventually have access to these higher texts to maybe find the answers he was looking for.

He needed this information now.

His Son needed this information now.

The Miraculous Book wouldn’t mention these documents in order to reverse his experiments with the akuma if they weren’t important and necessary.  That book was rather straight forward, but relied on other books and scrolls to complete its own information.  No doubt a security feature the monks who originally wrote it put into play to ensure that the spells contained within wouldn’t work without intimate knowledge of the culture and beliefs.

Gabriel pushed one book away at the mention of another text, one he did have, and he began reading the passage in question.

This one looked promising.  So far it was being clear on what to do, what to use.  It hadn’t yet listed texts or documents he didn’t have.

… but this ritual is only contained in Devine Writings of the King Trisong Detsen…

Gabriel almost screamed, throwing all the books and papers off his desk in a flurry of papers and bound novels.  He sunk his face in his hands, so very tired by it all.

“Another dead end, Sir?” Nathalie questioned, entering from a side door to the office.

He inhaled deeply to settle his nerves.  “The Order of Guardians of the Miraculous were clever, hiding their rituals and knowledge across so many texts and scrolls that no one single person could amass them all in one lifetime.”  He raised his face from his hands to rest his chin on his fingers.  “One must join the order to access them all in one place.”

“Then it is futile?”

His fist connected with the desk’s surface.  “No!  No, I refuse to give up.  Even the best laid security systems have a flaw.  Even the strongest protections can be bested.  The answers are here.  I’m confident I can piece enough of it together to make the ritual work.”

She blinked in growing dread at those words: piece enough of it together.

He had said the same thing close to a month ago, back when he had started changing the nature and strength of the akuma.

And Nathalie was more than aware of how amazingly terrible that had gone.

“Are… are you sure that would be… wise, Sir?”

“Yes, yes, of course.  I have enough information here in order to fill in the missing parts.” 

He retrieved the Miraculous Book and turned to the pages about his own Miraculous, pulling out the pages of notes he had tucked there to ensure he could find them easily.

Nathalie really didn’t like the sounds of this.  This was a familiar conversation, almost identical to a month ago.

“Just like with the white akuma?  Sir?”

“No, this will be nothing of the sort,” he assured, pulling up what he had been able to bookmark online.

He laid out the books and paperwork on his desk, pulling out a fresh stack of blank sheets to start taking new notes, eyes flying from page to page to page.  He had a plan in mind, and he would make it work.  This was just like his plan to revive Emilie from her deep coma.  Gabriel knew what he had to do and put all his efforts and energy into that single-minded purpose.

It would work.

I had to work.

Nathalie watched him dig himself into his endeavour and chewed the inside of her cheek.  She turned and walked away, knowing she would be ignored and forgotten while he worked.

This was the white butterfly all over again.

Her employer had only a thin slice of how to perform the ritual, only had part of what would lead him to what he needed in the moment.

And just like the white butterfly, she just knew it would fail.

She had counselled against using Adrien at the time, knowing he had such a strength of will that Gabriel would never be able to control him like he wanted.

How Adrien had developed this backbone when she and his Father had done everything short of outright abuse to make him meek and compliant was a mystery.

But that didn’t matter now.

Without the full ritual for the white akuma, he had been able to fight the control Hawk Moth attempted to exert.  And now Hawk Moth was trapped in quite an air-tight agreement.  She too, even if the teen didn’t know she was Mayura.

Adrien had been very clever.

If Gabriel created just one akuma at any time, he would lose his Miraculous and Adrien would reveal him to the world as being Hawk Moth.  That would result in terrorist charges against the man.  And, seeing how much he had negatively affected the city for so long, those charges would be served consecutively.  Nathalie had kept count of the number of akuma Gabriel had created.  Seeing as a terrorism change in France carried a sentence of a minimum of thirty years, and it was guaranteed he would get that at the very least, Gabriel would serve a sentence well into the thousands of years.

So, no more akuma.

No amok.

No more plotting to get the Ladybug and Chat Noir Miraculous gems.

Nathalie had hoped he would sink himself back into fashion to distract himself from the fact he would never be able to wish his wife back.

This new ritual he was researching was as good a distraction, but could be as dangerous as the white akuma.

Maybe she could warn the children about this, keep them aware of the man’s progress in order to protect them somehow.

She sighed heavily with a shake of her head.

“This is not what I was hired on for,” she muttered.  “I am so demanding a raise.”

*    *    *

Master Fu took a slow and careful sip of his hot Jasmine tea, enjoying the light floral notes and pleasant astringent effect on his tongue.  Wise and aged eyes drifted over ancient languages inscribed on even more ancient scrolls and books, easily translating the squiggles and ink strokes as he went.

He paused on one passage written in Sanskrit, teacup lowering slightly.

“Wayzz, do I have the Second Scroll in the collected works of Mahamudra?”

The little green kwami floated quickly towards a hidden cabinet in the wall.  “Yes, Master.”  He scanned the scrolls, and then pulled one of the rolls free before flying back to the low table.  “Here you are, Master.”

“Ah, thank you,” and he unrolled the ancient parchment.  “I do believe we may be ahead of Hawk Moth in our research, this despite the fact that he knows exactly what he did to corrupt the akuma.”

“I agree, Master.  Without access to these documents, he may find his research blocked on many fronts.”

Fu paused, staring off at nothing as he considered his thoughts.  “Had I known Chat Noir’s Father was Hawk Moth…  Had I known all of this was even possible by any one grieving man…”

“But you couldn’t have known, Master.  Every person grieves differently so no one could have imagined he was desperate to this point.”

“But to use his own child to achieve his goals?  That has long crossed the line from grief to insanity.”

“You are planning something.”

“I do not know if it will be possible, though.  I cannot reveal myself for fear that Hawk Moth will try to hunt me down.  And with the resources we now know he has access to, he would be able to find me and take the other Miraculous to use against Ladybug and Chat Noir.”  He exhaled heavily.  “Ladybug is not yet ready to take my place at Guardian.”

“She will be an excellent Guardian, but I will be sad to lose you, Master.”

The old man smiled at the kwami.  “Thank you, Wayzz, but that is still a long way off.  We must stay focused on Chat Noir’s current problem… problems.”

“The issue with the akuma should not be hard to resolve.  I have asked Hiss if he would be willing to lend his own wisdom to the matter, should we get stuck.  He has agreed, having worked with the boy once before and willing to help him.”

“Excellent.”

“He said he was greatly impressed with his determination to find a solution to a problem that was not for him to fix.  Hiss said he used Second Chance twenty-five thousand nine hundred thirteen times.”

Fu hummed softly at that, mentally calculating how much time that would equate to.  Just shy of ninety days.  The boy’s resolve was one of the reasons he had been chosen to be Chat Noir, his insistence to never give up even in the face of impossible odds.  But what he to witness during those three months, failure after failure, it must have cracked him slightly.  Which explained how he had become susceptible to the akuma.

“I have amends to make to that poor boy,” Fu voiced.  “I excluded him.  He is Ladybug’s partner and, when she becomes Guardian, she will need him more than ever.”  He pinched the bridge of his nose with a small frustrated growl.  “I am making mistakes again.”

“You are only human, Master.”

With a sigh, Fu unrolled another scroll on the table, reading through the ritual it described in rather vivid details.  He began to frown at the words.  The translation was imperfect, more literal of the ancient texts instead of taking context into account.

… whiter than the first snow of the mountain, the Herald of the Maker of Champions…

Maker of Champions.

That had to be a reference to the wielder of the Butterfly Miraculous.

So, the herald had to be the akuma.

“Which Scroll is this?”

“The Gandhāran manuscripts, Master.”

“So, between the first and third century.  Well, now, seems Hawk Moth wasn’t so original in his plan to create and use a white akuma.  There’s mention here of a white herald to the Maker of Champions.”

“This would be the oldest reference you have found so far, Master.  And it mentions the white akuma.”

“Let me see here.”  He gently flattered the roll of ancient parchment in order to see the delicate script a little clearer.  “The Maker of Champions learned how to make her Heralds more powerful, to impart greater powers to her Champions…  She was losing a war against…  the Druk?  Must be an ancestor in the Drukpa lineage… the dragon?  Hmm…  The red beetle and the shadow of the snow leopard were not enough to defeat the armies of the dragon…”

“Ah, Master, I remember this battle!”

“Yes, Wayzz?”

“It was so many millennia ago, long before this script.  Longg had been stolen by an apprentice who was learning how to master the gem.  She was going to be removed from the order for her lacking skills and respect.  Her name was… Leki!”

“She lived up to her name, I take it?”

“Yes, Master.  She believed she would be the next Great Guardian and would be granted the Ladybug gems.  Master Dujom disagreed with her assessment.  Shenden was granted the use of Nooroo to help stop her, but it wasn’t enough.  I did not see the ritual, but she created a very powerful akuma that turned the tides.”

“Ah, but the ritual is here, Wayzz.  All detailed, what herbs to use and the sigils to cast.  With this, I should be able to find a way to completely remove the effects of the white akuma.”

“That is excellent news, Master!”

“Now, I think a fresh pot of tea is needed before I start.  I have a feeling translating the text properly and finding the right combination of magicks will take time to interpret.”

“I would recommend Oolong or that lovely Earl Grey blend you received last month.”

“Yes, I think those would be very welcome.”

*    *    *

“I swear, if you don’t stop bouncing your leg, I will stab it,” Chloé warned, leaning back from carefully applying make-up to the girl in front of her.

Marinette froze, willing the nervous tick to stop.

Chloé huffed in amusement, leaning in again to carefully finish the delicate sweep of eyeshadow to the girl’s eyes.  She had arrived roughly two hours ago, as she had promised, to help Marinette finish getting ready.  She had come loaded with her entire cosmetics collection, styling products and implements to transform the baker girl from her daily look to something more gala worthy.

“I have no idea why you’re so nervous, Marinette.  You’ve been out on dates with Adrien before.”

“We’ve been on dates,” she confirmed.  “…but never to such an event like the Winter Gala.  This is big.  It’s going to be televised.  There’s going to be businesspeople and dignitaries and designers—”

“And, as a designer yourself, you will fit in perfectly and wow them all with this amazing dress,” the blonde reassured.

“Right… you’re right…”  She scrunched her nose slightly.  “This is weird.”

“That I’m reassuring you?  Yes, it is,” and she set the eyeshadow aside to start drawing a thin careful line of kohl liner along the lash line.  “But you really have nothing to worry about.  Just smile, answer questions about your dress which is really the only thing anyone is going to ask anyway, enjoy the amazing food and the stunning show from this year’s troop, and before you know it the night will be over and it’ll all feel like some marvellous dream.”

Marinette heaved a silent breath.  “I can’t help but feel bad…”

“For what?”

“Well, knowing Adrien would have fought his Father tooth and nail to not attend with Lila, he would have been with Kagami tonight.”

“And?”

“And… I guess I feel guilty that she won’t get to go.”

“She’s actually lucky that she doesn’t have any obligations to go.  I have to go because of Daddy, and Adri-kins has to go because his Father is a dick and a recluse.”  This got Marinette to chuckle lightly.  “Bet you anything that the next time you talk to the ice queen, she’ll be thanking you for getting her out of having to attend yet another gala filled with stuffed shirts.”

“How many have you been to?”

“To the Winter Gala?  Every single one since Daddy became Mayor, so six now.  Galas in general, oh, a few dozen or so with Mother.  I have yet to go to the Met.  Honestly, they’re all a blur now.  I know a few were really boring, but knowing I had Adri-kins there too meant I had at least someone to talk to and commiserate.”

“I just don’t want to make a fool of myself and end up yawning at the wrong time.  Or spilling my drink.  Or having food stuck between my teeth.  Or I fall.  It would be immortalized on TV.”

Chloé growled, hands dropping away.  “Dupain-Cheng, stop it!”

Marinette froze again, eyes wide.

“The only reason you think you have bad luck is because you catastrophize,” the blonde scolded.  She urged the girl to close her eyes again to continue applying make-up.  “That has always been your problem, your lack of self-confidence.  It’s what used to make you an easy target for me.  But I know you’re a lot more confident then you let on, or why else would you have run against me for class president?  Why would you constantly stand up against me and now Lila?  So bring out that confidence tonight already!  As much as it pains me to say it, you will be glorious on Adrien’s arm and your career as a designer will really officially start on the international stage tonight.  Fair warning, that Etsy store of yours won’t cut it after tonight.  I’m sure we can get Max to help build you something bigger to accept more traffic.”

“Don’t scare me.”

“Too late.  And a little mascara… I am so jealous of your genetics for giving you these natural lashes, you hardly need anything.  When I go get my lash implants, I am dragging you with me so I can show them exactly what I want.  And… we’re done!”

Marinette’s eyes fluttered open, part of her worried that she would look so made up that it would be gaudy.  Smoothing down the gossamer folds in her skirt, she stood and approached her full-length mirror.  A silent gasp escaped her lips, and she missed the utter pleased expression Chloé gave her as she packed away the last of the cosmetics.

Her hair was gathered back in a loose twist, strategic tendrils of dark hair falling to frame her face in just the perfect places.  And while it looked loose enough to fall out before the end of the evening, Marinette could feel it was plenty solid and fixed to easily survive the event and longer.

Chloé had opted to apply dark colours to the girl’s eyes, aiming for a smoky look, but somehow did not overdo it.  Her dark lashes were emphasized with a subtle cat’s eye line of kohl, the blue of her irises popping a brighter blue from the dark hues.

A light peach highlighted her cheekbones, further delicately chiselled with a deeper tint in the hollow of her cheeks.  The final touch was the dusty rose glistening on her lips, enhanced by the matching lipliner that seemed to plump their shape.

“Oh, Chloé…” Marinette breathed in awe, turning to the smiling blonde.

“Never let it be said that I do not know cosmetics.”

“Understatement.”

“Adri-kins should be here any moment now.  I will take his jaw hitting the ground as payment.”

“Thank you… for this, for everything.”

The Mayor’s Daughter waved off the gratitude, feeling a little embarrassed and uncomfortable about receiving it.  It wasn’t something she was used to.

“Well, you have to look at least half as fabulous as me after all.  We will all have an amazing night where all three of us will take hundreds of pictures each with every single celebrity there to post online and make one little Italian bitch ever so jealous.  Sounds like fun?  Of course it does!”

She continued rambling on about delivering revenge against Rossi as Marinette turned back to the mirror, hands smoothing over the intricate crochet of a multitude of white flowers appliqued to the bodice, the palest of light blues barely visible between petals.

Hidden from Chloé’s view, Tikki flew near Marinette’s shoulder.  “You look so beautiful!” she cooed softly in awe.

“You think so, Tikki?”

“I know so.  Chloé is right, Adrien will be completely floored when he sees you tonight.”

“I just hope we don’t have any surprises tonight.”

“Hawk Moth won’t risk doing anything with Adrien’s contract in place.  He doesn’t want to risk going to jail or losing his Miraculous... or both.  Tonight won’t be anything Ladybug or Chat Noir can’t handle as their civilian selves.”

“I hope so.”

“Marinette!  Chloé!  Adrien is here!” Sabine called up from the apartment’s main floor.

Tikki dove into Marinette’s silver clutch just as Chloé squealed softly.  “Oh, I can’t wait to see his reaction!” and she hitched up her skirts and headed for the stairs, motioning for the baker girl to follow.

The Mayor’s Daughter was already chattering away with the model as Marinette carefully made her way down the stairs, cautious of the layers of fabric that made up the skirt of her gown.

Adrien’s hair had been tamed and brushed back, no doubt held in place by Agreste Design’s product of choice.

But it was what he was wearing that took her breath away.

An all-white tuxedo, from the jacket to the button-down shirt to the crisp pressed pants, that he appeared to have been poured into by how well it fit.  His vest and bow tie were the same shade of pale blue in satin, his cummerbund a deeper shade, slightly brighter than royal blue.

“Wow,” she allowed herself in a faint whisper.

Adrien must have heard though, turning his attention away from Chloé.

And his jaw dropped.

She saw his hand reach out to his side as if to steady himself, but there was nothing there and he stumbled over to the floor.

Chloé laughed in clear amusement as Marinette dashed forward to help her boyfriend.

“I knew it!” Chloé crowed in victory.  “Consider tonight’s services paid in full, Marinette.”

“Are you alright, Adrien?” Marinette asked, choosing to ignore Chloé celebrating for the moment.

Green eyes fixed on her, meticulously scrutinizing her features, occasionally ghosting over her dress but mainly concentrating on her face.  There was no mistaking the sheer awe written all over his face.

“You are beautiful,” he gushed breathlessly.

She blushed, her eyes lowering away bashfully, still not used to the gratuitous compliments he so easily heaped on her every day they were together.

“Aw!” Tom and Sabine cooed from just within the kitchen.

Marinette gave them a suffering glare before tugging Adrien’s hands to get him to stand.  A gentle tug on the lapels of his jacket, smoothing her hands over them a moment later, she smiled shyly at her partner.

“All three of you look so amazing,” Sabine praised, clapping her hands.

“Of course, we do,” Chloé sniffed.  “Adrien is a natural, Marinette is wearing a Dupain-Cheng original and I styled her so of course she looks fabulous, and I’m wearing an upgrade by Dupain-Cheng.  It’s amazing how some fabric panels and pearl beading can change a dress from last year’s line.”  She twirled in place with a bright smile.  “Never thought I would actually enjoy, what did you call it?  Upcycling?  I need to find more outfits in my closet to do up.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

“We need a picture of you three,” Tom announced, holding up his phone.  “You’re all just too glamourous to let the moment go without immortalizing it.”

While Adrien tugged his girlfriend close to himself, arms resting comfortably around her waist, her hands to his chest, Chloé came up behind him to press up against his back, chin to his shoulder and arms around his middle. 

Tom had to smile at the image the three made, like something out of a fashion magazine.  Really, that shouldn’t have surprised him seeing what profession Adrien was in and the fact Chloé and Marinette pretty much lived immersed in their own individual passion for fashion.  The baker took a few photos in a row.

He showed them to Sabine when she stood on her tiptoes to see the phone screen.  “These are going into the photo album,” he announced proudly.

“Oh, definitely!” she readily agreed.

“Mister Dupain-Cheng, could you send them to Adrien and myself?” Chloé question far more politely than her classmates were used to hearing from her.

“Of course, Chloé,” and Tom quickly attached them to a text and fired it off once she gave him her cell phone number.

The blonde turned to Adrien and held out her hand.  “Phone,” she commanded.

Adrien blinked, but obeyed.

“What are you doing?” Marinette questioned, wary of why she needed Adrien’s phone.

“First salvo.”  She typed something onto the phone, hitting the final icon with a casual and satisfied flick of her thumb.  “This will set the tone for the weekend.”

Marinette’s phone buzzed, recipient to whatever Chloé had done.  She pulled it from her clutch, unlocking her screen.  The notification opened to Adrien’s Instagram account where a close-up of the one of the photos her Father had taken stared back at her.  Then she noticed the caption with the image.

Adrienagrestebrand:  Heading out to the Winter Gala with my best friend, Chloé Bourgeois (@theofficialchloébourgeois), and my amazing girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng (@marinettedesigned), the two most beautiful girls in the city.

She looked to the Mayor’s Daughter, her mouth agape.  “What is this?”

“I’m merely letting the world know that my Adri-kins only has one girlfriend and she is thankfully not named Lila Rossi.  Like I said, first salvo.”

All three of their phones began to buzz as message upon message from fans and their friends began to pour into their accounts.

There was Alya and Nino cheering them on.

Juleka, Rose and Luka commenting on what an amazing looking trio they made.

Alix telling them to slay the night.

Sabrina, Nathaniel and Marc cooing at the dresses and the suit.

Ivan and Mylene wishing them the best of luck for the evening.

And there was even an image of Kim and Ondine with pom-poms to strike a very anime cheerleader pose at them.

There was also a steady stream of Adrien’s fans, Marinette’s online customers, and Chloé’s followers all offering praise and well wishes, a few mentioning how jealous they were the event was so exclusive and they couldn’t attend with them.

Not surprisingly, there was no comment from Lila.

Part of Marinette was both curious and terrified what the lying Italian girl would come up with after this weekend.  Hopefully, with whatever Chloé and Alya were planning against the girl, they were also prepared for whatever would come.

*    *    *

Hidden just around the corner of an alleyway, Lila looked down at her phone when it pinged a notification.  Her eyes smiled at the message: a new post had been uploaded to Adrien Agreste’s Instagram page.  He was no doubt posting a delicious picture of him wearing an Agreste designed suit for this gala.

Agreste Design definitely had an amazing eye when it came to dressing the teen.

Every shirt, every pair of slacks or dress pants, every jacket was tailored perfectly every single time.

She flicked her thumb over the notification, opening the application to see what her target was wearing to be able to pick him out in the crowd tonight.

Her scowl was immediate.

He was posing with Bourgeois and Dupain-Cheng in the image, his affection for the latter clear by the way he held her close.

And then she saw the comment tied to the picture.

Adrienagrestebrand:  Heading out to the Winter Gala with my best friend, Chloé Bourgeois (@theofficialchloébourgeois), and my amazing girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng (@marinettedesigned), the two most beautiful girls in the city.

She wanted to scream.

By the number of comments the image had already garnered, attempting to steal his phone to delete this image from existence was useless.  By now it had been shared and re-blogged and saved to desktops of every single fan Adrien had following him.

Which meant, if the media hadn’t seen it yet, it was only a matter of scant hours before they would.

She had to act soon to sow the seed of doubt.

Lila looked around the corner to the security surrounding the Palais d’Iena.  Earlier she had been able to identify almost twenty men who were obviously there to keep gate crashers out.  They were very attentive to everything around them, almost physically carrying out those who had tried to boldly go in through the front door. 

What didn’t help was also the dozens of attendants at the doors checking for the official invitation that allowed access inside.  Everything was cross-checked on tablets they all carried to ensure that if a name wasn’t on the list, invitation or not, they were not allowed in.  Despite her tales of knowing computer systems inside and out and being able to exploit any weakness they had, Lila had no knowledge what-so-ever on how to hack whatever database these attendants were using.

But even the most secure location had a weakness to be exploited somewhere.

History had proven this enough times.

Lila knew this for a fact.  She had attended more than one supposedly secure event in the past by finding a window or some back door that no one had bothered to secure.

She shifted her bag on her shoulder slightly, the weight of the cosmetics and scandalous dress obvious to the girl.  Once she found a way in, she would locate a side room or bathroom and get ready.  She might receive flack from her Mother if this one noticed the credit card charge for the dress, or somehow saw it on TV or online, but she would get out of that argument like she always did.

Her Mother was such a weak-minded idiot, she would believe anything and everything her darling Daughter recounted to her.  A trembling lip or well-placed tears would merely cement it all.

But first, she had to get in, and preferably before Adrien arrived to be able to accidentally bump into him.

She quietly ducked around the corner, making sure not to be seen, and casually strolled towards the other side alley she had identified earlier.  There were numerous low windows and access doors along this wall.  With a little luck, she could find one to either jimmy open or break unseen.  If luck was really with her, she would find one unlocked.

The sound of a door opening caused her to back behind a dumpster.  Just ahead, a large man in cook’s whites held a door open with his foot while he leaned over to open a nearby garbage can and drop a trash bag into it.  With a kick, he pushed the door open wide with his foot to head back inside.

Lila ran forward and snagged the door before it could close.

The pleased smile spread across her lips.

She was in.

Keeping to the edge of the room, she dashed forward through the kitchens and out the swinging doors.  A cursory glance around showed she was in the main dining room for tonight’s festivities, huge round tables dotting the room in strategic placement to allow free movement between each while being just close enough to allow table to table conversations.

Waiters moved about, putting finishing touches to the place settings or polishing glasses that didn’t gleam just right.

All too busy to notice a teenage girl sneaking into the venue.

Lila walked quickly towards a door off to the side, internally cheering when this door led to the women’s washroom.  She chose a stall near the door, locked the door behind which she hung her bag, and then pulled out her phone to monitor events outside the building.

Celebrities invited to the Winter Gala were starting to arrive, the Mayor greeting each one as they walked the royal blue carpet towards him.

Every last one was dressed in various shades of blue and brilliant whites.

She smirked, proud that she had guessed right as to the evening’s color scheme.  Her midnight blue feathered dress would fit in perfectly in the crowd.  It wasn’t a designer exclusive dress or anything of the sort, but it would do.

Clara Nightingale had just arrived on the blue carpet, her dress seemingly made of thousands of scarves of every conceivable color of blue in existence.  Lila would have to look up who the designer was to tie herself to them somehow.

Propping up her phone on the toilet, Rossi carefully began to get changed, keeping her eyes on the small screen.

Several long minutes and a steady stream of celebrities later, Jagged Stone stepped out on the carpet decked out in ice white and blue.  An elegant petite woman was behind him in a sky-blue sheath gown.  The rocker struck several flexing poses for the throngs of cameras, clearly enjoying the moment.

It was something that made Lila a little jealous, the constant adulations he commanded from the media wherever he went. 

That should have been her life as Agreste Design’s prima model next to Adrien.

The next car that arrived made her want to crush her phone.

From the grey sedan emerged Adrien who pause strategically to wave to the press.  He then turned to offer a hand to Bourgeois, her ease and comfort as the center of attention clear by how she glided forward and posed for the cameras.

And then he offered a hand to help Dupain-Cheng from the car, her blue eyes a little wide from the attention she garnered.

Lila saw Adrien say something to her and the girl seemed to relax, smiling at the model in all affection, ignoring the fact that they were being photographed.

Rossi growled.

Those photos would ruin her chance for sure of convincing anyone that she was still with Adrien.

She straightened, eyes fixed on the wall before her in thought, lightly sucking the inside of her cheek in determination.

New plan.

Casually bumping into Adrien at this gala wouldn’t do anything for her now.

Making a scene about him being there with Dupain-Cheng when he was supposed to be with her, that also held very little chance of success.  She would back-pocket that plan for now, she could still use it in a last-ditch effort if the need arose.

She tapped her four-inch warrior wrap heel on glazed floors.

How was she going to cause trouble for them now?

It was a weak ploy at best, but she could walk around the event and take casual photos here and there of the celebrities gathered in the hall.  Posting these photos online with just the right comments could bring the skeptics of her class back under her sway.

If she was such a pariah, why would she be schmoozing with high society?

Lila could start claiming a different fashion house had picked her up.  She could make the claim that, upon hearing that Agreste Design’s number two model was now a free agent, that fashion house signed her on to their label.  She would have to be vague as to who that was, maybe claim she was a body model for spreads where the female model’s face was never seen.

That could bring back some of the attention she craved from her classmates.

But it wasn’t enough.

She wanted the fame the Agreste family could bring her, and to get that she needed to be tied to Adrien.

How to get him though?

Could she try to get him to change, to make him turn into Chat Blanc?

It was risky.

With Dupain-Cheng present, Lila risked having a transformed Adrien turn to the baker girl instead of her like she planned.  Dupain-Cheng seemed to know exactly how to keep him calm.  He would turn to the girl first before anyone else if she was anywhere within sight.  Even if he didn’t see her, knowing she was near would make him seek her out.

On the other hand, instead of targeting Adrien, she could target the baker girl who didn’t belong here no matter who she was with.  You could put her in a fancy dress and do her up like a China Doll, but trash didn’t belong in high society.

Lila belonged here, not her. 

Never her.

She stepped out of the stall and faced one of the mirrors, carefully pinning her hair up in a messy up-do she had gotten a styler on one of her photo sessions to show her how to do.  It took only a few pins and no hair product.  Perfect for someone who was sneaking into a gala and had to travel extremely light.

She cast her mind to the task at hand as she secured her hair pins.

There had to be some way to ruin Dupain-Cheng’s enjoyment of this evening.

Ruining her dress?  Cliché.  It was like a trope out of a badly written Cinderella story.  And she had to keep attention off herself in order to remain at the event as long as possible.

Locking her in the bathroom?  Again, overdone.  And Dupain-Cheng seemed to be unusually adept at unlocking doors to get herself out.

Going to one of the attendants and claiming Dupain-Cheng was crashing the event?  No, that would open Lila up to being questioned about her presence here as well.

There had to be something she could claim that was subtle enough, but would snowball quickly.

Something she could plant among the upper crust gathered.

There was the gold-digger claim.

Lila had used that against so many others in Italy before coming to Paris.  It had caused so much delicious chaos to those she accused.

And it worked so well against couples who belonged to two so vastly different social statuses.

This would definitely work out there.  The invited masses dealt with that sort of thing every day in their own lives.

She just had to twist Dupain-Cheng’s action this evening to fit the narrative she was going to spin.

She smiled at her reflection.

Perfect!

*    *    *

“Wow, did you see the new set of pictures Lila’s been posting to her Instagram?” Nino questioned Alya while flipping through the images on the app.

“Yeah, I have them on my computer too.  I’m trying to identify some of these folks to send these to them.”

He lowered his phone to watch her work on her computer, getting up from the foot of her bed to lean over her shoulder.  Nino wasn’t even going to ask if this was legal or where Alya got a facial recognition program that was currently running through every visible face in each photo.  Possibly she had asked Max to provide something, or create something.  It seemed to do a dive through the internet, comparing each face to articles found online.

Once found, the program either spit out an associated email address, Instagram account, or some method of contact for the individual.

Again, Nino did not want to know if this was legal or not.

“Come Monday, there’s going to be a lot of press on her doorstep, and not for the reasons Lila wants,” Alya stated with some satisfaction.  “Is it too much to hope maybe her Mother will get contacted by the press too?”

“You want to get her mixed up in this?”

“Well… if she’s complicit, she deserves everything Lila gets.  But if she really didn’t know, then she has a right to know in no uncertain terms.  I mean, I don’t want her to lose her job over this, but we’re just shining a very bright spotlight on everything Lila’s been doing.”

“Gotta feel sorry for the lady,” Nino sighed, taking the chair next to his girlfriend.  “If she didn’t know, this will be a rude awakening.  Like, what did Lila tell her to get away with everything she said and did?”

“I have to hope it’s because she wants to believe the best in Lila as her Daughter.”  Alya paused before turning her chair fully to face Nino.  “But what does that say about us?”

“Still questioning that?”

“Aren’t you?”  She bunched her hands into tight fists on her knees.  “We… I was so willing to take her at her word, to believe her over my best friend.  I know Mari says she forgives me, but I’m not so sure I can forgive myself for being so… so…”

“Babe, chill,” he urged, taking her hands.  “I had some time to think about all this, and it’s exactly like Mari and Adrien told us:  Lila knows what to tell people to make them believe her and doubt others.”  He gave her hands a squeeze and pulled her chair towards himself slightly.  “This is what she does.  When you question what she says, she turns it around to make you and everyone within earshot believe you’re attacking her.  It’s part of the things I’ve noticed about her.  She loves being the center of attention, either when she’s glorifying herself or making herself the victim.  I saw how each time anyone showed any kind of interest in something, she would find a way to tie it to herself.  And if no one said anything right away for her to use, she would ask just the right innocent questions to make the people around her open up.  I also saw how Rose was her favorite target to get information about the class.”

Alya clicked her tongue.  “Poor trusting Rose.  When she finds out she was Lila’s info source, this will break her.”

“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about her getting akumatized.”

“Noticed that too?”

“That Hawk Butt has been unusually quiet?  Had to be some silver lining to everything that happened lately.  I kind of think Mari and Adrien found out something on Hawk Moth during that one week and they’re using it to blackmail him somehow.”

Alya chuckled.  “Oh, that would be awesome!  But it would have to be something really huge to clip that monster’s wings.”

“If it was even our cream puffs.  I’d like to think it was them, but it’s probably something Ladybug and Chat Noir found out while saving Adrien and Mari.”

“Maybe Ladybug and Chat Noir found out who Hawk Moth really is.  Maybe they got his Miraculous off of him during the rescue and that’s why he isn’t doing anything anymore.  There so much there to figure out.”

“And knowing you, you’ll chase down either one of the heroes to get your answers the next time you see them.”

“That’s just it, find them these days is hard.  Ever since Ladybug brought Adrien back, sightings of the dynamic duo have been few and far between.  Even Sabrina’s Dad commented that his officers haven’t seen them in a while.  It used to be they’d patrol on a pretty regular schedule and help out if there were criminals to stop, but now…”

Nino leaned back in his chair in thought.  “Maybe they’re enjoying their downtime now.  They look like kids, like us, so maybe they’re just catching up on just being kids now.  I mean, it can’t be easy on them, having to save Paris all the time from a total madman like Hawk Butt.”

Alya sighed.  “True.  I guess… I guess I’m a little scared of the day it’s all done, and we no longer have superheroes in the city.  What do I do then?”

“What did you do before?”

She shrugged.  “Babysat the twins, read comic books, hung out with my friends…”

“Doesn’t sound all that bad to go back to.”

“Yeah, but I think I’ll miss the excitement.”

“You’re an adrenaline junkie.”

“I am not!  Am I?”

“Sorry to say, you are, Babe.  And don’t you think the heroes are allowed to go back to whatever lives they had before?”

She sighed.  “Yeah…”

“And didn’t you say you wanted to be a journalist someday?”

“Yes.”

“So, are you going to hang your future on a couple of superheroes and be known as the one-trick pony of the journalism world?  Or are you going to be a journalist?”

She squared her shoulders. 

Though she would never admit that Nino was right, it just wasn’t in her to concede defeat, she had to admit that he was spot on about her focus of late.

Everything she posted on her site was solely about Ladybug and Chat Noir, and not about the victims and the passions of these that had caused them to be akumatized.

She knew those stories but never posted them.

The artist who had been jilted by an art gallery associate.

The young ballerina who had gotten bested by a rival.

The teen who wanted to start a possible annual charity event only to have the city shut them down.

The gardener who repeatedly saw their hard work be trampled.

And so many more.

These were also stories that needed to be told as they, too, were part of the Ladyblog.  They were part of the story of Paris fighting a terrorist.  The were the reason why Ladybug and Chat Noir fought day in and day out, without rest.

“I’m going to be a journalist,” she confirmed.  “While I’m still going to run the Ladyblog as a site for all things Ladybug and Chat Noir, I need to add in what I’ve been unintentionally omitting all this time.”

“Which is?”

“There are three sides to this story: the Heroes; Hawk Moth; and, Parisians.  I need to write about Parisians, the victims.  I need a human aspect.”

Nino smiled proudly.  “There’s my girl.”

“Once Lila is out of the way, the blog will go through a little bit of a facelift.  You’ll help?”

“Of course!”

“Awesome!” 

Her computer suddenly pinged from the messenger app opened in the background.  She quickly maximized the window and grinned at what she read.

“Chloé just texted.”

“What’s up?”

She favored him with a truly evil grin.  “Second salvo.”

*    *    *

Penny Rolling both enjoyed and loathed these sorts of parties.

She enjoyed them for the networking they provided and the lack of careful minute-to-minute planning she had to do to keep Jagged Stone in line.  There was usually more than one fashion house looking to provide outfits and costume to her employer for his concerts and outings.

Always a good thing if they approached her and not her having to seek them out.

And the lack of having to keep Jagged in line was almost relaxing.  True, she did watch out to make sure he didn’t make a complete ass of himself, but he learned to govern himself quite well after being told so many times.

But she loathed these events for the petty rivalries she was exposed to and the social lies to bolster one or destroy another.

It was like being in high school all over again.

Case in point, some girl was currently boasting about herself, telling those surrounding her and within earshot about her woes and glories.

This girl spoke about how she had been a prima model for Agreste Design, only to be tossed aside on the word of a gold-digger who had managed to make Adrien Agreste swoon for her.

How this interloper had worked tirelessly to smear this girl’s name all through the company and the subsidiaries to keep her from being gainfully employed.

How it had only been through the good graces of her current employer that she was even permitted to attend this gala, that the company had refused to attend unless their new prima model could attend as well.

Penny had a problem with that tale.

She knew the company this girl spoke of was not allowed to come to this gala due to pending legal issues against them from both Paris and Jagged Stone.  Some of their fashion and cosmetic products had caused some pretty serious allergic reactions in the rocker, forcing him to have cancelled a three-day set of concerts just last year.  The city had sided with Jagged and had facilitated actioning that company to recoup not only what the rocker had lost, but what the city had lost as well.

Quietly, Penny moved closer to the small group to listen to the tales being spun.

Silently she noted that the dress the girl tried to claim as her original design was actually a model from a few years back out of Nordstrom’s evening wear line.  From the looks she saw on the faces of those in the informal group, they knew this too.

Which put into question everything this girl was telling them.

“I feel so blessed to be able to work in the field of fashion,” the girl gushed.  “I’ve been immersed into it since I was a baby, my parents often hosting dear Signor Dolce and Signor Gabbana, and Signora Versace when we still lived in Italy.  They were always so impressed by the designs I drew, and they loved the look I grew into.”

Penny arched a skeptic eyebrow, unseen.

“And I got to meet Clara Nightingale and Jagged Stone during my all too brief tenure with Agreste Design, all before the terrible smear campaign against me.  Clara saw my designs and asked me to create a whole wardrobe for her.  In fact, her dress tonight is one of mine!”

Penny frowned slightly.  That was not what she had heard out of the Nightingale camp.

“And I’ve been contracted by Jagged Stone to design his new set of costumes for his upcoming world tour next year.”

The frown deepened.  That was definitely news to Penny.

“It’s so unfair that I was forced to come through a side door so Monsieur Agreste wouldn’t know I’m here.  I heard he was ready to pull my dearest Adrien from this event if he even so much as saw my face on the news tonight.”

Penny cocked her head, catching on something.  “Your dearest Adrien?”

The girl smiled brightly at the newcomer in her entourage.  “Of course!  He and I are dating, don’t you know?”

The Rolling woman looked over to where Adrien Agreste was currently cuddling a young lady, seemingly oblivious of the world around them.

“Really?” Penny probed, indicating the pair casually.

The girl laughed somewhat nervously with a small dismissive wave.  “Oh, that?  That’s all for show.  It’s something Monsieur Agreste is insisting on for appearances.  You see, that’s the girl who started the simply horrible lies about me to Monsieur Agreste and his company, saying I had no talent of my own and that I was only after Adrien for the fame he brings.  But we all know that someone who makes such claims is usually projecting.”

“Projecting?” someone else continued to question, Penny recognizing Nightingale’s manager.

She gave him a concurring nod, both silently understanding what was going on.  He leaned to the man standing next to him, whispering instructions that sent this one off through the crowd with calm urgency.

“Of course.  I go to school with that girl, she’s such a klutz with no real aspirations of her own, and she just lies with every breath.  She claims to be a designer to several important people, and she claims to be a baker because her parents own a quaint little bakery, but all her classmates know the truth.  Often, if I hadn’t stepped in to fix things, she would have injured someone or made people sick from her horrendous cooking attempts.”

“Those are some serious accusations,” a petite woman stated, her cautioning tone lost on the girl in their midst.

“Oh, it’s much worse than that!” the girl lamented dramatically.  “When she heard my sweet Adrien was going to be in her class, she made it a point to seduce him any way she could.  And when she found out he was actually my boyfriend, she started her smear campaign.  The only reason she wants to be linked to Adrien is his last name, and the fame and money he has.  She wants to leech that from him to build herself up, to make a name for herself when she has none.”

“My word!” a mature patron of the arts exclaimed, almost buying into these tales, but still skeptical.  “What is the name of this young woman?”

“Her family name is Dupain-Cheng.”

Penny’s smirk went unnoticed.  “You don’t mean Marinette Dupain-Cheng, do you?”

The flash of fear in the girl’s eyes was unmistakable, igniting an internal cackle of victory in Penny.

“O-oh, you know her?”

There was no mistaking the tremor in the girl’s voice.

“Marinette has been designing costumes for Jagged Stone for the last few months now, ever since she designed an amazing pair of Eiffel Tower sunglasses for him and after designing the cover to his last album.”

“And how would you know that?” the girl demanded.

Penny stuck out her hand in greeting.  “Penny Rolling, Jagged Stone’s manager.”

“O-oh…”

“And Clara found her so cute when she auditioned for her music video two months ago that she insisted on exchanging Zoom coordinates to keep in touch,” Nightingale’s managed added.  “Took me forever to track her down.”

“She- she auditioned… for a video?”

“All the girls from her class apparently.  Why weren’t you there?”

“I… I was probably on a trip to Achu to speak to Prince Ali about one of my many environmental initiatives,” she attempted to dismiss, hoping this would change the subject.

It didn’t.

“Well, Clara was over the moon when she found out the young lady was also a designer and regularly buys out most of her Etsy stock.  The dress she’s wearing, that you’re claiming to have created?  It’s a Dupain-Cheng original, commissioned earlier this month.  I swear, the fact that she can just churn out all these amazing designs in so short a timeframe is amazing.”

“Something Jagged always found admirable in her,” Penny added.  “He calls her his Niece, you know.”

The color in the girl’s cheeks seemed to be draining.  “He… he does?”

“He just adores her to bits!”

Nightingale’s manager smiled broadly.  “We should arrange for Mister Stone and Clara to get together for a collaboration and have Marinette do the designs for the video.”

Penny returned the smile, actually liking this suggestion.

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt,” one of the event attendants announced from the edge of the small group.  “But some grievous information was brought to out attention.”  He turned his full attention on the teen.  “Mademoiselle, could you please show me your invitation?”

The girl blinked and Penny swore she could see a bead of sweat forming near her hairline.  “My…  One of the door attendants took it and never gave it back.  But you can check the list, I’m part of the L’occitane group in attendance.”

Penny’s smile morphed into an evil smirk.

Gotcha!

The attendant shook his head.  “I’m sorry, Mademoiselle, but L’occitane was strictly forbidden from attending tonight’s function due to pending litigations with some of the guests.  That being the case, if you are part of this group, you do not have an invitation and are not permitted to be here.  I’m afraid you will have to leave.  Unless you can give me you name, and we can find it on our lists?”

“My… my name…”

“Her name is Lila Rossi,” a voice sneered from the other side of the group.  “And don’t bother looking for it, I can guarantee it won’t be there.”

All eyes turned to find Chloé Bourgeois standing there, looking very smug and victorious, her phone held casually aloft in one hand.

The Lila girl was starting to look flustered.

“Chloé… I…”

“Save it, Rossi, there is nothing that you can say that can get you out of your own mess,” Bourgeois snapped, tilting her phone to take a candid picture.  “And here we have Lila Rossi, who snuck into the event uninvited, about to be thrown out of the Winter Gala with the trash where she belongs,” she voiced as she typed on her phone, pressing a final button with a flourish.  Then, to the waiting attendant, “You may remove her and, please, if she resist, you don’t have to be gentle.”

“Mademoiselle, we would rather you not make a scene,” the attendant warned as his gloved hand closed over Lila’s bicep.

She freed her arm with a sharp tug and, with head held high, she marched towards the front entrance to the Palais d’Iena.  If she was being forced to leave, she would make it worth her while by spinning it in her favour to the media still outside.  A doorman opened the door to allow her to exit, the glass and metal pane closing behind her with a noticeable locking click.

Lila looked around quickly, noting the number of reporters still milling about, and then began to sob loudly, hiding her face in her hands.

As predicted, some of the reporters moved towards her, both concerned and curious.

“How could they do this to me!” she wailed dramatically.  “I didn’t do anything wrong!” and she let herself drop into a crouch, bending in on herself to better portray the dejection and dismay she was faking.

“Are you alright, Mademoiselle?” one of the journalists asked carefully as she approached.

“They threw me out!” Lila wailed in her arms, forcing tears into her eyes for when she would have to look up.  “I had an invitation to be here, but they threw me out!”

“I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding…” another tried to placate.

Knowing her mascara was trailing just perfectly down her cheeks from her forced tears, Lila’s head snapped up to look at these reporters dejectedly.  She crowed internally at the flash of sympathy and discomfort in their eyes at seeing her crying.

Hook, meet line.

“No!  I know it wasn’t just a misunderstanding!” she moaned loudly for all to hear.  Afterall, the more reporters heard her tale, the better her chances were that her story would be picked up to publish or televise.  “It was all intentional!  I heard them laughing at me!  It’s all Gabriel Agreste’s fault!  Him and that little hussy he’s forcing on my sweet Adrien!”

Before she dropped her face into her hands again to cry loudly, Lila caught sight of an all to familiar expression on the faces of the gathered reporters.

An expression she had seen so often before and had exploited in her favor.

The look of a reporter seeing a story.

The look of a reporter seeing a story that would generate attention, and therefore revenue.

And now the sinker.

“Her entire relationship with my dearest Adrien is a sham!  And she’s using it for her advantage!  Everything she ever told anyone is a complete lie!”

“Please, Mademoiselle…” one reporter began, crouching near her.  “There’s a café across the way.  You can have a chocolat to help calm yourself and you can tell us the whole story, yes?”

She smiled behind her hands before letting the mask of misery fall over her face.  “Oh… okay,” she sniffed, the perfect picture of a disconsolate soul.

But inside she was celebrating.

She would spin such a tale that it would destroy both Agreste Design and Dupain-Cheng in one night.

She would get her fame back after this.

Lila had warned Dupain-Cheng before:  Getting in her way was a mistake they would learn to regret.

*    *    *

“Welcome back,” Nathalie greeted from the base of the grand stairway as Adrien and Marinette entered the manor, flanked by the ever-present Agreste bodyguard.

“You didn’t have to stay up to wait for us, Nathalie,” Adrien opted in greeting, the hand to Marinette’s lower back gently steering her away from the assistant.

Ever since his akumatization, the woman had felt… off to him.  There was a memory of some sort, something just on the edge of being remembered, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.

It left him feeling a little cold about her now.

He knew she was hiding something, but he didn’t know what it was.

And the Chat in him, both Noir and Blanc, didn’t like that one bit.

“Your Father asked that I relay instructions for the upcoming week,” Nathalie responded, looking down at her tablet.

Adrien felt himself frown.  “Of course he does.”

The woman decided to ignore his tone.  “He wished for you to know that he will be leaving in the morning for a business engagement.  He expects this shouldn’t take longer than three weeks at most.  During his time away, your usual after school activities shall continue, but your modelling obligations have been postponed.”

“Anything I should know about?”

“Nothing of importance at this date, but I’ll be sure to inform you should that change.  Also, your Father brought over an overnight bag for you, Miss Marinette.”

Marinette blinked, surprised her Father had gone along with the idea.  Chloé had spoken to them before they had all left earlier that evening, explaining how it was just better for everyone if Marinette stayed at the Agreste Manor after the event.  In her experience, seeing as how late everything went and knowing that Marinette definitely didn’t want to wake her parents whenever she got home, this was the most acceptable of solutions for the end of the night.

She had been sure her Father would have made some excuse to her Mother about not letting her sleep over at a boy’s place.

Seeing as he had been the one to deliver her overnight bag, her Mother had probably used some threat or explained how over-protective he was being, and then forced him to deliver the bag in punishment.

Her Mom was incredible.

“I have left it in Adrien’s room.  Breakfast will be served late, at ten, to allow you both to sleep in after tonight’s festivities.”

And then she left for her office down the hall.

Marinette stared after her for a moment.  “There are times when I almost have her pegged as an android, and then she pulls something almost human like this.”

“Don’t be fooled,” he smiled.  “She is an android.”

She laughed softly, allowing him to lead her up the stairs towards his room.

No sooner had they walked in and the door was securely shut did the two hidden kwami fly out into view, spinning together with a laugh.

Tikki sighed happily.  “That was such an amazing night!  It almost reminded me of the nights in Versailles.”

“The dancing…” Plagg agreed.  “The food… the… the… the food!”

“Don’t think we didn’t notice how many times those very confused servers had to refill the cheese table,” Marinette accused.

“I couldn’t help myself!” the kwami protested.  “There was just so much cheese…  And don’t tell me Tikki wasn’t the same at the desserts table.”

“I didn’t gorge myself!” Tikki countered indignantly.  “I sampled a little of everything and no one noticed the pieces I took were missing.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Plagg dismissed.  “Teacher’s pet,” he grumbled as he floated up to the balcony.

Tikki merely giggled.  “Don’t worry about him, he’s just grumpy because he’s full and tired.”  And with a placating smile, she flew up to join her counterpart.

“That actually wasn’t much different than he usually is,” Adrien replied to no one.

He offered Marinette the use of his bathroom to clean up and change for the night, taking a seat at his computer to idly peruse media sites about the Winter Gala.  Very few of the big publications had published anything yet, no doubt waiting until morning to be able to verify certain details with the communications people for those in attendance.

Trash magazines seemed to have no such qualms.

And not surprisingly, all of them seemed to have interviewed the same person for their baseless articles:  one Lila Rossi.

The articles so far were just a rehash of everything she had tried to spread throughout the school, and to anyone else who was close enough to hear, about what Marinette has supposedly done to ruin Lila’s reputation and rising career.

All of it was actually Lila projecting her own actions as if they had been Marinette’s.

All of it also belonged right where it was published: in the trash.

It was so reminiscent of one of those bad Latin American soap operas, so far fetched and implausible.  Adrien wondered if these paparazzi had even bothered to reread their own articles after posting them to see just how ridiculous it all was.

There was the claim that Gabriel Agreste simply adored Lila’s look in his fashion campaigns.  But anyone could clearly see that if the man genuinely liked her as a model, there would have been more than just that one spread all those months ago.  True, she did model with Adrien, but she was kept on set for only an hour before she was released, and a new set of photos were taken.  None of her shots ever made it anywhere.

There was the claim that Lila and Adrien were romantically linked.

Adrien almost threw up at that claim.

There was absolutely no proof of that particular claim in the media save for Lila’s own Instagram account.  Adrien had long ago purged photos she had forced him to post to his own account.  Real publications and magazines didn’t even have any photos of the supposed dates they had gone on.

What they did have were the countless candid shots of Adrien walking through the city, hand-in-hand and often cuddling, with Marinette.

That in itself made it clear that he was not dating Lila.

But she seemed to have anticipated that possible thought from readers by claiming that this was a ploy orchestrated by both Gabriel and Marinette, the former to boost sales using an innocent looking girl, the latter using the opportunity to launch her lackluster attempts in fashion.

Yes, because if he loathed someone, Adrien would be able to hide it in all those candid shots where he had no idea where the cameras were hiding.

What was surprising to see was the pushback from those celebrities and their camps to the comments being posted.

Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale coming to Marinette’s defence was understandable, they practically adored and often fought over the girl and who would get her fashion services first.  

Adrien had recognized the dress Clara had worn tonight, having seen the sketches in Marinette’s books almost a month ago.  The seamstresses in the Nightingale camp had done an amazing job bringing it to life.  Though Marinette had been incredibly detailed in her notes and instructions on the design.

And it was no secret how Jagged adored Marinette, having publicly called her his honorary niece on syndicated television.

Then there was Audrey Bourgeois, who had come just short of threatening legal action against these tabloids for slandering, not only the Agreste name, but a rising star in the fashion world, as she had praised.

Part of him wondered if Chloé had a hand in that.

Chances were that the Agreste Legal Department would be contacting these magazines and demand a retraction or risk litigation for libel and slander.  And this shortly before or after they began legal proceedings against Lila for breaking the protection order.

No more warnings.

Adrien chuckled softly.

He had been in the industry too long to know the lingo so well.

“What are you smiling at?” Marinette questioned as she stepped out of the bathroom, damp hair hanging loose about her shoulders.

He had seen her wear this set of nightwear before, the day she had helped him escape his fans all so he could see a showing of his Mother’s movie in a small theatre.  Then, just like now, Marinette looked impossibly cute in her pyjamas.

“I’m watching one of many stages being set tox bring down at least one of our problems,” he replied, casually leaning back in his chair.

Intrigued, she came to stand behind him, hands absently playing in his hair as she read the articles scattered on his screens.  Adrien felt himself melt from her tender ministrations, allowing his head to lean back against her, a pleased purr rumbling from his throat.  Marinette spared him an amused smile before returning her eyes to the screens.

Then she began to chuckle.

And then laugh.

Adrien looked back at her, blinking owlishly.

She struck a dramatically anguished pose, a hand to her heart and the back of the other to her brow.

“It’s so horrible!  I’ve completely ruined Lila’s life without even trying!” she mock wailed.

He began to chortle.  “How absolutely evil of you, My Princess,” he jokingly agreed.

“But now I’ve been labelled a home-wrecker because of it!”  She let herself fall across his lap, letting herself be draped like some tragic maiden from an old fifties movie.  “However shall I reclaim my good name, that I am not some gold-digging hussy out to just use your name and then throw you away?”

He grinned, his Chat Noir side emerging.  “We could get married?”

She blinked and raised her head to look at him.  His playful expression made her smirk, her brows knitting a bit.

“As tempting as that is, Kitty, she’d find a way to twist it into her narrative even more.”

“Tempting?” he prodded, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

She laughed gently, feeling the hot flush of a fierce blush racing over her face and down her neck.  “Ask me again after lycée.”

“You better believe I will,” he promised, reluctantly letting her stand again.

She came to stand behind his chair again, arms loose around his shoulders with her chin resting on the crown of his head.

“Back to this problem though,” she gestured to the screen with a vague wave of her hand.

“These are tabloids.  Legal has instructions that anything published about my family needs to go through our comms people first.  If not, they can begin legal proceedings against them.  This will be dead by noon tomorrow.”

“And Lila?”

“What that we could kill her too by tomorrow,” he muttered.

“Adrien!”

“Voicing my frustration, I don’t mean anything… mostly.”  Marinette tapped his chest in warning.  “I’m kidding!” he laughed.

“No, he’s not!” Plagg called down from the balcony just above them.  “My offer still stands, you know!”

“Plagg!”  Marinette looked up to find green feline eyes peering down in lazy interest.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t entertained the idea, Spots, I’ve been around too long to know that’s not true.”

She blinked.  “That… that’s not the point…”

“I know, illegalities of murder and all that.  Fine, but my offer is still on the table in case you change your mind,” and his bulbous head disappeared from sight.

“I say let Alya and Chloé do their thing for now.  Alya seems to be handling the social media side pretty well so far,” Adrien stated, and he clicked open a new set of tabs to show the flurry of posts being made to Instagram and Twitter, among others.  “And Chloé has been posting all those millions of pictures she insisted on taking tonight of us with everyone, tagging all of them in the shots.  Lila can’t possibly counter any of those without causing more damage to what little is left of her credibility.”

Marinette sighed softly.  “True…”

He took one of her hands and kissed her palm.  “You’re tired, Marinette.”  Adrien turned his chair to face her, holding both her hands in his.  “You’re starting to spiral into doom and gloom when so far there isn’t any.”

She pouted cutely.  “I hate that you know me this well.”

Standing with a low chuckle, “Go to bed.  I’ll be back out in a few and I’ll join you,” and he kissed her forehead before disappearing into the bathroom.

Marinette stood there a few moments more, her cheeks bright red as her sleep dazed mind fixated on some of his words.

Go to bed…

… I’ll join you.

Had she been in her right mind, and in her own bedroom, she probably would have squealed loudly at the prospect.

Sure, they had lounged together before at school, in the park, in his room, in her room.

But to have actually slept in the same bed?

A small squeak escaped her lips.

Part of her was still trying to reconcile that she was now going out with Adrien, that she was officially and publicly his girlfriend.  It had been weeks, but it still made her feel giddy about it all.

Marinette shook her head to clear the girlish excitement that threatened to bubble.  A deep breath and a resolute tapping of her cheeks before exhaling brought her back to reality.

Yes, he was her boyfriend.

Yes, he was her partner.

Yes, she was going to sleep over in his room.

Yes, they would be sharing his bed.

No, this did not mean they were married and have three children and live in a big house with a white picket fence and eventually adopt a hamster they would name--!

“Stop it!” she hissed to herself.

With a stomp, she squared her shoulders and marched to the bed.  Turning down the blankets she allowed herself a moment to feel the softness of the sheets under her fingers.  Knowing Gabriel Agreste’s propensity for buying the best of the best, these had to be Egyptian cotton, possibly an impossibly high and exclusive thread count ordered specifically by the man.

There was no doubt she would sleep well in these sheets…

… if she could forget their possible price.

Again, she shook her head free of the thought and slipped under the covers.  Everything felt first cold against her bare feet, arms, and shoulders, almost forcing her into a tight ball to warm up.  But soon enough her body heat spread through the sheets, warming her and them to the point where she could uncurl and relax.  A satisfied sigh escaped her lips, eyes closing.

Moments later she heard the bathroom door open.  She was aware of the room going darker, even from behind closed eyes.  No doubt Adrien had shut off the monitors of his computer.  She started counting the seconds in her head, noting how it seemed to take him much longer that it should have to cross over to the bed and climb in.

Was he hesitating?

Were his nerves fraying as much as hers that she was desperately trying to keep together?

The blankets shifted and the mattress dipped under his weight.

And silence, save for the sound of their breathing.

His warm hand slipped into hers, lightly threading their fingers together.  She curled her hand in response.  Opening her eyes, she found him watching their intertwined hands as if fascinated, meeting her gaze when he felt her watching him.

A tiny smile touched her lips, one her returned.

“Hi,” Marinette whispered.

“Hi,” he returned easily.

A moment of silence passed between them, both wanting to speak, both not knowing what to say.

“Nervous,” they finally both stated in unison.

With a surprised blink, the pair laughed softly at their own awkwardness.

Adrien felt a hot flush color his cheeks when he saw Marinette bite her bottom lip through a shy smile.  Releasing his hand, she scooted herself forward to be closer to him, tucking her head under his chin as her arms wound around him.  He froze, not sure what to do in that moment, until his brain seemed to reboot and command his arms to encircle her tiny frame.

It always amazed him how it always felt he had gone a lifetime without her holding him when they shared just a simple hug.

Nino had jokingly accused him of being touch-starved.

Maybe he was.

Tightening his hold just a bit, Adrien pressed his nose into her hair, comforted by the feel of her heartbeat against his chest.

And he began to purr.

Drowsy with sleep, Marinette barely heard the purring, humming softly in appreciation.  She nuzzled the edge of his pyjama shirt’s collar, allowing herself a deep breath of the scent that was purely Adrien.  It brought a smile to her lips, a dream invading her mind’s eye.

Would they always stay together and share more nights just like this?

It was a peace almost beyond words.

“Goodnight, my Prince,” she whispered, almost asleep.

Adrien smiled through his drowsy stupor.  “Goodnight, my Princess.”

He could let the Universe do its worst.  He had his partner, best friend, and love of his life with him.

Nothing else mattered.

Chapter Text

“So things might become a little more difficult after the Winter Gala weekend last week,” Chloé stated as she led the way into the school, purse dangling with fashion precision from her arm.  “Seems the lying bitch blocked me from all her social media accounts.”

Behind her, Alya snorted.  “Doesn’t surprise me, really.”

Chloé whirled around, ready for a fight if this was a jab at her honor.  “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Easy,” the reporter placated.  “I just mean you were at the gala and your own Instagram posts have you going on about Sunshine and Mari being your BFFs now.  She’s not dumb, you know.  She probably sees you as a threat.”

Chloé smirked.  “As well she should.”

“But she doesn’t see me or Nino, or really anyone else in the class, as that kind of a threat.  Nino doesn’t even have an Instagram account.”

The Bourgeois girl levelled Lahiffe with a pointed stare.  “We will have to fix that if you ever hope to become a DJ with some sort of clout.”

Nino smirked.  “Then you run it, I want to focus on my tunes.”

“Don’t tempt me, Lahiffe.”  She turned to the redhead hanging just back from the group, carrying her books.  “How much of the school is left under the little upstart’s control anyway?”

“I had people make quiet inquiries or just listen in to conversations, like you asked, Chloé.  So far, maybe twenty percent of the student body still believe her.  From the faculty, only Madame Bustier and Mister Damocles still seem to buy in her lies.  Madame Mendeleiev has offered to assist us should it be necessary.”

Chloé grinned, leading the group as they made their way to their classroom.  “As much as I despise that woman, she at least has a head on her shoulders.  Twenty percent.  They shouldn’t be too much trouble for us.  Oh, by the way, I got in touch with Adrien’s ex, that Tsurugi Kagami girl.  I should really have tried to make friends with her instead of insulting her.”

“Why did you insult her?”

“She was sitting next to my Adri-kins, where I wanted to be.  Anyway, she and I agreed that Rossi needs to go and she’s agreed to lend us any help we might need.”

“Dude!  We’re getting some serious money behind this!”

“You better believe it.  I hear her Mother is quite livid at hearing some little Italian nobody is claiming to be directly related to the fencing world champion, seeing as the reigning world champion is Kagami’s Grandfather and all.  Can’t see a supposed full-blooded Italian being directly related to a Japanese man.”

“I looked up the Tsurugi family,” Alya added.  “Rossi should be terrified of Kagami and the clout her family holds, but I don’t think she ever thought so many powerful people were going to come gunning for her some day.”

“No, she probably thought they would all be eating out of her hand from claiming this, that, and whatever.  She was also probably hoping to have a connection with the Agreste family to solidify her imagined social status.  Pathetic.”

“Well, with everything going the way it is, I figure we can offer her downfall as a Christmas present to Sunshine and Mari.”

“Good.”

“Are we really going to drag this along, though?” Nino questioned.  “I would’ve thought you both would want her gone as soon as possible.”

“The case isn’t air-tight yet,” Alya countered.  “And she’s doing such a great job of sinking herself, giving us so much ammo without us even trying.  She may have blocked Chloé, but I still have access to all her platforms.”

“That she still thinks you’re on her side given everything just speaks to her sheer stupidity,” Chloé near chuckled.

“Or hubris.  I have a feeling she thinks she can get herself out of any hole she digs herself into.  Hence why we need our case to be solid.  I don’t want her crying or weaseling her way out of any of it.”

“You two are scary when you work together and you’re out for blood,” Nino chirped.  “It’s like watching a couple of lions stalking their prey.  But, yeah, close any possible holes in the net or she might squirm through.”

They entered the classroom to find a few of their friends already there in their seats.  In the front bench was Marinette, looking down at something on the seat next to her.  When they approached to greet her, the spied who it was that had her smiling tenderly.

Adrien was curled up on the bench, his cheek pillowed to his girlfriend’s thigh, a light knit blanket draped over him.  The girl’s hand was gently threading through his hair, looking very much as if she was petting a cat, but it also seemed to have a soothing effect on the boy, keeping him asleep.

“My poor Adri-kins,” Chloé cooed softly, shooing Sabrina towards their bench across the aisle.  “How is he?” she questioned Marinette.

“Exhausted.  Hopefully he’ll be allowed to sleep through classes.”

Nino huffed.  “Don’t know why he even comes to school sometimes.  My boy knows more than the teachers.”

“Social contact, Lahiffe.”

“Um, I think I’m out of the loop,” Alya began.  “Why is he this tired?”

“Adrien had a late night at a photoshoot,” replied Marinette.  “It was a contractual obligation with another fashion house.  He wanted to do it since he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll stay under his Father’s label and this would open doors with other labels if he decided to stay in fashion.  I wasn’t allowed to be there, the photographer wouldn’t allow it.  The shoot started just after dinner and he finished about two hours ago.  I got him to eat something at the bakery before coming here.”

“Marinette texted me about it this morning,” Chloé added, carefully pulling the blanket up higher over Adrien’s shoulder.  “I’d forgotten he does get lent out to other houses from time to time.  Said he looked like a dead man walking and we should do everything we can to make sure he gets as much sleep as possible.”

“Why didn’t he just stay at your place to sleep then?” the reporter directed to Marinette.

She blushed, ducking her head.  “He insisted.  He… he said he doesn’t like being away from me.”

The trio cooed with a giggle, joined by other classmates within earshot. 

As if remembering something, Juleka quickly excused herself to Rose as she stood and made her way down to the group at the front of the class.

“Word has it you’re organizing to stop Lila.  You know I’m in to help for her hurting our friends, but Luka wants in.”

Chloé arched a perfectly groomed skeptical eyebrow.  “You’re Brother doesn’t even come to our school, why does he want to help?”

“Everyone else from Kitty Section goes here, and he’s heard some of the stuff she’s tried to pull on them.  Luka considers Ivan his little Brother.  You should have seen the fit he threw when he heard that Lila had tried to convince Ivan to break up with Mylene, saying it was better for his career in the band.  Something about single musicians getting more attention than those who had significant others.”

“Now that’s bullshit,” Nino huffed.  “Bon Jovi is old and married, and still pulling in the girls.  Has she not heard about Justin Bieber’s wedding?  Sean Mendez and Camilla Cabello?  Their followings have skyrocketed since announcing they were off the market.”

“I never heard Lila tried to break up Ivan and Mylene,” and Alya pulled out her phone to type in some notes.  “Do you think Ivan would be willing to talk to me about it?”

Juleka shrugged.  “Maybe.  The suggestion really hurt him so he went to Luka for some advice.  My Brother talked him out of it, naturally.  And Luka didn’t take too kindly to Lila trying to tell Rose she needed to change her look for the good of the band, that she was too pink for our punk.”

“But that’s what makes her work,” Alya protested.  “She is such a contradiction to the way she sings…  Underestimate and over deliver, you know?”

“I know, and that’s what Luka and I told her.  She doesn’t need to change for anyone or anything.  But Luka really doesn’t like how Lila is targeting the band, trying to make changes where none are needed.”

“Yeah, dude loves you guys like family,” Nino smiled.

“The amount of time we spend practicing, we practically are.  Mom’s ready to set up extra cots in our room to have them sleep over any time we end up playing late.  We have a rule now:  No one makes any kind of change suggested to us until we talk to everyone in the band.  Did you know Lila tried to convince Rose and me to bring her in as a new lead vocalist?”

Chloé near laughed.  “Her?  Sing?  I know hard rock doesn’t take much talent, but does she even have any singing ability to begin with?”

Juleka gave her a slight suffering glare at the jab towards Rose.  “Aurore heard her in the girl’s bathroom when she probably thought she was alone.  Something about nails on a chalkboard with a choir of wailing cats sounding better.”

“I heard you guys before; she is most definitely not even close to a fit.  Not even for a trash band.”

“Glad we agree.  We turned her down since Rose is lead vocalist.  But Luka said he mostly wants to help because of Marinette.”

“Be… because of me?” the baker girl stammered in surprise.

Juleka hesitated briefly, wondering how much she should actually say.  “I know what happened after Adrien was transformed back, how you told Luka no when he asked you to be his girlfriend.  Luka told me and it’s clear by how you and Adrien are together.”

“I didn’t want to hurt him.  I care for him… just not in the way he wants.  The way he deserves.”

“I know.  But that doesn’t mean he stopped being in love with you all the same.  It also means he’ll do anything it takes to protect you.  When I told him some of the things Lila was saying about you, he asked to help.”

Chloé strategically cocked a hip, a delicate finger to her lips as she mulled over the offer.

There was a strategic advantage to having someone from outside their school and usual circle of friends helping out in this.  They had access to a whole new set of rational minds and voices of reason should anyone here still question what was a lie and what was truth.

Yes, that could be very useful.

Not to mention that Chloé already knew about Luka’s distaste for Lila.  Sabrina had dutifully reported on how their first interaction had gone the afternoon Alya had organized a search party to fan out over the city.

Hearing about it had been grand, but seeing it firsthand would have been sublime.

Too bad Chloé had decided not to attend that day.

“Tell your Brother any kind of help he can offer is welcome,” she told the goth girl.

“Really?”

“Of course!  Eyes on the outside are always of use.  Now, where’s the lying bitch anyway?” and she looked around the class and peered out the open door.

“She posted to the class chat that she’s meeting at the Mairie about some new environmental initiative she successfully pushed on the UN,” Alix informed lazily, scrolling through her phone.  “Said she’d be here about fifteen or so minutes late.”

Bourgeios scoffed.  “As if!  Daddy isn’t in the office today; he’s touring the industrial sector to promote a made in France initiative from Macron.  My God!  Did she actually forget who my Father is?”

Alix began to chuckle.  “Seems like.”

“She is beyond ridiculous.  What does she want from us knowing she’ll be late?”

“Help with her classwork.  Someone to take notes for her and maybe assist her with homework, also known as do my homework for me.  She’s asking for Max specifically.”

The boy in question frowned and carefully adjusted his glasses in distaste.  “I am otherwise indisposed for the foreseeable future.  My schedule seems to have booked up until well into lycée.”

Rose giggled softly.  “Good for you, Max.”

Alix began to grin evilly.  “We could lend her Kim?”

“Hey!” Kim protested.  “Why do I get paired up with her?”

“Because it’s a guaranteed fail for her, knowing how you take notes and do your work.”

Ivan snickered.  “She’s not wrong,” and the class began to laugh.

“Well, we’re all in agreement that she won’t get any of our help,” Chloé confirmed.  “Couffaine, make sure to get your Brother’s contact info to me or Ayla, we have planning to do.  Marinette, your only job today is to make sure Adri-kins sleeps and eats, Lahiffe can help if need be.  The rest of you: brainstorm!  We need legal methods, I been told, to ensure the school doesn’t become the personal kingdom to the viper in our midst.”

“As opposed to your personal kingdom before Lila arrived?” Nathaniel intoned, never raising his head from his book.

“Queen-dom,” she corrected.  “And I never made promises I never intended to keep or outright lied to any of you to get what I wanted.  And this is not about me becoming the Queen of this school again.  I am not about to let some little social climbing brat destroy my school or the reputations of those important to me just for her personal gain.”

With the confirming nods from her classmates, Chloé took her seat, primly accepting her tablet being offered by Sabrina.

There was much to do in the coming days.

So many celebrities had been named and had to be contacted already, with more to come.

That Penny Rolling woman in the Jagged Stone camp had already given Chloé her contact info at the gala and their three-way conversations with Alya had proven to be quite enlightening to the woman.  She had heard rumors and grumblings through social media about someone claiming to be more than they were, but Jagged Stone was on the receiving end of such drivel almost daily that Penny had paid it no mind.

Now knowing that it affected Jagged’s honorary Niece, Penny was very much invested.

Penny kept the information to Jagged rather sparse to keep him from exploding into his over-the-top protective mode.

Nightingale’s manager had also found their conversations illuminating. 

Strawberry allergy?  Disproven, and with video evidence. 

Emergency contact?  Clara had her Mother in that role, and only her Mother.  It truly made little sense for a woman like Clara to keep a young teenager who did not travel with her as an emergency contact.

Last she had heard about the royal family in Achu, they were supposedly on some sort of damage control.  Every last correspondence, email, text, and social media post to and from any member of the family or their staff was being investigated to make sure no one had promised something, even remotely, that they weren’t permitted to. 

The Achu Royals were more into social charities directly benefitting people than environmental initiatives.

Besides, Achu had one of the most stringent controls and penalties over their contributors to their carbon footprint than any country.  They were already surpassing the agreements set out by the Paris Accord.  They certainly didn’t need environmental advice from a teen nobody.

Music producers that were named and reached were circling the wagons.

TV and movie producers were consulting with lawyers as to next steps.

Chloé had to smile.

On the international stage, the production Lila Rossi was attempting to put on was being shut down slowly and methodically.  Best part of it was that the Italian didn’t seem to notice the doors closing on her.

All that was left now was to handle things closer to home.

*    *    *

Luka looked up the building of white stone and red trim that was the Le Grand Paris hotel.  Usually he entered through one of the back doors to this building, delivering linens that had been laundered or bringing food stuffs ordered from the various shops and boutiques around the city.  Entering from the front door was… different.

But he had been invited to the hotel.

A really early morning invitation.

A guest of one Chloé Bourgeois to join their war-room planning to bring down a shared problem to the both of them, and several others of their friends.

Never in a million years would he have thought he would walk through the front door of one of the establishments he had so often delivered to.

Yet here he was.

Fighting off that nagging voice trying to urge him to turn around and leave, Luka squared his shoulders and walked through the glass doors. 

Standing in the middle of the lobby, hands clasped rigidly behind his back, suit looking to have been pressed with so much starch it could stand on its own, was the man Luka recognized as Chloé Bourgeois’s personal butler.  His snooty expression never once changed even if his attention shifted to focus on the teen.

“Monsieur Couffaine, Mademoiselle Chloé and her guests have assembled in the private parlour,” the butler greeted.  “Right this way, please.”

The formality almost had Luka turning around and leaving right then and there.

But this meeting was to attempt to stop that Lila Rossi girl from hurting anyone.

This was ultimately to help Marinette.

That’s all that mattered.

Luka followed the butler into what appeared to be a smaller, more intimate dining room.  Near one of the large windows draped in white gossamer, a table had been set up where a number of teens were currently seated.

“Mademoiselle Chloé, Monsieur Couffaine has arrived,” the butler announced.

“About time,” she almost muttered.  “Thank you, Jean-Philippe,” and she waved the man servant away.  “Couffaine, have a seat and Césaire can bring you and Tsurugi up to speed.”

He followed the slight wave of the blonde’s hand to the Asian girl.  He had met Tsurugi Kagami a few times before, usually quickly between classes.  He knew she had once been tied to Adrien Agreste; he remembered their first meeting at the ice rink shortly before the akuma attack by the skating instructor.  Back then she had been forceful and determined.

The music he had heard from her then had been a sharp staccato.  It had been bold, confident, but aloof and tried too hard to keep itself separate from all other tunes around her, including the tune coming from Adrien.  There were hints that it wanted to jive, to mix with it, but it wanted to be dominant.

But now seeing her up close, not just in passing, he had to admit she was… cute.

“So, Juleka tells me this is a take-down against the Rossi girl?” he asked as he sat.

“Several things came to light during and after Adrien’s akumatization,” Alya informed, pulling out her phone.

“Really?” he poked accusingly.  “You mean everything else she’d been saying wasn’t enough to convince you that she can’t tell the truth even if her life depended on it?”

“Okay!  Yes, I know!  I was horrible for not believing Mari about all those things.  I was horrible for taking Lila’s word without doing my due diligence and researching her claims.  Happy?”

He smirked, leaning back in his seat with crossed arms.  “I needed to hear you say it, so, yes, a little bit.”

Chloé chuckled.  “Oh, I think I’m going to like you, Couffaine.”

He gave a quick suffering glance before returning his focus on Alya.  “So, what started you questioning?”

Alya chose to ignore the added jab.  “First, there was her text on the evening when you found Mari in that warehouse.  You later told us that when you found Chat Blanc you had followed him West, but Lila had texted us saying you were both heading East.”

Luka frowned.  “She wasn’t even with me, complaining she couldn’t run in the shoes she had on.  I left her behind, I wasn’t going to miss the chance to follow Chat Blanc to wherever Marinette was.”

“And even I know how to tell the difference between East and West,” Chloé added.  “For someone who supposedly spend months in the African bush to build wells at remote villages, one would think directions would be second nature.  That wasn’t a mistake on her part, not by a long shot.”

Alya nodded in agreement.  “I had my doubts, that is until she told Nino and I that she had spoken to Sunshine that same night about the whole Chat Blanc thing and Mari’s kidnapping.”

Kagami cocked her head.  “Highly unlikely seeing as Couffaine-san reported back that it was Adrien who was Chat Blanc.”

“Exactly.  Kind of hit me like a ton of bricks at that point.  She hadn’t seen the text exchange yet, but she didn’t even bother trying to cover for herself if she did after, almost like she didn’t think we remembered or something.  So I started looking into a few things, the small stuff, to try to maybe prove to myself that I wasn’t that dumb to believe her on her word alone.  If it makes any of you feel better, I am still kicking myself, and hard.”

Again, Luka smirked with a hum.  “Slightly better.”

“Anyways… what neither of you know is that I’ve quietly gathering information on Rossi since then, with Nino’s help, and Chloé accepted to offer her support.  I realized I need her clout and connections to make a few things work.”

“And what would be our part in this?” Kagami questioned, taking a delicate sip from her teacup.

“Eyes on the outside,” Chloé supplied.  “We have Rossi pretty much covered at the school, and Césaire can watch her online activity since the little bitch is too stupid to block her.  But we can’t always watch her.  We know that, despite the protection order, she is still stalking my Adri-kins everywhere he goes.”

“Yes, I heard about her incursion into the photo session just before the Winter Gala,” Kagami nodded.  “The press requested a comment from me on the whole situation.”

Luka regarded her carefully.  “What did you tell them?”

“That any comment on affairs regarding the Agrestes would come from the Agrestes.”

The tune he heard with that response was sharp and clear, and one hundred percent truthful.

“Look,” Chloé began, reclaiming the table’s attention.  “We know our classmates have woken up to all her lies, but they’re still holding out hope that she’ll suddenly change and stop.  Adri-kins was the same for a while, giving her the benefit of the doubt, but I blame that on his Father.”

“There’s a lot we can blame on his Father,” Alya grumbled.

“Not in dispute, but not on topic either.  Point is, they are still open to allowing Rossi too much access to them and give her too much information she can use against them.  What Césaire and I propose is to let her have enough rope to hang herself, as the saying goes.”

“Basically, let her continue to think she had the upper hand on everyone.  Let her continue coming to Kitty Section’s practices, but don’t let her get a word in edgewise.  Start playing over her when she starts spinning one of her stories.”

Luka frowned ever so slightly, trying to follow this plan.  “To what end?”

“Lila loves the sound of her own voice, loves to see people fawn over her from what she says.”

Kagami brightened in understanding.  “Ah!  Do not give her the opportunity.”

“Precisely,” Chloé confirmed with a satisfied smile.  “I know her type, it’ll frustrate her to no end to not be able to brag about herself or her supposed accomplishments.  She craves attention and her lies get it for her.  But if she can’t get a word edgewise, the attention goes away.  Think you can do that, Couffaine?”

“Easily.  She’s at a music practice and I intend to practice,” he smirked evilly.  “I’m sure Jules will go along with it, she hasn’t been a fan of Rossi’s since the told Rose she needed to go goth too.  Rose and Ivan might feel a little rude doing it, but convincing them shouldn’t be too hard.  We’d be doing this to stop the distractions after all.  And it’s easy knowing when Rossi is about to start up.  There is this horrible cacophony that starts up from her, like four or five full orchestras trying to play their own piece of contemporary composition at the same time.”

The three girls blinked at him.

Kagami was the first to break the stunned silence.  “You… you hear music from people, Couffaine-san?”

He shrugged.  “Sometimes.  The stronger the person’s character, the stronger I hear it.  Sometimes it’s just one instrument if the person is focused, other times it’s a full orchestra for how scattered a person can be.”

“Sugoi,” she breathed.

It was Luka’s turn to blink, glancing at her.

Her music had changed.

This was something rare.

Usually a person’s tune was something rather fixed, changing in tone and tempo, but never the tune.

But her music had changed.

It also sounded amazing, like nothing he had ever heard before.

It resonated like a finely tuned koto playing a lively tune…

Luka gave himself a quick mental shake. 

This was not the time to get enamoured by someone’s song. 

He was here to help Marinette, that was his sole focus and reason for being there.

He was not going to let another pretty girl with a fascinating song wrapped around her somehow find a way to dominate his thoughts.

Regardless of how demure and captivating her small smile was as she looked at him.

Or how her golden eyes twinkled as if mesmerized.

Or how a light blush dusted her cheeks, a delicate peach color…

Luka winced internally at himself.

Aw, fuck…  Please tell me I don’t have a type.

“I’m going to be picking your brain about how that works later,” Alya stated, snapping him out of his thoughts.  “So part of the plan is to frustrate her to know end that she can’t get a word in edgewise with our friends.  Can’t lie to be the centre of attention when you aren’t given the opportunity to even get the lie out.”

“My Mother’s investigations have reported that, despite the protection order against her, Rossi is still very much attempting to tie herself to Adrien-kun and his Father’s label.  Legalities do not seem to concern her.”

“Maybe she thinks her Mother’s diplomatic status protects her from French laws,” Luka supplied, trying very hard not to look at the petite Asian sitting next to him who seemed to have no issues giving him the occasional appreciative glance.

Chloé sniffed a smile.  “Her Mother is no Diplomat, nor is she an Ambassador, as the lying little bitch claims.  The Mairie has access to the Italian Embassy contact lists in case of emergencies, and it was so easy for me to sneak a little peek.  Amazing just how many people the Embassy employs.  Rossi’s Mom is a diplomatic aid.  If Rossi gets into any kind of legal trouble in France, her Mother’s position offers no protections what-so-ever.  If fact, if Rossi were to get in enough trouble, to save face, the Embassy might fire her Mother.”

“It’s actually part of the reason we’re doing all this research,” Alya added quickly to soften the evil and gleeful grin on the blonde’s face.  “If her Mother didn’t know any of this was going on, that she’s as much of a victim of Lila’s lies as the rest of us were, it offers the woman a bit of protection.  I mean, we didn’t get into this to get the woman fired.”

“Mind you, the second I find out she’s complicit…” Bourgeois warned.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s free game, understood.”

“I have to wonder…” Luka mused.  “This plan to keep her from telling her stories by ignoring her.  Won’t she just take it to the internet?  Start posting on Instagram or whatever about whatever the flavour of the day happens to be?”

“This is the beauty of it,” Alya grinned.  “It’ll have to be on her sites registered to her name.  She no longer has access to Sunshine’s accounts to post her made-up takes on there as if they were coming from him.  To make sure, Sunshine changed all his passwords and added a second layer of authentication for security.  And she’s been blocked from posting on the Ladyblog.  If I even suspect she used a different login to post something, I am locking it down.  Everything would have to come from her to her accounts.”

Kagami’s eyes lit up.  “Ah, therefore if she lies, they will be attributable purely to her and not some posting error from someone else, as she has often claimed.  It will be harder for her to deny or claim an error when they are her social media accounts only accessible by herself.”

“Well, she might claim someone hacked her accounts,” the Mayor’s Daughter admitted.  “She tried that in the past and that’s why she stopped posting to her site and posted everything to Adri-kins account or the Ladyblog.”

“A narcissist such as her no doubt has a number of false accounts in order to bolster her claims or increase her perceived popularity,” Kagami reasoned.

“I have Max looking into that,” Alya replied.  “He’s our class computer wizard.  If anyone can find proof they’re fakes, it’s him and his AI, Markov.”

Tsurugi leaned back in her chair, a deep and thoughtful expression on her face.  “One has to wonder about a person’s level of psychosis if they are willing to go to such lengths in order to… what is the saying?  Climb the social ladder?”

“It’s what’s waiting at the top of the ladder that fuels the insanity,” Luka replied, still not able to look at her without losing his train of thought.  “Obviously, for her, she wants the notoriety, the fame.  Why else try so hard to link herself to Adrien or all the names she’s dropped?  All of that must have opened a few doors for her in the past with whoever she tied herself too.  So what does it gain her here?”

“Mostly that lot doing everything for her,” Chloé snarked, hooking a thumb in Alya’s direction to indicate her and their classmates.  “Until they all found out what a lying louse she is, they were all bending over backwards to do her homework, carry her lunch tray, pick through her salad to remove the tomatoes…  This is stuff I would never dream of making them do.”

“Only because you have paid staff.”

“Ha!  Not even.  I order my food sans the stuff I don’t like before I even accept it.  I am not some peasant who picks at her plate.”

Luka huffed a shake of his head at her before going serious.  “Sudden thought:  As good people as we all know they are, are Marinette and Adrien on board with this little endeavor of yours?”

Chloé almost seemed to pout.  “They’re the reason we’re doing all this legally.  I had Daddy’s special team ready on stand-by to quietly fix all of this, make it all go away like all past problems Daddy had.”

Alya blinked.  “Should we be hearing this?”

“And you would tell who exactly?  No one has ever heard of Daddy’s issues because they were taken care of before they even became issues.”  The blonde waved a casual hand in thought.  “True, with Rossi, it might have been a little more difficult to make things just vanish seeing as she’s been here for a while and her lies are logged in half a dozen places.  But both Marinette and Adrien said no.  Such goodie goodies!  I swear, I have to teach them to grow a spine and a thick skin or the cut-throat adult world will tear them apart.”

“You can give lessons to the pair after we deal with Rossi,” Alya warned.  “Have you been getting word back from your contacts?”

She smiled.  “Every last one is lining up nicely to help with the take-down.  That some little upstart is trying to make a name for herself is beyond them, but the fact that she has tripped far past what is considered legal is very much a problem.  Daddy’s legal team is coordinating with the legal representatives of close to two dozen of the celebrities of the day.”  She turned to Luka.  “By the way, Jagged Stone wants to know if you’d be willing to play on stage with him at his next Paris concert.”

He straightened in surprise.  “Me?  You talked to him about me?”

“More like he talked to me about you.  He likes you, likes your music and style.  Called you very rock and roll.  And you know if Jagged Stone likes something or someone, it has to be a huge deal.  Look at him and Marinette after all.”

“Subarashī, Couffaine-san!” Kagami praised with a prim clapping of her hands.  “I am not much for rock music, but the name and reputation of Jagged Stone is not unknown to me.  This is quite an honor!”

Despite his best attempts, Luka felt the hot flush creeping up the back of his neck, a lump forming in his throat.

There was that tune again, reaching out to him and winding itself around his head.

She was just so genuine.

Were his hands getting clammy?

“Um, tha—”  He cleared his throat, wiping his palms against his thighs.  “I mean, domo arigatōgozaimasu, Tsurugi-san,” he enounced carefully, unsure exactly why he felt the need to thank her in Japanese.

Gold eyes lit up happily and he felt his stomach flip.

“Yoku yatta,” she commended.

“Well, I guess everything is more or less settled for now,” Chloé announced.  “Keep her from talking as much as possible, Césaire and I are almost ready for the next phase, right before the Christmas break at the very latest.  We’ll call war rooms like this from time to time to keep you updated and get reports back from you both, yes?  Good.”

Her dismissive wave was clear that this war-room sessions was done.  She was already typing away furiously on her phone by the time the trio got to their feet.

Alya’s phone pinged with a new message when the near the hotel’s main entrance.

“It’s Nino calling in reinforcements,” she chuckled, reading the message.

“What happened?” Kagami questioned in concern.

The reporter blinked at the worry in the girl’s voice and on the pair’s faces before realizing what words she had used.  They weren’t familiar with her vocabulary.

“Oh, no, nothing like that!” she assured them.  “He’s hanging out with Mari and Sunshine, and Mari just mentioned she wants to go fabric shopping.  Adrien suggested they go to Janssens and Janssens so he can spoil her with all sorts of high-end fabrics, and Nino feels a bored third wheel moment coming on unless he can get me to come with them.”

Luka chuckled at that.  “Go save the boy before they find him in the back of the store in a boredom coma.”

“You guys keep in touch!” she called back, already running for the nearest subway station.

Dulcet tones began to waft on the air from the girl still at his side, both timid yet assured.  Luka swallowed and, steeling himself, turned enough to see her.

Mistake.

Tawny eyes were staring up at him, that tiny smile seemingly stuck to her lips in perpetuity.

Dear god, she was cute.

“May I walk with you, Couffaine-san?”

“Um… isn’t your driver meeting you here?”

“No, my driver will come to me no matter where I am.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, certain he would regret his next course of action.

“Okay then… and, please, call me Luka.”

“And you may call me Kagami.  Tell me, Luka-san, this ability you have to hear music from others, have you always had this gift?”

He cocked his head as he considered her question, walking side by side up the street.  “First time I can remember hearing someone’s song was when I was a kid in Moyenne.  We had a new teacher no one knew, and I just started hearing this tune from her.  Well, I didn’t know it was from her at first, but I only ever heard it when I was in her classroom.”

“What did it sound like?”

“Soft… timid… thinking back that made sense, she was a new teacher and was a little nervous around us.  It sounded like… a pan flute playing something gentle.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It was, and it fit her so well.  She was a great teacher.  After a few weeks of always hearing her music I started to talk to my Mom about it.  She encouraged me to listen for other people’s songs, that it would help me in life to figure out if they were going to be friend or foe.”

“Your okaa-san is wise, it would be a very useful gift in any situation.”

“I don’t always see it as a gift, though.  It doesn’t always show up when I want it to.”

“But does it show up when you need it to?”

He paused at that, physically stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

He thought back to the moments the music filtered from the people around him.

In each of those moments, the music had helped him figure out a course of action.

Luka knew which teachers were approachable to offer him assistance at school.

He knew which businessperson would be keen to broach him becoming a courier for.

It was how he had formed his friendships throughout school.

This was also how he knew Kitty Section would come together and most probably last, by how well their personal music melded together.

It was how he had learned that Marinette would not be with him, no matter how much he had wanted it.

It was also how he knew Adrien would someday soon break up with the Japanese girl now looking up at him curiously on the sidewalk.

Luka blinked.

“You’re right,” he answered to her earlier question.

Her smiled brightened slightly.  “A gift is rarely what you truly want, but it always ends up what you need it to be.”

He had to chuckle lightly, beginning to walk with her again.  “This is true.  So, Kagami-chan, would you like to know what I hear from you?”

“I wouldn’t have dared to ask, Luka-chan…”

He smiled, closing his eyes to listen for a moment.  “From you I hear a koto playing clear and direct, there is purpose and focus to your tune.  The notes and tones are perfect, practised, but light.”

“A koto…” she voiced softly.  “Okaa-san never allowed me to learn to play an instrument.  She said such activities were frivolous and a waste of time that could be better spent.”

“Ow!  Tiger Mom much?”

“She wishes to ensure the family legacy.”

“By depriving you of your youth in the process.”  He stopped and turned to her.  “When was the last time you had fun?”

“Mou, I have fun,” she protested.

“Really?”

“I fence and I like fencing.  For me, this is fun.”

“What else?”

“Nani?”

“What else do you do for fun?”  She actually paused at that and he almost smirked in triumph, stopped only by reminding himself how sad that was.  “Nothing else?”

“No… I would guess not,” Kagami replied carefully.

“Let’s fix that, yes?  What’s the absolutely latest you can stay out before your Mother sends out a search party?”

“Twenty-two hundred hours.”

Luka almost blinked at the military sounding response.  “Okay, ten at night.  Have you ever been to Disneyland?”

“I… I cannot say that I ever have, no.”

“Well, if we can get to the Gare de Lyon, we can hop a train all the way to into the park in a little over half an hour.”

She seemed to hesitate slightly.  “I don’t know…”

“C’mon, one day with no responsibilities, no dictated schedule or menus.  Just fun, food, and no cares.  And then we leave at around nine and be back in Paris for your pick-up with time to spare.”

A small smile touched her lips as she looked off at nothing in thought.  “I would be nice to see what all the talk is about.”

“I hear one of the cafés has a dragon fruit and lychee punch,” he taunted.  “And if you absolutely what to stick something business related in there, we could visit the production studios.  I’m sure they’ll bend over backwards for the bragging rights alone to say a Tsurugi visited their site.”

Kagami smirked at him and he felt his heart flip despite himself.

This girl would be the death of him, he was sure of it.

“You offer a very persuasive argument, Luka-chan.”

“Would that be a yes?”

“Hai,” she chuckled lightly.

“Excellent!”  He looked around their surroundings quickly, spotted a subway entrance at the end of the block.  “We should be able to take the metro to the train station.  Prepare yourself for an adventure, Kagami-chan.”

“I am looking forward to it.”

*    *    *

A delicate finger tapped a perfectly manicured nail on her desk in growing annoyance and impatience as Lila stared at her computer screen.

Her computer screen where several of her fake accounts were currently open to various news outlets and social media platforms.

Fake accounts that once barely managed to contain the sheer traffic of accolades from the lies and stories she had spun since arriving in Paris.

Accounts that were now suspiciously quiet with each new tale she posted.

Fearing she had been blocked, Lila had quickly contacted the site admins for each platform when she noticed the traffic had nearly dropped to zero.

The response was the quasi the same from all of them.

You account appears to be active and functioning.  No blocks or suspensions reported at this time.

So why was it her hit count had suddenly stagnated when it had progressively risen with each new story since her arrival in Paris over the Summer?

The attention she had garnered from the press with her last sob story should have ensured it’s continuous climb.

Something was going on, she was sure of it.

But who was leading the charge?

She had made a handful of enemies lately, some inconsequential compared to her ability to twist anything in her favour.

The vapid Bourgeois, while having her Father’s resources both in money and manpower, was much too dumb to have organized anything.  Having watched her for so long, Lila was confident she knew her type.  She was much more likely to want to get a manicure or go on a shopping spree than bother with organizing a coup.  Lila had heard about the girl’s attempt to win the class presidency, how she bribed and threatened in order to get support, ultimately failing.

To Dupain-Cheng.

Lila scowled.

She wouldn’t put it past the Asian bitch to try something to get the world to see the real truth.  But Lila was good at her game, she knew how to make any phrase turn against the speaker.

Though, perhaps she had a hand in it.

Adrien was much like Bourgeois, rich but hapless.  At least, she thought he was when she first arrived.  He had been surprisingly clever, figurine out all her lies so quickly, his threat of exposing her if she didn’t reinstate Dupain-Cheng after she got her expelled, managing to avoid her like the plague.  That damnable Ladybug was no doubt the reason there, it was no secret he idolized the insect hero, so having heard her call Lila out that day in the park had probably convinced him to check all her tales.

Gabriel had turned against her, that was clear enough.  Who had gotten to him?  Dupain-Cheng might have relayed a message through Adrien, or she might have gone directly to the old man.  Despite Lila’s grumblings, Gabriel often made it a point to sing Dupain-Cheng’s praises, claiming she would go far in the fashion industry.

Had he gone to the media about Lila?

Was he the reason for all the fleeting attention?

She needed intel.

There was no way everyone could have turned against her so quickly.

There had to be something she was missing.

The private chat group the class used had been blocked to her now and they weren’t allowing any of her aliases to get access.

Did they know those were hers?

This was probably Max’s doing with that strange toy of his.

That left the school’s registered chat group and its sub-groups for the classes, though that was a dead end these days.  Where once the other students used the chat for mindless conversation and rumours that Lila could readily use to bolster herself, as well as class work and projects, all idle chatter had stopped.  Occasionally someone would say something, but it was nothing new, nothing interesting enough for her to use.

So how was she supposed to get the information she needed?

The few times she had allowed herself to be dragged to a practice of the dreadful little band she hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise.  Each time she opened her mouth, someone would start playing a drum solo or really loudly on one of the guitars.  Really, the only reason she even went to their practices was in hopes of seeing Adrien there.

Protection order be damned if no one was reporting her infractions yet.

But that also made her wonder.

Why hadn’t her infractions been reported?

Lila had kept track of all of them to ensure she could sufficiently twist the details in her favor, so she knew there were quite a few and some of them very public.

Just trying to be close to Adrien while in school was one infraction.  She truly had believed the school would shirk its duties of assigning her an escort throughout the day to ensure she obeyed the rules.  They had pretty much ignored their mandated duties for everything else so far.  But a teacher did shadow her and made sure to get in her way when she got to close to Adrien or even Dupain-Cheng.

Lila had blatantly ignored the fifty-meter rule on more than one occasion outside of school.  The most notable was during that first photo shoot after being de-akumatized.  She should have been charged right there for being in the same changing room.

And sneaking onto the sets of all the other photo sessions should have also ensured a charge, if only for trespassing.

And then there was the Winter Gala.

She had made sure to be very visible there, before and after getting thrown out.  There had been seven reporters who had escorted her to that small café and had listened avidly as she had poured out her heart and soul into her latest concoction, making sure to make her hands tremble just enough around her cup of chocolat to make them think she was an emotional wreck from the events.

But that story she had told had not been published.

Lila had scoured every publication big and small to find it, searching for her name specifically anywhere it might appear.

But aside from her Instagram page and Twitter account, the search no longer returned the hundreds of hits it used to.

The Ladyblog no longer appeared in her search, and a quick investigation noted that her interviews and comments were all gone.  She tried to upload them again, thinking maybe there had been a glitch, but she found her once free access blocked.  She even tried her alias accounts on the site that she used to bolster her numbers and found that they, too, had been forbidden access.

She moved on to the Agreste Design webpage and found all mention of her had been scrubbed.

No, this would not do.

She needed the publicity to keep her name on everyone’s tongues.

She subscribed to that ancient Egyptian belief that if one’s name was written down or spoken aloud, one would live forever.

Lila looked down at her phone next to her keyboard.

On it was one very damning video she had taken a while back, a stroke of pure luck really.

It was of that first photo shoot after Adrien came back.  She hadn’t even realized she pressed the video recorder.

Her phone contained a video of Adrien Agreste transforming into his akumatized form without an akuma.

He had transformed into Chat Blanc and had tried to attack her.

Rossi hadn’t planned on using this video so soon in her campaign.  She had hoped to discredit Dupain-Cheng and prove to the world what a little nothing she was.  Heartbroken, Adrien would have been easy to manipulate and trap in Lila’s web.  His fame and influence would have solidified every one of her lies since no one would ever dare to counter someone tied to the Agreste family.

But Gabriel and Dupain-Cheng were pushing Lila too far.

Both, with the assistance of their numerous connections, had stymied every plan Lila had put in place and set in motion.

Ladybug had ruined her changes with Adrien, somehow opening the way for Dupain-Cheng to step in.

Lila’s classmates, sheep as they were, had turned against her.

The school’s staff were now wary of her claims, insisting on proof or verifying for themselves.

The media were being far too careful about what they printed from her, especially if it was tied to the Agrestes and their interests.

Agreste Design had fired her and blacklisted her in the fashion community.

Even her Mother now didn’t believe her at her word.

Lila picked up her phone, thumbing it open and staring at the icon for the video.

Fine.

With one salvo, she could destroy Ladybug and the future of Agreste Design.

What kind of hero could Ladybug be if she couldn’t fully de-akumatize the victims anymore?

And what future did a fashion house have when their heir and top model risked transforming into his akumatized alter ego if angered or frustrated?

The world wanted to declare war against Lila Rossi?

They would soon learn that one does not do so without suffering some rather large casualties.

Chapter Text

Adrien felt like he was floating.

He was relaxed, not a knot of tension was in his shoulders or back, his normally barely simmering anxiety seemed to be gone for the moment.

It was just peace.

But he also knew he wasn’t floating.

He was seated on a meditation cushion in the lotus position, hands pressed together as if in prayer.

He wasn’t praying though.

This was transcendence of the mind, a deep inner peace from guided meditation.

Sabine Dupain-Cheng was an amazing teacher. 

Since his akumatization, and at Marinette’s suggestion, he had been coming to the Dupain-Cheng home almost daily to partake in these sessions to help keep him calm and focused.  On weekdays he would come right before school, making the school day so much easier to handle.  On weekends he made it a point to show up some time before dinner, partly to go home relaxed, partly in hopes of being invited to stay for dinner with the Dupain-Chengs.

And they did invite him, every time he was there.

What that he would have stayed this evening, but he had an evening event to attend after dinner.  Much as he didn’t really want to go, it was not a battle he felt like having that evening.

“And slowly breathe in for the count of four,” he heard Sabine’s soft voice instruct and he took a deep breath, counting to four.  “And exhale for the count of five.”

Slowly the breath left him and with it the last of the day’s and week’s tensions.

A few moments of silence passed.

“How do you feel, honey,” the older woman asked, the ever-present smile in her voice when she spoke to him.

Green eyes opened to the Dupain-Chengs’ living room, his hands dropping loosely to his lap.  The smile came easily to his lips when he saw both Sabine and Marinette seated across from him.

“Light,” he admitted.  “Is that weird?”

Sabine chuckled lightly.  “Not at all, dear boy.  Especially if it’s a good light.”

He allowed himself a sigh.  “I can’t thank you enough for helping me with this.”

She waved it off casually.  “Not at all, I’m just happy to be able help.  After you and Marinette told us how you’re still suffering side-effects from the akuma, Tom and I knew we would help any way we could.  This seems like so little though.”

“Oh, it’s not!  Believe me, this… this is so much…”  He rubbed the back of his neck, his nervous tick.  “Especially considering I never apologized for kidnapping Marinette or stealing from you that first night.”

“And you’ll never need to apologize for that,” Tom stated, setting a tray of tea on the coffee table near the three.  “You were following the urge the akuma made imperative.  I was one too, remember, so I think I know how it works.” 

The large man carefully poured out some tea into each cup, gathering his thoughts to reassure the boy before him.  This was the first time in so many weeks that he had brought up his akumatized self and his actions.  It was clear that he was still bothered by it all, though he didn’t speak of it.

Was he afraid to be judged for actions that were not wholly his own?

Poor boy.

“When Hawk Moth comes to you, you’re at your weakest point,” Tom began slowly.  “You’re hurt or angry or sad or whatever, and he uses that to pour the honey sweetened promise of the justice you want at that moment to convince to work for him.  It’s like a drug dealer promising a junkie his next hit if they just do one thing for them.  In Hawk Moth’s case, bring him the Ladybug and Chat Noir Miraculous.”

Adrien hesitated, licking his lips.  “It was still me, though.  I fought him.”

Sabine pat his cheek gently.  “Because you’re strong, Adrien.  We all knew that.”  She scooted closer and took his hands in her own.  “You have nothing to apologize for because the blame was never yours, no matter what anyone says to try to convince you otherwise.  You were under incredible emotional stress and Hawk Moth used that to his advantage.  He is the only one to blame here.” 

She pressed a cool palm to his forehead, smoothing her thumb between his eyebrows in a firm and repetitive move.  Adrien’s eyes closed from the comforting move, letting himself drift as she found a pressure point to ease the anxiety he was allowing to invade him again. 

“Let go of the guilt, my boy.  It isn’t yours to carry.”

A deep breath filled his lungs and with its release he forced out all the self-recriminations that had started to creep back into his thoughts.

Keeping it all hidden, Sabine silently fumed at whatever upbringing this teen had gone through to think that every wrong in the world was his fault some how.

Well, maybe not every wrong, but he had been blamed for enough in the past that he obviously believed it when people told him it was his fault.

She would have a long chat with Gabriel the next time she saw him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” she questioned, taking her hand away.

A small smirk turned up the corner of his lips before his eyes opened.

“You both ask that a lot.”

Tom chuckled.  “You can’t really blame us, knowing the life you have.”

Adrien sighed.  “Want to stay?  Yes.  Can stay?”  He shook his head sadly.  “Father has an interview with the media for me tonight to try to counter a lot of the claims Rossi has been spreading about me and my family.”

“It’s why I’m going over to Agreste Manor after dinner,” Marinette finally spoke.  “Nadja will be leading the interview, and we all know she can ask some hard questions when she senses a story.”

The model reached over to take her hand and tug her closer, smiling at her adoringly.  “My insurance policy against turning Chat Blanc and destroying the place.”

“Though, I sure it could stand a little redecorating,” Tom mused, a joking glint in his eye.

A ripple of laughter moved through the four.

“You’re welcome to come back here afterwards,” Sabine offered as Adrien took a deep drink from his tea.

“Mm, that offer I will definitely take you up on.  After tonight things might be too heavy at the Manor.  Father has been acting… I don’t know, I want to say stranger than usual lately.”

“But he hasn’t really been around all that much to compare?” she prompted.

“Among other factors,” he muttered over the rim of his cup, shooting a knowing glance at Marinette.

She merely smiled in understanding.

“You know you’re always welcome here, any time, day or night, for however long you want,” Tom assured.  “You ever want out of there, text or call and I will show up with the van to pick up whatever you want to bring over.”

“That means a lot, Sir.”

The large man smiled patiently.  “Tom.  Just call me Tom.”

Adrien’s phone chimed just then, notifying of an incoming message.  He pulled out the device and sighed heavily at the message on the screen, tipping it slightly to allow Marinette to read it as well.

It was no surprise that it was his Father texting him.

And it was more than irritating that he was demanding Adrien come home.

“Your Father?” Sabine questioned, already knowing the answer by the looks on the teens’ faces.  When he nodded, “I can call him, if you want.  Just say the word and I will gladly give him a piece of my mind.”

Adrien shook his head.  “Thank you, but no.  That might make things worse, actually.”  He stretched his legs out in front of him.  “My bodyguard will be here in about ten minutes so I should get ready to go.”

Sabine reached over and took his hands again, giving them a reassuring squeeze.  “Remember your breathing exercises during the interview.”

“And I’ll be standing behind Nadja,” Marinette added.  “So, you need anything, you’ll be able to signal me.”

“You guys are the best support system a guy could have,” he chuckled in appreciation to the adults.  Then, smiling tenderly to his partner, “And you are the best girlfriend in the Universe.”

She blushed at the compliment, but quickly recovered to favor him with a coy smirk.  “That’s easy when I have the best boyfriend in the Universe.”

“Aw!” the adults cooed gleefully, stars in their eyes.

Adrien chuckled as Marinette gave her parents a suffering shake of her head.

“C’mon, Adrien, I’ll help you get your things and wait with you at the door,” she instructed, rolling to her knees to get to her feet.

He easily fell into step behind her, gathering together the books he brought to help her with some of the physics assignments she had mentioned were giving her problems.  Then, slipping on his shoes and slinging on his bookbag, he followed her out of the apartment.

“Any news from Master Fu?” he questioned, keeping his voice low to ensure her parents didn’t hear if they decided to follow, as they were known to do.

“Last I heard, he was tracking down something called moxa to use for what he called zhong’e...  I think.  He didn’t go into detail as to what any of it was, only that it was a starting point.”

“Cryptic.”

She huffed.  “When is he not these days.  I’m starting to think it’s a trait of the Guardians.”

“Speaking in riddles and codes.”

“Most of the time I think he’s talking to me, but it turns out he’s listing off ingredients for a spell or ritual or potion.  He looks and sounds very optimistic about this one though.”

“Wish I was, but it’s been weeks.  And I’m scared I’ll lose control…”

Marinette stopped him right before they reached the building’s main entrance, taking his hands in hers.  “I’ll be right there to bring you back, Adrien.  I will always be there, that’s a promise.”

There was sudden agony in his eyes when he looked at her.  “I’m terrified I might hurt you.”

She offered him her most reassuring smile before taking his hands and placing them on either side of her neck.  It placed her in a vulnerable position, as if she were placing her life in his hands. 

For what felt like an eternity, all Adrien could do was stare at his hands on her neck.  The moment she had placed them there, it had been like he had been struck by lightning.  He knew and understood what she had not put into words.  But then he really shouldn’t have expected anything less from his Lady.  She most often spoke with actions, and this particular action practically screamed the amount of unmitigated trust she had in him. 

Finally meeting her eyes, he saw that same confidence glowing brightly.

Adrien felt his breath lock in his throat, the honor of seeing such faith in him nearly overwhelming.  He pulled her in to himself, arms wound tight around her shoulders and burying his face in the crook of her neck.  Marinette held him just as tightly, scratching reassuring patterns against his back.

“I love you so much, My Lady,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotions he couldn’t yet put into words.

“I love you, too, My Prince,” she replied easily, a soft smile on her lips.

The Agreste sedan pulled up to the front door at that point and honked the horn.  Reluctantly, the teens pulled apart, Adrien unable to hide his disappointment.  Marinette carefully cupped his face to get him to look at her.

“Be strong, Kitten.  I’ll be there right after dinner, possibly just as Nadja is showing up.”

He set his shoulders, lips thinning in a determined breath.  “I can do this.”

“I know you can.”

Adrien took her hands, folding them to hold over his heart.  “I’ll see you soon, then?”

“You bet.”

He kissed her fingers in gratitude and adoration before unwillingly leaving her side to enter the waiting car.  Watching through the back window, Marinette disappeared from sight all too soon.

Adrien turned in his seat with a sigh, feeling Plagg nuzzle against him from his shirt pocket.  He looked to his driver and bodyguard them.

“How’s the mood at home?”

The large man growled low before giving him a plaintive look through the rear-view mirror.

Adrien resisted the wince.  “That bad?  Any idea why?”

The bodyguard signed quickly, but the teen understood.

The upcoming interview and frustration at the lack of progress on finding a cure.

The young model met his hidden kwami’s eyes for a moment.  Maybe he could find a way to skip dinner to avoid his Father and his sour mood for the evening.

Agreste Manor loomed into view, the large metal gate at it’s front clanging shut ominously behind the sedan.  Resolute to get this done and over as quickly as possible, Adrien slipped out of the car and quickly climbed the stairs towards the front door.

If he could just slip through the door and race to his room…

But the luck of the Black Cat struck.

Just as he made a dash for the stairs, his Father stepped out of his office, a deep scowl on his face.

“Where have you been?” the designer demanded, tone harsh and annoyed.

Adrien paused before turning to face his Father, not surprised to see the man wasn’t even looking at him.  Gabriel was standing rigidly as always, hands clasped behind his back, facing the manor’s massive doors more than his own Son.

“I was at my meditation session,” Adrien responded softly.

Gabriel huffed dismissively.  “Wasting time as usual.  And where was this meditation session?”

The way he said it left no mistaking that he didn’t believe such a thing could even be construed as real or useful.

“At Marinette’s.”

The scowl deepened on the older man’s face.  “Miss Dupain-Cheng, I should have known.  You are spending entirely far too much time with that young lady.”

“She’s my girlfriend, Father.”

“Girlfriend?  Folly!  I don’t remember approving of this supposed relationship.”

Adrien blinked.

Where was all this suddenly coming from?

“I didn’t realize I needed your approval about who I’m with?” he countered, a familiar worrisome tingle tickling the back of his mind, Plagg’s tiny paws tapping at his chest in warning.

He ignored both.

“Don’t take that tone with me, young man!” Gabriel snapped, ignoring the warning look Nathalie was shooting him off to his side.  “As your Father, I decide who you can and cannot frequent!  And this young lady is far too beneath the likes of an Agreste.”

“You can’t control who I love!”

He scoffed.  “You’re much too young to know what love is.  You merely think you’re in love when you’re not.  This simply will not do, not do at all.”

“Father…”

“No, this Marinette Dupain-Cheng is an obvious poor influence on you and her low standing in society reflects badly on our family.  Sadly, this is the one thing that I must admit Miss Rossi was correct about in her reports.”

Again, Adrien blinked, the prickling sensation spreading down the back of his neck. 

Was he implying Rossi had spied for him?

“Her reports?” he repeated carefully.

Nathalie was starting to take careful steps away from the pair, having noticed the bright flash of green in the boy’s eyes.

Plagg was almost buzzing inside Adrien’s shirt.

Gabriel ignored the question about Rossi.

“Now I have to contend with her petty vendetta against my family,” he continued.  “Supposedly she acquired a video of you transforming into your akumatized state at your first photo session back, the one she snuck into.  She has threatened to release it to the press unless I reinstate her to her former status.”

“You can’t…”

“The image of this family and business is paramount, so I agreed.  I have also had to agree to more concessions since she refuses to hand over this video.”

“Concessions?”

“She will become a more active member of Agreste Design… and of this family.  As much as she is a nuisance, she is rather useful.”

“What have you…?”

“When Miss Dupain-Cheng arrives this evening to watch your interview, you will break off this supposed relationship you think you have with her and send her away immediately,” Gabriel continued, not having observed the growing danger in the foyer.

“Why?  So you can akumatize her after I break her heart?  Or are you going to send the akuma after me again?”

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that!” he snapped.

And froze.

Gabriel had looked at his son just then, seeing too late the line had been crossed.

Adrien’s eyes had gone feline, glowing with a dangerous verdant light.  His golden hair had paled to a washed out blond.  Twitching fingers were now tipped in lengthening claws.

He was so used to dictating to Adrien, to having the boy just acquiesce to anything he demanded of him, that in his stress and determination to find a cure to the akumatization he had forgotten exactly why he was doing all this research.

It had actually slipped his mind that the reason he was locked away most of the day reading dusty old manuscripts was because his Son was still at risk.

It had no longer registered that his Son was still capable of transforming back to his akumatized form, one that was so very dangerous due to the sheer power he seemed to have access too.

A transformation occurring before his very eyes.

The man’s eyes darted to where his assistance had stood, finding her far down a side hallway for her own protection.

“No, Father,” Adrien spat, gleaming fangs just visible past his lips, taking a menacing step towards the man before him.  “Can’t have the perrr-fect image you forrr-sss frrrom me ssshatterrred.  Have to keep up appearrran-sssesss.  Can’t let everrryone sssee what kind of monsssterrr you rrreally arrre.  Can’t let them sssee what you do, what you did to me.”

Gabriel faked an air of confidence, attempting to stand tall before his Son transforming into Chat Blanc once again.

It worked in the past to reign in his Son when he had become defiant.

“You will calm down this instance and cease this utterly childish behaviour!”

Unfortunately, he could hear the tremble of fear in his own voice.

And so did Chat Blanc.

“Orrr what, Fatherrr?” he challenged.  “Pull me out of ssschool?  Grrround me?  You forrrget you arrre not in contrrrol herrre!”

An evil growl escaped the boys lips, Chat Blanc taking over his personality more and more with each passing second.

Plagg’s keening from his pocket, begging for him to regain control, no longer registered.

Gabriel took a careful and cautious step back, the danger palpable now.

“Demand perrrfecsssion… demand contrrrol… demand obedienssss… don’t carrre…”

Normal speech was devolving into feline hisses and snarls.

“… trrreat… me… like… employee… I… am… Ssson…!”

A blue white orb of energy appeared in his hand.

“… not… want… ssson… not… fatherrr…!”

Chat Blanc raised his arm.

“… no… fammmily… don’t… love…”

He snarled, glaring at the now cowering man before him.

“… alone…!”

*    *    *

The kitchen was quiet save for the gentle humming from Sabine Dupain-Cheng as she carefully and quickly pleated the dumpling wrappers around their filling, her husband standing not far away at the stove, preparing the steaming baskets.

Marinette liked moment like this.  It was calm, relaxed.  She would spoon a quantity of filling onto a wrapper and slide it over to her Mother to seal them with the very decorative looking pleats.

She hoped to someday share a moment like this with Adrien, she knew he would probably enjoy it.

It was a social moment where it helped having several hands available to make the variety of dumplings, but at the same time it was almost meditative since the motions were repetitive and didn’t need much thought once you got into the rhythm of it.

Even just watching her Mother’s nimble fingers folding the dough wrappers with expert ease was something soothing.

She hoped that one day she would have the dexterity to make such gorgeous looking pleats for the dumplings.  Hers often came out looking a little lopsided and messy.

What sounded like a deep rumble of thunder covered the city before buildings began to rattle.  Tom gathered the women in his life close to himself just under the stairs to his Daughter’s room, his imposing form protecting them from anything that could happen.

“What was that?” Sabine questioned worriedly.  “An akuma?”

Marinette shook her head, cautiously leaving her Father’s side to approach a window.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir said Hawk Moth’s wings are essentially clipped.  He can’t akumatize anyone right now.”

She peered out the window seeing clear skies all around.  For a moment she scanned the tops of nearby rooftops before a massive dark billow rose into view.  It was mixture of black of smoke and gray of stone dust.

“I think there was an explosion,” she told her parents.

Tom moved to another window on that side of the living room to see this cloud as well.  “An explosion?  Nothing around here that could cause that.  No factories or anything like.”

Sabine came to stand at her Daughter’s side.  “Oh dear!  Isn’t that close to Agreste Manor?”

Marinette felt her heart drop into her stomach.

A powerful explosion.

At the Agreste Manor.

Adrien!

“Oh no… no, no, no, no, no…”

She whirled on herself, grabbing her purse in the split second it took her to run out the door, completely ignoring the calls from her parents.  Marinette was out in the streets in a blink, dashing towards the billows of smoke and dust.  In the distance, she could hear the sirens of firetrucks and police making their way to the same destination as her.

“Marinette!” Tikki called from her purse.

“… there was an explosion… at the Agreste Manor…!” she panted.

“Do you think it was Adrien?”

“… not sure,… but he said his Father… was more and more on edge lately...” 

She rounded a corner and a sharp pain stabbed into her side, forcing her to a temporary stop.  A stitch in her side.  She had taken off too quickly, run too hard for her body to have caught up with her.  And being out of the Ladybug suit, she didn’t have the increased stamina to protect her from this. 

Cradling her pain in one hand, Marinette leaned on a wall and panted hard.  She needed her heart rate to come down, her breathing to be less erratic.

“Are you alright?” the little kwami asked in concern.

“… I just need… to catch… my breath...”

Squinting through the pain, Marinette’s eyes fixed the smoke just above the buildings.

Her mind raced with any number of scenarios that could have happened.  None of them were good.

Was anyone trapped in whatever was left after the explosion?

Was Adrien physically hurt?

Was Gabriel reneging on the agreement not to become Hawk Moth?

A determined growl escaped her lips and she pushed herself off the wall, starting to run again. 

She had to find Adrien, but transforming into Ladybug would be premature.  It was too risky to let Gabriel know that Ladybug was concerned about his Son when this one was supposedly involved with someone else.  It was also too risky to have whoever Mayura was follow her and see her transform once she got information off of Gabriel.

Rounding another corner, Marinette skidded to a halt to pull herself back around the corner and out of sight.

Ahead, the police and fire department were cordoning off the area.  Rolls and rolls of yellow caution tape was strung like some haphazard spider web, keeping the curious at a safe distance.

Marinette recognized the media van from TVi already pulling up, no doubt since Nadja Chamack and her team were already on their way for their interview with Adrien.  They, too, were being stopped at the caution tape.  It looked like they were trying to negotiate with the police, trying to justify their presence and their access to the site.

At the far end of the grouped emergency vehicles, Marinette spied an ambulance.  The back end of it was open.  Sitting on the step leading into the vehicle, looking disheveled and harried, was Gabriel Agreste.  Nathalie then stepped into view, speaking to him about something he wasn’t registering.

“There’s the bastard,” Marinette hissed.

“He might not be the cause of this, Marinette,” Tikki cautioned.

“He’s Hawk Moth, Tikki.  What are the chances he isn’t the cause?”

The kwami paused, mulling over the question.  “You’re probably right, but we have to approach this carefully.”

“I know.  He might not try anything, but we have no idea where is or who is Mayura.”

“Exactly.  For all we know this is a ruse to have Chat Noir and Ladybug to come investigate and then have Mayura ambush them.”

“Mighty big ruse, aggravating Adrien enough to make him transform.”

“I agree.  I would give him the benefit of the doubt…”

“If you didn’t know he’s Hawk Moth.”

“Yes.”  Marinette felt her purse shift as Tikki flitted up to her shoulder to get a better view.  “I wish Plagg were here, he could explain what happened.”

“I’m hoping he’s with Adrien.”

“We need to speak to Gabriel.”

Blue eyes surveyed the men running around amongst the vehicles with hoses and other emergency supplies.  She could see a path all the way to the elder Agreste behind the caution tape, but she would have to move carefully.

She bolted forward and ducked behind some parked cars, staying low and out of sight.

Moving from behind one car to the next was the trickiest part, her timing having to be perfect to avoid anyone turning and seeing her just as she ran.

The luck of the Ladybug thankfully was with her.

Halfway to the ambulance, she risked peeking through the car’s windows towards the house.

What was left of the house.

The entire side on which she knew Gabriel had his office was gone, a pile of dusty and smoking ruins and rubble.  The grand staircase inside the main foyer was just visible from her angle, usually white marble now scorched black and scarred.

Her breath almost locked in her throat, but she fought it off.

There was no denying the familiarity of the damage.

“Chat Blanc is back,” she voiced in a shaky breath.

Tikki keened softly.

Ducking back out of sight, the teen looked over towards the ambulance, gauging the distance left to negotiate.

She was almost there.

One more firetruck length and she could confront Gabriel as to what happened.

A quick dash and she was now hidden around the back corner of the firetruck closest to the ambulance.

“I understand you were frustrated these last few days, but this was a highly dangerous thing you did,” she heard Nathalie say.

It was as close to an admonishment as Marinette had ever heard deliver to the great Gabriel Agreste.  He truly must have been in shock to allow his assistant to speak to him this way.

“Adrien could have very well destroyed the entire house,” Nathalie continued.

“Never mind the entire city,” Marinette chided, coming into view.

Gabriel finally reacted, head snapping up as both he and Nathalie faced the girl.

His mouth moved, wanting to speak, but hunting for the words in his shock addled mind was difficult.  “Miss… Miss Dupain-Cheng… I…”

The girl frowned, her anger palpable.  “What?  Did you forget what you did to him?  What you did to your own Son?”

“… no, I… I didn’t…”

“What did you do?”

“… I…”

“What did you do to him, Gabriel?” she demanded, towering over the man.

“He’s been stressed, with the company and trying to find a cure—”

“Stop!” the teen commanded, pointing an accusing finger at Nathalie to silence her.  “I want no excuses, least of all from you.  You saw what this sad excuse of a human did to Adrien, and you did nothing.  You are not permitted to make excuses for him.”

Nathalie sunk onto herself, taking a step back.

Gabriel sunk his face in his hands, rubbing in frustration as he inhaled deeply.  “My… my research was leading no where.  I was… I was running in circles from scroll to manuscript and back trying to find the solution.  I was hitting roadblocks created to keep the secrets of the Miraculous obscured.”

“You saw these before you tried your little experiment on Adrien,” Marinette accused.  “That should have been your first clue not to continue with it.”

“The lure of a more powerful akuma was too powerful.  To be able to defeat Ladybug and Chat Noir and finally get their Miraculous…  To finally have the means to bring back my dearest Emilie…”

“And look how well that turned out,” she spat.

“I never intended…”

“To what?  Use your Son for your own gain?  Turn him into the single most destructive force on the planet?  What exactly did you not intend?”

“He was supposed to be my greatest creation.  All those years… he just needed a push over the right side of the edge.”

“Right side of the edge?”

“He had always been such a good boy, regardless of what anyone did.  But that night I didn’t need a good boy.  Miss Rossi only knew she had to create the scandal, make it plausible as to why everything was happening now.”

Marinette felt suddenly cold at that statement.

Gabriel had just admitted that he had used Lila to create the right amount of stress in Adrien to be able to akumatize him.

To akumatize his own Son.

Manipulate him to feel devastation.

“You… you orchestrated all of it?”

Gabriel wrung his hands together, a nervous tick.  “Miss Rossi assured me this would flawless.  She doesn’t know who I am and what I was planning, she only knew that I needed a scandal.  I needed someone I could control, and I thought… I thought I could control Adrien in his akumatized form with my new akuma… like I always have…”

No one saw the movement.

One moment, Gabriel was sitting on the steps leading into the ambulance.

The next moment, he was sprawled to the pavement, nursing his jaw from the impact.

Marinette stood over him, her form trembling in fury he could easily feel through the Butterfly Miraculous.

Given any other time, he would have been more than happy to attempt to akumatize her.

But right now, to try that with her anger directed at him and her knowing he was Hawk Moth, it was a guarantee she would ignore the Heroes of Paris and would focus solely on him.

And there was the matter of that contract he had signed with Adrien…

Marinette held an open palm out to him.

“Miraculous!  Now!” she demanded.

There was no room to question.

His trembling hand reached into his jacket to an inner pocket, pulling out the tiny broach that was the Butterfly Miraculous.  Marinette’s eyes quickly flicked over it before flaring angrily.

“Both of them!” Marinette commanded.

He froze, eyes flitting quickly to Nathalie before reaching into the breast pocket again to also retrieve the Peacock Miraculous.  With careful reverence he placed both gems onto the girl’s palm, her fist closing tightly over them both to keep him from taking them back.

“You don’t deserve to ever get Adrien back,” she ground.  “Everything here is your fault and your fault alone.”

With a final glare, Marinette turned and ran off.

Nathalie released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“That could have gone worse,” she voiced.

When Gabriel didn’t answer right away, she looked down at him.  He had managed to sit up, gingerly cradling his jaw.  She crouched to examine the injury, only to have him pull away before she got too close.

But she saw the bruise already rising under his skin.

She blinked in realization.

“Did… did she break your jaw?”

For a moment, he hesitated, and then looked at her sheepishly.

At that moment, Nathalie’s fear and respect for the petite girl increased.

No one noticed conniving green eyes watching the entire scene from just beyond the caution tape.

Running down streets and alleyways, putting as much distance between herself and the crumbled remains of Agreste Manor, Marinette ran flat out in the direction of Master Fu’s apartment.  She didn’t worry about anyone following her, she had the Peacock and Butterfly Miraculous firmly in her hand.  Those two were the only people who could have caused problems for her. 

But not anymore.

“Do you know what you’re going to do?” Tikki questioned from the girl’s purse.

She nodded as she ran.  “… simple…” she panted.  “… I’ll give the… Miraculous… to Master Fu… transform… from his place… find Adrien… bring him to… the bakery… he’s never… going back to… that house… and then… go back… and kill Gabriel…”

“Marinette!  You can’t kill him!  You’re a hero!”

“… fine… maybe… just maim him… a little… or a lot…”

“Marinette!”

“He doesn’t deserve to get away with this!” she managed in one breath, skidding to a stop.

“And he’s not.  He’s now lost everything.  He and Mayura no longer have their Miraculous.  He no longer has a way to steal the earrings and Chat Noir’s ring, so he no longer has a way to make the wish and bring his wife back.  He’s lost his house.  And I’m pretty sure he’s lost Adrien now after this.”

The girl was still panting hard to regain her breath.  “… I am never… letting Adrien… go back to him…”

“And he didn’t get away uninjured.”

“Adrien gouging out his chest as Chat Blanc doesn’t cover this.”

“No, I’m referring to the punch you delivered just now.  I think you broke Gabriel’s jaw.”

“Good.”

At the silence, Marinette looked down at her purse.  She was greeted by a disapproving frown from her kwami.  The girl winced, looking away from the stern glare.

“I know.  I know, Tikki.  I need to be better than this… even if he deserves it.  But it’s just so hard right now.”

“I care about Adrien too, Marinette.  If there was anything I could do, really, I would.  But there are rules in place to make sure we don’t cross that line, that we don’t start abusing our powers.  Hawk Moth abused his powers, and look what it brought him.”

Marinette heaved a sigh.  “Small consolation that he can’t do it anymore.”

“We take our victories where we can, no matter how small.”

She looked at her closed fist where the two recovered Miraculous were.  “Maybe by the time I give these back to Master Fu, we’ll have an idea of where Adrien ran off to.”

“It’s bound to be on the news.”

With a determined frown, Marinette began to run again.

Her first duty was to the Miraculous gems and to keep them safe.

Then she would find Adrien and save him.

*    *    *

From the deck of the barge, the teens watched the column of smoke rising from somewhere in the city, faintly hearing the sirens of emergency vehicles in the distance.

“Do you believe this was an akuma?” Kagami questioned the group, her warrior nature threatening to activate to defend anyone who required it.

Alya looked at the dark screen on her phone.  “No alarm.  And Ladybug and Chat Noir did say they found a way to keep Hawk Moth from akumatizing anyone.”

Nino scratched the back of his head in thought.  “I feel like I know where that is.”

Luka nodded.  “Same.  Looks like it’s a few blocks over.”

Pursing her lips in thought, Juleka grabbed her phone and pulled up TVi’s news feed.  If anyone in the city would be on top of local events, it would be the largest local station.  Sure enough, it was the breaking news story.

With a quick flick on the screen, she had the news feed playing on the larger screen that had been set up on deck a few weeks ago.

“We’re on the scene right now, at the site of a mysterious explosion that has leveled half of Agreste Manor,” a reporters voice spoke over the streaming video of emergency vehicles and the severely damaged house.

Rose gasped as everyone else gaped.

“Oh, no!” Mylène breathed, Ivan wrapping her in his arms to comfort her.

Nino immediately pulled out his phone and fired off a quick series of texts.

He seemed frustrated that he wasn’t getting a response.

He changed app to make a call, putting it on speaker.

It rang.

And rang.

And rang.

“You reached Adrien’s phone, leave a message at the beep,” came the recorded message.

“Adrien-chan…” Kagami breathed in worry.

Alya quickly began to fire off texts of her own, then frowned when they went unanswered as well.

“Either Marinette is there, too, or she’s ignoring my texts,” she told the group.

“We’ve been told there is currently no cause for this explosion,” the reporter’s voice continued.  “Authorities have assured us that all maintenance in the area had been completed just a few days ago and there are no gas mains running near these buildings.  TVi news was on route to Agreste Manor shortly before this event in order to interview Adrien Agreste, premier male model for Agreste Design and Son of Gabriel Agreste, regarding allegations made by former Agreste Design model Lila Rossi.”

Ivan growled.  “I swear, anytime something bad happens to Adrien and Marinette, she’s involved.”

“Of course, she involved,” Luka replied.  “She’s the reason any of it happens.”

“Preliminary reports are there are no casualties.  Conflicting information first stated Gabriel Agreste had not been injured, but we have just learned that he indeed is hurt, suffering from a broken jaw.  We are also hearing of strange sightings over the city heading towards the Eiffel Tower.  TVi has a chopper on the way to confirm.  We will continue to roll a live feed and pass along any new information as it becomes available.”

“Sightings over the city?” Nino questioned.

“If Hawk Moth can’t akumatize anyone, what do you think it is?” Luka asked.

Alya frowned.  “If it was Ladybug or Chat Noir, the journalists would have said as much instead of sightings.”  She bit her bottom lip.  “I have a scary thought.”

“Please, share,” Juleka urged.

“Half the Agreste Manor is rubble,” she listed.  “Gabriel Agreste seems to be the only one hurt.  Adrien is MIA, so is Marinette.  What if… what if Adrien changed?”

Genuine worry settled on Ivan’s face.  “You think he became Chat Blanc again?”

“I mean, I don’t have the deets as to what might have caused him to change, and really, knowing his Father, knowing the reason isn’t all that hard to figure out, but it just fits.”

“So where are Ladybug and Chat Noir?” Rose questioned.

“I have to think they’re on their way if they know what happened, or will be soon if they made the same connections I just did.”

“And there is nothing we can do to assist them,” Kagami stated with a kind of finality.  “We can only watch the events as they unfold.”

“This is the frustrating part,” Nino growled.  “I just want to race out there to help my boy.”

“But how would you accomplish this?”

“I… I don’t know… I’d do… I’d do something.”

“And possibly get in the way of Ladybug and Chat Noir.  No, this is larger than any of us can rightfully do to help.  I understand the feeling of helplessness, Nino-chan.  Adrien-chan is my friend as well.  But we must be patient and wait this out.”

“This sucks,” he groaned.

“Trust in Ladybug and Chat Noir,” Mylène tried to reassure.  “This is what they do, magic and the weird is what they’re good at.”

Rose brightened.  “Mylène and Kagami are right.  They’re the professionals.”

Alya winced as if in pain.  “I wish I could go out there and record everything… but Marinette ripped into me the last time I got too close to the action.”

Luka smirked, remembering the incident.  “The akuma almost dropped a building on your head.”

“I was getting some awesome shots!”

“And who would have seen them had you gotten yourself crushed?”

She pouted.  “The Miraculous Cure would’ve fixed everything.”

Kagami shook her head in patient chiding.  “Not the point, Alya-chan.  We have all grown a little too used to and complacent to the knowledge that the Miraculous Cure can just sweep through and fix the damages caused by an akuma.  Yudantaiteki.”

Luka nodded.  “Proceed with caution.”

“Precisely.  Ishibashi o tataite wataru.  Knock on a stone bridge before crossing it.”

Alya growled.  “Fine!  I’ll stay put.”  She looked to Kagami, a rueful grin spreading on her lips.  “Is there a proverb about friends keeping you from doing something stupid?”

Kagami smiled.  “Friends are what help you live longer.  I believe you live that proverb every day.”

And the group laughed.

*    *    *

Kneeling on a bamboo mat, Master Fu carefully poured tea into a cup, an ear trained on the news playing on the television just behind him.

With the damage being reported to the Agreste Manor, he didn’t have to guess what happened or what was going to happen.

He knew this damage was caused by Chat Blanc; poor Adrien Agreste having succumbed to his akumatized self yet again.

He knew Marinette would be arriving, he could feel her aura drawing closer.

He knew she would demand to know his progress on the cure.

And he knew she would rush out as quickly as she had arrived to find her partner.

So he had to try to ground her in her frazzled state, help her think clearly and rationally so as not to make a mistake that could end up being costly.

Sure enough, moments later, Marinette came bursting through his door.  She was completely winded from running, falling to her knees and taking desperate gulps of air in order to recover.  She held up a hand to stop him from speaking, somehow knowing he was about to say something even if she didn’t look up.

Taking one more deep breath, Marinette finally looked at him, despair and anger in her eyes.

“Adrien transformed into Chat Blanc,” she got out in one breath.

Fu slowly stroked his beard.  “Hm, I figured as much by the news reports.”

“It was all Gabriel’s fault.”

“Calm, my child.  Drink some tea and tell me everything you know.”

She accepted the offered cup, staring into the light green liquid for a moment.  Everything in her was screaming to hurry.  Her plaintive eyes must have reflected that when she looked up at the wizened Master.

“We know Chat Blanc will not leave the city.  He will want to stay near you, Marinette.  The media is already searching for him so one needs one to listen to the news to know where he ultimately will be.  And Gabriel Agreste will have too many answers to give the authorities right now about his house and where his Son is to risk becoming Hawk Moth and causing more issues.”

The girl huffed.  “Nathalie will be answering those questions for him.”

“Oh, why is that?”

“In her anger, Marinette may have broken his jaw,” Tikki reported from where she floated with Wayzz.

Fu blinked at that.

“Really?  Oh dear…”

“He deserved it,” Marinette muttered, sipping from her cup.

“Tell me everything, child.”

She heaved a deep bracing breath.  “He said… he said he was hitting roadblocks, no doubt set up by the Guardians of the past, in his research to find a cure to his playing around with the akuma’s nature.”

Fu chuckled ever so lightly.  “Yes, the masters of old were very much adept in hiding information so that the wrong people could never access everything they needed.  Hence why his attempt to alter the akuma failed, he was missing several key pieces.”

She looked at him in hope.  “Does that mean you found the cure?”

“I have.  I am awaiting delivery in the next few days of several components I am currently missing, and they we may rid young Adrien of this affliction.”

It was as if a huge weight lifted off her shoulders and they sagged in relief.  “Thank the Miraculous…”

“Gabriel’s frustrations boiled over, and he took it out on his Son?” he prompted.

She nodded, taking one more sip to collect her thoughts now that she had one less thing to worry about.  “He also let slip that, when he started all of this, he used Lila Rossi to cause a plausible reason for him to be mad at Adrien and restrict him even more, to push him over the edge Adrien always walks.”

The old man groaned silently, sucking the inside of his cheek.  “I wish I had known his home life so much sooner; I would have let him in on many of the secrets I was sharing with you.  This isolation Gabriel forces onto him, the demand of perfection… it always amazed me that, despite the incredible power the Black Cat Miraculous bestowed him, he never once attempted to use it against anyone.  He stayed on a path of good.  It must be such a hard thing for him to do.”

“Since his de-akumatization, he’s been coming over to my place to meditate under Mama’s direction.”

“After all this, he will need so much more.”

A hard frown set on Marinette’s face.  “I am never letting him go back to that monster.”  Then, with a sudden blink in realization, “Oh, right!  I almost forgot.”

She held up her closed fist and gasped in pain as she opened it.

Marinette hadn’t realized how tightly she was holding her hand closed over the magical items.  The items glistened with their own power and from her blood.  She had clutched them so tightly the gems’ edges had sliced into her palms without her noticing.

Both Tikki and Wayzz keened softly at the sight.

Fu hissed.  “Do not move, I’ll be right back.”

The teen stared at her hand in wonder.  She had often seen in movies and read in books about characters gripping something precious or important so tightly that it had dug into flesh without them noticing.  Part of her then had wondered how such a thing was possible.  Back then, it had been difficult for her to imagine someone not realizing the pain of something slicing open their palm.

But now she knew how this was possible.

A tiny red form appeared in the edge of sight, Tikki moving closer to her holder to peer into her palm.

“Does it hurt?” the kwami asked softly.

“Honestly… I don’t know.  I mean, I know this should hurt, but I don’t think my brain is connecting to it right now.”

Fu returned with a tray on which was a large water filled bowl, a smaller bowl, small towels and rolls of bandages.  Donning a pair of latex gloves, the old man carefully removed the Miraculous gems from Marinette’s palm, his movements much steadier than someone his advanced should possess.  He placed the items into the smaller bowl of water, the little amount of blood on them swirling into the liquid in rusty whisps.

Then dipping one of the small towels in the larger bowl, the ancient master began to tend to the task of cleaning the wound.

Magical as Miraculous were, they were not immune to exposure to germs and the elements.

“… and we can now confirm that the strange sightings first reporting are indeed the return of Chat Blanc,” the news announced as Fu worked silently.  “TVi has a helicopter who spotted him along the rooftops and followed him to the Eiffel Tower where he seems inclined to stay.  We don’t know what he’s waiting for, but one can assume with some measure of certainty that he is waiting for Ladybug to make an appearance.”

Marinette’s eyes had fixed the television, watching the news feed from the helicopter circling Paris’s most famous monument.

Her heart ached at the sight, the anxious need to go to him growing within her.

Chat Blanc looked frazzled, running from one end of the steel platform to the other, glaring and hissing at the news chopper and those belonging to emergency services that were also circling. 

Every few seconds he would fire off a blue-white energy sphere at the aircrafts, but it was clear he wasn’t aiming at them.

He wanted them away.

He was trying to force them to keep their distance.

“Adrien is still in control,” Marinette voiced, relief in her voice.

“Mm, the boy is strong,” Fu agreed, wrapping gauze bandages around her hand with all possible care.  “And Plagg is with him, offering counsel… as best as Plagg is known for.”

“Plagg was actually extremely helpful during the initial akumatization, Master,” Tikki voiced.  “I was very proud of him.”

Marinette smiled at the kwami.  “He cares for Adrien.”

“Plagg has had many kittens in the past, but I have never seen him more attached than he is with Adrien.”

“Which is what makes them an excellent team to be Chat Noir.”  She looked to the television again.  “I need to go to him, help calm him down.”

“Bring him back to your place,” Fu counselled.  “He needs somewhere soothing and to be surrounding by calming influences.  Once I have the final ingredients, I will ask you both to come here.  Does your Mother have any incense?”

“I think so.”

“I advise you ask her to burn some.  Something energizing.  Transforming like this must be draining on Adrien’s xi and it will need replenishment.  When this kind of akuma was last used many centuries ago, those who volunteered were left in what I can best guess a vegetative state.  And the akuma was altered correctly back then.”

A rueful grin touched her lips.  “So I get an excuse to cuddle and coddle him?”

“Not that I believe you need much of an excuse,” Fu chuckled in teasing. 

He finished the bandage and sat back on his heels.  Gingerly, she tested her fingers, noting with satisfaction that she felt minimal pain.  With her costume, she should feel nothing at all and be able to get around with her yo-yo without problems.

She stood.

And paused.

“Master, now that we have the Peacock and Butterfly Miraculous back, does that mean Adrien and I have to give back our Miraculous?”

His smile was gentle.  “I’m afraid not.  The world still needs Ladybug and Chat Noir.  Though one evil is gone, there are others equal to it still out in there.  This is not the only Miracle Box in the world and, like this one, the gems may have fallen in the wrong hands.  You may be called on again.”

She nodded.  “Understood, Master.”

Backing away two steps from the old man, the girl called on her transformation before heading for the roof access just over their heads.

“Remember, Ladybug,” Fu called after her.  “He will need as much rest and restorative energies as possible.  I fear another event like this so soon could kill him.”

“I won’t let anything happen to him, Master,” she assured, and then she was gone.

Wayzz hovered just behind Fu’s shoulder as he picked up the teacups and pot to wash and put them away.  “Master, do you think it wise letting him stay with her family?  Would he not be better off here where you may replenish his xi?”

“Adrien would go stir-crazy if he stayed here.  Leaving my apartment for any reason could point our enemies to where I am and where the other Miraculous gems are.  There are other forces looking for your kin, my little Wayzz.  No, Marinette and her family have the love he needs, and it is more plausible for him to be there with her.”

He rinsed the two Miraculous gems carefully, drying them with all meticulous care.  Slow steps brought him blindly back into the main room, his eyes fixed on the cracked Peacock broach and the darkened Butterfly pin.

“Poor Nooroo and Duusu,” he signed.  “What they must have endured all these years.”

He touched the dragon reliefs on the side of an old gramophone in the corner of the room.  A small panel opened, revealing two rows of small, raised buttons.  Pressing a sequence of three buttons, the top of the gramophone swung back.  A pedestal mechanism activated, pushing the Miracle Box up into view.  With a resolute sigh, Fu opened the box and set the Butterfly pin on it’s designated spot.

He hesitated with the Peacock Miraculous, staring long and hard at the thin cracks running through the precious stones and enamel.

“I should probably look into fixing Duusu before putting this Miraculous away,” he mused.  “He has been broken for far too long.”

And he turned to retrieve the Miraculous Grimoire, setting it on his worktable to begin the delicate task of repairing the ancient gem.

*    *    *

Chat Blanc paced the wide girder, stalking it’s length in growing unease and frustration, green eye glowering to the sky and to the ground.

He would occasionally hiss at the crafts hovering around the structure.

The helicopters circling the great steel edifice were too loud, too close.

So far below he could hear police and emergency services, hear their sirens blaring and people shouting though bullhorns.

Shouting orders to others on how to attempt to handle the situation.

It was too loud.

He couldn’t focus.

Couldn’t concentrate.

He growled and flicked another energy orb at a craft that got too close, just barely missing the spinning rotors.

“That one was awfully close, kid,” Plagg’s gentle voice counselled in this ear.  “I know they’re loud and annoying, but there are people in them, and you are not a killer.”

Chat Blanc exhaled hard.

“What your old man said was really low and uncalled for, I know.  His frustration doesn’t excuse any of it.”

The teen rumbled low.

“And he deserves that and more, I agree.  We’ll get back at him, but not like this, okay?”

Another growl.

“That could probably be arranged, for sufficient compensation of cheese, but I won’t let you do that.  If anyone will teach him a lesson it’ll be me… or Ladybug.  In all honesty, she’s more likely to beat me to it actually.”

And another growl.

“No, I’m sure Tikki would support her once I tell her what the old bastard did.  Tikki may not like violence or revenge, but you’re as much her kitten as mine and she is very protective of all our Chosen.”

And another growl.

“Uh, is that even anatomically possible?”

Chat Blanc snorted and launched another volley of energy spheres to police helicopters that had strayed too close.

“Okay, yeah, beyond the point.  Just keep the blasts at a safe distance from the choppers.  Last thing we want is a mob to be mad at you.  Paris mobs tend to be very ugly and fast.  Shouldn’t be long before Ladybug shows up to help.”

Plagg felt a tingle at the back of his mind.

Tikki was close, just off to the side.

He turned to a far corner and saw Ladybug standing in the shadows.

“Speak of the devil.”

The dark kwami quickly dashed towards her.

“Ladybug, thank the Maker!” he gushed, nuzzling under her chin.

She offered a quick cuddle before cradling him in her hands.  “How is he?”

“Unstable, but thankfully hasn’t let himself cross the line I know he wants to cross.  We’ve had interesting conversations about what he plans to do to Gabriel.”

“I’ll give him first crack since they’re family, but I’m certainly not letting him off the hook.”

“So you heard?”

“I heard.”

“So, what’s the plan here?”

“Both Tikki and Master Fu won’t let me kill Gabriel, but they never said anything against hurting him… a lot.”

The cat gave her a toothy grin.  “I knew I liked you.”

“But that’s for later.”

He gave her disappointed eyes.  “Aw…”

“You can come watch.  But for now, I need to get Adrien to calm down enough to be rational again.  You’re both coming back to the bakery and never going back under the same roof as that monster.”

“All for it.  But how are you going to get through to my kitten?  He’s not exactly rational right now.”

Blue eyes looked to her partner, resolute in her decision.  “I’ll reach him the same way I got through to him the first time.  Spots off.”

The magical spotted suit melted off her in a cascade of pink shimmers.

“Be careful, Marinette,” Tikki cautioned, both she and Plagg keeping to the shadows.

Marinette became very much aware in that moment of how dangerous the situation was to her now.  There were no guardrails on this girder, no security barriers to keep her safe should a bout of clumsiness hit her.  And without her suit, she had none of the protections the magical item usually offered.

She took a deep bracing breath and stepped out of the shadows, taking careful steps along the steel beam, Tikki offering reassuring and cautioning words with her each step.

“Adrien…” Marinette called out.

She saw Chat Blanc stiffen, whirling around in surprise to face her.  His expression was dumbfounded at seeing her there on the girder, cautiously walking towards him with eyes occasionally flicking down to her own feet.

It hurt to see the look, as if he never expected her there.

She looked at her feet again, continuing towards him.

“… Marrri…?”

She stopped long enough to lift her gaze to him, offering that smile that always left him feeling like the most blessed person in the Universe.

“Hi,” she greeted a little lamely.

*    *    *

Mylène and Rose gasped simultaneously as the others gathered on the ship let loose with various curses at the sight.  The news cameras from the helicopters were all fixed on the sight of a girl ever so carefully walking the length of a girder towards Chat Blanc.

They ignored the newscasters’ commentary, it wasn’t needed.

They could all see who this was.

“What the Hell does she think she’s doing?” Alya shouted at the screen.

“Something either very brave or very stupid,” Nino supplied, hat gripped between his hands and twisting in worry.

“Or both,” Juleka added.

Kagami shook her head at the sight.  “I am both afraid for her safety and impressed by this bold move.  This is nothing I would have expected from her.  Clearly I have underestimated her.”

“She has the ability to surprise people,” Luka huffed, his heart racing.  “How did she even get up there?”

“Maybe Ladybug dropped her off?” Ivan offered in explanation.

“You think this might be another one of Ladybug’s plans?”

“It’s how she reached Adrien the first time, using Marinette as a kind of… I don’t know, emotional anchor?  If it worked once, why not again?”

Alya was spluttering.  “But… but… but this is so dangerous!  Mari is such a klutz, could fall at any second!”

“Ladybug will never let her fall!” Rose protested.

“Rose is right,” Mylène added.  “We have to assume Ladybug and Chat Noir are nearby and waiting to help.  But if anyone can reach Adrien right now, it’s Marinette.”

This didn’t stop Alya from gnawing at the nails on one hand.

*    *    *

Green eyes, devoid of any influence from Hawk Moth or an akuma, just stared at Marinette for the longest time before it seemed reality finally set in. 

“… cammme…?”

The incredulity in his tone was not missed by the girl.  “Of course, I came, My Prince.”  She looked down to her feet to take a few more steps.  “I promised to be with you when you needed me, didn’t I?”

“… dannngerrr…”

She risked a glance over the edge of the girder to the ground so extremely far below.  “Oh, trust me, I know that all too well.”

“… nnno… mmme… dannngerrr…”

She froze and looked him straight in the eye.  He was afraid.  Marinette could see he genuinely believed he was dangerous.  Had there been anyone else there at that moment, she knew he probably would be unsteady enough to attack anyone, but it was just the two of them.

Her smile was tender, confident.  “I trust you, Adrien.  You would never hurt me.”

He looked at her with a mixture of amazement and adoration.

Her eyes fixed her feet again as she wobbled slightly.  “Me, on the other hand, I would most definitely hurt myself.  I… I’m more than a little scared right now.”

Chat Blanc blinked in concern.

And then he dashed towards her.

*    *    *

The group of friends on the riverboat held their collective breath, all having the same thought at the sight of Chat Blanc rushing towards Marinette.

They were sure the plan, whatever it was, had failed.

He was going to kill her.

*    *    *

Marinette showed no fear, arms reaching out to her partner and boyfriend as he rushed towards her.

She never had any reason to fear him.

She knew him better than anyone.

The moment he got to her, Chat Noir scooped her up ion his arms and plopped himself down on his rear on the girder, cradling the girl in his lap.  He pressed his nose to just below her jaw, a purr beginning to rumble in his chest.  Marinette’s hands dug through his hair, finding the base of his ears and rubbing them soothingly.

“It’ll be alright, Adrien,” she whispered, rubbing her cheek to the top of his head.  “I’ll fix everything, I promise.”

As if feeling something different, Chat Blanc pulled back slightly and reached for one of her hands, pulling her bandaged hand into sight.

She could see a myriad of emotions swimming in his eyes: anger, sympathetic pain, confusion.  Feline eyes rose to meet her eyes.

“… Marrri…?”

“No, I’m okay, Adrien,” she assured gently with a reassuring smile.

“… who… hurrrt…?”

Her smile became sheepish.  “Me, actually.”

The confused blinking look he gave her made him look so painfully adorable.  It took all her willpower not to grab his face and kiss him deeply.

She felt her cheeks flush hot at that thought.

She and Adrien had never kissed yet since becoming an official couple.

Not that they hadn’t shared pecks on the cheek or a kiss to the forehead or top of the head in all affection.

But no kiss on the lips.

She had to wonder what it would be like. 

Would it be tender and gentle like those sappy romantic movies Alya used to force her to watch during past sleepovers? 

Would it be deep and passionate like she often saw in her dreams?

Marinette noted he was still looking at her, waiting on an explanation to how she had hurt herself.

She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind for now.  There would be time enough for those thoughts later.

“I… I took the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous from… from him… and, while I was bringing them to Master Fu, I guess I didn’t realize how tightly I was holding them.”

He blinked at her in awe before staring down at her bandaged hand.  Chat Blanc nuzzled her palm, the move so heartachingly gentle and tender.  She allowed her fingers to curl slightly to brush against his cheek.  His purr returned, his arms tightening around her tiny form in order to cuddle her close.

Tentative and cautious of the transformed teen, the black and red kwami flew out of the shadows to join their Chosen.  Marinette almost went into a panic about them being visible to the circling media helicopters, until she remembered that kwami were not visible to modern cameras.  The reporters themselves were too far away to see them clearly and would no doubt chalk it up to a trick of the light or tired eyes.  Meanwhile there would be no recorded evidence.

Plagg landed on Marinette’s shoulder then, watching as Tikki flew into the boy’s line of sight. 

“Hello, Adrien,” the little goddess of creation greeted softly.

His eyes opened lazily and smiled at the tiny being.  “… Tikki…”

“I’m sorry you have to go through all this,” she began softly.  “I’m sorry he couldn’t be a better Father, the kind of Father you deserve.”

He mewled ever so softly at the sheen of tears in the kwami’s eyes.

With a near quiet sob, the red magical being pressed herself into his cheek, radiating as much positive and loving vibes as only the kwami of luck and creation could.  He leaned into the kwami, allowing himself to purr again.  Combined with the feel of Marinette’s hands carding through his hair in a very deliberate and soothing fashion, Chat Blanc could feel his earlier ire begin to ebb away and be forgotten, his eyes closing contentedly.

He started to feel tired.

He mrphed faintly and Plagg chuckled.

“Well, you could fall asleep here if you wanted to, kid, but that would mean Ladybug would have to carry you across the city like a sack of potatoes over her shoulder.”

The question rumbled in his throat as he looked to his kwami.

Plagg’s eyes went a little wide in indignation, Tikki joining him on her Chosen’s shoulder.

“What?  Did you think she would leave you here?  That she would send you back to that bastard who doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near you?”

Marinette’s hands gently cupped Chat Blanc’s face to stare into both familiar and powerful feline eyes.

“I would never do that to you, My Prince,” she assured.  “Never ever.”

A half whimper, half purr emitted from him, Chat Blanc’s forehead pressing to hers, both their eyes closing.  Threading her fingers through his hair, she lightly scratched his scalp.

“Mari protect Adrien,” she whispered.  “I promised, remember?”

He rumbled low in acknowledgement.

“And I will always keep that promise.  You are my best friend, my partner, the only one I love more than life itself.”

Chat Blanc whimpered, a sound that was barely there.  If it weren’t for their proximity, Marinette would have never heard it.

“Come home with me,” she breathed.

Bright green eyes opened to meet expectant blue.

There was no fear, no pity.  Only the deep-seated desire to help him, to protect him.

He looked to the helicopters when one passed too close to the Eiffel Tower, and then looked to the girl in slight worry.

Marinette smirked playfully.  “Are you trying to tell me that my Chat can’t outrun and out-maneuver a couple of media and police choppers?”

Chat Blanc snorted. 

He gathered her up in his arms and stood in one move.  Plagg and Tikki ducked into Marinette’s purse in order to be able to easily travel with the pair.

A helicopter hovered closer, illuminating the girder in a powerful spotlight.  For a moment, the light encompassed the pair, making them visible in the waning day’s light.

With one last growl to the offending craft, Chat Noir dashed off and out of sight.

*    *    *

Nadja Chamack looked on in a little bit of panic.

Shortly after arriving at the Agreste Manor, she and her crew had received word that the destruction was the result of the return of Chat Blanc.  Her mobile unit’s producer had immediately set up the monitors in their van to watch the live and inedited feeds from the media helicopters.  It hadn’t taken them long to track down the white feline.

She had gasped along with her crew, worried about the helicopter team each time those bright white energy orbs would glance by.

Nadja’s neatly manicured nailed had been completely ruined the moment she saw Marinette step into view. 

One of her fingers started bleeding when Chat Blanc had dashed towards the girl, relief flooding over the woman when he had merely cuddled the teen.

“Wait, no, where are they going?” she demanded no one in particular when Chat Blanc had disappeared from sight with the girl.

“The choppers don’t have eyes on them anymore,” one of the techs reported, listening intently to the radio feeds.

“So, that’s it?  We lost the story?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” a new voice announced, sounding incredibly confident.  “There could still be a story here… if you give it the right spin.”

The media crew all turned to the voice, finding a teen girl leaning casually on a nearby vehicle and scrolling through her phone.

Nadja frowned slightly.

She knew this girl. 

Marinette had warned her about this girl the day she had left Mano in Alya’s care and returned to find this teen telling stories of some kind.  The baker girl had told Nadja about this girl’s propensity to lie as easily as she breathed.

The journalist cast a glance to her crew in warning.  Having worked with these folks for so many years, such silent communications were easily understood.

“I’m not sure there’s much the former employee and ex-muse of Gabriel Agreste can tell me, Miss Rossi.”

Lila glowered at the woman, something Nadja took note of.

It was clear this child didn’t like to be reminded of her loss of status.  That could be dangerous.

Lila shook herself from the verbal jab and a cloyingly sweet smile returned to her lips.

“It’s a temporary situation, I assure you,” the girl declared.  “I am currently in personal negotiations with Agreste Design to regain my spot within the company.”

The mobile producer sitting inside the news vehicle looked on with a raised eyebrow.  “You are in negotiations with Agreste Design?”

“Of course!  I studied under many great business negotiators around the world, Nelson Mandela himself said I was one of his best pupils ever.”

Nadja held in the snort she so wanted to aim at this child.

For the last ten years of his life, the great Nelson Mandela did not receive anyone except the heads of state that were also his dear personal friends.  Casual visitors and other dignitaries had been turned away to lessen any stress on his failing health.

Which meant that Lila Rossi could have only met him when she was four of age or younger, hardly of age to study negotiation tactics and remember them.

One of the senior cameramen noticed the glance the producer and Nadja shared at that and took his cue from them, making a casual move as if checking his equipment when really, he was quietly turning on his camera where it hung near his knees, pointing it at the teen.

There was a story here, but probably not the one the girl was hoping to spin.

“I really shouldn’t give them the opportunity to work with me again, though,” the teen continued.  “Seeing as the entire enterprise will soon come crumbling down once the world learns of the Agrestes dirty little secrets.”

Nadja resisted the urge to frown at the all too offhand way she stated this.

There was the spin.

“You see,” Lila proceeded, looking down at her phone’s screen.  “Gabriel Agreste is very much into projecting a certain image of his company and his family to the world.  If they were to find out he was using a gold-digging teen to bolster his company’s brand and project it as a place where even nobodies could rise in the ranks, one can just imagine the fallout.  And it would be so much worse for his image as a powerful man if it were known that the very same gold-digger was beating him to get her way.”

“And I suppose you just happen to have proof?” the producer questioned.

Lila’s grin was just the right side of evil to cause a collective shiver to race up the reporting crew’s spines.

“Well…” she drawled.  “I just happened to be nearer to the emergency vehicles when I saw Gabriel Agreste talking to one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the girl he’s been promoting as Adrien’s girlfriend when it’s so clear to everyone that he is really and truly my boyfriend.  I started filming them since I was curious and I’m also a very concerned citizen.”

“How responsible of you,” the sound operator snarked almost too quietly for anyone to hear.

“Well, imagine my horror when I saw her punch Mister Agreste and then stand over him to demand some sort of payment right there on the spot.”

Nadja crossed her arms in skepticism.  “Really?”

“Truly!  I almost dropped my phone at the sight of it, but that would have alerted them that I was there, and Marinette might have attacked me.  She does that at school all the time, you know.  She’s stolen my necklace and pushed me down the stairs.  I almost broke my wrist.  It’s so terrible having to deal with such a bully.”

“I’m sure,” the producer muttered, not quite believing the story.

There weren’t many people left at TVi that didn’t know the name or face of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  They knew of her long before it became public knowledge that she was dating Adrien Agreste.  Her care in babysitting of the Chamack child was well known, Nadja making sure that the girl was a top-notch caretaker seeing as how well she controlled Manon.  And Marinette had babysat several other employees’ children as well, more than proving how reliable and capable she was.

In doing background checks on the girl once the story broke of her relationship with Adrien, TVi staff soon learned of her skill in designing clothing.  They found the online posts from Audrey Bourgeois, Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, and from several others commenting on her commission site.

The girl’s character was impeccable.

Not what Lila Rossi was trying to claim.

“I also have proof that Marinette is using whatever influence she has over Adrien to control him when he’s transformed.  Ladybug, who is my absolute bestest friend, told me that Marinette was actually controlling him when he was first akumatized, and not Hawk Moth.  Ladybug had to talk her down more than once from using poor Adrien against the city to get her way.  Did you know on his first photoshoot back, when she found out I was supposed to model with Adrien, Marinette actually goaded him enough to transform to attack me?  It was so horrible!  It was a fluke my phone recorded everything.  I just wish I could have gotten sound too, you would have all heard the terrible things she told dear, sweet Adrien to get him to change, and then her ordering him to attack me.”

“How incredibly lucky of you to have been in the right place and at the right time with your phone recording each time.”

If Lila noticed the disbelieving tone in Nadja’s voice, she didn’t show it.

“I have always been lucky that way.  My cousin, Anderson Cooper from CNN in the US, always said I could be an amazing journalist if I decided to follow in his footsteps.  He simply adores me, you know.  I could provide you with the videos… for a price,” Lila offered with a coy smile.

Nadja did frown this time.  “Of course.”

The producer leaned back in her chair in the back of the media van.  “And what is this price, should we decide to acquire your videos?”

“Oh, nothing huge, really.  A primetime interview to tell my side of the story for what happened with Agreste Design.  I mean, so far, no one has asked me why any of this happened, everyone has been taking Mister Agreste at his word.  And I guess I should ask for monetary compensation.  That is what most people ask for, isn’t it?  I would be comfortable parting with the footage for… say… one hundred thousand Euros?  Each.”

“We’ll have to discuss it with corporate,” the producer began, shooting a warning glance to Nadja not to counter her.  “Understand that if we do buy this footage, we will own all rights to it, and you will not be permitted to sell it to any other media outlet.  That’s TVi’s standard contract.”

Lila’s smile bordered on evil.  “If I sell it to TVi, I won’t need to shop it around.  Yours is the largest television station in Europe.  My window is twenty four hours before I start offering this to your competitors.  Toodles!” she waved ever so casually before walking away.

“I will not allow anyone to put any video disparaging Marinette on air,” Nadja warned the crew, protective fire burning in her eyes.

“Calm down, Nadja.  I’ll talk to corporate to buy it all, but I never gave that brat any assurances it would be aired.”

The journalist blinked.  “What?”

The producer shrugged, the barest of conspiring grins on her lips.  “We buy the footage the girl has… and then we bury it.  Look, we all know your babysitter.  We also know you would never allow someone like that brat was describing anywhere near Manon.  Two hundred thousand Euros seems like a small price compared to a possible lawsuit from Agreste Design and Monsieur Agreste himself should we air whatever fake news she has.”

Nadja’s shoulders sagged in relief.  “What about Miss Rossi’s request for an interview?”

“Well, primetime slots are in high demand for any news stories and television programming.  Finding a slot before this whole affair becomes nothing more than a distant memory might be difficult… at best.”

The sound technician began to grin as well.  “Not to mention that this is a FIFA year and Germany is hosting.  Programming will be booked up for months leading up to and a little past the games.”

The cameraman could barely hold in his chuckle.  “Also, it’s the International Rugby League’s championship tournament.  We’re only into the round robin.  That should eat up any free slots FIFA isn’t airing in.”

Nadja did chuckle.  “How very unethical of us to discuss this sort of thing.”

The producer smiled, spreading her palms up before her.  “A journalist walks a fine line between ratings and the truth.  Whereas this story could raise ratings through the roof, it is obviously not the truth.  Wish there was a way to know for sure what the truth is here.”

An air of illumination settled on the reporter’s face. 

There was a way to find the truth.

There was someone Nadja knew who could shed so much light on the entire sordid affair.

“I may know someone who could confirm a few things.”

Chapter Text

Sabine watched the news feed avidly, worried at what she saw, but also feeling ever so proud.

Proud that she had raised such a brave girl who selflessly thought of others before herself, to her detriment these days.  She would be remiss as a Mother if she hadn’t noticed her little girl running herself ragged some days to finish some project or another for school, or the long nights she put herself through for something or other.

Worried at seeing her in such a precarious situation of walking along a girder on the Eiffel Tower, worried that she was doing this to reason and attempt to calm Chat Blanc.  Marinette often did things that bordered on reckless, but it was because she cared about those close to her so very much.

It was so dangerous and so foolish.

If he should decide to attack…

If he should kill her…

Sabine mentally slapped herself in chiding at even daring to think such a thing.

Adrien.

This was Adrien.

He was under the continued and residual influence of a modified akuma, but this was still Adrien.

This was not a monster her mind or a few rare detractors were trying to convince her of.

He would never hurt Marinette; she saw that truth every time she looked into the boy’s eyes.  Adrien adored Marinette, to a surprising degree.

She smoothed her hands over her apron decidedly. 

He would protect her Daughter, no matter what.

Teen or akuma victim, it just wasn’t in him to hurt her.

Her fingers twisted into the edge of the fabric.

But it didn’t help her anxiety not knowing where he was taking her in order to protect her.

Tom appeared at her side, wringing his hands together, clearly feeling the same level of nervousness as his wife.  She knew he was feeling useless and hopeless.  Marinette was their only child, their miracle when so many doctors had told them conceiving would be impossible.

So, it was only natural that Tom was extremely protective of his little girl.

If he had to cancel an order because his wife became too tired during the day or his Daughter caught the sniffles, then so be it.  He put his family first in everything.

And it was just as natural that he was as worried as Sabine was when they both saw Chat Blanc and Marinette disappear from sight.

“Where… where’s he taking my baby girl?” he demanded the screen.

She could see him holding himself back from grabbing the screen to shake it for answers.

Maybe he was a little more worried than Sabine.

“I think… it’s probably the helicopters,” she voiced carefully, eyes on the footage still airing.  Then, at his confused look, “It’s… it’s like in those King Kong movies.  With all those helicopters flying close all around the tower… and I have to think maybe Chat Blanc… Adrien… is a little frazzled from all the forced attention…”

Tom took on an air of understanding.  “He went to find somewhere a little quieter where he could think.”

“Where that is in the city?  I really couldn’t guess.  I’m sure there are any number of places they could hide in.”

He nodded slowly.  “True, there’s any number of old and empty buildings across the city, buildings no one lives in anymore, warehouses abandoned and empty.  Doesn’t really make me feel any better about this.”

Sabine sat on the edge of the couch in thought.  “Last time he was akumatized, he protected her and never hurt her, though I think that was part of his akuma personality.  We know Adrien would never ever hurt our Marinette, he loves her too much to do that.”  She heaved a breath.  “All we can really do is wait for any word from either of them, or the Heroes of Paris.”

“I have to think this is part of their plan like last time, to calm him down with someone he knows and prevent him from destroying just the Agreste Manor.”  Tom suddenly glared fiercely at the television screen.  “And if I find out this was Gabriel’s doing that made him transform, I will wring his skinny little neck!”

“Get in line, dear,” Sabine tittered.

“Yeah, I don’t suppose the number of people that want a piece of that man is small.  Can’t get to where he is without stepping on quite a few individuals.”

“And that’s several decades worth.  Though nothing is stopping us from doting on Adrien once this whole terrible situation with that strange akuma is fixed.  He’s more than earned it.”

He began to chuckle softly.  “What was it you said, dear?  Get in line?  I think that particular line starts behind Marinette.  Did you know she has gifts prepared for him for the next fifty years or so?”

“In the trunk she keeps in the back corner of her room?”  She chuckled.  “Yes, I saw them.  The dear boy will be on the receiving end of more love than I’m sure he’s ever received.  Hope he’s ready for it.”

What sounded like something dropping heavily reverberated through the floor above them, followed by a quick scuffling moving towards one corner. 

Both adults stared at the ceiling, going completely still and quiet as they listened to the sounds of movement when that room was supposed to be completely empty.

Whoever was up there was trying to be quiet, but was failing miserably.

Tom signalled to his wife to remain silent as he quietly retrieved the large rolling pin he had left in the kitchen all those weeks ago.

If this was an intruder, a paparazzi, merely looking for information to compile a story on the recent happenings with Adrien, they would soon learn that breaking into the Dupain-Chengs’ home and their Daughter’s bedroom no less would be the worst mistake they would ever make in their lifetime.

Tom crept towards the steep stairs leading up to Marinette’s room, mildly aware of Sabine, now armed with a long broom, a few mere steps behind him. 

He didn’t try to stop her. 

Knowing her upbringing back in Shanghai, he knew better than to try to talk her out of anything, especially if it involved their Daughter.

He crept up a few steps, each move careful and calculated to create the least amount of noise possible.

Tom became aware of a voice speaking softly and ever so gently in the room beyond.

It took him a moment more to realize it was Marinette’s voice.

And it suddenly clicked in his mind.

He rushed the last few steps, silent still, putting the rolling pin down just within the door to make it clear it would not be used as a weapon if anyone beyond noticed him.  Sabine followed suit, coming to the same realization as her husband, letting the broom she had taken as a weapon fall back to the main floor below.  It barely made a sound as it fell, landing on it’s bristles.

The room was dark, illuminated only by the screen saver cycling on the computer monitor on the desk.

The little bit of light showed Marinette was kneeling on the floor next to the desk that extended under her loft bed, speaking softly in coaxing to something or someone cowering under the desk.

Bright green eyes glowed from the safety of the shadows, wide and filled with wary caution and some fear.

“It’s okay, Adrien,” Tom heard his Daughter soothe the cowering boy.  “You’re safe here, you’ll always be safe here.”

Shifting his weight, one of the stairs creaked beneath the large baker’s feet, alerting both teens of his presence.  The green eyes narrowed, lowering closer to the floor as Chat Blanc crouched down in a defensive move.  Marinette turned just enough to see her parents in the doorway, waiting patiently for her guidance.

With Adrien transformed into Chat Blanc, and lacking any sign of the Heroes of Paris, Marinette was the expert in this situation.

Marinette was thankful it was just her parents.  Knowing her friends, knowing Alya, chances had been pretty high that their classmates would have gathered in the small apartment to await any news of the situation.

She held a hand out to her parents, silently advising them to wait for now.

“Look,” Marinette told the boy as she turned back to him.  “It’s Mama and Papa.  It’s Tom and Sabine.  They would never do anything to hurt you, Adrien.”

Sabine took this as her cue, slowly entering the room to come kneel at the base of the column supporting Marinette’s loft bed.  She smiled gently, patiently at the cowering form under the desk.  Tom followed her lead and kneeled just off to the side, close enough to protect her should the need arise.

Part of him knew Adrien would never attack him or his family, but an equally vocal part of him reasoned he still needed to be on guard… just in case.

There had never been an akuma victim like him before.  Who knew how this kind of situation affected the mind.

Smiling as only a Mother could in order to reassure, Sabine reached her arms out to the hiding teen.

“My poor, sweet boy,” she cooed softly.

The glowing eyes dilated in reaction, a cat sign that he was relaxing from her gentle call.

“You’re safe here, Son,” Tom added, following his wife’s lead.

The eyes dilated some more.

“Mama and Papa protect Adrien,” Marinette voiced ever so softly.

Hesitant movements slowly brought the white feline out from under the protection of the desk, verdant eyes darting between the adults as if trying to determine if the situation was safe.  He paused next to Marinette, looking to her for confirmation while keeping a wary eye on the others in the room.

Marinette offered him a tender smiled, running a reassuring hand through his hair to lightly scratch his nape, her movements confident and unafraid.

This seemed to bolster Chat Blanc’s courage somewhat and he crept towards Tom and Sabine’s outstretched hands.  He kept his body low to the floor just like a fearful cat would do when approaching someone or something they were unfamiliar with.

Tom held one of his hands out close to his wife’s to allow Chat Blanc to get acquainted with both of them at the same time.

Sabine resisted the urge to twitch so much the boy’s breath tickled her fingers as he sniffed at them.

It was a very feline move.

Recognizing the scent, Chat Blanc headbutted their hands to rub against them, eyes closing as a purr rumbled in his throat.

They were not a danger to him.

He knew them.

“… Papa… Mmmammma…” he rumbled softly, a loud purr sounding in his throat.

With a suppressed giggle at his antics, Sabine lightly scratched along his jaw line in all affection, Tom ruffling the boy’s hair in a firm pet.  The transformed teen melted from the attention, curling himself into the older woman’s lap, hands kneading at the air in contentment.

“What happened to you, my dear child?” she murmured.

“It was Gabriel,” Marinette harshed, keeping her voice low.  “He’s been using that girl from our class, Lila Rossi, to make Adrien’s life a living Hell… well, more of a living Hell than usual.  It’s why he got akumatized in the first place.  And tonight, what I understood is he got frustrated with his lack of progress in his research to reverse the effects of the akuma and he took it out on Adrien.”

Something clicked in Tom’s mind, overtaking the growing rage at what he heard.

Gabriel Agreste had used someone to make Adrien highly emotional and vulnerable. 

There was only one villain in the city to whom this would be beneficial.

Gabriel Agreste was doing research on the akuma that had affected his Son. 

Again, there was a very scant number of people who could possibly know about akuma or how to find documents that spoke of them.

“Gabriel Agreste is working with Hawk Moth?” he voiced aloud.

Marinette seemed to hesitate, seemingly debating her next words, before sighing heavily.  “Gabriel Agreste is Hawk Moth… at least he was.”

Both adults stiffened in shock.  “What?” the questioned in unison.

“He’s not a threat anymore, he and Mayura’s wings have been permanently clipped.”

“How can you be so sure?” Tom questioned.

“I took their Miraculous.”

Sabine hummed in disapproval.  “Those are some very dangerous gems for you to keep, Marinette.”

“No, no, Mama, I took them, but don’t have them with me, it’s okay.  I know how dangerous it would be to keep them here.”

“So, where are they?”

“I… I gave them to Ladybug so she could take them to someplace safe.  I… I heard her mention a great guardian once, so maybe she took them to whoever that is… for safe-keeping.”

Marinette felt a lead weight settle in the pit of her stomach.

She hated lying to her parents, even about this, but she justified it as being for their own good.  They didn’t need to know everything about this aspect of her life.  They didn’t need to know what Adrien’s alter ego was, they didn’t need to know that she was Ladybug when danger struck the city.

They could know about Hawk Moth though.

He was no longer a critical danger. 

He could still be a problem with the money and power he still possessed, but that was something they could deal with later.

After all, Marinette was aware of only four people who knew Hawk Moth was Gabriel Agreste.

Five if you included Mayura.

Who that person was, that was still a mystery, but she was also powerless now.  Her Miraculous was with Great Guardian now.

Marinette cast a glance up to her loft bed, noting the gazes of both the Ladybug and Black Cat kwami.  There was no disapproval in their eyes from what she had revealed to her parents.  The tiny magical beings understood that she needed to say something to those around her, knew she had to touch on the truth while not revealing anything.

A delicate dance they knew Marinette hated to perform.

“So, all this was Gabriel’s doing?” Sabine’s voice cut through the girl’s thoughts, drawing her back into the moment.

Marinette paused again, a barely perceptible moment.  “He’s been building to the moment he akumatized Adrien for a while, it seems,” she admitted.  “He said he wanted to create an akuma he could control completely and he thought Adrien would be perfect, but Adrien doesn’t let his emotions control him too easily.  So Gabriel used Lila to finally break him.  I’m pretty sure he had a hand in that photo Lila took in Adrien’s room.”

The older woman looked down at the oblivious boy resting against her lap, a look of pity and concern vying for dominance on her face.  She settled for cuddling him as only a loving Mother could.  Adrien didn’t need to be exposed to anger and frustration right now.  He needed care and attention, affection he was obviously being denied when at Agreste Manor.

“You poor, sweet boy,” she whispered.

Chat Blanc’s only reaction was to rub his cheek to her leg, arms and legs making cycling motions as if seeking more attention and pets.

Marinette saw the expression on her Father’s face darken, his gaze turning towards the hatch leading down to the apartment.

“I don’t care how long the line is, I will cut in and completely destroy that sad excuse of a human being,” he growled, barely managing to keep his tone even so as not to frighten Chat Blanc.  “Bet you anything he’ll try to spin this to make himself out to be the victim.  He’ll say it was all Hawk Moth and he was just some innocent civilian caught in the cross-hairs.  And he could actually get away with that lie since no one could offer proof he really was Hawk Moth.”

“He… actually… won’t be saying much for the next little while,” Marinette supplied timidly.

Both adults looked at her expectantly at this comment.

She twisted her fingers nervously under their scrutiny, suddenly unable to look at either of them.

How would they react from the news?

She was their little girl, she wasn’t prone to violent fits… ever.

“When… when I confronted Gabriel about what he did… before I took his and Mayura’s Miraculous off him… there’s a good chance that… I might have… broken his jaw?”

The adults blinked, processing the statement.

What must they be thinking of her now?

Despite how much she truly believed Gabriel had deserved it, and she was relatively sure her parents thought the same now knowing what kind of a monster he truly was, she didn’t know if her parents approved of what she had done.

She thought she heard the tiniest of whines, but she attributed it to Chat Blanc demanding attention.

Then there was a stunted snort.

Marinette allowed herself to look at her parents.

To say she was surprised to see them both seemingly fighting so hard with themselves not to laugh was the biggest of understatements.

And her confused expression was their breaking point.

While Sabine was more reserved in her laughter for the sake of the feline in her lap, Tom was rolling on the floor in a full out belly laugh.

The teen risked a glance up to the hidden kwami. 

They were as confused and intrigued as she was.

“Oh, what I would’ve given to see the look on ol’ Gabe’s face in that moment!” Tom wheezed, struggling to pick himself off the floor.

It took a few minutes for him to recover properly from his laughing fit, dropping to the floor again each time he took a look at his Daughter.

The thought of his tiny little girl decking stately and intimidating Gabriel Agreste was just too hilarious.

“I didn’t want to hurt him!” Marinette protested, feeling mildly insulted that her parents were enjoying this so much.  “I… I just got so mad knowing what he did to Adrien…”

Sabine gracefully wiped away her laughter induced tears with her fingers, offering a sympathetic smile to her child.

“We know, dear, we both know how much you care for Adrien.  It’s just this is the last thing we ever thought you would be capable of doing, especially to the man who you used to idolize.”

“I stopped idolizing him a long time ago,” she ground, noting Chat Blanc’s eyes opening to look at her. 

She held her arms out to him and his reaction was instantaneous.  He left Sabine’s lap to crawl over to Marinette, butting his head under her chin and leaning heavily against her.  Her arms wrapped around her boyfriend, momentarily burying her face into the back of his neck.

“I’m also not letting Adrien ever go back there.  I just can’t.”

“No, that’s understandable,” Tom agreed.  “I can’t let him go back to living with Hawk Moth either.  That’s too cruel.”

“Then he’ll stay with us,” Sabine determined.  “Though we might have a legal battle if Gabriel decides he wants Adrien back.”

“Think he would?”

“I wouldn’t put it passed him.  He’s a man used to getting what he wants… which is why I think he gets into these bad moods so often when he constantly loses to Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

“The day he wins, he’ll be insufferable,” Tom growled.

“Never going to happen,” Marinette assured.  Then, at their expectant looks, “I… I have to think that Ladybug and Chat Noir will never give up.  There’s just too much at stake to just let him win.  And without his or Mayura’s Miraculous, it’s even more difficult for Gabriel to even remotely come close to winning.”

“Not knowing what he intends once he gets their Miraculous, or what getting them both could possibly do, I tend to agree,” Sabine nodded.  She looked to Chat Blanc, running a hand down his back.  “Have you eaten, honey?” she questioned him.

Lazy feline eyes looked to her for a moment before he shook his head in negative.

“Well, we were making some dumplings and buns earlier.  Getting them all ready should only take a few minutes.  Would you like that?”

He seemed to perk up at that.  “… dummmplingsss…?”

Sabine chuckled.  “I’ll take that as a yes.  Tom, come help me.  You two can stay here for now, we’ll call you down when it’s ready,” and she shooed her husband towards the trap door, both descending out of sight.

Plagg and Tikki floated down from the loft bed to hover near the teens.

“I always did love your parents, Marinette,” Tikki praised with a smile.  “Always accepting, always easy going…”

“With a mean revenge streak,” Plagg chuckled.  “I want to be there when your Dad gets his hands on Gabe.  He was impressive when he was akumatized, but I figure the real him must be a terror incarnate.” 

“I’m more worried what her Mother will do if she gets to him first.  Remember, it’s the quiet ones you have to be worried about.”

The dark kwami tilted his head in consideration before nodding in agreement.  “This is true.  I mean, pigtails here is a good example of it.  Wish I could have been there to see you sock the old man.  Did he cry?  Did he whimper like a baby?”

Tikki began to giggle.  “He was in too much shock to even react properly.”  Then, as if catching herself, her tiny paws clamped over her mouth, blue eyes going wide.  “Oh, I shouldn’t be enjoying any of this!”

Chat Blanc huffed derisively.

“Maybe, but that doesn’t make it anymore right of me,” she countered, understanding the white feline.

He began to sniff the air, reluctantly pulling away from Marinette to move towards the trap door.  His interest was piqued by something below, and by how he was sampling the air, it wasn’t hard to know what it was.

The girl chuckled lightly, ruffling his hair affectionately when she moved to his side.

“Chat or Adrien, your stomach is your true weakness,” she accused tenderly.  She turned to the kwami.  “I’ll bring up some cheese and cookies later for you two.”

Chat Blanc looked up at Marinette from his deep crouch at the door, eyes wide in asking, ear cautiously flat to his head.

“You can go downstairs if you want.  It’s okay.”

His ears perked up, eyes looking down to the main floor.  He seemed to be evaluating how he was going to descend the steep stairs.  Green eyes darted up and down the steps repeatedly.

Going down head-first on such an angle was mildly precarious.  His centre of balance was closer to his chest and could cause him to tumble down, faceplanting into the floor.

Not an attractive prospect.

Standing like a human didn’t feel particularly comfortable at the moment, and in his mind, it left him open to any possible attack.  Not that he truly expected one to happen, but small as the chance was it was still a chance he couldn’t risk.

The final method held the most promise.

Coming to a solution, he turned enough to go down feet first, keeping curled onto himself as he went.

Through the stairs he spotted the two adults in the tiny apartment kitchen busy preparing pans and steamer baskets at the stove.  The small island counter already had place-settings ready for the four of them.

Sensing eyes on his back, Tom turned to find the hunkering Chat Blanc watching them from a few steps out of the bedroom, eyes wide in wonder and worry that he was doing something wrong. 

The large man smiled as if nothing was.

“Hello there, Son.  Smell something good?”

Chat Blanc made a show of sniffing the air and licking his lips.

Tom laughed.  “On that, we can agree.  Come have a seat, we’re almost ready.”

But the transformed teen hesitated.

The baker’s smile softened, carefully waving him forward.  “It’s alright, Adrien.  This is your home, too.”

Slowly, after a moment of hesitation, Chat Blanc crept down the stairs, staying low to the ground as he approached the kitchen island.  Marinette was only a few steps behind him, enough to reassure him, but not crowd him.  Pulling out one of the chairs, Chat Blanc again hesitated, looking to each person in the room.

It was as if he was asking permission to sit there, to see if this was acceptable or if this was the reserved seating for someone.

“Go ahead,” Sabine urged, setting a platter of steamed buns on the island.

His feline caution made climbing into the chair awkward, but he succeeded eventually.  Marinette sat his side, a hand lightly scratching his shoulder in support.  Tom and Sabine approached the remaining seats, platters and steamer baskets in each hand to complete the spread for the meal.

“Eat, dear, eat, don’t be shy,” Tom encouraged.  “As much as you want.”

It didn’t take much more than that, and the mouth-watering scents wafting from the myriad of dishes, to convince Chat Blanc to dig in with gusto and feline prudence.  He would quickly snatch a number of pot stickers from one platter to stuff into his mouth, chewing rapidly before grabbing for a few steamed buns to do the same.

He half expected to be chastised for eating as he was, and so much.

But the more time passed and the fact others in the room never once commented on his antics, the more the tension in Chat Blanc’s shoulders relaxed.

The conversation was mostly about what would happen now, how the Dupain-Chengs would fight to keep Adrien out of an obviously abusive household, how they would rearrange the small apartment to accommodate Adrien staying with them for however long he could.

Even in his altered mind, Chat Blanc could feel this was a good thing.

He was starting to feel much more comfortable now.

There was good food in his belly with as much as he might want available to him, and no one to tell him to stop because he was possibly overeating and risking altering his weight enough to no longer be able to fit in the clothes he had to model for the label.

No one was yelling at him for one reason or another, or calling him or his actions a disappointment, regardless of how he memorized the rules imposed on him.

There was only warmth and love.

Once coiled muscles loosened with each passing moment.

He never noticed his eyes drooping.

He never noticed his head dropping slightly.

A dumpling halfway to his mouth, Chat Blanc toppled over off the chair.

He never touched the ground as Tom moved faster than what would seem possible for his size, catching the now unconscious boy as he fell.

“It’s alright,” Marinette assured to her parents’ worried questions.  “Ladybug told me these transformations probably take a lot out of him so when he starts to revert back, he would be completely drained.  It was the same thing during his first photo shoot.  Eating should keep his energy up, but Ladybug said his qi would need recharging too.  She said maybe energizing incense would help.”

Sabine took on a pensive air.  “I think I have some orange flower, peppermint and rosemary incense sticks.  Should we burn some while he’s asleep?”

“It couldn’t hurt.”

“We’ll set him up on your chaise for tonight and figure out a more permanent sleeping arrangement tomorrow,” Tom instructed, carrying the teen towards the stairs.

“I’ll clean up here, go,” Sabine told her child at the near distressed questioning look on her face.

Marinette dashed after her Father up into her room.  She retrieved a couple of pillows and some blankets from her closet while Tom carefully set the boy on the chaise.

“Oh, my!” he exclaimed at the sight just as his Daughter returned.

Ashen blond hair was spun gold once more, pale skin having taken on a rosier hue.

Gone were the hints of fur.

Gone were the cat-like ears.

Where Chat Blanc once existed now lay an unconscious Adrien Agreste.

All signs of his transformation, of his feline persona, were gone.

He merely looked peaceful in his unconscious state.

Marinette sighed a relieved smile.  Carefully, she tucked the pillows beneath his head, making him as comfortable as possible, before draping the blankets over his body. 

Sabine entered the room then, pausing in surprise from seeing Adrien where there had once been Chat Blanc.  She mentally shook herself and set about her task. 

She pulled a small side table closer to the chaise, setting a sand filled brass bowl on it.  Into the sand she planted three incense sticks, carefully lighting them.  Each burned with a bright flame before they were snuffed out, the sticks smouldering steadily, smooth tendrils of scented smoke drifting to the ceiling.

Peppermint and rosemary glided on the air.

She then approached the sleeping boy, threading her fingers gently through his bangs to move them away from his eyes.

“I guess there’s nothing left, but to leave him in your care?”

“We’ll be okay,” the teen assured with a smile.

With a pause, they bade goodnight to their Daughter before leaving the room.

Marinette kneeled at Adrien’s side and just watched him sleep.  The tiniest of frowns creased his brow.  Had she not known him as well as she did, she would have missed it.  But she had gone to school with him, hung out with him every so often, fought akumas at his side, and all this for close to a year now.

She knew him.

In his unconscious state, his mind was still working to make sense of the last few hours, processing everything he had experienced leading up to and after his transformation.

Mildly noticing the kwami floating near her shoulder, Marinette reached over and smoothed her thumb gently over the tiny frown. 

A soft sigh escaped his lips, turning his face in her direction.

“He should sleep until morning,” Tikki voiced, her voice sounding loud in the quiet of the room.

“We’ll watch over him, Spots,” Plagg directed to the teen girl.  “We’ll wake you if there’s anything we can’t handle.”

“I feel useless,” Marinette admitted.  “There’s nothing I can do to help him.”

The dark god huffed.  “You’ve done a lot more than you think.  If it wasn’t for you, Gabe would have taken control of him and used him to destroy the city to look for Ladybug and Chat Noir, little realizing he had just akumatized Chat.  You kept him grounded, I just translated.  And all these times afterwards, it was you keeping things from spiraling out of control.”

“Plagg is right, Marinette.  If it wasn’t for you, if you hadn’t loved him as much as you do, both Adrien and Chat Noir would have been lost to Hawk Moth.”

Carefully, Marinette got to her feet and tucked the blankets more warmly around Adrien’s shoulders.  She smoothed a hand through his hair, resting her palm to his cheek.  He barely reacted to her touch, finally lost to exhaustion.

“It’s hard not loving him,” she voiced.  “Which is why I can’t understand Gabriel treating him this way.”

“The old man is fixated on something unattainable,” Plagg supplied.  “He’s so focused on getting his wife back that he’s forgotten that he still has Adrien in his life.  I’ve seen this so many times, in my kittens and in people who thought the impossible was just a wish away.”

“I have to believe his wife wouldn’t have accepted this,” the red kwami added.  “That she would have accepted a life being sacrificed for her.  How would Gabriel react if she shunned him after learning what he did?  That he terrorized the city just to get two Miraculous gems off of teenagers charged in fighting him?”

Plagg shrugged.  “I think he’s gone off the deep end and these are things that just don’t register anymore.”

“All the more reason for him to never go back,” Marinette concluded.

Tikki nodded solemnly in agreement.  “Master Fu said he would have the final elements he needs to cure Adrien in the next few days.  It will no doubt be hard if Gabriel decided to fight to get Adrien back, on Adrien and you.  I’m sorry, Marinette, this is another burden to have to shoulder.”

“For Adrien, gladly.”  She leaned over the sleeping boy, bringing her lips close to his ear.  “I love you,” she whispered tenderly.

“… mmm… love you…” he responded in his slumber.

She smiled at him momentarily before finally pulling herself away to get ready for bed.

*    *    *

Chloé Bourgeois was getting bored.

She hated waiting.

Waiting meant you weren’t considered important to whoever was making you wait.

Waiting meant the other or others thought you beneath them, that their time was better spent doing something else than having the planned meeting.

This is why Chloé never waited for anything in her life… except now.

She absently flipped through her social media accounts on her phone, sighing heavily as if making her boredom obvious would magically cause those they were waiting on to appear.

Alya Césaire smirked at her.

“I did tell you that you didn’t need to tag along,” the aspiring reporter verbally jabbed.

“And miss my chance to further sink Rossi, and publicly?  As if!  When did Nadja Chamack say she would get here?”

“She’s usually really punctual so she should be here any second now.”

“Wonder what it is she’s looking for on Rossi.  Nothing good ever comes from the media mixing with that brat.”

Alya shrugged.  “She said she was looking to confirm a few things.”

“And she wanted to meet you here of all places?” the blonde derided, turning her nose up at the cheap looking little café on the tourist strip of Paris where they were currently seated.

Never in a million years did Chloé ever believe she would stoop to this.  The tourist areas of the city were not what she was used to.  They were geared specifically towards Americans and others looking for the romance and the glam of Paris, but it was all so commercial and watered down.  The street seemed to be lined with American style fast food and little shops with kitsch souvenirs.

There was no sign here of the good places.

No real bistrots, no real cafés, no high-end boutiques that didn’t carry commercialized brand names.

It was so pedestrian!

Alya looked down at her own phone.  “If you wouldn’t come here willingly, do you really think Lila would want to be here too?”

“True.  If there is one thing I will grudgingly agree with Rossi on, it’s on this area of town.  It’s so… so… peasant!”

“All the more reason to meet here.  No chance Lila will show up and try to spy.”

“Alya!” a voice called from a little ways off.

Both teens looked up to find TVi’s lead reporter quickly navigating the crowd towards them.  Stopping next to the table, Nadja took a moment to catch her breath, and then sat in one of the empty chairs once she was composed again.

“Thanks for meeting me here, Alya, but I didn’t know Miss Bourgeois was also coming,” and she gave Chloé a puzzled glance.

“Césaire told me you wanted to discuss things about Rossi,” Chloé sniffed.  “I was not going to miss any fresh dirt on her.”

“Fresh dirt?”

“Oh, you really don’t know the half of it about her.  Took a while for Césaire and the rest of the class to wake up, but they eventually came around to see everything I was seeing.  Dupain-Cheng and my Adri-kins saw right through that girl’s lies as well.”

“So, you both know?”

Alya leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.  “That Lila lies as easily as she breathes?  Yeah, we know.”

“Then I guess I’ve come to the right people about all this,” and she sat at the table.

“What happened?”

“You no doubt saw the incident at Agreste Manor?”

Chloé huffed a short chuckle.  “The whole world saw that with the amount of television stations that showed up.  What about it?”

“My crew and I were watching the feed from the choppers at the Eiffel Tower when Miss Rossi approached us with an offer for a spin for the whole story.”

Alya frowned.  “A spin?”

“Listening to her, it was hard to think how she could even believe what she was telling us.  There were just enough bits of truth that, had we not known the real truth, we might have believed her.”

The Bourgeois teen looked interested.  “What exactly was she offering?”

“She wanted us to report that Marinette was nothing more than an opportunistic teen being used by Mister Agreste to bolster his family and company’s image as being magnanimous to up and comers while she used this to her own advantage.”

Chloé almost laughed.  “Pot, meet kettle!”

“She also made sure to emphasize that she was actually Adrien Agreste’s girlfriend, and that Marinette was bullying her at school, beating her and stealing from her.  I can’t imagine Marinette doing such things.”

“Dupain-Cheng is incapable of hurting anyone in any way, and I’m actually the reason for that,” Chloé admitted.  “I made her life such a nightmare all through our school years together that she would never even dare to emulate me.”

Alya nodded.  “Completely agree.  Marinette hates bullies and liars, there is no way she would ever be one herself.”

Nadja sighed heavily in reassurance.  “So then her offer of a video of Marinette beating up Gabriel Agreste is probably fake too?”

The auburn teen winced, noting Chloé hesitating at responding as well.

“Um, actually, given current events from within the last few weeks, I wouldn’t put that past her.”

The reporter blinked.  “Oh?”

The Mayor’s Daughter shifted in her seat to sit up properly.  “Mister Agreste is the reason for a lot of what happened to poor Adrien.  From what we’ve learned, he’s been using Lila as a way to put more restrictions and controls on him.  It’s why Adri-kins was akumatized, he was finally pushed too far with that whole flagrant délit lie Rossi was trying to pass off to everyone.”

“It’s no secret how much Marinette loves Adrien, so finding out that Mister Agreste made Adrien’s akumatization possible, if she somehow found out that this recent event was his fault again, I wouldn’t put it passed her decking the old man.”

Nadja nodded, absorbing this information.  “That’s fair.  Honestly, placed in a similar situation, I probably would do the same.”

“Rossi said she had video evidence of her claims?” Chloé pressed.

“She offered to sell it to the station.  My producer is making arrangements to buy it right now.”

“You can’t release that!  It would ruin my Adri-kins, not to mention Dupain-Cheng’s too!”

“We’re not planning to release it, but we’re also not letting her shop it around to, let’s say, less scrupulous stations.”

“What did she say it was?” Alya queried.

“Supposedly it was Adrien’s first transformation after being de-akumatized and how it was Marinette who caused it to attack Miss Rossi.”

Chloé scoffed.  “Please!  I know what happened since Adri-kins could never keep any secrets from me.  Rossi wasn’t supposed to be at that shoot and she made threats against him and Dupain-Cheng.”

“She also had a video of Marinette punching Mister Agreste.  We do have proof that he did go to the hospital and his jaw is now wired shut to let it heal.”

Both teens stared at the women, eyes owlishly wide.

“Marinette broke his jaw?” Alya heard herself question.

Nadja shrugged casually.  “So it would seem.”

The teens blinked once.

Twice.

Sweet, meek Marinette had mustered enough anger and strength to break a grown man’s jaw? 

Or did Gabriel Agreste have a glass jaw?

“Césaire?”

“Yes, Chloé?”

“Remind me to never let Dupain-Cheng ever become my enemy.”

“You and me both, girlfriend.”

Nadja smirked ever so slightly at them, at the look of utter shock their sported from the news.  “You said you had information on Miss Rossi as well?”

Recovering, Alya squared her shoulders.  “How much time do you have?”

“That much?”

“From the moment Rossi arrived in Paris, there hasn’t been a single thing from her mouth that’s been even close to the truth,” Chloé informed.  “On her first day at Francoise Dupont she tried to make several claims to a lot of people, each claim tailored to whatever the conversation was about at the time.”

“She told Nino, my boyfriend, that she had ties to several music and movie producers, and she could put them in contact with him.  She told others she personally knew Jagged Stone or Clara Nightingale or Prince Ali, that they were her close personal friends.  She even told me she was best friends with Ladybug.  That should have been my first clue.  She had just arrived in the city; she didn’t have time to meet Ladybug yet since there hadn’t been any akuma attacks yet.”

“She also told my Adri-kins that story.  Supposedly, her heirloom necklace she claims Dupain-Cheng stole was a Miraculous.  As if!  I was Queen Bee; I know about Miraculous gems.  If that cheap piece of costume jewelry was a Miraculous, then where was her kwami?”

Nadja looked at her quizzically.  “Her what?”

“Her kwami.  Remember the bee I had with me during the fashion show where my Mother was akumatized?  That was Pollen, my kwami.  They join with the Miraculous to give the wielder their powers.”  She looked at Alya.  “It helps to have someone who knows about the Miraculous when Ladybug isn’t around.”

Alya gave her a mock suffering glare.

If only Chloé knew.

“But these are only some of the lies she’s told at school,” the blonde continued.  “We’re working on compiling a pretty substantial list to bring to her Mother and the school authorities.  Daddy will act the moment I tell him to and make sure all her lies are known far and wide.  We can make sure to send you a copy of our list in case, you know, you need ammunition against the lying little brat for whatever reason.”

Nadja looked slightly overwhelmed at the information he had just received.  “I knew about the attacks this girl was doing against Marinette.  She is my babysitter, after all, and Manon loves her, so I keep track of what Marinette is doing from her online presence.  I just never thought Miss Rossi was this… this…”

“Crooked?  Devious?  A lying snake?” Chloé offered.

“Is she doing all this just for status?”

“Status, power, prestige…  So far as we can tell, yes.  And she shown herself capable of going to some pretty impressive extremes to ensure her continued rise.  She broke into the Winter Gala recently, and that whole incident that got Adrien akumatized started when she broke into Agreste Manor.  I’ve known my fair share of stalkers and social ladder climbers; this is right up there with a number that I’ve gotten arrested.”

“One has to ask why she hasn’t gotten arrested yet herself.”

“Césaire and I are aware that Mister Agreste and a number of the big names Rossi has waved around are building their own case against her.  Making that air-tight takes time, unfortunately.”

“We have it on good authority too that the Tsurugi family is building a slander case,” Alya added.

“My guess, it won’t be too much longer before everything comes crashing down around Rossi.  I want to hope by Christmas so we can all ring in the new year with a clean slate.  We’ve suggested to all of them to maybe pool their resources to ensure the biggest possible result.”

“This… this is intense,” the journalist marvelled.

“She brought this on herself,” Chloé dismissed.  “We have a certain standard at Francoise Dupont and lying to her degree is not acceptable in the least.  She brings down all of our reputations with her stories.  And I, for one, will not have my name dragged through the mud just so she can have her fifteen minutes of fame.”

Nadja cocked her head.  “So this is a personal vendetta that you have against her?”

“No, no, not at all,” Alya countered.  “This is for Marinette first.  She tried to tell us, to warn us about Lila, but a lot of us were too awestruck to listen.  And this is for all the celebrities and high placed families Lila has claimed to have ties to.  Her lies are hurting them, I see that now, and could result in a lot of damage against them and their reputations.”

The TVi reporter leaned back in thought, looking to both teens as if evaluating them.  “Miss Rossi asked for an interview as part of the condition of sale for her videos.  We can stonewall her for a while, but a large part of me is tempted to allow one.”

Chloé huffed.  “For the ratings a scandal could cause?”

“No, more like baiting her.  If she’s so sure about herself, she won’t expect leading questions where there’s really only one real response she can give: the truth.  Anything else she could try to answer would be obviously an attempt at deflection.  Does she get flustered when countered?”

“She turns on the waterworks and claims to be a victim of whoever is pushing back against her lies.”

“That, or she manages to twist the lie slightly to cover up the fact she’s being called out,” added Alya.  “She’s also pretty good at turning any conversation to herself, to make herself the centre again.”

Nadja hummed softly, tapping a finger to the tabletop, eyes fixed on a spot in thought.  “We’ll need carefully crafted questions… and we’ll have to be careful to stay on script no matter what.”  She raised only her eyes to the teens.  “Can I use this information to create an interview scenario?”

Chloé smiled at the women.  “Looking to help topple her castle before it gets too big?”

“From what you’ve just told me, and from what I know myself from her attacks on Marinette, I can’t just sit by and let her continue.  I would be just as guilty as if I was the one spreading her lies.  Like I said, my station is buying her videos.  I want to see what she has, and what she has to add about them, and then I’ll see how I want to proceed with an interview.”

“You probably would need to have the Agrestes in on this so you can use any comments from them to counter claims,” Alya suggested.

“The assistant, Nathalie Sanscoeur, could be useful for that.  I’ll get in contact with her to set something up with Mister Agreste… possibly when his jaw is healed enough.”  She pursed her lips.  “I’m not so sure I want to use them though if it turns out Mister Agreste was responsible for setting all of this with Lila into motion.”

“For Adri-kins sake, we can ignore all of that for now,” Chloé counselled.  “No one needs to know those details.  Besides, seeing as Dupain-Cheng broke his jaw, I seriously doubt Mister Agreste will be so willing to try anything more against her or Adri-kins.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”  Nadja smiled at the girls then.  “Thank you both for meeting with me and providing me all this information.”  She stood.  “You gave me a lot to consider.”

“If you need anything more, you know how to contact either of us.”

A curt nod from the woman and she walked away.

Alya heaved a breath.  “You think she’ll help us?”

“No doubt.  The one thing you can always count on with the media is their desire to be the first to break a story.  And this would be a doozy.  Former muse of Gabriel Agreste manipulates friends and employers for her personal climb to fame.  It’s a pretty damning byline, but it guarantees sales and attention.”

“Nothing more we can do with that then.”

“Don’t worry, there are a lot more avenues we haven’t even looked into yet.  This one is merely on pause.”

Down the sidewalk, Nadja Chamack swiftly crossed the street to a waiting van, quickly climbing to the passenger seat.

In the driver’s seat, her producer looked at her expectantly.  “So?” she prompted.

Nadja sighed heavily.  “This rabbit hole is a lot deeper than any of us first thought.  We do need to buy that video, but for a lot more than just to keep Marinette’s name from being tarnished.  Dear god, that child is a terror to hear those two describe her!”

“I know, we heard through your mic.  This is all starting to sound like some bad soap opera.  I’m half expecting to see Maury Povich jump out of an alley somewhere and turn this into a seedy drama.”

“Any news on the purchase?”

“The station just arranged to have payment transferred to the Rossi girl.  I don’t like the fact we’re ignoring that she’s not including her parents or legal guardians in any of this.  This smacks of future legal issues.”

“Which makes me believe the adults in her life are as much victims as everyone else we’ve heard about.  Have the researchers found anything on her?”

The producer pulled out her phone, thumbing to a screen.  “Italian, fourteen, Daughter to a single Mother who’s a Diplomatic Aide at the Italian Embassy, nothing notable.  There was mention of the Italian Police looking to speak to Rossi about a case they were working on, but no details on the case or what they need from her.”

“I think it might be important to know that.”

“I already told them to dig it up.  Hard to believe a teenager is at the center of all this.”

“Well, in the absence of Hawk Moth, all of the issues in the city are now more visible.  Kind of makes you wonder if Hawk Moth was involved in this too seeing as how quickly he targeted the Agreste boy and how quiet he’s gone now that everything is hitting the fan.”

“Time will tell.”

Chapter Text

Comfortably lounging on her chaise, Marinette smiled down tenderly at the form nestled against her belly.  Adrien’s arms were wrapped firmly around her waist, oblivious to the world as he slept soundly, the mix of a purr and a snore rumbling softly in his throat. 

He did that a lot since his last transformation that Friday.

Wanting to cuddle more.

Staying near her every waking moment.

Snuggling against her when she was working on an idle project, like knitting or crocheting, and falling asleep almost instantly.

Mostly it was sleeping.

Marinette chalked it up to perhaps having been sapped of so much energy during his last transformation, his body was doing everything it could to replenish itself.  The incense helped some, but there was no way of knowing how much energy had been expended.

It was a scary thought, imagining how such a transformation had stolen so much of his strength, and what could have happened if she and her family had not found a way of calming him enough to force him to transform back.

Would he have slipped into a coma?

Would he have died?

It terrified her.

Thankfully, it would only be a few more days until he would be cured of this.  Master Fu had sent her the link to the shipping tracker for the last component he was waiting on, and she checked her phone regularly to ensure everything went smoothly.

Another bit of good news was how silent the Agreste camp had remained since the day before.  Gabriel had not spoken to the media and, since they didn’t know where Adrien was, the media had not tried to contact her or her family.

That, or they did and her parents had shut them down quite indignantly.

That actually wouldn’t have surprised her if that was the case.  Her parents were just as protective of Adrien as they were with her.

Favoring her boyfriend one final smile and gentle threading of her fingers through his hair, Marinette returned to her knitting.  It was her latest project: a thick cable-knit sweater in a deep, dark shade of teal in the most amazingly soft yarn she had found.  It made the loops a little difficult to work with, the smooth yarn slipping under her fingers, but the effort was worth it.

This would be a gift for Adrien, one where there would be no awkward stuttering or fidgeting as she gave it to him.

It had to be warm and comfortable.

It had to feel like a hug.

She wanted him to feel every ounce of love she had for him and that she poured into this project.

The little he had told her in the last few weeks, about the life he had lived under Gabriel’s thumb since the loss of his Mother, made this gift all the more warranted.

It amazed her to no end knowing that he had endured so much neglect and abuse at the hands of a man she had once idolized.

It amazed her even more knowing that, despite all this, he had resisted becoming bitter and jaded towards the world.  Adrien had remained sweet and kind and pure, regardless of the daily Hell his Father put him through.

Marinette growled to herself.

How could she have ever admired Gabriel Agreste?

Ignorance truly was bliss.

Just across from her she could see their kwami on her desk.  Tikki was dozing on some folded laundry while Plagg played with a balled-up end piece of yarn, allowing his cat self out.  Marinette chuckled quietly at the sight of the tiny god of destruction acting like such a kitten.  It was adorable and endearing, and she would never tell him that since she knew he had a macho ego larger than the Eiffel Tower.

Just as she smiled at how cute the kwami was, she heard a near quiet whine from the boy lying against her.

She craned her neck to be able to see Adrien’s face, noting with some concern the frown on his sleeping features.

Was he having a bad dream?

A nightmare?

Carefully, she set her knitting down, one hand tenderly threading through his hair in an attempt to soothe away the dream.  The last thing Adrien needed was to accidentally transform from a nightmare.

The frown on his face deepened.

Marinette could feel the tension in his shoulders and arms building.

Lightly, her fingers scratched the back of his neck.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he bolted up to a seated position, eyes wide in fear, breath ragged as if he had been running flat out.

Green eyes darted about, as if he was trying to remember where he was, before finally alighting on her.  And it was as if all memories came flooding back, his shoulders sagging heavily.

She felt the shift in him before she even saw the distress in his eyes.  Scooting herself closer to him, Marinette gathered him up in her arms to hold him tight.  Adrien’s breath shuddered in a heavy exhale.  He clung to her almost desperately, face buried into the crook of her neck.

So she just held him. 

He needed time and calm at that moment; prodding was not something that was ever needed.

Adrien stared at nothing as he waited for the emotions from the dream to fade, mildly aware of Plagg and Tikki watching him.  In his kwami he could feel a sense of rare sympathy, the little being knowing what it was his Chosen was going through since he had been witness to it all.  In Tikki, there was a feeling of Motherly consideration, not knowing the extent of his plight, but knowing enough that it left a scar on the boy’s soul.

The teen remembered his nightmare in vivid detail, a curse he had acquired many years ago to be able to remember fine details.  It helped during his modelling stints since the directors and photographers didn’t need to repeat instructions, but this unfortunate skill bled into his daily life.

He could remember unpleasant details of Lila all but draping herself all over him.

He could remember each and every promise his Father had ever broken.

He could remember every detail of his Mother…

Adrien’s arms tightened around Marinette, a trembling breath escaping his lungs.  Her fingers carding through his hair helped steady him, but only a little.

“I’m sorry…” he near whispered.

“For what?” she countered.

“For… for being such a mess… for being emotional…”

Adrien’s eyes screwed shut, anticipating the reaction that had been so ingrained into his psyche from years of being told it was wrong and unbecoming.  His Father had done a pretty thorough job of reminding his Son that an Agreste had to be perfect, stoic, never let their emotional side show lest people try to take advantage of a soft nature.

He should have known Marinette was nothing like his Father, but it was hard to go against years of conditioning.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she assured.  “Be a mess.  Be emotional.  No one is allowed to tell you otherwise.”

He snorted and she understood why.

Only one man in the city was convinced he could control Adrien’s emotions.

Not anymore.

Marinette allowed herself a frown.  “He’s not here and, if I have any say in it, he’ll never be allowed to tell you what to do ever again.”

“He might try to get me back.”

“He can try, but the line forms behind me to stop him, followed by Papa, Mama, Nino, Alya, and Chloé.  If he thinks he had problems before with just the two of us, wait until he has to deal with those five as well.”

“I’d be terrified to see what your Mother and Alya could do.”

“And that would be only if I leave anything for them to do anything.  It’ll depend on how I’ll feel on the day I decide to kick his ass into the next galaxy.”

He pressed closer into her arms, revelling in the feel of her cuddling him ever so tenderly.  Adrien wasn’t immune to feeling how she often treated him like a cat, but he certainly wasn’t complaining about the attention.

He also noted how she didn’t ask about his dream.

Of course, she wouldn’t.

She would never press him or make demands on him, and that’s what he adored about her.  They had spoken so often since their reveal about his home life before and after the loss of his Mother, and they had both come to a realization:  His isolation had not been anything new.  It had just seemed less pronounced with his Mother there.

Or maybe he had just imagined it was.

But he had never been to school, nor had there been any discussion of him ever attending school.

His days had always been full with modelling, private tutoring, fencing, racket ball, swimming, piano, acting lessons, dancing classes…

Looking back on it all, he honestly couldn’t remember a time where his days hadn’t been planned out for him, where he wasn’t told he had to do this or that.

Adrien stared at the floor.

She would be curious to no end about his dream, but would never ask  She had the right to know what had affected him so much.

“Everyone was there… in my dream… every single person who ever used me for their gain…”

Marinette’s fingers were light against the back of his neck.

“Show directors, photographers, Mother, Father, Nathalie…  They were all yelling at me… all at once… to get me to do whatever it was they wanted me to do... no matter what it was, I was expected to perform…”

“What were they asking?” she asked carefully, ever so softly.

A small frown creased his brow, organizing his thoughts.  “Father had his usual demands: modelling, practices, lessons, and whatever he felt like demanding of me at that moment…  Nathalie was repeating his demands, but all out of order to him, adding her own in the mix…  Mother was there demanding things like I was still a child, speaking down to me like I wasn’t old enough to understand, like she was convinced I was going to disobey… and—”   

She let the rest of his sentence hang there.  Marinette knew he didn’t want to talk about it.  He wasn’t used to talking about his feelings and his fears.

So, she didn’t press.  If he wanted to continue, she would allow it to be his decision.

She merely held him, carding her fingers through his hair.

“Rossi was there too,” he finally growled, disgust thick in his voice. 

He missed the surprised look from his partner, and the scowl that soon replaced it.

The Italian couldn’t leave Adrien alone for a moment, haunting even his dreams.

“She wanted… she was demanding I be with her and not you… She was being disgusting in her demands… they were all yelling over each other, louder and louder… it got to a point I couldn’t make out what anyone was saying anymore…  There were hands all over the place, grabbing at me, pulling me this way or that…  I knew you were nearby, it’s almost as if I could feel you there, but I couldn’t find you…  I needed to find you…”

“I’m here, Adrien.  I’ll always be with you, My Prince,” she whispered tenderly.  “That’s a promise.”

The tension that had built up again in his shoulder released at that.  That one affirmation from her made everything suddenly better.

She promised.

Neither Marinette nor Ladybug had ever broken a promise to him in either of his personas.

She was the one constant in his life he had always been able to rely on.

“I wish I had met you sooner,” he sighed into her shoulder.  “Maybe my life wouldn’t have been such a mess had you been in it long before now.”

Her smirk went unnoticed.  “I wonder, would you have been as impressed by klutzy Marinette than you were with post-Miraculous Marinette?  Would you have noticed the ordinary girl before she became a superhero?”

“You were and are anything but ordinary, My Lady,” he countered.  “Nino said you were, and I quote, crazy awesome from sixième to now, moreso now.”

He felt more than heard her chuckle at that.

“He’s right, though,” he continued.  “On the first day, even if I didn’t realize it, I was pretty smitten when you yelled at me.  If our earlier first meeting had been anything like that, we would have been married by now.”

“You would have had us married not long after Stoneheart.”

“Chat and Ladybug were meant for each other.  Just like Marinette and Adrien.”

She toyed with his hair gently, the softest and most honored smiled on her lips from his admission, a blush coloring her cheeks.  A near year long wish she had dreamt to one day become a reality, a hope beyond hope that had fueled many of her days.

To hear him admit to it too, it was more than she had ever imagined having in her life.

“Not that I deserve any of it,” he mumbled so low she almost missed it.

Marinette blinked, noting both the kwami bolting into the air.  No doubt those magical beings had heard Adrien.

“What makes you think you’re undeserving?” Tikki questioned in all concern, flitting over to float in the boy’s line of sight.

Plagg nearly vibrated as he hovered in the air, an aura of rage surrounding him.  “It was the sad excuse for a human you call a Father, wasn’t it?  It’s his fault you think like this!  That’s it!  I am melting his face off!”

While Adrien was quick to sit up, it was Marinette who managed to quickly reach out and snag the little being’s tail before he could fly off and act in his anger.

“As much as it would be interesting to watch you dishing out your righteous fury on that… person,” she spat the last word in disgust, “… it actually won’t fix anything.  If anything, it might make things worse.”

“How could it possibly make anything worse than it already is?” Plagg near shrieked.

“Think, Plagg!” Tikki countered.  “The Agreste Manor was half destroyed.  Everyone saw Chat Blanc do it.  Everyone knows Chat Blanc is Adrien.  Who do you think their first suspect would be if Gabriel Agreste suddenly shows up dead after all this?”

This made the tiny god pause.

So many times in the past, he had acted for the welfare and wellbeing of his kittens.  He had to admit, he had done it rather rashly too, in the midst of deep anger towards those who had acted against his Chosen.

But none of them had even been in the same position, in the public eye as much as Adrien.

Plagg growled in exasperation.  “Things were so much easier during the French Revolution.  You wanted to get rid of someone and it was as simple as blinking back then.”

“Believe me, Plagg, I appreciate the sentiment.  Really, I do,” Adrien admitted.  “But Marinette and Tikki are right.  And Chat Noir would be useless to Ladybug if he was in jail.”

Plagg huffed.  “Like there’s a jail in existence that could ever hold us.”  But then he deflated with a resigned sigh.  “Too bad.  I haven’t melted someone’s face in a really long time.”

Letting the little god fly from her hands, Marinette turned her attention to the boy with her, concern glowing in her eyes.

She hadn’t forgotten the comment that spawned Plagg’s reaction.  He had said he didn’t deserve any of it.

Any of what?

Affection?

Attention?

How far had Gabriel beat Adrien down all these years?

“Adrien,” she called ever so gently.

Only his eyes darted to her for a brief moment, a move she saw.

“You don’t really believe what Gabriel has been telling you, do you?”

Briefly chewing the inside of his cheek before exhaling heavily, silently coming to the decision that it was better to be open with Marinette.  She was his partner, his better half after all.  She needed to know.

She had a right to know what she was getting herself into if she decided to stay with him after learning just how broken he was.

“You hear it several times a day, every day of your life, and you find it hard to believe anything else.”

A near growl escaped the girl.  Marinette looked to Plagg, a determined look written all over her face.  “Once everything settles down again, you have my permission to go melt his face.”

The tiny god cheered as both Tikki and Adrien protested the permission.

The model looked to the teen next to him, a mix of horror and questioning on his face.

“I’m tired of everyone letting every crappy thing he does just slide without consequence,” she voiced in frustration, understanding the silent question.  “For over a year now, he’s been terrorizing the city as Hawk Moth.  Before that, he was a total failure as a Father to you and, now I see, as an employer too.  Especially for everything he’s put you through: all the cancelled moments you had hoped to spend with him; all the times he punished you for no reason at all; all the times he isolated you when all you wanted was just a little affection or time with your friends.  It’s not fair that he gets away with all of it.”

He allowed himself a small wry grin.  “You broke his jaw, I think that counts as some punishment.”

“It’s not enough,” she huffed.  “He’s been getting away with too much for too long, as Hawk Moth, but as Gabriel long before that.  You so much as told us, told me, over and over again.  Little bits and pieces…  We should have been able to piece all of it together…  I should have seen the signs.”

“You didn’t know that Chat Noir and Adrien were one and the same… and Adrien-me wasn’t very forthcoming with what was going on at home.”

“Chat was.  There were so many times you said life at home wasn’t the best, hinting at what was going on.”

“But I was purposefully trying to be vague so you wouldn’t know who I was.”

“Still… I should have been a better partner and seen what you were going through...”  She growled more to herself in frustration.  “Should’ve, would’ve, could’ve.”

Adrien wrapped an arm around her shoulders to tug her close, his forehead pressed to the side of her head.  “You’re beating yourself up for not caring enough, when you already care more than anyone else I know.”

Marinette’s shoulders sagged slightly.  “I just… It’s not fair that he’s going to get away with all of it, and no one but us, my parents, and Master Fu will ever know he’s Hawk Moth.”

“Knowing your parents, Father may just regret ever trying anything.”

“Maybe…  And, I guess, regardless of whether they know he’s Hawk Moth or not, our classmates will be lining up to beat Gabriel’s to a bloody pulp once they find out what he’s done to you.”

“So you see, he’s not getting away with very much, if anything at all.”

“I guess…”  She turned enough to wrap her arms around his waist, face pressed into the side of his neck.  “You put up with so much…  I don’t think I would ever have been so strong.  You deserve… everything.”

He wrapped her in his arms in return.  “I have everything, My Lady.”

Vaguely, the teens heard Plagg snort from the sweet scene they made somewhere off to the side, the light tinkling of Tikki’s giggle barely masked by her paws.

“Had I known they’d turn into a sappy chick flick on a daily basis, I would’ve never pushed so hard for a reveal,” Plagg griped softly, shoving a piece of cheese into his mouth.

“So, you do admit you were going against the rules all this time,” Tikki teased.

The small god gave her a suffering glance.  “I am a god of destruction and chaos.  Going against the rules is what I do.”  He looked over to where the teens were still cuddling with each other.  “The more the Guardian imposed rules on my kitten, the more I needed to fight it.  You know the real reason why though.”

Tikki offered a tight smile.  “Because of his Father and the rules already imposed on him.”

“Chaos wants freedom, it needs it.  There wasn’t any room for any iota of chaos or disorganization in his life as it was.  So I decided to give him a taste of it by forcing the issue.”

“For the sake of being honest, with them, this was the first time in several millennia that I resented the rules.”

Plagg looked at his counterpart in a little surprise.  “Yeah?”

“It does get tiring always being so careful and turning our Chosen away from the clues that would make them reveal themselves.”

He chuckled.  “And there were many.  Good thing these two were so clueless.”

“But they need this,” she concluded.

“Yeah, though I could do without the gooey sap they’re oozing.”

She giggled lightly.  “As if you didn’t enjoy this as much as I do.”

He sniffed, turning up his nose at Tikki.  “I admit nothing.”

This only made her laugh.

*    *    *

Luka Couffaine had spent most of the day trying to determine where the music was coming from. 

Since the beginning of the day he had heard a mesmerizing melody floating on the air, sometimes getting stronger, sometimes waning to a bare whisper, but he had yet to figure out where it was coming from.

From the looks of his friends and family’s faces, he was the only one hearing it.

This either meant he was going insane, or this was someone’s personal soul music he was hearing.

But who was this person to have such an amazing song?

The only time a song has entranced him so much had been with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  Her song had been universal and had felt like an ever warm and loving blanket wrapping around him.  It had been comforting and caring and loving, so much more than should have been possible from just a teenager.  It was what had enamoured him first with her, even if it clashed with his own heart song.

Yet this new song he heard from someone yet unknown was more.

How was this possible?

The probability that someone’s song could capture him even more than that of Marinette was miniscule, Luka was sure of it.  And he had been prepared to pine away for the rest of his life for a girl he would never have.

Just after his last delivery of the day, the heart song rose in crescendo.  Whoever this was, they were close now.

Luka looked around to orient himself.

The park was off to one side, empty.

A few cars rolled by on the streets, but the song didn’t come from any of them.

Just ahead he could see the Dupain-Cheng bakery, but the song didn’t come from there.  He could clearly hear the intertwining melodies that were Tom and Sabine, woven together in perfect harmony and drifting from the bakery floor.  Higher in the building he could hear the song that was uniquely Marinette’s.  Muted and creating a kind of base tune to her song, the Couffaine teen could hear the song he had learned belonged to Adrien.  Both songs mixed and complimented each other, soothing and relaxed.

So the model was visiting the girl. 

After what had happened at Agreste Manor the day before, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise.  The girl had a positive affect on Adrien, and he was a stabilizing force in her life.  And honestly, he didn’t really believe Adrien would go back to a half-destroyed house.

No, he was better off at the Dupain-Chengs’ place, having heard the horrors stories about Gabriel Agreste.

Luka had to smile.

Marinette deserved a boyfriend who was attentive, just like Adrien needed the attention Marinette could give him. 

What that he wished he had been that person.

As hard as it was for him to deny it, Luka had to admit they were a perfect match.

But all this musing didn’t tell him where the other intoxicating music was coming from.

He looked to Collège Francoise Dupont just across from the empty park.  The music was strong here, a sharp staccato that swirled with power and determination.

It was a siren’s call that had him climbing the stairs into the school before he even noticed.

Just beyond the open doors he could hear the sound of metal striking metal interspersed by small cries of effort from people as yet unknown.  Crossing the threshold, he finally saw what was occurring: a fencing practice.

Vague he remembered hearing Adrien mentioning that there were after school practices for a fencing school held in the courtyard of Francoise Dupont.  Wasn’t too hard to connect those dots.  This had to be the school Adrien belonged too.

But if Luka had heard the model’s heart song coming from the Dupain-Cheng bakery, was the teen skipping his practice?

Luka smirked.

Testing his new limits with his Father, no doubt.

The Couffaine teen skirted the edge of the courtyard so as not to disturb those practicing within, an intrigued eye on the skirmishing pairs and the small groups of new members learning how to spar.  Walking amongst the pairs walked a tall and stern looking man, the school’s head trainer by all appearances.

Everyone was dressed in white, from their meshed masks to their flat soled shoes.

All, except for one.

One of the more aggressive fencers wore red body armour, making them stand out in the field of white.

And that was where the heart song was coming from.

This lithe fighter’s moves were as fluid and powerful as the tune Luka heard surrounding them.

It was also strangely familiar.

The tune resonated deeply within himself, coming temptingly close to harmonizing with his own heart song.  Invisible chords plucked softly to create something powerful and reminiscent of traditional Japanese music…

Luka blinked.

Oh!

The red-clad fencer stopped, having won the set, and removed the mesh mask.

What he already suspected was confirmed.

Tsurugi Kagami.

It explained why the music had drawn him in so completely, intrigued him enough to capture is attention to this degree.

For the days after their initial meeting at the Grand Paris, Luka had done a little soul searching.  This girl had greatly affected him in a short amount of time, possibly more than Marinette had.

As much as he had been truly and definitely drawn to the baker girl from his Sister’s class, fascinated by her soul song and the apparent contradiction of meek and strength she exuded, there was something about Kagami… something he couldn’t quite place, but it was also something he wanted to know more about.

Walking back to the end of the piste to unhook the electronic score keeper from her suit, Kagami noticed the musician from the corner of her eye.

And her heart fluttered.

Nani? she questioned herself.

Why had had her heart reacted that way?

She wasn’t sick.

The flutter didn’t hurt or make her feel ill.

In fact, it had felt kind of… nice.  Thrilling, even.

But why had it even happened?

She wasn’t tired.

There were most probably no environmental factors that could have caused it.

It had happened when she had noticed Luka watching her fence.

Her mind flashed to the shojo manga she had been reading lately and her spine snapped ramrod straight.

It was a textbook case!

Well, not exactly textbook since manga were comic books after all, but there was no denying the signs were all there.

Mā…

Not one to hesitate in the face of any situation, Kagami did a sharp ninety degree turn and walked up to a now stunned Luka.  She allowed herself a satisfied smirk at being able to throw off any confidence those around her might have when encountering her.

“I did not expect to see you again so soon, ongakuka,” she greeted, slightly amused at his surprised expression.

“I…”  Luka paused at the crack in his voice, watching her try very hard not to giggle at his struggle.  He cleared his throat, composing himself.  “I was following a melody that’s haunted me all day now…”  He favoured her with a smirk then.  “Kenshi.”

Kagami blinked in surprise.

He had called her swordwoman.

Was he challenging her own tease from a moment ago?

Well, now, this would be interesting.

No one had ever dared to challenge her before, even in jest.

This Luka Couffaine was definitely proving to be an interesting boy.

“Following a melody, myūjikkuman?” she questioned.  “Are there travelling bards in the area?”

“No, no, nothing like that, nothing anyone else would hear.”  A timid aura seemed to wrap itself around the boy.  “I think… I think I was following you.”

A flush warmed her cheeks for some unknown reason.  “Following me?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, a move Kagami noted seemed to be a re-occurring trait of the teen boys in Paris.  At least for those she had encountered so far.

“Um, do you remember back when I got you to play hooky and we went to Euro-Disney?  I told you about my… ability to hear music in others.”

“Hai, I remember.”

“Well… since this morning I… I’ve been hearing music.  A very specific tune, one I couldn’t ignore even if I wanted to.  I’ve actually been following it all day while doing my deliveries.”

“And it led you… to me?”

He gave a helpless shrug, holding up his palms to say it was the only possible answer.

“Your gift sounds confusing, Luka-chan,” she admitted, leading him towards a rack where she sheathed her foil.  “While it must be quite amazing hearing all these different musical tunes from people, learning their true nature before they can even speak, the fact that these same tones can compel you to seek out its owner must be… disconcerting.”

“It can be,” and he suddenly smirked, “… but I don’t mind it today.”

Kagami returned the smirk, pursing her lips.  “You are adept at being disarming, Luka-chan,” she accused.

This won a chuckle from the boy.  “Only when motivated.”

“And you are motivated?”

“It’s growing.  Would I be too forward to ask what Kagami-chan is doing later this week?”

“You would be, but I won’t hold it against you.  Actually, I could use the company later this week during a classical chamber music concert Mother insists I must be present for.”

“Another of these character and connection building moments?”

“You would not be wrong.  Usually during these musical interludes, I take the time to meditate, or I am forced to avoid the unwanted attentions of the Cambodian Ambassador’s eldest Son.  He always seems to be at these events when I am also in attendance.”

She didn’t miss the frown that twitched his brow.  “That’s much more than a coincidence.”

“I agree.  Perhaps if I show up on some gentleman’s arm, he may start to see I am not interested in his advances.”

Luka chuckled again.  “Ah, so I’m nothing more than a distraction for you and a discouragement for him.”

“No, no!  I didn’t mean it in that way, I swear!”

But he laughed.  “I know, Kagami-chan, no worries.  It’s been a long time since I’ve been to classical music concert, I would be honoured to be your escort for that evening,” and he offered a slightly flourished bow.

She felt her cheeks warm all the way to the tips of her ears.

A sudden thought occurred to her just then.

Every time she had ever seen him, Luka had always dressed for comfort and without a care for what others thought of his appearance.  Ripped jeans and a hoodie over a T-shirt.

What would he look like after he cleaned up for a formal event?

The image of him looking quite dapper in a suit flashed before her mind’s eye.

At that moment, Kagami was certain.

She was doomed… in a good way.

*    *    *

Sitting as comfortably as he could in his plushest wingback chairs moved into his bedroom, Gabriel Agreste felt both pain and anxiety as he let the day’s light filter through his window and warm him.

In the distance he could hear construction crews at work, hired on to clear away all the debris from the Chat Blanc attack and begin the reconstruction efforts to restore that side of the manor.  It took the better part of a day, but the debris was now cleared. 

Masons had come in to examine the stone works and determine the quality of marble that would be needed.

It would be expensive, there was no doubt in that.  Yet the masons had been confident that the work could be started right away to prep the surfaces for the high-grade Italian marble.

Luckily, the destruction had spared the floor so the elevator leading down to Emilie’s tomb had not been discovered.

None of these pieces of good news did anything to relieve his pain or the feeling that all Hell would break loose yet again.

He sighed heavily, carefully maneuvering a painkiller between the gap between his teeth in order to be able to swallow it, a small space doctors had left to allow him to eat and drink on his own without having to move his jaw.

Who knew such a frail looking teenager could deliver such a devastating blow? 

He definitely would never under-estimate her or anger her to this point ever again.  One of the few reasons he hadn’t tried to get his Son to come back to the manor from where he was staying with the Dupain-Chengs.  That, and he was not willing to chance her Mother’s temper.

Besides, Gabriel knew his Son would be well cared for and protected from the media, so there was no hurry to recover him yet.

Also, who knew a wired-shut jaw could be so painful?

It left him wondering how some of his past classmates of old ever got out of their fights without such injuries.  Though, given his age now, perhaps that was a factor to his current situation.

Not that he would ever admit to anyone that he was getting old.

He was mature… like a fine wine.

“Have you taken your painkiller, Sir?  It would be about time,” Nathalie announced as she walked into the room, eyes fixed on her ever-present tablet.

Gabriel held up his pill bottle and gave it a rattle.

“I have tried contacting Adrien,” she continued.  “He is ignoring texts and calls to his phone, and I dare not call the Dupain-Cheng household.”

He huffed, picking up his own tablet on the small table next to him and typing a quick message into it.

Nathalie’s tablet pinged on receipt.

I don’t expect Adrien to willingly talk to either of us after his last transformation, but we know where he is, so communication is not a priority.

“Yes, Sir.  I do have to wonder if his kind nature will ever look passed these events.”

Another ping.

He is too much like his Mother to hold this against either of us.

“True, but Miss Marinette is not above that.”

Gabriel paused at that, rubbing his lower lip in thought.

Nathalie was right, of course.  The young lady cared a good deal for Adrien, he had felt that clearly through the Butterfly Miraculous when it had still been in his possession.  The amount of affection she carried for the boy was impressive.

And, from the state of his jaw, she was willing to defend Adrien from anything and everything.

Another ping.

She would have made an amazing akuma.  I regret not having tried harder to turn her when I could.

“I have to believe she might have been the first to break her own akumatization.”

Another ping.

Possibly, unless Miss Rossi antagonized her enough beforehand.  Is she still trying to make contact with us?

“Yes, Sir.  Despite the protection order, she is sending multiple messages per day to all of our accounts that she knows of.  She is convinced she did nothing wrong to merit Agreste Design shunning her as it has, and she has taken quite a risk by threatening blackmail.”

Gabriel looked to his assistant, raising a curious eyebrow.

“It is against Agreste interests rather indirectly, but can still reflect badly against you and Adrien.  She has made a claim of having very damning video evidence against Miss Marinette using Adrien in his transformed state as her personal hitman.  And she claims to also have video of Miss Marinette attacking you after Adrien’s last transformation and demanding payment of some sort on the spot.”

Gabriel frowned and typed quickly.

Did she made any mention of what I handed over to Miss Marinette?

“No, Sir.  I don’t think she knew what you handed over, that they were our Miraculous gems.  She has claimed that she sold it to a television station already with the promise of an interview where the video will be played… unless Agreste Design takes her back, makes a public apology of this being all some huge misunderstanding, and you force Adrien to cease his relationship with Miss Marinette and only frequent her in the future.”

The fashion mogul snorted in derision, typing a new message.

Another ping sounded on Nathalie’s tablet.

How very pretentious of her to demand such things when she is not in control.  Do we know which television station?

“Yes, Sir.  TVi has contacted us for comment and possible participation.”

He paused again.

As always, TVi was proving rather commendable in contacting his camp regarding purported reports on his family affairs.  Though, past threats of legal action were probably more to blame than a sense of decency.

But those supposed videos, that Lila Rossi was claiming to have, were disconcerting.

What exactly did she see and record?

Did she know he had handed over the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous to Miss Marinette?

If she did, what more would she demand to keep quiet?

If she didn’t, what payment did she think was given?

The Sanscoeur woman’s tablet pinged again.

Relay to TVi Miss Rossi’s blackmail attempt, this will help erode the young lady’s credibility with them.  As well, let them know that we were not made privy of these videos and we would like to view them prior to any comment.

“Very good, Sir.  I would like to note that Miss Alya Cessaire and Miss Chloé Bourgeois appear to be organizing some sort of campaign to expose Miss Rossi’s tales and questionable actions.  We have received courtesy calls from Clara Nightingale’s manager and Miss Penny Rolling from Jagged Stone’s camp to advise us.”

He smirked over the pain of bruised jaw muscles.

He so remembered teenage girls in college being quite dangerous and vindictive when they were properly motivated.  It was good to see that had not changed in the last few decades.

The tablet pinged.

Have the young ladies reached out to Agreste Design with their plans?

“They have, Sir.  I thought it best to consult with you before either responding or dismissing their actions.”

Another ping.

We will respond.  And our response is to offer our support in the endeavour.  Put them in contact with our legal department, specifically with the sector responsible for monitoring Miss Rossi’s actions.  Allow them to share her file with them, and whoever else they recommend would benefit from viewing it.

Nathalie seemed confused by this decision, knowing how secretive and how closely he played the cards to his plans.

“Full disclosure, Sir?”

This was an unexpected shift.

Another ping.

I am tired and annoyed with the young lady, this despite how useful she had been in creating past akuma victims.  I made a monumental mistake in allowing her such free reign around my business and Son.  Obviously, the protection order is doing nothing, and the victims she creates now are merely to serve her own purpose of bolstering her popularity.

She hummed softly.  “Strange to think how much of a manipulator she is at such a young age.”

Another ping.

She will be someone to watch closely to see what kind of individual she will be in the future.  But, until then and for working against my wishes, she must face the consequences of her actions.

Gabriel sighed softly, staring out the window to the fenced in garden beyond, and Nathalie blinked at the almost depressed expression on his face.  He seemed somehow smaller than she had seen him in the past, not as focused.

“Are you alright, Sir?”

It took a moment before he seemed to react.

Another ping sounded on her tablet.

I’m not sure if I miss Nooroo or if I miss the power his Miraculous gave me.  I feel no one’s emotions, I hear no one’s thoughts.  It feels quite empty.

“I miss the quiet with Duusuu around,” Nathalie admitted gently.  “She was also so animated and enthusiastic about everything.  She especially liked to watch television sitcoms.  But, Sir, I think we were both starting to be addicted to the power they gave us, to the lack of consequences.  In a way, I think this was for the best.”

He casually waved a hand, a signal that he was somewhat agreeing with her.

“My personal health has improved significantly since not using the Peacock Miraculous,” she added.

Knowing the broken Peacock gem had been the cause of Emilie Agreste’s condition, Nathalie had felt the need to share the fact about her health.  Deep down, she knew Gabriel probably didn’t care about this.  She was his assistant, they shared no significant connection beyond that.

So she hid her surprise when Gabriel nodded with a small smile.

He did care?

She mentally shook herself to continue.

“Sir, as much as I, too, want to bring Madame Agreste back, I’m also starting to see that this probably was not the way to do it.”

The tablet pinged.

Nooroo often said that the Great Guardians of the Miraculous could possibly have a cure for her coma.

“It could be a different avenue to investigate, Sir.”

Another ping.

Now lacking access to a Miraculous to get the Ladybug and Chat Noir gems, there is no longer a choice in the matter.  I made a promise.

“Yes, Sir.  But maybe your original plan is not the way.  I’ve had a lot of time to think about this since not being permitted to use my Miraculous.”

Another ping.

So have I.  Nooroo always warned me about a price to pay, something of equal value the Universe would demand to what I was asking in order to balance the order of things.  There are few things in this world I value as much as Emilie.

And Nathalie understood.

“Adrien.”

Gabriel nodded.

Another ping.

Emilie would never forgive me if something happened to him.  And if the wish took me instead, then the cycle would begin anew only with Emilie trying to fulfill the promise.  Neither of which is a desired outcome.

He paused and Nathalie waited patiently.

After so much time committed to one path, one set of actions, to try to realize his goal, whatever conclusion or decision he was coming to was not an easy one.  She had spent the time since giving up the use of the Peacock Miraculous pondering this very thing.

As noble their intent had been to heal Emilie Agreste of this magically induced coma, now thinking about it rationally without whatever the influence of the mystical gems had been, the risk of the ultimate wish truly could not be justified.

Nooroo had been right.

Ladybug had been right.

They didn’t have a just enough cause to ask for a life for Emilie’s.

If they were even going to be given the chance to ask which life.

The tablet pinged after a moment.

I will never be redeemed.

“Neither of us will, Sir.”

Eyes fixed outside for another long moment, cheekbone resting on his knuckled, Gabriel silently weighed the odds.

He barely turned his head, looking to his assistant knowingly.

Nathalie straightened and nodded.

“I will send a message through the Ladyblog that we would need to speak with Ladybug and Chat Noir,” she voiced, her tone both resigned and relieved.  “They may be willing to help us, even after everything.”

Gabriel nodded in agreement.

Grey eyes returned to the window, a casual wave dismissing the woman.

She stopped at the door, casting her employer a final glance.

There had been a time when she had seen him as the most powerful and determined man she had ever met.  He had a will of iron, a demeanor that commanded more powerful people to bow to him in submission.

Now she saw a broken man.

The man she had once admired looked small sitting in his chair, lost in his thoughts.

She left the room quietly, leaving her employer in his ponderings, and headed for her office.  She had plans to put in motion, and other to verify were still in place in case things went horribly wrong. 

Not long after learning of Gabriel’s plans regarding Miraculous gems, she had put contingencies in place to ensure care for Adrien should they be found out and arrested.  She had accounted for everything, modifying them slightly as time passed.  Adrien would be financially secure, a guardian had been chosen to watch over him until the age of majority, and his security was paid for the next sixty years at least.

There had been plans for herself as well, but those had been scrapped the moment she chose to don the Peacock Miraculous that fateful Heroes’ Day.

Nathalie sat at her desk, noting how quiet everything seemed without Duusuu clamouring around her.

Silently she wondered if this was how past Miraculous holders felt when they were forced to relinquish their gems for one reason or another.

She called up the Ladyblog on her computer and scrolled to the private message link.  There was no guarantee this would work, no one really knew if Alya Cessaire had any way of contacting Ladybug or Chat Noir.

There was nothing to lose now.

*    *    *

Green eyes surveyed the collège’s quad carefully from her vantage point on one of the second-floor walkways, taking note of all the students there with careful and calculating consideration.  From this spot she could see everything, and hear some of the conversations with ease.  Some students were gathered in informal and loose groups, including those around them without seeming to include them.  Couples hugged the walls and quiet corners to catch a few moments alone, away from prying eyes before the start of classes.

Near one of the stairways closest to Madame Bustier’s class, one could see Chloé Bourgeois and Alya Césaire comparing notes on their tablets about something.  Nino Lahiffe walked up to both of them to show them something on his own tablet.  Sabrina Riencompris joined them a scant moment later with more information on her tablet.

Lila frowned at this.

She had no idea what these four were talking about, what they were planning since they were too far from where Lila was perched, and this made the Italian uncomfortable.

Since Adrien’s akumatization, her dominance of the school had waned considerably.  Students in this school no longer flocked to her when she arrived, ready to swallow up her latest tale about whatever seemed popular that day.  Teachers seemed far less inclined to take her word about whatever it was she claimed ailed her or had made her miss classes of late.  Forging her Mother’s signature on notes wasn’t too hard, but she shouldn’t even have to be doing it at all.  Only a few short weeks ago, everyone believed her every word.

And the news station was taking its own sweet time setting up an interview with her.  This was throwing her entire schedule off.  By her planning, she would have been at the top of the social ladder by New Year’s Day at the latest.  Now, she would be lucky if she reached her status by mid-January.

Why the delay?

What had caused this, Lila was unsure, but it had to have something to do with Dupain-Cheng’s friends…

Or Dupain-Cheng herself.

Lila scowled.

Yes, it had to be Dupain-Cheng’s fault. 

Or Ladybug’s fault somehow.

Those two were really the only ones standing in the way of her total domination.

Casually leaning her hands on the railing, Lila scanned the people below again and realized something.  Neither Dupain-Cheng nor Adrien had arrived yet.

Not that she believed Adrien would show up.  With what she knew of him, in her mind, she was sure he was mortified enough to stay wherever it was he had holed up after his last transformation.

This was something else that frustrated her: the fact she had no idea where he was staying now that he had destroyed Agreste Manor.  She knew Gabriel and his assistant were staying at the Grand Paris, that had been easy enough to glean from one of the lower-level assistants she had duped at Agreste Design. 

But Adrien was not.

This was out of character for Gabriel.  Controlling as he was, how was it that he had not tightened his hold on the boy  after this?

Something to find out.

Her scowl deepened.  More work to do.  She hated having to do work for herself.  It had been so much easier when she had an adoring public to feed her the information she craved and do what she needed them to do for her.

To Hell with any protection order.  She knew these documents well, she had received a few herself back in Italy, and issued a few of her own against her more infatuated followers.

Ammonimento.

They were tricky to navigate, one had to be very careful not to cross a line for too long.  She knew the time limits.  A few scant minutes were never enough for the police to do anything.

And this was a civil protection order.  It held no real power.

A brief thought crossed her mind as to whether this was the same in France, but it was quickly dismissed.  Gabriel hadn’t had the time to present enough evidence he might have had against her to any court of law to ensure a proper restraining order.  It would expire soon enough, no judge would renew it if she showed up to contest it with a pitiful look and a few tears.

But, until then, it did make things difficult.

There was only one happy glimmer in all this.

With this last transformation, Adrien would probably be far too weak and tired to properly resist Lila’s advances.  She could corner him in a hallway or in the locker room and really lay on the charm as thickly as she wanted.  He really could only resist for so long, and she would wear him down.  She would be limited to however long his friends left him alone, if they left him alone after all this, but she only needed a few scant minutes to sow the seed of doubt about those around him.

Especially about Dupain-Cheng.

He was quintessential to her rise in the world.  After she got what she needed from him, he wouldn’t be needed anymore, but until then he had to stand with her, willingly or not.  He had to at least act like he loved her.

It was a game of optics after all.

Everyone had to see them together, a loving couple, so when she moved on to better prospects, she could pain him into any picture she chose in order to make herself look pristine, like the injured party to whatever story she would concoct for their breakup.

And until then she needed that image to be perfect.

But how could she even begin to whittle away his defences if he wasn’t around?

She scanned the quad once more to make sure she hadn’t missed seeing him.

He had to come to school. 

This was the only place she had access to him until the end of the protection order.

Movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention, drawing her gaze away from the crowds of students.

A small smirk turned up the corners of her lips.

There he was.

Walking through the school’s main entrance was the model in question, Adrien Agreste.  Despite what had occurred over the weekend, he was smiling and laughing with his companion.  The presence of that person wiped the smirk off Lila’s face, bringing back her displeased scowl.

Dupain-Cheng.

The little Chinese stalker had no doubt waited on the front steps until he arrived in order to be the first to greet him.  Lila knew her game.  She was making herself a permanent presence in Adrien’s life so he would think of her first, so he would turn to her first.

A blur of pink and blonde streaked across the quad to collide with Adrien, a high-pitched wail filling the air.

Tiny Rose really could move when she wanted to.

The rest of their classmates moved towards the model, all of them smiling.  There was going to be a conversation there, one Lila desperately wanted to hear.  As luck would have it, they were staying near the front entrance.  The second-floor walkway extended to just above them.  And Lila knew the acoustics well enough in this school to know if she positioned herself up there just right, she would hear everything even if they whispered.

She dashed over, keeping herself carefully hidden behind a column, an ear trained on the conversation below.

*    *    *

“We were so worried you wouldn’t be coming back to school!” Rose wailed pitifully as she held Adrien in a nearly crushing hug.  “I’m so happy to see we were all wrong!”

Adrien grimaced from the vice-like grip she had around his ribs, pinning his arms to his sides.  “Thanks, Rose, but could you let me breathe, please?”

The petite girl squeaked in horrified realization, releasing him immediately and backing up a step.

“Oh my gosh!  I’m so sorry!”

He took a deep breath to stretch his crushed ribs, offering his classmate a reassuring smile and a light pat to the top of her head.  It was a move he had seen others in the class do, one that brought a smile to Rose’s face to quell whatever worry she might have had.

It worked here as well, the tiny girl unleashing one of her million-watt smiles.

Their classmates gathered around them, cautiously welcoming the boy back among them.

“Dude, I gotta say, you looked pretty cool up on the Eiffel Tower,” Kim praised, receiving a warning shove from Ivan just behind him.  “What?  It was awesome!”

“And we told you not to mention it,” Alix chided.

Adrien merely smiled, knowing that they simply wanted to be considerate towards him after having transformed before the weekend.  They had no idea why or the details that caused it, but it was clear they didn’t care as to the why so long as he was okay.  It made him feel warm.

Kim looked slightly frustrated at being denied, but an air of illumination struck him as his attention turned to Marinette.

“Well, if we can’t talk about him, how about we talk about how bad-ass Mari was up there that night.  I mean, wow!”

Marinette felt a little flustered from her classmates’ excited babbling.  It had never crossed her mind for an instant that her appearance that night to calm Chat Blanc would have been so widely broadcasted, or even more widely watched.  It had never even been a consideration that anyone would see here up there.

As their friends chattered away, peppering her with questions once right after the other before she even had a chance to respond to any of them, Alya pushed her way through the crowd to stand before her.  The aspiring journalist glared at her friend, to the point Marinette was convinced she was going to get the chewing out of the century.

Alya grabbed her shoulders, the gathered students going quiet.

“Don’t you ever, ever, scare me like that ever again,” she ground harshly.  “You could’ve gotten hurt or fallen and died!  What were you thinking?”

“That Adrien needed me,” Marinette replied simply as if the answer had been obvious.  “And… and Ladybug and Chat Noir weren’t far,” she added quickly.

Adrien resisted the urge to snort.  Yes, Ladybug and Chat Noir truly weren’t far away, but how would their friends react the moment they might find out the Heroes of Paris were in their class.

“I really don’t know about Ladybug and Chat Noir putting you in these kinds of situations,” Nino griped.

“I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think I was safe,” Marinette countered.  “Besides, Adrien wouldn’t have let anything happen to me,” and she beamed adoringly at Adrien.

He could feel his insides turning into goo in the best of ways.  She was never afraid to display how much trust and confidence she had in him, as Ladybug and now as Marinette.  It threw him off and gave him such a sense of validation all at once.  It was a strange feeling to reconcile, having been so long since he had been on the receiving end, not that he even remembered if he had.  To be honest, he couldn’t actually remember if his Mother had treated him this way.  He remembered her eyes, her smile, he often saw in pictures that she had held him, but he had no memory of how it felt.

Instead of dwelling on the thought, Adrien snaked his arm around Marinette’s waist to tug her close, dropping his face to her shoulder, a quiet purr meant only for her ears rumbling in his throat.  He heard the low hum of appreciation from her as she turned slightly to wrap her arms around his form in return.

Sabrina, Rose and Mylène cooed at the scene they made.

“You’re sure you’re feeling okay?” Nathaniel questioned the model carefully.  “I mean, you blew up half your house…”

Reluctantly, Adrien lifted his head from his girlfriend’s shoulder.  “I’m okay, Nate.  And I’m positive there’s nothing here with that much intensity that’ll cause me to change.”

“We’ll make sure of it!”  Sabrina clasped her hands together almost in supplication.  “Is there anything else we can do?”

He shrugged a wry smile.  “Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass?”

This got Nino to clasp his shoulder, also smiling at his best friend.  “Can do, Bro.”

Chloé clapped her hands loudly to gain the group’s attention, balling her fists to her hips in an authoritarian stance.

“Alright, now, you can all see Adri-kins and Marinette are both alive and well, give them some space,” she ordered.  “Really, there shouldn’t have been any doubt, we all know Marinette was born with every possible lucky charm imbedded inside her that nothing short of an apocalypse could even begin to endanger her.”

“As improbable as that statement is, it would explain the implausible amount of fortune that comes her way,” Max agreed.

“Exactly!”  The Bourgeois girl flapped her hands at the other students to get them to disperse before turning to the hidden Heroes of Paris.  Then, when the others were far enough and making their way to their classroom, “But I agree with Césaire, what on Earth were you thinking?” she directed at Marinette.

Alya and Nino stood with Chloé, both frowning in a kind of parental worry.

Adrien and Marinette were silent for a moment, staring in owlish wonder at the sight the three made in front of them.

Marinette broke the silence first.

“I honestly don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified that you three are actually in agreement.”

“Do not change the subject, Dupain-Cheng.  Spill, what was going through your head when you willingly went after Adrien on top of the tower?”

“Honestly?”

Chloé crossed her arms over her chest.  “I would think we deserve at least that.”

She shot a glance at the boy at her side, chewing the inside of her cheek at just how much she should say.  The baker’s girl heaved a heavy sigh, gathering her thoughts.

“I was… I was actually thinking about how many different kinds of pain I could inflict on Adrien’s sad excuse for a Father.”

Four pairs of wide eyes stared at her.

All were silent.

Marinette started feeling self-conscious, beginning to curl on herself as her cheeks warmed, regretting having said anything.

And Nino snorted, calling her attention to him.  He seemed to be struggling to not react.

Then Alya strangled a squeak.  Looking to her, Marinette noted she was close to the same state as Nino.

She looked to the Mayor’s Daughter.

Chloé’s face was contorted between trying to keep her trademarked annoyed expression, and barely contained amusement.

She turned to the Agreste teen.

Adrien’s expression was between shock and adoration at her admission.

To say Marinette was confused was an understatement.

“What?” she questioned.

That seemed to be the trigger to break the dam.

Nino and Alya practically ended up on the floor, doubled over in laughter, while Chloé’s laughter was more reserved.  Her amused disbelief was partially concealed behind her hand as she shook her head at the girl before her.

For his part, Adrien wrapped Marinette in his arms to cuddle her close, a proud smile on his lips.

“I love you so much,” he breathed fiercely near her ear.

“Love you too, My Prince,” she easily returned.

Chloé made a disgusted sound through her amusement.  “I swear, your selflessness could be nauseating if it wasn’t directed at Adri-kins.  But you nearly gave Césaire and Lahiffe here a heart attack that night when we all saw you on the news.”

“You were with them?” Adrien asked.

“Of course not, but Césaire was quite literally blowing up my phone with texts.  While I have complete trust in Ladybug and her crazy plans, I have to admit I was a little worried too.”

Marinette blinked.  “You were worried about me?”

Chloé fidgeted, realizing she had shown a weakness she hadn’t intended to.  She was getting soft from associating with this group. 

“Well, seeing as you’re the only one who can calm down Adrien when he transforms, if anything happened to you there would be nothing to stop him from going full on postal,” she opted to reply.

“Are we… are we allowed to ask what happened?” Nino queried carefully.

Chloé’s eyes darted to something up and behind the pair and she frowned.  “Not here.  We have a lot to discuss, but not out in the open like this.  The walls have ears.”  She dashed forward, forcing herself between the hidden Heroes to link her arms with theirs.  “Besides, first bell is about to ring and I for one would like to not ruin my attendance.  Let’s go to class,” and she pulled them along, Nino and Alya falling into step behind them.

“What gives, Chloé?” Alya asked as they crossed the quad.

“Lila was on the second-floor walkway listening to us.  I was not about to let her get any more information she could use against Adri-kins and Marinette.”

“More?” Marinette posed.

“She sold two videos to TVi supposedly showing you causing Adri-kins to transform at the photoshoot she crashed, and the other is of you breaking Gabriel’s jaw this weekend.”

Adrien stopped short in surprise.  “Wait!  You mean that wasn’t a joke?  You really did break his jaw?”

“He admitted to using Lila to spy on you, to ruin your life, and break you down even more than he already has, and he admitted to setting you off this weekend.  If you think for one second that I was just going to let that go—”

Marinette never got to finish that thought before Adrien had her wrapped in his arms again, physically lifting her off her feet in a tight hug and eliciting a squeak from her.  She could hear his breath rattling ever so slightly as he struggled to reign in a sob.  Pressing her face into the side of his neck, Marinette cuddled closer.

“Mari protect Adrien, remember?” she breathed softly.

His arms tightened in response.

“The bastard really admitted to using Rossi to break him?” Nino questioned carefully after a brief moment.

Pulling away from each other just a bit, Adrien shot a confirming glance to his partner as if silently signalling her it was okay to tell them everything.  Thin her lips, she nodded almost imperceivably.

“How much time before first bell do we have?” the baker’s girl asked.

Alya glanced at her phone.  “About fifteen minutes.”

“Should be enough.  Um, try to control your reactions when I tell you.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Chloé scoffed, her expression betraying some of the trepidation she felt.

The pair merely gave them a poignant glance.  Chloé felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.  After everything these two had gone through, for them to consider their yet to be revealed news really bad, then it had to be something extra.

Marinette took a deep, bracing breath.  “So, the reason why Gabriel has been using Lila to goad Adrien so much, to try to get him to react in a distinctly negative way, is because he’s… he was… Hawk Moth.”

All three had the same reaction in order not to yell out their surprise: hands firmly pressed over their mouths to smothers their shouts; eyes wide in sheer disbelief.

“He’s the purple bastard who did this to you?” Alya hissed, doing her damnedest to keep her reaction in check.  “He akumatized his own Son?”

“And lived to regret it,” Adrien huffed a growl, “… though he’ll wear that set of scars unless he decides to get microsurgery to make them disappear.”

“Dude!” Nino exclaimed, hands slapping over his mouth immediately after from the volume.

“He deserved worse,” Marinette muttered.

“Oh, you breaking his jaw makes so much sense now,” Chloé sneered, a slow smile creeping over her lips.  Then her expression dropped.  “I knew Gabriel was a monster, but to do all this, and to you, Adrien…  But why did Ladybug let him go free?”

“Without his Miraculous he can’t do anything to anyone anymore,” Adrien replied.  “And Mayura is now gone too, so there’s nothing really to worry about.”

“But shouldn’t he be charged or something?”

“The world doesn’t know how to deal with magic, so how would they even begin to try him?  How do you prove he was Hawk Moth when all you have is Ladybug and Chat Noir’s word?”

“They would have yours and Mari’s word too,” Alya protested.

“The word of four kids against a team of high-priced lawyers defending a billionaire,” Adrien deadpanned.

Her expression dropped.  “Oh.”

Nino slowly shook his head back and forth, processing all the information they had gotten.  “So Lila working as his muse and top female model…  Her hanging off of you every chance she gets…  The photo in your room…  All her claims to us and anyone who’ll listen about the two of you…  All of this was under that asshole’s orders just so he could akumatize you?”

“He was playing around with a new kind of akuma and he wanted to test it on someone he thought he would be able to control,” Marinette replied.

“Able to control!” the DJ scoffed.  “My boy is not some wet rag with no backbone.  More proof the idiot knows nothing about Adrien.”

“So, that item Rossi claimed you demanded off of Gabriel…?” Chloé prompted.

Marinette hesitated.  “Um… Ladybug told me that I had permission to take his Miraculous and Mayura’s off him if I ever deemed that he screwed up.”

“Hmm, and annoying Adri-kins enough to cause him to transform is definitely a screw up.  You took them and gave them to Ladybug.  Well, knowing that Hawk Moth is now completely and totally out of service, and not just working on the honor system, does make things easier.  No chance of Rossi getting akumatized during her interview.”

“Interview?”

The Mayor’s Daughter motioned them to keep walking towards their class.  “Nadja Chamack contacted Césaire to discuss the videos and I tagged along.  Turns out this is part of the agreement TVi made to buy them, they have to interview the little brat too.  Right now the station is stalling so they can review the videos, make sure they haven’t been tampered with…”

“Which you know that have been,” Alya added.

“Goes without saying, but they know they will have to interview her.  Word is they’re looking into a guest interviewer, someone seasoned, is coming in for it.  I told Chamack I want a front row seat to that grilling.”

Adrien smirked.  “You just want to be able to heckle her.”

“You bet I do!  TVi will be contacting the two of you when they’re ready for the interview.  They’ll want your side to all of this, of course.”

“Do you think they’ll try to call in Gabriel?” Marinette asked.

“Probably, but until his jaw heals from your wicked right hook, I don’t think he’ll be able to offer very much more than a written statement.”

“If he shows up, it won’t matter what he says,” Alya supplied.  “The ice man will be a spike to TVi ratings by his presence alone.  Might also rattle little miss perfect’s nerves by the fact that he’s there and fully capable of countering anything she tries to claim.”

Chloé nodded.  “This is true.  And a nervous stutter is such a give-away for a lie.  When TVi calls either of you, call me.  I want to set up a viewing party for the class, Tsurugi and Couffaine’s Brother.  Some snacks, some drinks, I can ask Daddy to let me use one of the private dinner halls at the hotel.  I can make it seem like I’m doing this as a viewing party for the interview, so Rossi won’t suspect anything.”

Both Adrien and Marinette were surprised at the mention of two names.

“You got Luka and Kagami involved?” Adrien marvelled.

“Wasn’t hard.  Couffaine is royally pissed at Rossi for her claims about their cute little band and regarding Jagged Stone.  Meanwhile, the Tsurugis would have found out eventually since they’re already actively involved in building a case against her.  I’m sure Tsurugi’s Mother is just itching for the moment she can launch a major lawsuit.  I predict that not long after that interview airs, little miss Lie-la will be on the receiving end of several lawsuits, and no amount of lying will get her out of them.”

The hidden Heroes of Paris glanced at each other with no small amount of trepidation.

It was clear Alya and Nino were assisting, but Chloé was most definitely the lead in the entire endeavor to bring Lila Rossi down.  Both knew when this girl set her mind to something, she would see it to it’s very end, no matter what it was.

While part of them knew Lila had brought all of this onto herself with her constant tall-tales and lies, they couldn’t help feeling a small bit of pity for the Italian girl.

She had annoyed the Queen Bee.

Soon she would have to face the sting of her wrath.

*    *    *

From her vantage point, Lila watched the five walk away and out of earshot.  A deep frown marred her features.  She had learned nothing from their pointless fawning and cooing.

She had seen the news, watching Dupain-Cheng on the Eiffel Tower coming to Chat Blanc to calm him.

Everyone in the city and surrounding areas had seen that.

Nothing new of useful there.

And just when she would have learned vital information about what Gabriel had done to set Adrien off, the Bourgeois brat moved them out of her earshot with some lame excuse that they needed to head to class before first bell.

Lila walked the second-floor walkway towards that very classroom, keeping her eyes on the group as they walked across the quad and climbed the stairs closest to their destination.  They were still speaking to each other, but unfortunately no sound carried to her.

She paused at the end of the walkway, letting them enter the classroom, before she started casually walking towards the door.  The mask of pure ignorance and innocence fell into place with practiced ease.  Whatever the class was planning against her, she would make it seem like she wasn’t on to them.

They were more likely to trip up and let something slip if they didn’t think she knew anything.

Not that she knew much anyways, but they didn’t know that.

Approaching the door, Lila took a deep breath, her brightest and most happy smile spreading over her lips.

“Hi, everyone!” she greeted, walking in and waving at everyone.  “I just got back from an environmental meeting in New York, and you’ll never guess who I ran into while I was there!  Beyonce and Jay-Z were just leaving their own meeting with the representatives of the Ivory Coast, and they invited me to go shopping with them!  It was so incredible to see them again and just hang out!”

She paused for effect, but heard no reaction from the class.

No coos of awe, no gasps of envy.

Only the quiet murmurs of her classmates engaged in their own conversations.

Alix was absently scrolling through her phone.

Sabrina was reading off items on her tablet with Chloé occasionally correcting her or adding extra information.

Mylène was turned in her seat to engage Ivan, Rose, and Juleka.  Not doubt a discussion about their pitiful little musical group.

Max and Kim were leaned over Nathaniel’s desk, seemingly directing him in a drawing of some sort.

And near the front Alya, Nino, Adrien and Dupain-Cheng were grouped together in deep discussions.  Nino had switched seats with the Chinese girl, allowing her to sit next to Adrien.

Lila’s gleeful mask almost broke at the sight of Adrien so close to that girl.

That could have been her.

That should have been her.

It was all Ladybug’s fault that it wasn’t.

And where was Hawk Moth?

The sheer amount of anger she felt should have produced several akuma by now.

What was taking him so long to notice her rage?

Lila allowed herself a petulant pout at being ignored and walked to her seat at the back of the class, strategically curling her spine to add an allure of dejection.

This act, too, was ignored.

She sat primly, pulling out her tablet to prepare for class.

They could ignore her all they wanted; their tune would soon change.  TVi would soon interview her, and she had a perfect script planned. 

It would be a tale of her rise to prominence, of being discovered by the great Gabriel Agreste.  She would recount how Adrien fell madly in love with her from their modelling sessions.  She would spin a yarn about how she had tried to befriend and help the Heroes of Paris, but that Ladybug rebuffed her harshly.  Next would come the story of being a victim to Hawk Moth, of being harassed by Chat Noir when she rejected his advances, or becoming a target for Ladybug’s ire. 

And she wouldn’t miss the opportunity to paint Dupain-Cheng as the terrible little gold-digger with no fashion or baking talent.  All of Paris and the surrounding regions would hear the smear and believe it to be true.  A few rightly placed tears while recounting the bullying she endured in school at the hands of Dupain-Cheng would cement it all into place.

All Lila had to do was make sure she alone controlled the interview.  She would need to carefully word her responses to the questions in order to lead them in the direction she wanted.

Easy enough.

She had watched the inept reporters from TVi enough to know how weak willed they were.  Any of them interviewing her would make it so easy.

Green eyes fixed Dupain-Cheng at the front of the class just as Adrien laid his cheek to her shoulder, looking up at the Chinese girl with the sweetest and most innocent expression.

Enjoy the attention while you have it, bitch.  Soon, I’ll be on top again.

Chapter Text

Nadja Chamack sat in one of the smaller conference rooms at TVi, her producer on one side and Alec Cataldi on the other. 

Across from them, finishing reading a thick file, was Martin Boudot, a French investigative journalist and documentary filmmaker of no small renown in the journalistic and television circles.  An amazing feat for someone just entering their third decade of life.  He had published two books and was accredited with no less than nine award winning investigative documentaries.

He was also known as being dogged and focused, not easily swayed by what was being presented to him, determined to find the truth.

He was perfect for this next assignment.

If he decided to accept it.

“What do you think, Martin?” the producer questioned when Martin put the file down.

The reporter looked up, incredulity written on his young features.  “Is this girl for real?”

Nadja nodded.  “Very much so, unfortunately.”

“Dear lord, and I thought I met some characters in my career.  And all these people listed in the file?”

“Are all preparing legal action against her,” Alec supplied, having been thoroughly briefed on this project.

“Does she know any of this?”

“If she does, she either thinks it’s not important or none of it will stick.  It’s like she believes if she feigns ignorance, none of it will come to pass.”

“Ignorance is bliss,” Martin muttered, flipping through certain passages of the file.  “Why did you agree to any of these terms?”

The producer sighed, leaning back in her chair.  “It was the lesser of evils.  She was threatening to shop the videos she had to other stations, and we all know a lot of them out there don’t have the same scruples as reputable stations.  The girl she’s targeting in a lot of her statements, we all know her.  She’s a regular babysitter for Nadja’s Daughter, so there is that bit of bias, but there is no possibility this side of Hell that she’s like Rossi has described her.”

“But the money you paid Rossi…?”

“That’s the lovely bit, she never read the clause just above where she signed the contract of sale.  If we deemed the videos false or libelous in any way, we reserve the right to reclaim the payment.  The funds are locked until after the interview, also noted in the contract.  Rossi’s already called us a few times about that, saying she needed to access those funds for some reason or other.”

Martin nodded slowly, returning his eyes to the file.  He re-read a section and then set the file down.

“Okay, so let me get this straight…  You want me to conduct the interview with this girl, try to trip her up in her obvious lies, live on camera.”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll be bringing in other guests during this interview to counter her claims during this interview.”

“We’re making this a special live broadcast.  The station is looking at possible two hours, maybe more depending on how deeply she tries to dig herself in.”

“Reading all this, it’s easy to see that she will try.”

Alec nodded in agreement.  “No doubt, but that’s why we called you in.  Of all the reporters, journalists, investigative producers we know, we’re confident you’ll be able to keep this interview on track and not let her trip into the world of fancy.”

Martin rubbed his mustache thoughtfully, eyes again on the file.  He looked at the pictures of the three of the principal actors in this story.

Lila Rossi:  Daughter to a Diplomatic Aide with the Italian mission in Paris who seemed to be leading a life only seen in the most self-serving fantasy novels.  For someone only fourteen years old, there was no possible way she could have accomplished everything she claimed she did, or even met a fractions of the people she purported to have as close personal friends.  Not at age fourteen.  Maybe in their forties, but not as a young teen.

Adrien Agreste:  Son of a billionaire fashion designer and premier male model for his Father’s brand.  His Mother was reported missing, presumed dead, but there was no proof of what happened.  Kept secluded for most of his life, he was allowed to start the current school year, supposedly at his insistence.  He was noted as being enrolled in several extra-curriculars on top of his modelling duties.  These included, but were not limited to, acting classes, lacrosse, basketball, European football, fencing, piano, and language lessons among other activities.  Aside from past occasional joint modelling sessions, there was nothing to let the media conclude there was anything more than a purely professional relationship between young Agreste and Rossi, this despite numerous insistent claims from Rossi.  Comments from psychologists viewing the photos of their modelling sessions concluded he was very uncomfortable being around her, noting stress lines around his eyes and mouth and the stiffness in his shoulders.  He was the last akumatization victim of Hawk Moth, having been transformed into Chat Blanc.  He was still suffering side-effects from the attack.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng:  Daughter to the owners and operators of one of Paris’s most popular bakeries.  Aspiring fashion designer in her own right, already courted by Audrey Bourgeois and Gabriel Agreste due to winning a design contest to have her piece modelled by Adrien Agreste during Fashion Week, and already regularly commissioned by several musical artists, actors, and others of renown.  Reports of Jagged Stone repeatedly referring to her as his Niece.  Ample and plentiful media proof of being romantically involved with Adrien Agreste, a relationship he seems to reciprocate at every turn, this despite Rossi’s claim that it is all a show.

Then there were all the celebrities or the rich and famous who’s names had been dropped by Rossi, saying she had deep ties to them.

Jagged Stone.

Clara Nightingale.

Black Pink.

Beyoncé and Jay-Z.

Spielberg.

Gates.

Prince Ali.

The Tsurugi family.

And so many more.

Quite a cast of characters to this sordid tale.

Reading all of this, from the point of view of someone watching it all without prior knowledge or information, this was definitely interesting to say the least.  It had everything: intrigue; romance; secrets; and money.

Reading all of this, from a journalistic standpoint, this was promising to be Pulitzer winning material.

One would be very foolish to just walk away when it was basically being handed to him.

Nadja leaned forward slightly.  “Will you help us, Martin?”  He raised his eyes to look at her.  “Will you do this?”

A slow smile spreading over his lips was his only response.

*    *    *

“So, Tsurugi confirmed her Mother is just about ready to sic her team of lawyers after Rossi,” Chloé informed, scrolling through her tablet as she approached the secluded table.  “She figures possibly next week.  All of our other contacts have confirmed the same thing, but they decided not to combine into one case.  They decided that individual cases against Rossi were more intimidating and having multiple cases had a better chance of at least getting one success against her.”

Across the table from her, Alya nodded knowingly, organizing files on her own tablet while sipping on a mug of coffee.  “Makes sense.  Divide and conquer always did have better odds.  Are they saying on which day they want to have her served?  I want to record the look on Lila’s face when she receives close to thirty court summons on one day.”

“For posterity, of course.  How very evil of you.  They all seem to be aiming for mid-next week.”  She paused at a thought, leaning back in her chair.  “You know she’ll try to spin it in her favour… though I can’t really see how.”

Alya chuckled.  “Either we’re giving her more credit than she deserves, or we’re really not as devious as we think we are.”

“Speak for yourself, I am plenty devious.”

“Being devious and being a bitch are two separate things.”

Chloé stuck her tongue out at her just as her phone pinged.  Reading the screen, an evil grinned overtook her features.

“Chamack got Martin Boudot to agree to lead the interview,” she announced.

Alya had a surprised start.  “Martin Boudot?  The Martin Boudot?  French investigative journalist and documentary filmmaker?  Host of Green Warriors?  Top five nominee for the Prix Europa of the Outstanding Achievement Award European Journalist of the Year?  Finalists of the Albert Londres Prize, the highest French journalistic distinction?  That Martin Boudot?”

“Uh, yes, I guess that’s him.”

“Oh, wow!  He’s going to murder Lila live on TV.”

“Oh?  I like him already.  I was hoping TVi was going to use one of those American cut-throat reporters, but I guess they did need to get someone who spoke French.  I’m going to need to get a lot more popcorn for when this airs.”

“When will it air?”

“No date yet, but I figure this will probably be after she’s served.  Rossi will definitely insist on the interview if that’s the case.”

“You sure?”

“Of course!  Our entire class and then some will have seen her receive lawsuit after lawsuit, and word of mouth about that will spread like wildfire.  She’ll want to try to control the narrative, make it into something that makes her look like the innocent victim in all of it.”

“Yeah, figured that.  It’s why I asked for those videos from everyone to post on the Ladyblog.”

“I must admit, Césaire, that was inspired.”

“Hard to refute something when it comes directly from the source.  And, despite my earlier mistakes, I know how important proof can be.”

Chloé chuckled at that. 

She had taken great joy in the last few weeks making sure that Alya never forgot how very unlike a reporter she had acted.  Truth be known, she was enjoying this collaboration.  While it might have been to bring down a collective thorn in everyone’s side, this was not as painful as Chloé had thought it would be to have to interact with her classmates so much.

And they weren’t as bad as she had originally painted them all to be.

Maybe, just maybe, she would try to continue being civil with them.  Getting things done was definitely easier with their assistance.

“So, by this timeline, this will be an early Christmas present to Marinette and Adrien.”

“As presents go, this one is pretty priceless.”

“Definitely.  Best gift I’ve gotten, given, or been involved with.  It’ll be hard to top it next year.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something.”

She flicked her hair back over her shoulder.  “Of course, I will.  I’m brilliant and rich, after all.  Now, I have everything pretty much set for the viewing party, I’m just waiting for the date of the interview to lock it all into place.”

“The whole class has already quietly confirmed they’ll be there so when you do send out your invites it’ll make Lila think we’re really excited to be getting together to watch her.”

“She is so full of herself.  Wait until she realizes we’re just watching her get humiliated.  You’re sure this Boudot guy will crucify her?”

“Positive.  He’ll have full access to TVi’s research team, but he’s a pit bull when it comes to looking into things himself.  If there’s anyone who’ll uncover every ounce of truth about her, it’s him.”

“Well then, our work is just about done.”

“Yep.”

“Pedi mani?”

Alya blinked at the invitation.  “Um, sure, I have a few hours before I meet up with Nino.”

“Good, you can tell me what you’re getting Lahiffe for Christmas and I can correct it for you.”

Her shoulders deflated.  “Gee, thanks.”

*    *    *

Fu carefully set his iron tea pot on its trivet, steam escaping from the end of the spout to attest how hot the liquid within was.  The service set was complete to serve three, with a tiny dollhouse sized set ready for much tinier individuals that would also arrive.

A gentle whisper of magical eddies could be felt just beyond the door.

They were here.

At a silent command, the door to the modest apartment slowly swung open, revealing two teens blinking in awe and wonder.  They hadn’t even touched the door, or even knocked, and yet the door had opened for them.  They were even more surprised to see Master Fu kneeling in the center of the room on a bamboo mat, nowhere near the door.

Fu smiled in amusement.  “Come in, my children.  I have been expecting you.”

Marinette and Adrien obeyed, still wary of the door, especially as if closed behind them all on its own.

“Okay, that was impressive,” Adrien admitted.

Fu chuckled lightly.  “Live for one hundred eighty-seven years and you may learn how to do this for yourselves.  Now, come, sit.  I have a nice little tea blend that I think would do nicely for our conversations.”

“Have you received all the elements for the cure?” Marinette question as she and Adrien knelt on the bamboo mat.

“Yes, the last of the herbs I was waiting for arrived earlier this morning.  The concoction has been brewing since this morning and then must steep for a day for full potency.”

Adrien wrinkled his nose.  “I’m going to have to drink it?”

“You do not need to worry, my boy.  The scent is very much pleasant therefore the taste should not be as off-putting as you are worried about.  I imagine the flavour should be close to strong green tea.  I admit it was quite the endeavour gathering together all the ingredients and other components for this ritual, having to contact several dozens of my usual suppliers, but I am also pleased that they were not so hard to find.”

“And that no one tries to create white akuma more often.”

“That as well, but that would be due to the ritual being time consuming and complex to create one initially, and the cure difficult to decipher without Guardian training.  How has your home situation been, Adrien?  Everyone has heard about your latest incident.”

The model carefully picked up his teacup, taking a moment to swirl the tan liquid.  “I haven’t been back to the manor since that afternoon.  Marinette’s parents have set me up in their home.”

“After this, even before you told me to bring him back to my place, there was no way I was going to let him go back to stay in that house,” Marinette assured.  “My parents thankfully thought the same.”

Fu gently tugged on his beard.  “I take it this is quite a change from what you are used to,” he directed at the boy.

Adrien huffed a small laugh and sipped his tea.  “You could say that.  After a lifetime of being under someone’s control, I’ll admit it’s… interesting having so much free time and liberties.  I keep expecting to see Father or Nathalie show up behind me to yell at me.  I keep expecting someone and reprimand me for eating a dessert item that’s not on the approved list.”

Marinette turned to him sharply.  “Never again!” she assured.  “With us, you can eat what you want, when you want, however much you want.”

He chuckled lightly.  “That could end up being dangerous to my waistline.”

“More of you to love,” she smirked coyly.

This caused a deep blush to race over his cheeks and tinge his ears red.  Even after spending so much time together and getting to know her even better as his girlfriend and not just his friend and partner, she still could throw him for a loop with the most innocuous of comments and compliments.

Fu chuckled softly.  “Ah, young love.”

“It’s absolutely disgusting!” Plagg griped from where he sat with Tikki and Wayzz near the old gramophone.

Both Tikki and Wayzz admonished him as the humans laughed.

But Fu’s expression became reluctantly serious with a deep breath.  “You will need her affection for you, I’m afraid.  I regret that I must break our levity so soon to have to explain what to expect at the end of tomorrow.”

“It’s not good, it is, Master?” Marinette questioned, her hand instinctively finding Adrien’s hand to squeeze it, more for her own reassurance than him.

“It would seem many of the rituals of old did not take comfort and ease into account.  Perhaps this was done on purpose, as a deterrent.”

Adrien hummed softly in agreement.  “If it was easy, everyone would do it over and over again.”

“Correct, my boy.”

“Well, might as well get this over with so I know what new torture I’m about to go through.”

Fu’s expression was plaintive and apologetic.  “I wish this was not the case.”  He picked up the scroll at his side, carefully unrolling the ancient parchment.  “I found a first-person account from someone who endured the purification ritual, for lack of a better name for it.”  He adjusted a thin pair of reading glasses on his nose, quickly reviewing the scroll of the appropriate passage.  “He explained how it felt as if, and I quote, the Universe itself was suddenly inhabiting my body, squeezing against my heart and soul, lifting me towards the heavens while plunging me into the darkest of depths.  I would suspect this poor person experiences both a painful and hallucinating moment.”  He looked to Adrien.  “I’m sorry, I am not being reassuring with this.”

Adrien shrugged, resigned.  “No, but it kind of helps to know what to expect.”

“I have put you through so much by choosing you to be the holder of the Black Cat Miraculous.  And now this…”

“The lot of the Black Cat,” the boy stated with finality.

“I refuse to believe that,” Marinette countered firmly.  “I refuse to believe that the Guardians of old or even Plagg himself created a Miraculous imbued with bad luck.”

“History would beg to differ, My Lady.”

She scoffed.  “Black cats are not bad luck, that’s just superstition.”

“Explain my Father, then.”

“He’s an asshole and a jerk.”

Adrien barely held in his snort of laughter while Fu chuckled lightly.  In a corner of the room, Plagg cackled loudly.

“Okay, so it’s kind of bad luck for the fact that he’s your Father and all,” Marinette continued.  “But he’s been your Father long before you got the ring.  And you can’t be bad luck, or we would have lost our Miraculous several times over… or we’d both be dead.”

He looked at her, his expression reflecting the genuine fear of that possibility.  “Perish the thought.”

She smiled at him sweetly, lightly threading her fingers through the hair on the back of his head.  “So, you see, you’re actually my good luck charm.”

Adrien’s expression was pure awe.  He would never get used to it.

The girl who was normally so timid around him somehow knew how to turn him into a puddle of goo.

God, he loved her so much.

“Reading through the account, and through the ceremony itself, Adrien will require both your affection and strength, Marinette,” Fu continued.  “I will require you to be here as Ladybug to access the maximum amount of your power.  As for your affection, well, I do believe that is obvious,” he chuckled lightly.

“Anything you need me to do,” she confirmed easily.

“The preliminaries of the ceremony itself will be simple enough:  I will arrange the mandala on the floor here with the incense burners in a circle around it.  Marinette, as Ladybug, you will sit just outside the circle.  You, Adrien, will sit in the center.  You will drink the potion I have brewed, and I will begin the chants.  If you feel lightheaded you may lie down, but it must be within the circle.”

“Right, stay in the circle at all costs,” he confirmed.

“The vibrations from the chant, the potion, and the incense together will pull the remaining akuma energy out of your body.  I do not expect it will feel pleasant.  I am sorry.”

“It’s my Father’s fault, not yours, Master Fu.”

The old man still offered him an apologetic expression before continuing.  “Marinette, you will be able to capture this energy from him with your yo-yo and purify it out of existence, much like you do regular akuma.  Without a physical form, there will be nothing to release once this is done except perhaps a puff of smoke… or nothing at all.”

Marinette nodded slowly, absorbing the information.  “And then it’ll be over?”

“Completely, yes.  I do expect you to be very much drained, Adrien, to a far greater degree than when you transformed into Chat Blanc.  We can do this when you have more time in order to recuperate…?”

He shook his head.  “No, the sooner we get this done, the better.  And Marinette can always bring me back to the bakery if I can’t walk on my own.”  He smirked at her disarmingly.  “The perks of having a superhero girlfriend.”

She returned the smirk as she shoved him over playfully.  “I guess Ladybug owes that to Adrien seeing the number of times Chat Noir saved Marinette,” she teased.

Fu chuckled lightly at them.  “Would you be comfortable coming after your classes tomorrow then?”

“Like I said: the sooner, the better,” Adrien agreed.

“I can tell my parents that Ladybug and Chat Noir came to get us, that way they won’t worry.  We’ll come straight here after school lets out.”

A sudden realization dawned on Adrien’s face.  “So, it’s almost done?”

“Yes, my boy, just about,” confirmed the old master.  “By this time tomorrow, you will be completely free of any residual effects of the modified akuma.”

Relief washed over him.

One of the model’s biggest fears since his akumatization had been that he would lose completely control and hurt those he cared about, that he would hurt Marinette.

But after tomorrow that would be one more problem gone from his life.

All that would really be left would be a certain Italian viper, but it seemed Alya and Chloé were handling that, and that too would soon be gone.

Maybe Marinette had been right, maybe he hadn’t been cursed with the bad luck of the Black Cat.

*    *    *

“Well class,” Caline Bustier smiled brightly to the classroom of students, closing the book in her hands as she turned away from the board.  “We’re actually ahead of schedule for today.  You have the next fifteen minutes for free time, but I would ask that you keep the noise level down so as not to disturb the other classes.”

At that, the class split off into informal groups, making plans for when school would finally let out.  Lila hung back from these groups, listening intently to insert herself, but acting as if she didn’t care either way.

She already knew what one of them would eventually ask in the next minute or so.

“Hey, guys, the new Jagged Stone movie is out today,” Alix announced to the class, reading off her phone.  “You all want to go?”

And there it was.

As her classmates began to agree and ask what time the movie was starting in order to text home, a sorry sounding sob echoed from the back of the room.

“I guess I’ll have to miss watching it with all of you,” Lila almost wailed, tears in her eyes. 

“Good, since no one asked you to come,” Chloé muttered just loud enough to be heard.

Lila supressed her frown at the girl and continued.  “I won’t be able to join you if Marinette and Adrien are there, because of the protection order.  I guess I’ll just have to catch it at a later time, by myself,” and she sniffed pathetically for effect.

Predictably, Rose looked as if trapped in a dilemma, exactly as Lila had planned.  No one could ever say no to the petite blonde, and this one hated for people to be left out of events, so she would most likely turn on the impossible blue of her sad eyes to make the class feel guilty for excluding Lila from their outing.

She was such a little people pleaser.

Sure enough…

“But… but we can’t make plans for the entire class and just exclude someone, can we?  Even Lila?”

Lila almost frowned. 

What did she mean by that last bit?

No matter, it had the desired effect of making the others look to each other in questioning.

But they weren’t saying anything, only sharing glances as if they all were sharing the same thought about something.

What she hadn’t counted on was Adrien casually shrugging it all off with a placating smile aimed at Rose.

“Don’t worry, Rose,” he assured.  “Marinette and I won’t go this afternoon.  We’ll catch it at another time.”

Lila blinked, fighting against a look of surprise.

Why was he capitulating so quickly?

No, she needed them all to be in a deep conundrum about wanting them all there, but not being able to because of Adrien’s Father.  She needed them to hate Adrien and Dupain-Cheng.

So they couldn’t just refuse to come so graciously.

She knew for a fact everyone in the class wanted to see this movie, even them.  Why were they so willing to skip out?

“No, no, you and Marinette go with the others,” Lila sniffed, doubling down in an attempt to force their hand and find out what was going on.  “I know I’ve made myself unliked lately.”

“Lately?” Alix mumbled.

“You all just go, I’ll find something else to do,” she near sobbed for effect.  “You all go an enjoy the movie, without me.”

“No, Lila…  The movie theatre has to be big enough for you to keep far enough away, right?”

“Seriously, Rose, Adrien and I can’t go this afternoon anyway,” Marinette soothed the girl.  “We have an appointment right after school.”

This peaked Lila’s curiosity enough that she forgot her fake sorrow at possibly being excluded. “An appointment?  Both of you?  Together?”

“Did someone forget how sad she was a second ago?” Sabrina commented absently, receiving an approving grin from Chloé.

Lila felt the hot flush creep up her neck, realizing her mistake. 

She needed to recover the situation.

“Oh… I… I- I was… was caught off guard, hearing Adrien has an appointment together with Du—Marinette.  I’m still so very saddened I can’t watch the new movie with all of you.”

“Save it, Rossi,” Chloé snapped.  “The moment’s gone and you’ve lost your credibility.  Your fake tears dried up the second you became curious.  Besides, if Adri-kins and Marinette won’t be there, nothing is stopping you now from going with the rest of them, is there?”

The class seemed to erupt in agreement at that, further flustering Lila that her ruse didn’t seem to be working.

She curled onto herself in a strategic gambit to make herself look as if she was being attacked, even when that wasn’t happening.

Movement at the front of the class caught her attention and Lila hid her face in her hands to pretend to cry, watching the happenings through her fingers.  She sorely wished she could read lips to at least figure out what Adrien and Dupain-Cheng were saying.

*    *    *

Alya leaned over her desk towards her friends in the front row, ignoring the action Chloé had caused, Nino copying her move next to her.

“Hey, what’s the appointment you two have?” she questions her friends, letting the sounds of their fellow students loud discussions mask the question.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir are picking us up after class to bring us to the Great Guardian of the Miraculous,” Adrien replied, using the script he and Marinette rehearsed the night before.

“They said the Great Guardian told them he would have the cure to Adrien’s akumatization ready today,” added Marinette.  “We all agreed it would be best to get this done as soon as possible.”

Nino cocked his head in question.  “But why are you going, Dudette?  All this really just involves my boy.”

“Moral and emotional support,” Adrien answered with a smile.  “If I start to change for whatever reason, Marinette can ground me while Ladybug and Chat Noir restrain me.”

“Makes sense.  Don’t suppose we can tag along to offer our support?” Alya inquired, her tone hopeful, her expression an optimistic smile.

“Sorry, Alya, but the Great Guardian was pretty specific in his instructions.  No one else can be there.  I think he said their might be a risk of the modified akuma jumping to them.  Marinette has been prepared for it, you haven’t.  Besides, the three of them know who you are, and I don’t think they trust you not to start filming everything.”

“Damn,” Alya grumbled, a pout settling on her features.  “I guess my reputation precedes me now.”

“The curse of notoriety.”

“Depending on how it goes, we may not come in tomorrow either,” Marinette added.  “They said it could be really hard on Adrien.”

“Harsh, Dude,” Nino commiserated.  “Alya and I’ll text you guys later, see how everything went and if you need us to bring anything.  Share anything you feel comfortable to share.”

“Definitely,” Alya readily agreed.  “We’ll also bring the tomorrow’s class notes.”

“Mostly, I think I’ll just need lots of rest.  We’ll text you instead if we need anything.”

And the day’s final bell filled the air.

*    *    *

Lila kept a careful distance from the pair as they gathered their belongings and headed for the locker room.  She could just make out bits and pieces of their conversation over the noise of the school letting out for the day.

It seemed to be idle talk, pastries and studies and his modeling.

She fumed at watching Adrien gaze and smile at Dupain-Cheng as she was his entire world.  It was disgusting that he was wasting his time on that Chinese brat.  How he had resisted Lila all this time was a mystery to the girl.  Sure, he knew she lied, but it shouldn’t have mattered.  In her mind, her charms and charisma and natural beauty should have had him worshipping her feet the second they met.

And yet, nothing.

Frustration was just not that adequate word anymore.

*    *    *

“You know the viper is watching the two of you pretty closely, right?” Plagg questioned as he carefully peered over Adrien’s collar to where Lila was attempting to hide.

“Seeing the poor job she’s doing concealing herself, yes, Plagg, we know,” Adrien chuckled.  “Though that could make leaving your house later a little harder,” he admitted to Marinette.

She smiled reassuringly.  “She’ll never someone leave, but it won’t be us.”

His expression turned playfully conspiring.  “Ah, is this why you asked to borrow Trixx?”

“Yep, I’ll fusion Tikki and Trixx, cast an illusion for Mama and Papa to see to make them think Chat Noir and Ladybug came to pick us up, and I’ll use the same illusion to send Lila on a while chase around the city, while you and I head straight over to Master Fu’s.”

“What a clever bug you are,” he praised.

“Only noticing that now?” she returned in tease.

Adrien gave her an exaggerated pout.  “Me-ouch, My Lady.  I will have you know that I have always noticed how clever and beyond resourceful you are, in either persona.”

Marinette giggled softly as she closed her locker, then turned to him to lightly tap his nose.  “I know, Kitty, don’t think I haven’t noticed the look.”

He blinked at that.  “What look?”

She was going to reply, but Plagg beat her to it.

“It this gooey, dopey look with hearts in your eyes,” the kwami informed.  “It’s utterly disgusting.”

The boy groaned quietly as Tikki tittered from Marinette’s purse. 

“Like I said, the look.  It was getting harder and harder to ignore,” she admitted softly.  Hooking an arm in his, Marinette gave him a slight tug to steer him towards the exit.  “C’mon, Master Fu is waiting for us.”

*    *    *

Lila ducked around the corner of the lockers when she saw the pair head towards the door to the locker room.  She wanted to scream.  They had spoken just low enough that she hadn’t heard a single word they had spoken, even in the end of day quiet of the room.

They had an appointment, but for what?

Lila knew they had told Alya and Nino what this was, but both of them had run off before she could approach them to ask.

She wanted to know what this appointment was.

She needed to know in order to twist it in her favour somehow, use it for her upcoming interview.

Forcing the pair to reveal what this appointment was after the fact and live on TV was a risky gamble, but she could try to use it as proof of Adrien being manipulated by everyone for their own gains.  It didn’t matter if she was also doing the same, in Lila’s mind no one was smart enough to put the intricate millions of pieces together to form the puzzle she had created that was meant to control all of them.

Because her lies were nothing unless she had control.

And not knowing what this appointment was meant she was not in control.

Not close enough to overhear them, but just close enough to watch them, Lila fell into pace with the pair.  Her targets walked arm in arm across the school’s open courtyard, heading straight out the front door to wave at their friends heading off in their various directions for home.  Lila’s eyes were fixed on the pair as they walked in a very familiar direction.

This confirmed it, he had been staying with the Dupain-Chengs this entire time since his last transformation.

Damn that family!

Any other family who had gone through what Adrien had put them through would have avoided him, shunned him even.

But not the Dupain-Chengs.

They had opened their door to the boy and accepted him in as if he was completely innocent, seemingly forgetting that he had gotten himself akumatized, that he had kidnapped their Daughter, that he had destroyed the Agreste Manor.

Despite what anyone  said, Lila didn’t believe the people who got akumatized were all victims.  She was never a victim.  She willingly accepted the little black butterfly, the power it gave her to accomplish her goals.

The only thing that ever stopped her was that damnable bug and her clown of a stray.

So how anyone could overlook the fact Adrien had been akumatized was a mystery to her.

It also meant she had no access to the boy.  She had been declared unwelcome into the bakery, so she had no way in through there.  And she had no reason to come up to the apartment building’s door since she had made the public claim to anyone who would listen that the Dupain-Cheng girl hated her.  Lila had effectively closed the door on herself with that one.

Adrien was easier to isolate and access when he was at the Agreste Mansion.  She had an idea where some of the cameras were, allowing her to enter the house at will, but she never could get far enough to reach Adrien’s room.  She couldn’t even get near Gabriel’s office.  That place no doubt held interesting secrets she could use, but reaching that far in proved impossible, even for her.

No matter.

Lila would watch the Dupain-Cheng’s house and simply follow them to their appointment.  She would either inject herself into this meeting somehow, or use that information to discredit Dupain-Cheng, her family, and possibly Gabriel too at her interview.

She leaned against the stone pillars to the entrance of the park across the street.  Eyes fixed on the building, Lila waited.

*    *    *

Adrien huffed in annoyance as he stared out of Marinette’s bedroom window.

“You were right, My Lady, she’s out there watching.  Though I don’t think she knows how we’ll be leaving, she’s watching the doors.”

“Her mistake,” Plagg grumbled.  “People like her have a whole world built in their minds and anything that doesn’t fit into it just doesn’t register.  I’d love to see her expression when she sees Chat Noir and Ladybug leave here.”

“With Marinette and Adrien,” Tikki added.  “This will also be for the benefit of Marinette’s parents.”

“I don’t like lying to them,” the girl admitted.

“For their protection,” Trixx counselled.  “Sometimes hiding the truth is gentler on everyone involved than using a lie.” 

“And it’s not exactly a lie,” Tikki continued.  “Ladybug, Chat Noir, Adrien and Marinette will be leaving this room, no one need know that it’s all really two people and not four.”

“That a very fine line there, Tikki,” Adrien stated.

“It is, and one Miraculous users learn to walk over time.  This is not something I enjoy doing, but it has kept both kwami and users safe for centuries now.”

“That’s something we can agree on,” Marinette added softly.  She heaved a heavy breath to square her shoulders and smiled to her partner.  “Well, let’s do this.”

They called on their respective transformations to become Ladybug and Chat Noir.  Ladybug retrieved the Fox Miraculous from her desk, silently slipping it on.

“Trixx, Tikki, unify,” she spoke, calling on the Miraculous powers to combine.

Her costume  morphed to include aspects of the Fox, her usual red turning to deep orange with black spots.  Instead of the long ears like Volpina and Rena Rouge once sported, hers were shorter.  She had no tail or such appendage.  The long transverse flute had a more Asian bamboo look to it, appearing against her back within easy reach.

Chat Noir made a small appreciative sound as he circled his partner, a playful smile on his lips.

“As much as I’m positive that you can pull off any look from any Miraculous, I don’t know about this look,” he admitted.

“Oh?”

“Might be my bias.  I prefer the spots.”

She chuckled.   “You’ll see them again soon enough.”

Both of them ducked under the loft and Lady Fox called on Mirage.  The room waivered and shifted, hiding them from sight, and two people were created standing in the middle of the room.  She had produced a copy Adrien, and Marinette standing together.

From off in the distance appeared a copy of Ladybug and Chat Noir, leaping from roof to roof in the direction of the bakery.  The copies landed on Marinette’s balcony before dropping down into the room.

The real Chat Noir and Lady Fox gave each other a confirming nod, then jumped together to land with a loud thud to simulate the Heroes arriving in the room.

Sure enough, Marinette’s parents came racing up at the sound.   They froze just within the trap door at the sight of the Heroes standing with the two teens.

“Hi, Monsieur and Madame Dupain-Cheng,” the Chat Noir copy greeted with a smile.  “We’re here to take Adrien and Marinette to the Great Guardian for the cure.”

The real Chat Noir noted how his voice was slightly different to what he usually sounded, no doubt an extra precaution from Ladybug to ensure there would be no connection between him and Adrien.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Tom replied.

“Is there anything that we can do?” Sabine questioned.

The Ladybug copy was the one to respond.  “The Guardian said Adrien would most likely be very much exhausted afterwards, so just quiet and lots of rest.  We’re sorry to rush right now, but the Guardian is waiting on us.”

“We understand.  Well have everything ready for when you all return later.”

The copies of the Heroes nodded in acknowledgment before picking up the copies of the teens.  They leapt up onto the loft bed and up through the skylight, leaping rooftop to rooftop and out of sight.

“Such nice kids,” Tom voiced with a proud smile.  “Who would have through such young kids could be such amazing Heroes.”

“They are incredible,” Sabine readily agreed.  “One has to hope they got enough rest though when Hawk Moth was active.  I would hate to think they were putting their health in danger because of it all.”

With that the adults left the room, closing the trap door behind them.

The real Chat Noir had moved to the window at that point, Lady Fox smiling at the trap door after her parents.  They were proud of her, even if they didn’t know it was really Marinette involved in all those battles.  It was heartwarming in a strange kind of way.

“Rossi is chasing the copies,” he told his partner, an amused smile in his voice.  “Where did you send her?”

“To La Santé,” came her simple reply as she climbed to her loft bed.

Chat had to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop a bark of laughter.  His Lady had sent their stalker off towards Prison de la Santé.

“Trying to send her a message, are you?” he chuckled as he followed her up and outside.

“It’ll be lost on her.”

“No doubt.”

Leaping from roof to roof in the opposite direction as their doubles, it only took a few short minutes to reach Master Fu’s apartment, dropping through the roof access into a storage closet off the tiny kitchen.  They moved to the living room where Fu was just finishing the arrangements for the curing ritual.

A design was drawn in a white substance on the floor, chalk or salt.  It appeared ancient, vaguely Asian or Tibetan in nature.  White pillar candles encircled the entire shape, all lit.  In the center of the design was situated a bamboo mat with a small pillow, obviously where Adrien was meant to lay.

Fu smiled at Lady Fox, an amused twinkle in his eyes.

“Was the Fox Miraculous as useful as you had hoped, my dear?”

Both teens chuckled.

“Yes, Master,” the girl responded.  “Both for my parents and against a persistent problem.  Trixx, Tikki, separate!”

The tiny Fox kwami zipped out of the Miraculous to hover before Ladybug, giggling happily.

“Truly one of my best illusions ever!” he crowed.  “I would love to see that girl’s reaction when she realizes she was chasing mirages for a few blocks.”

Ladybug slipped the pendant over her head.  “You were a big help, Trixx,” and she handed the gem  to Fu.

He bowed in his hover.  “Ladybug, Chat Noir, always a pleasure to be of service,” and he vanished into his Miraculous.

Fu returned the piece to its place in the Miraculous Box and turned to the teens.

“Time to begin, my children.  Chat Noir, please drop your transformation.  We cannot have the remnants of the akuma feeding off that magic.”

Adrien did so without question.  Plagg floated near his shoulder, worry visible in his large green eyes.

“Everything will be fine, Plagg,” the boy assured, giving his kwami a gentle scratch between his ears.  “I’ll be okay.”

Ladybug held her hands out to the little being in beckoning.  “You can stay with me, Plagg, okay?”

With a worried keen, the Kwamin of Destruction flew over to Ladybug and landed on her shoulder, eyes fixed on his holder.

“Now, my boy, drink this down,” and Fu handed him a copper bowl filled with a rather pleasant scented liquid.  “This will set your energies to help separate your qi from the akuma remnants.”

Adrien stared at the potion for a brief second before heaving a bracing breath.  He downed the bowl’s contents quickly, not convinced that the taste would match the scent.  A taste of honey lingered on his tongue, followed by a rather enjoyable herbal flavour he couldn’t quite identify.

It was hard to believe this was a powerful magical potion.

Fu took the bowl from him.  “Good.  Now lie down on the mat and make yourself comfortable.  Ladybug, you will kneel there next to the pāvara apa sigil, just there,” and he pointed to a smaller circle just barely outside the larger symbol, their edges touching.  “Keep your hand touching the sigil at all times once the ceremony begins.”

She kneeled on the small cushion set near the sigil, hand hovering over it in ready.  Plagg sat next to the design, ready to lend any aid he could offer should it become necessary. 

In the center of the larger circle, Adrien stretched out on the mat with his hands resting lightly on his own stomach, eyes closed.  He focused on slowing his anxious breathing, recalling his martial arts training to center and calm himself.  He was pretty sure being overly nervous wouldn’t help anything.

Master Fu kneeled across from Ladybug, closing his eyes and pressing his hands together to collect himself.  He then looked across to the young heroine, offering her a simple nod.

She understood, placing her hand directly onto the sigil.

The design and symbols on the floor began to shimmer and glow brightly, pulsing with each beat of the small gong Fu struck every few second. 

A static electricity began building in the room, tingling against exposed skin with each murmured incantation from the wizened Master. 

One could taste it, a metallic taste on the tongue.

In the center of the circle, Adrien began to react to the power building.  Hands that were once flat to his abdomen bunched into fists.

The chants felt as if they filled every space in the room.

The gong sounded.

The energy in the room swirled higher.  Adrien’s fists slid off his stomach to press into the mat as if bracing himself against something.

The gong sounded again. 

A frown of discomfort formed on Adrien’s face, his knuckles going white.

The air felt heavy from the constant chanting.

Again, the gong sounded.

The chants grew in intensity along with the energy in the room.

Adrien’s frown deepened, a near quiet groan escaping his lips.

Ladybug nearly went to him in worry, but stopped herself at the feel of Plagg sitting on her hand.  The tiny beings expression was equally worried, even as he shook his head at her to stay where she was.  Her heart gave a clench that she would only be able to watch for the time being.

The gong sounded again, nearly drowned out by the chanting.  It sounded as if hundreds of people were now in the room, adding their voices to Master Fu’s.

Adrien shifted on the mat, his discomfort growing.  It was a burning sensation deep inside him, pushing from his shoulders and hips up through his chest.  Mildly he wondered if this was how the character had felt in that sci-fi horror movie, of the alien bursting out of their chest and the sensation leading up to it.

Again, the gong sounded.

Again, the chanting became louder.

Again, the pain Adrien felt increased.

Ladybug was sure this was what it felt to watch someone die and not be able to do anything about it.

The gong sounded again amid the cacophony.

A cry of agony was ripped from the boy’s throat, his body beginning to thrash.

“Adrien…!” Ladybug called out to him.

Again, the gong sounded.

Adrien arched up from the mat, screaming in pain.

“Please, hold on!” she pleaded.

Ladybug felt helpless tears trail down her cheeks, but she didn’t dare remove her hand from the sigil.

The gong sounded again. 

Another scream of agony.

“Just a little longer, My Prince!”

Again, the gong sounded.

The boy’s body arched at an almost unnatural angle with a scream.

And then he fell limp to the mat, unseeing eyes staring at the ceiling.

“Adrien!” she called to him.

He didn’t move.

The chanting continued.

The gong sounded again.

“Adrien!” she called again, desperation in her voice.

Again, the gong sounded.

The chanting continued.

The boy’s body appeared to suddenly glow with the same white light as the sigils.  It grew in intensity until the room became illuminated from it.  Then it began to bleed away from Adrien’s limbs, gathering over his chest.  It coalesced into a ball, peeling away from his body to float just above him.  It shrank in size, increasing in intensity, rising up into the air.

Ladybug seemed to understand what to do just then.

Keeping one hand on the sigil, she pulled out her yo-yo and, with the flick of her thumb, activated it’s capture ability.

She swung it out towards the light, easily encapsulating it.

And the room went quiet, the bright lights disappearing the allow normal ambient light to return.

“Master Fu?” she questioned.

He heaved a heavy and tired breath.  “It is done.”  The old man’s voice sounded so tired; the ritual having sapped much of his own strength.

Ladybug dashed forward to her partner lying still in the center of the circle, gathering up his limp form in her arms.

“Adrien?” she called softly in hope.

After what felt like  an eternity, Adrien moved slightly, a groan escaping his lips.  Green eyes blinked up at her in exhaustion.

A relieved little laugh escaped her.  “Hey,” she greeted, gently threading her fingers through his bangs.

He licked his lips as he shifted a bit.  “Hey.”

“How do you feel?”

“Like… I went… eight rounds against… Anansi… as a civilian…” he managed.

Ladybug cuddled him close, pressing her lips to his forehead in relief.  He clung to her arms, relaxing in her embrace, feeling Plagg nuzzle up under his chin.

“Here, my boy,” Fu announced, handing Adrien a large mug.  “It’s water.”

The heroine blinked at the old man, not having noticed when he had gone to the kitchen to retrieve the drink.  He was a lot spryer that he appeared.

“Is it… over…?” Adrien questioned as he took a deep drink.

“Yes, Adrien.  The akuma’s remnants have been pulled out and are currently within Ladybug’s yo-yo.  Their purified form can be released to the Universe when you are both ready.”

“You weren’t… kidding… when you… said this… ritual… would tire… me out...”

“Ancient magics are usually very hard on the body.  They were never created to be pleasant, merely to serve the purpose at hand.”  Fu looked to Ladybug.  “You should take him back to your home now and put our dear boy to bed.  I suspect he’ll sleep rather deeply tonight and well into tomorrow.”

“Yes, Master,” she agreed.

“And you should not stay up too late either.  You’ll soon feel the adrenaline crash, not to mention the drain of your own energies during the ritual.  Plagg, I count on you to explain things to Tikki so she may assist you with the both of them.”

“You bet,” the tiny being assured.  “Alright, pigtails.  Fu needs to rest after this too, so we should go now.”

She chuckled softly.  “Yes, sir.”  She then smiled at the old Master before her.  “I’ll call you in the morning to see how you’re doing after all this, and to let you know how Adrien’s doing.”

“Good night, my dear.”

“Good night, Master.”

Being ever so careful with her weakened partner, Ladybug gathered up Adrien’s form in her arms, retracing the steps she and Chat Noir had taken when they arrived at the small apartment.  Plagg buried himself in one of her pigtails as she jumped up through the kitchen access to the roof.  She was cautious in her trek back to her home, distinctively aware of the form in her arms who barely seemed to react when she swung from roof to roof or leapt over alleyways. 

Plagg chuckled from her hair, reading her thoughts.  “He knows he’s safe with you,” he informed.  “He knows you’ll never let anything happen to him.”

She blinked at that statement.  “He trusts me that much?”

“Bug, you’re the only one he trusts that much.”

Ladybug felt the awed blush race up her neck and over her cheeks at the admission from the kwami.

Giving her head a quick shake, she could see the bakery come into view over the next roof.  She stopped just before the last alley, looking down at the streets for signs of anyone who might see her.  To her eyes, everything was quiet and empty.

“Do you see anyone, Plagg?”

“Same as you, Bug.  All’s clear.”

A thought crossed her mind, bringing an evil smirk to her lips.  “Lila’s probably still frustrated she lost track of the illusions.”

Plagg huffed.  “Good, but if it was up to me, I would’ve gotten Stompp to drop her into the deepest part of the Catacombs, somewhere without a door.”

“Tempting, but no.  We’re the good guys and have to act as such.”

The kwami sighed heavily.  “Things were easier with my less moral Chosen.”

Ladybug chuckled. 

Leaping across the last alleyway, she landed lightly on her balcony.  Right now, her plan was to not alert her parents they were back until she had Adrien settled in for the night, make it seem as if the Heroes of Paris had dropped them off and left.

Being cautious not to jostle the boy in her arms and not bump his head anywhere, Ladybug let herself drop through her skylight to her bed below.  She could see her parents had set up the bed, that Adrien had been using in the spare bedroom, just below her loft bed in her room.  Warm blankets and soft pillows were set on that bed.

As light as a feather, Ladybug dropped down to the floor.  Plagg was already out and pulling the blankets down.  She set the boy down on the bed, cradling his head to gently set it on the pillows.  The kwami dove for Adrien’s feet, pulling off his shoes.  Ladybug carefully slid Adrien’s legs under the blankets, pulling the covers up to his chin and tucked them around his shoulders.

Adrien inhaled deeply at that moment, eyes barely opening to the dimness in the room just as she dropped her transformation.  Tikki took a moment to look Adrien over before floating over to a stash of cookies Marinette kept in the room for her to recharge on.

Adrien blinked, unable to really focus on anything.  “Where…?”

Marinette smoothed a hand over his cheek.  “Shhh, we’re home, Adrien.  You’re in my room.”

“… okay…”

“I’m going to let my parents know we’re back.  Do you need anything?”

“… so tired…”

“Then rest, My Prince.  Plagg and Tikki here if you need something.  I’ll be back in a second.”

Quickly but quietly, Marinette ducked out of her room down the stairs, finding her parents sitting in the kitchen.

Tom noticed her first.  “You’re back!”

“Shh, Papa, Adrien is sleeping,” the girl hissed.

He ducked.  “Oops… sorry.”

“How did everything go?” Sabine questioned, keeping her voice low.

Marinette offered a small smile in reassurance.  “Exactly like the Great Guardian said it would.  Ladybug caught the residual energy that was causing Adrien to transform and now he’s completely exhausted.  He slept the entire time we were carried back.”

“The poor dear.”

“So, it’s over?  No more transformations?” Tom asked.

“No more turning into Chat Blanc,” she confirmed.

“And how are you feeling?”

She exhaled heavily.  “Drained.”

“It must have been difficult to watch,” Sabine probed gently.

“It was.  I was told to stay put no matter what happened, but when he started screaming in pain, all I wanted to do was run to him and stop the whole thing.  It’s as if the akuma remnants were being ripped out of him.”

“Well, that explains why you’re both so drained,” Tom voiced.  “You’ll be staying home tomorrow, and maybe the day after depending on how you feel.  You need anything here, just ask.  If you need anything from school…”

“Nino and Alya already offered to bring us their notes.  I told them to hold off coming here until I call them.”

“Good.”  Sabine stood and approached her Daughter, placing a gentle kiss to her cheek.  “To bed with you, sweetie.  You have a boyfriend to dote on in the morning.”

“Thank you, Mama.  Thank you, Papa.  Good night.”

Tom smiled at the girl.  “Good night, Cupcake.”

Marinette went back upstairs, closing the trap door behind her.  For a moment she stood next to Adrien’s bed, watching him sleep in total peace.  Plagg and Tikki were curled together on his chest. 

It was hard to believe it was finally over, that he was finally free of his Father’s stupid action in a misguided attempt to create a stronger yet pliant akuma.

It was so surreal.

Here he was, Adrien Agreste, the love of her life, now a refugee from his own home.

He was Chat Noir, her partner in their battles for close to a year now.

His Father was Hawk Moth, the magical terrorist who had held the entire city hostage of their own emotions for so long.  And for what?  To bring his wife back from the dead in the belief that only she could make their family whole again?  With that goal, he had dared to alter an akuma to infect his own Son, the last family he hadn’t yet pushed away.

But the akuma was finally gone now.

Hawk Moth and Mayura were gone for good, by their own fault and hubris.

It was a little heady.

Marinette moved behind her folding screen and quickly changed into her pyjamas.  When she re-emerged, Adrien was still asleep, his near quiet snores the only other sound in the room.  Silently, she approached his bed, being careful as she sat on the edge of it so as not to wake him. 

She studied his features in the dim light.

Her mind teased her by superimposing Chat Noir’s mask and ears on the boy.  Knowing what she did now, she wondered how it was she had never seen the similarities between his two sides. 

Was it because she didn’t want to believe they were the same person?

Or was that his goofy nature as Chat Noir effectively masked his Adrien side?

Light fingers drifted over his brow, moving his hair away from his eyes.

Marinette carefully lifted the covers to slide into bed next to him.  Moving closer to his side, she lightly draped an arm across his waist.  He shifted in his sleep, having sensed her presence, turning ever so slightly in her direction.  It allowed her to rest her cheek to his shoulder more comfortably.  Taking one last moment to watch him sleep, Marinette finally closed her eyes with a tired sigh.

Before she knew it, she was asleep.

Chapter Text

Lila wasn’t paying attention to the lesson Mendeleiev was giving at the front of the class.  She didn’t believe this science stuff, Lila thought it might be physics or something intangible like that, would be useful later in the life she had planned for herself anyway.  The rich and powerful had no use for science or anything boring taught in school.  It really didn’t matter what she attempted to teach her, she would just spin some sob tale to one of her classmates to give her their notes or do whatever assignment they were given for her.

What story would she give this time around?

An environmental initiative at the Mairie that required her attention for the next few days or weeks?  Those were usually pretty popular in this class.

A last-minute trip with her Ambassador Mother to some foreign and exotic land to assist with delicate negotiations due to her extensive knowledge and experience in such matters?  That might work with Rose and Mylene more than the others in the class.

A medical emergency involving one of the many celebrities she told they all she was tied to?  Maybe Clara Nightingale having an allergic reaction to strawberries or something along those lines?  Maybe she would back-pocket that one for now, celebrities had less and less sway with her classmates these days for some odd reason.

A medical emergency regarding one of the many illnesses she claimed she had?  Perhaps a  flare up of her tinnitus, or maybe something a little more impressive.  She had an entire medical journal of things she could suffer from that wouldn’t restrict her from moving about the city or from modeling.  Regardless of what she claimed, none of her classmates had access to anyone who could debunk any of it without risking a privacy breach. 

Right now, none of that really mattered.

School and school work were the furthest things on her mind.

She looked at her phone sitting on her desk and frowned at it’s continued silence.

By her timeline, it should have registered a message from TVi already with the date and time of her interview.  By her timeline, she should have actually had the interview already. 

They were terribly late, by her timeline.

She had hoped for things to have gone forward and have been finished by Christmas.

What were they waiting for?

From her research into TVi, their cast of people who could possibly interview her were all incompetent, so there was no possible way this delay was caused by them researching her.  What she had seen, they couldn’t even conduct a proper interview with Ladybug and Chat Noir before losing all control and having the pair walk out, insulted. 

Maybe the TVi research team were busy researching the Agrestes and the Dupain-Chengs since they were both involved in the gossip Lila had spread.  If this is what they were doing, they were inadvertently helping Lila ensure the scandal would be huge and her climb to fame would be assured.  She would let the interviewer present the information they found, and then unleash her special brand of gossip relating to each piece.

Who didn’t just feel for and love a story about a poor little teenager being taken advantage of by a global national organization, or inexplicably shunned by Paris’ premier bakery?

She would lead the interviewer by the nose, make it seem like these where his or her questions while slowly and carefully driving each coffin nail into place against all her enemies.

She just had to keep herself bathed in a victim’s light to garner maximum public sympathy.

Meanwhile, Adrien and Dupain-Cheng had been absent from class for the last week.  This didn’t help Lila’s plans to sow some kind of discord between the two.  Alya wasn’t telling her anything about why they were away even when Lila was sure the girl knew very well where they were or what had happened, just as much of the class was silent on the matter, but thankfully Rose and Mylène were ready sources of information.  All she needed to do to make either of them crack was to isolate them from everyone else and lay on the guilt thick enough. 

They were predictably easy to pump.

She had gotten minimal information from Mylène, but her tactic had worked until Ivan came looking for her.

Supposedly, Adrien and Dupain-Cheng’s absence was tied to that mysterious appointment they had mentioned last week.  Mylène hadn’t known what the appointment was about, only that Adrien and Dupain-Cheng had gone together and now both were not in a state to be able to come to school.  That made Lila even more determined to find out what that appointment had been about.

An appointment that involved them both was relatively unheard of.  Had they been related, then she could understand that, family members were often times allowed to sit in to certain medical appointments.

An interestingly evil thought crossed Lila’s mind to turn up the scandal on both the Agreste family and the Dupain-Chengs.  They had practically handed this possibility on a silver platter.  She could spread the rumor that Adrien and the half breed had been a lot closer than anyone had imagined, that they had been intimate and recklessly so.  The appointment was to see a doctor to either fix the problem they caused themselves, or to have it safely come to term at Dupain-Cheng’s age.

Lila had to bite her tongue hard to keep herself from laughing in giddy delight.

She could spin it into a way that this was how Dupain-Cheng kept control on the teen male, that this was how she had practically ordered him to break off all contact with Lila and lie about her harassment towards him.

Gabriel had gotten involved in it all to help with the cover-up due to the Agreste public status and image, and was subsequently blackmailed by the Chinese pest.

Yes, that would be some fantastic fodder for the tabloids.

But she wouldn’t spin any of that until she got her interview.

No, the interview would be more useful to spread this tale, reaching such a far and wide audience that it would never easily die off.

She looked at her phone again in ever growing frustration. 

If not getting her day on TV wasn’t enough, there was also the difficulty with getting TVi to release the money she had asked for.  There was two hundred thousand Euro sitting in a trust account, just waiting for Lila to use it to advance her plans, but she couldn’t yet touch a single cent of it.  She could do so much with that money.  She could buy actual designer clothing an accessories to flaunt instead of the back-alley knockoffs that no one had thought to look at too closely.

Except Bourgeois, but she was the kind of person Lila was aspiring to be so I was no surprise she could spot fake designer goods.

Soon enough, though, Lila would have money like the Mayor’s Daughter, she would have popularity, she would have power.

For now, she was denied they money that was rightfully hers.

Part of her chided herself for signing that contract with that TVi producer and lawyer, but then she wouldn’t have gotten the money otherwise.  None of the other television stations had nearly as much money as TVi in their operating budget to be able to pay her even a fraction of what she was getting after this interview.

Lila vaguely heard Mendeleiev tell the class their next class would be a free period, but they had to remain in the room and be quiet.

She tapped her stylus on the desk’s surface, barely hearing the class’s low drone, eyes fixed on her own phone.

Somewhere near the front of the class, someone’s phone buzzed.  Green eyes rose to see Alya reading a message that had just come in on her device.  It seemed to be good enough news that she waved to the Bourgeois girl to get her attention, turning the screen to her to read.

The blonde smiled at the message, showing Alya her own device screen.

Lila frowned at them both.

Secrets. 

She hated secrets, especially when she had no way of finding out what they were.

It meant important information that could be useful to her, but that she knew nothing about.

Lila’s phone pinged quietly, startling her out of her fuming.

She snatched up the device, cradling it close to her face, and unlocked it.  The notification was from her email app, a message had arrived from TVi.

A slow smile crossed her lips.

Finally!

The beginning of the email contained the usual greeting and self plug of the station, nothing Lila wasn’t familiar with or hadn’t seen in the thousands of other messages from other media outlets.  And then there was the paragraph she really wanted to see:  the date, time, and location of her interview.  The message mentioned procedures of how to access the studio and which set she would attend, also saying the interview would be allotting two hours for the program.

She felt elated at that.

Two hours.

Lila could do a lot of damage to her enemies in that time.  They would regret ever trying to counter her plans.

“You look like the cat that got the cream,” the Mayor’s Daughter accused.  “That’s never a good thing with you.”

Rossi raised her eyes and noticed the class now watching her.

Opportunity.

“I’m sure this is nothing any of you could possibly be interested in,” Lila dismissed with a pleasant smile.  “It’s just an email I was waiting on… from TVi.”

They were so predictable.

It was a complete cacophony of questions from all directions, not one being more comprehensible than another, but Lila didn’t need to know what they were saying.  She already could anticipate their questions.

“They’ve just being begging me for the last little while to keep my schedule open,” she answered all of them at once, her tone ever so innocent.  “With everything that happened to me, from my sweet Adrien suddenly breaking up with me to be with Du—Marinette, to Agreste Design dropping me as their prima female model for their label, to Monsieur Agreste issuing that protection order against me, well, the media has been practically desperate to interview me to find out my side of the story.”

Chloé didn’t look convinced.  “TVi wants to interview you?”

“Of course!  All of this was so sudden and very public.  Ever since my poor Adrien was akumatized.  They heard from Monsieur Agreste and Agreste Design about all this, heard all the lies and slander he’s decided to spread about me, but any good journalist will want to know both sides of any story.  With my busy schedule it was hard for them to get in touch with me until recently, and I guess one of the dates I gave them where I’m free actually worked for them too.”

“Well, hopefully that’ll mean that the truth will finally come out,” Nino voiced.

Lila didn’t quite like the smirk on his face.  It was as if he knew something, but wasn’t telling what that something was.  Seeing as this was Nino, she wasn’t sure if that was just him trying to sound knowledgeable or if there was something more here she wasn’t privy to.  Seeing how he was spending his time with Alya who was hanging around the Bourgeois girl, it didn’t bode well.

She really hated secrets.

“When will the interview be?” Mylène asked.

A welcome return to the story at hand. 

“This Monday at seven,” she readily responded.

Kim sat up a little straighter, almost as if he had been startled by something, receiving what Lila could have sworn was a prompting look from Max. 

“Hey, Chloé, you think we could have a watch party at the Royale Paris?  You know, to show our support?”

The blonde looked down at her nails in disinterested.  “I’d have to ask Daddy, but what’s in it for me?”

“Our undying gratitude?” Nathaniel offered.

She hummed as if the offer was lacking.  “I could probably use it to call in favours from all of you.  Monday at seven?  Just don’t expect it to be lavishly catered.”

And the discussion dissolved into planning this viewing party.

Lila watched them all, keeping her thoughts and feelings about all this deeply veiled while wearing a mask of appearing honored by them all.  There really did seem interested in watching the interview.  There was a vested desire to hear what she would have to say.

She probably misjudged them all those days ago when they appeared to be pulling away from her control.  No doubt her paranoia at being found out as the fraud she was.  Dupain-Cheng had been her major obstacle to that, along with Adrien to a lesser degree.  And then having seen Alya and Bourgeois becoming less hostile to each other, friendly even, had made Rossi’s alarm bells go off.

Enemies becoming friends was usually not a good thing.

But here it seemed to work in her favour.

Sura, Alya ignored Lila for the most part these days, even having gone so far as to delete her interview as Ladybug’s best friend from the Ladyblog.  At the same time, her newfound tolerance for the blonde girl had turned Bourgeois away from anything Lila said or did.

Rossi was certainly not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Hope was not something Lila ascribed to, but seeing how things were progressing now, she let herself dare just a little bit.

*    *    *

Stopping his bicycle at the red light, Luka pulled out his softly buzzing phone to check on the message he had just received.

It was a mass mailing to the group chat Chloé Bourgeois had set up with Alya Césaire.  Everyone who was even remotely involved in the planning, or who knew about the plans to expose Lila Rossi, were on the list.

It was a slightly heady feeling knowing that he had direct access to Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale’s managers.  It was a powerful feeling.  But he wouldn’t abuse that power to try to promote himself and Kitty Section, no matter hoe tempting it was.

Chloé and Alya were counting on those in this group to behave to advance Rossi’s take down.

This particular message was to invite him to a viewing party for the interview Rossi was going to have with TVi.

The trap was set.

What devious little spiders Chloé and Alya could be with their quarry in their web.

He returned his phone to his pocket just as the light changed, allowing him to follow traffic forward.  The familiar streets let him orient himself, knowing he was close to one school in particular.  Not Françoise Dupont, where his Sister and his bandmates went to school.  That was actually in the complete opposite direction he was heading in.  The school he was actually close to was one of the many business oriented lycée in the city.

His school.

Tsurugi Kagami’s school.

The smile came so easily to his lips at the thought of the girl.  Once one got passed that intimidating demeanor she wore, Kagami was very fun to be with.  She had an almost impish nature, so willing to play and enjoy herself.

If it wasn’t for the imposing disposition of her Mother.

He remembered how clear that was when they had convinced her to go to Euro Disney with him after their first meeting.  She had been a sheer bundle of boundless energy, wanting to see and try everything the park had to offer, finishing their day on a calmer note by touring the animation studios on site.

She was a wild child who loved rollercoasters, and the crazier the ride the more she loved it.  It was truly a wonder that they had made it through so many of the locations throughout the park in just one day.

Discoveryland.

Fantasyland.

Adventureland.

Frontierland.

Main Street USA.

Luka also learned Kagami had a fondness for ice cream.  Specifically the soft serve in any of it’s flavours or shapes, though she agreed that the milkshake was a more portable and less messy option.

And she had been impossibly adorable when she fell asleep on his shoulder only a few short minutes after their train had left Marne-la-Vallée Chessy station to return to Paris.  Luka didn’t have the heart to wake her until the train had come to a complete stop in the city.  If he had to be honest with himself, it had been oddly calming.

He most certainly didn’t regret making it a point to swing by the school at the end of the day every chance he got between his delivery jobs.  The music he heard from her when she saw him more than proved she didn’t mind, even welcomed his visits.

Just like now.

He heard the melody long before he reached the school.  She was expecting him.  Part of him wondered if Kagami had come to expect him every day.  Maybe he should ensure his schedule allowed him to swing by the school more often.

He rounded a last street corner and, sure enough, he could see Kagami sitting on the school’s front steps absently scrolling through her phone.

Silently coasting his bike along the sidewalk, Luka came to a quiet stop in front of the girl.  She didn’t seem to react to his presence.

“An interesting read?” he questioned with a smile.

Kagami never looked up from her phone.  “One you have no doubt already read.  Chloé’s message to the group chat she and Alya organized.”

“Oh, yeah, that.  Those two are kind of scary now that they’re working for a common goal.”

“It would be interesting to look them up in twenty of so years and see what they have accomplished if they continued to collaborate.”  She looked up with a teasing smile.  “Speaking of futures, Madame Becancourt is of the opinion that your continued absence will be detrimental to yours.”

He blinked.  “As if having a job could be considered detrimental.  We don’t share classes, when did you hear her say that?”

“I have her class when you are supposed to be in Calculus.”

“And she rants about me?”

“Not just you, but every student who misses her classes.  She is a very passionate teacher.”

“I’ve noticed that from professors of literature.”

“Literature is not a subject you like?”

He shrugged.  “I like poetry well enough.  Helps for song writing, though Rose has been doing a lot of that for the band.  It’s the rest of it that kind of gets too heavy for me.”

“Depending on who the subject matter happens to be, on that, we can agree.”  She stood elegantly, smoothing out the skirt of her uniform.  “Will you be attending Chloé watch party on Monday?”

“Hanging out with good people at the Royale Paris, free food and drink, watching Lila Rossi get a very public comeuppance…  Sounds like a fun Monday.”  He bowed slightly from his bike with a playful grin.  “May I offer to escort my lovely Kichō to this soirée?”

She chuckled.  “Adrien-chan may have something to say about you accompanying Marinette-chan.”

“Oh, ha-ha, very funny,” he accused with a smirk.

She looked proud of herself.  “I have been working on my sense of humour and making jests.”

“Getting better.”

“I’m sure my Mother would be most aggrieved to hear me make jokes and light of situations, but I truly believe the ability for levity can be an asset.  I do digress though.  You asked me a question, whether it be in jest or honestly, and I do owe you a response.”

“It was an honest question.”

“Which most definitely deserves an honest question.  I would be honoured to be on your arm for that evening, Luka-kun.”

“That’s awesome!  Chloé says the show starts at seven, so I’ll pick you up at six?”

She laughed quietly at his happy expression, and he blinked at her in curiosity.

“Gomen ne, you reminded me of Adrien-chan when he learned of the possibility of perhaps meeting Ladybug.  Marinette-chan once had to point it out to me, I had yet to witness it firsthand.  So much like an eager puppy.”

He scrunched his nose, mulling over the comparison, and then seemingly accepting it.  “I’ve been called worse.”

Now it was her turn to blink, a deep concern settling on her face.  “Nani?  Someone insulted you?”

“It’s been a while now, so it’s not a big deal—”

“I want names, Saiai,” she demanded.  “Who dared insult you in such a manner?”

Luka laughed gently as he set his bike onto its kickstand in order to approach the girl.  He cradled her face between his hands, effectively silencing and seemingly calming her rage.

“It’s been years since that, Kichō,” he soothed.  “They’ve long since left Paris, maybe even France.  Besides, they’re not worth it anymore.”

“Fukushū wa saikō no samui ryōridesu,” she muttered with a pout.  Then, to his confused look, “Ah, gomen…  Revenge is a dish best served cold.”

He chuckled.  “Yes, cold, not old and moldy.”

“Mou, I still feel the need to met out some retribution.”

“My honor is fine, Kichō, it’s not demanding satisfaction.” 

He looked at her critically for a moment, placing his hands on her shoulders, listening to her music.  There was an incoherence in her tune, coming very close to being disorganized.  Luka remembered hearing this when they had met up at one of her fencing practices, the one that had started after last class and had gone long past dinnertime.

“You skipped lunch, didn’t you?” he questioned.

“Nani?”

“Your music sounds off like you can’t concentrate.”

He saw Kagami bite the inside of her cheek before she sighed.  “I wanted to finish a section in a report before I lost my train of thought.  I went longer than intended.”

“When is Tatsu supposed to pick you up?” he asked, still marvelling that her self-driving car had a name.

“It is running late, there was an accident on the other side of the city where it left Mother and it has yet to be cleared.”

“Good, then you have plenty of time to accompany me to the snack bar over on the next street.”

“Snack bar?”

“You’re blood sugar is dropping and I don’t think the city is ready for a hypoglycemic Kagami going on a hunger rage.  I might just be saving the lives of your household staff by making sure you eat right now.”

She pouted cutely.  “Now you’re just making fun of me,” but there was no sting to her words.

“I would never dare do such a thing to my Kichō,” he laughed.

She maintained her pout through her own urge to laugh with him.  Who knew this was the sort of feeling one would experience when in a real relationship?  This was more than the friendship she had felt with Adrien, more than the desire to put on a show.  In fact, all she wanted to do was steal Luka away and hide somewhere to simply talk or just to bask in each other’s company.

“I guess I could go for a small snack,” she made a show of agreeing slowly, as if the decision was so difficult to come to.

“Excellent!  And you can fill me in on when your Mother plans to serve Rossi so I can just happen to be there to watch.  I may or may not record the event for posterity.”

“I most certainly hope you do, especially if I cannot make it out there in time.  Whereas watching it firsthand would be most enjoyable, I will take a video if it cannot be helped.”

*    *    *

Adrien scrubbed his scalp with his fingers, lathering his hair with the products Marinette’s parents had purchased for him while he stayed with them.  It felt good not to use the stronger products his Father always insisted on.  Sure, they left his hair looking and feeling amazing, but he couldn’t use them in the shower like this since they were always so harsh on his skin.  It had become easier to just wash his hair first in the sink before jumping into the shower.

But this…

This was better, more comfortable, quicker.

This was normal.

And normal was something he had always wanted.

Rinsing off under the stream of hot water, Adrien finished his ablutions before turning off the shower and stepping out into the bathroom.  The mirror was covered by a thin film of condensation from the steam.  On the edge of the small sink, Plagg sat grooming himself in a very cat-like manner, licking a paw to rub it against an ear or the side of his head.

Bright green eyes looked up at the boy as he dried himself off with a fluffy towel.

“I honestly believe this was the longest I have ever seen you sleep in one go,” the kwami voiced.  “And this is even after the downtime you got from the forty-eight-hour modelling stint.”

Adrien hummed in agreement.  “Felt good though.”

“Yeah?  How’re you feeling?”

“Better now after the shower.  Still a little sleep stiff, but I feel like me again.  I’m a little surprised I don’t have a headache from not eating or drinking during that time.”

“Oh, no, you ate and drank, though I think you were still asleep during that.  I guess sleep eating is a thing.  Pigtails’ Mom made sure to bring food and drink every day and several times a day, and her Dad would clear it all away after a few hours.  I really do like those two.”

He pulled on his boxers.  “You and me both, Plagg.  Do you think it would be crazy to propose to Marinette in order to become a part of this family?”

The small cat chuckled.  “Proposing, yes, you’re crazy.  Wanting to join this family?  Line forms behind me, kid.”

Adrien huffed a small smile as he pulled on his sweatpants.  “Yeah, I guess we’re still too young to get engaged.”

Plagg shrugged.  “What do I know, I was asleep for the last two hundred years.  Laws back then were that kids your age could get married.”

“Kids my age rarely ever got to my age,” he responded through the fabric of his t-shirt.

“True.”  He watched his Chosen pull over his sweater.  “So, what’s the plan now that you’re awake again?”

Adrien kind of froze at that question, eyes fixed on nothing in the sink.  He slowly lifted his eyes to the kwami.  “You know, for once in my life, I actually don’t know.”  Plagg cocked his head, waiting patiently on his Chosen’s next words.  “I don’t have any sports to do, no modelling, no language lessons, no classes… I really don’t know.”

“Not necessarily a bad thing,” Plagg grinned.

“It feels weird.”

“Understandable, considering you’ve been over-scheduled for most of your young life.  You practically know nothing else.  Time to live it up now.”

“But what if I’m made to go back?”

“Do you want to go back?”

Again, Adrien paused as he thought about that question.  It wasn’t a simple, cut and dry question with an ever less simple answer.  There were so many factors… weren’t there?  Try as he might, Adrien had difficulty finding all those various reasons that were keeping him at the Manor.

“I don’t want to go back…” he admitted softly, his voice seeming to echo in the small bathroom.  “But he’s the only family I have.”

Plagg scoffed.  “You know as well as I do that’s not true.  You have your Aunt, and that creepy Cousin of yours.”

“But they’re in London.  To live with them, I’d have to go there.  I can’t leave Marinette.  I won’t.”

“Well then, I have only one word for you to think about that stands a really good chance to fix everything:  Emancipation.”  The kwami stopped his Chosen from arguing by lifting a small paw at him.  “Just think about it, nothing has to be decided right away.  Now, let go get breakfast, I’m hungry!”

This got a chuckle from the boy as he reached for the door, Plagg disappearing into a pocket of the sweater.  “Plagg, you’re always hungry.”

Exiting the bathroom, he approached the kitchen where Sabine was busy at the stove.  She noticed the boy’s approach and smiled brightly, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Good morning, Adrien!  Would you like some breakfast?”

“Yes, please, good morning.”

He sat at the cozy kitchen island shortly before Sabine began setting out plates of pastries and fruit.  A plate of various small portions of cheese followed.  Adrien could help the smile at the thought that if ever his dietician found out how much food the Dupain-Cheng’s were feeding him she would have a conniption.  Part of him didn’t care though.  At least these meals had flavour and were not boiled to death or baked to a dry lump.

“Where are Marinette and Tom?” he questioned as he ate.

“In the bakery.  Tom needed Marinette’s help with an order for macarons.  He says she’s better and faster at piping them than he is, though I don’t think he’ll ever tell her that.”

“Is it a big order?  I can help them.”

“It’s nothing they can’t handle right now, and you need to eat.  You can help with the packing up later, when they’re done.”

He chewed in thought before watching the petite woman putting things back in their place in the kitchen.  “I do mean it, though.  I want to help here, anyway I can.  You’ve all done so much for me…”

She tittered lightly.  “My dear boy, we don’t do this for quid quo pro.  Sometimes the act is in itself payment enough.  We’re helping you get away from your Father, and knowing what we do about him, I gladly do this for free and then some.”

Adrien blinked at her in confusion.  “What?”

Her expression became sympathetic.  “Marinette told us after your last transformation, that Gabriel is also Hawk Moth.  I’m sorry, Tom and I didn’t want to bring it up.  I know Marinette doesn’t like to keep secrets from us when it could be dangerous, so I’m not surprised she told us.  That, and she was very much livid that evening.”

“No, I’m okay she told you.  I trust you and Tom.”

Sabine smiled, honored.

“Did she tell you that Hawk Moth and Mayura are also now no longer active?” he asked.

“Yes, that she got those Miraculous gems off Gabriel to give them to Ladybug.  That was risky of her.”

“Father was probably too terrified of her in that moment to say no,” he chuckled.

She laughed.  “This is true.  Working so many years in our bakery has made her deceptively strong.  I hear broken jaws take a month or two to heal.”

Adrien shrugged.  “He rarely spoke to me before, two months of silence won’t be out of the ordinary.”

“My poor dear…” she lamented.  “Oh, but speaking of noise, your phone and Marinette’s have been pinging from incoming messages for a few days now.”

“I didn’t hear it…”

“No, Tom took them off the both of you that first night and put them in the living room.  He wanted you both to rest and knew a ringing phone wouldn’t help that.”

She went to the coffee table in the small living room and picked up one of the phones, handing it to Adrien when she returned to the kitchen.  He unlocked the screen, seeing a number of message notifications start to scroll by.

Joint messages from Alya and Nino, checking to see if Adrien and Marinette were doing alright and if they needed anything.

Individual messages from Nino keeping him abreast of the happenings in class while also asking if he was okay.

Messages from Chloé wondering if he was okay.

Generally everyone in the class was asking if he was alright, save for the obvious since he had long ago blocked Rossi’s number.

And then there was a notification of an email from TVi.

While he ate his breakfast, sneaking pieces of cheese to Plagg, Adrien settled to carefully read this rather lengthy email.  It was well organized to lay out everything Nadja Chamack wanted to explain.

How TVi had been contacted by Rossi about him and Marinette. 

No surprise.

How Rossi had sold them a video of Marinette breaking Gabriel’s jaw as she took something off of him. 

That would need a careful explanation.

How Rossi had also sold TVi a video of Adrien transforming into Chat Blanc. 

Of course she would have recorded that incident.  Anything to try to twist it in her favor.  Nathalie could help explain away whatever spin Rossi was trying.

How TVi had heard of the many pending lawsuits that would soon be delivered against Rossi from numerous different parties involved. 

He smiled at that one, reading the names of the people involved.  He would definitely share this news with Marinette.  Part of him was giddy with the prospects that Rossi would soon have to face the consequences of her lies.

The email mentioned how they had secured a live interview session with Rossi for the coming Monday.

He twitched in annoyance at that point.  This was what Rossi wanted, a public to listen to her lies.  And lie she would.

The message continued by asking if he and Marinette would be available to participate in this interview, the intent of which was to counter the numerous falsehoods and exaggerations TVi had identified in Rossi’s claims.

Adrien nearly choked on his orange juice when the read this last part.

The television station hadn’t bought into Rossi’s stories, and they were planning to debunk them on air.

A live and very public humiliation.

He was all for it, but he would need to speak to Marinette to see if she would be willing.  As Ladybug, he knew she was brave enough to be on television and face the masses.  He wasn’t sure if this was the same with her civilian side.

“You’ve been smiling ear to ear for the last minute now,” Sabine giggled.  “I take it you received some good news?”

He almost jumped, actually having forgotten that she was still in the kitchen.  “Oh, uh, yes…  Yes, some pretty good news actually, and it’s something Marinette will want to hear.”

“Wonderful.  Once you finish eating, just leave everything there and I’ll clean up,” and she went back to tidying the small cook space.

The smile of wonder and no small amount of gratitude came easily to Adrien’s lips.  He adored this about Sabine and Tom.  They never pried, never asked to know anything more than what was shared.  It wasn’t like his Father who demanded to know everything, every tiny detail, about his daily life; or Nathalie who had been basically ordered to know everything about his life.

Here, in this house, if he wanted to have secrets, it was allowed and even encouraged.

That was such a liberating feeling.

Finishing off the last of his pastry and quickly wiping his mouth on a napkin, Adrien thanked Sabine for breakfast and excused himself to the bakery below the apartment on the building’s main floor.

Peeking through the bakery’s back door, he saw Tom just finishing serving a customer at the till.  He waited just long enough for them to leave before entering the sweet-smelling shop.  Last thing he wanted was to scare the customer away, pretty sure that everyone in Paris knew about his past affliction.  He didn’t want it to affect business for people to know he was there.

It would also raise a lot of questions he didn’t feel like repeating the answers to ad nauseum.

“Good morning, my boy!” Tom greeted heartily.  “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly, Sir, a little lost.”

“Oh?”

“This is the first time in a long time where I’m not following a second-to-second schedule.  It’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but after having done this for so long, I’m not entirely sure what to do with myself.”

Tom chuckled.  “Ah, feeling antsy.  That, I understand.”

“Sabine mentioned you and Marinette were making macarons this morning?”

“We just finished; the last batch is cooling now.  Marinette is in the back if you want to help her pack them up?”

“Yes, Sir.  Thank you, Sir.”

Adrien went into the back of the bakery.  Seated at the large worktable in the center of the room sat Marinette, her full attention on folding and assembling cardboard boxes emblazoned with the bakery’s logo.  There were already a number of them on the table before her, but seeing the number of trays of bright yellow macarons stacked high on the rolling cooling racks, more boxes would be needed.

In a very cat-like move, Adrien came up behind Marinette to lovingly rub his face along the back of her shoulders and neck, all the while purring softly.  She squirmed and giggled at the tickling sensation it gave, a skittering of goosebumps racing over her skin.

“My sweet making sweets,” Adrien murmured into her hair.

“Three hundred fifty lemon and blueberry macarons.  Supposedly there’s a reception going on at the Ukrainian Embassy this evening.  They ordered the standard fare, and this special treat.”

He pulled away from the girl to stand at her side, tall with energy and zest.

“Well, put me to work,” he announced.  “I’m here to help.”

“We’re just folding boxes for now,” she chuckled.  “Once that’s done we can pack the macarons, and then raid the store to complete the rest of the order.  Papa will then drive all of this out to the embassy and their staff will do the rest.”

He sat o the stool at her side, picking up a box template to start folding.  “I got an email this morning from Nadja Chamack at TVi.”

“Oh?”

“They decided to give Rossi an interview on Monday at seven.”

Marinette snorted with a frown.  “Didn’t know TVi wanted to devolve into tabloid TV.”

“Not exactly.  According to the email, TVi doesn’t believe Rossi’s stories either.  I think maybe Madame Chamack is the one spearheading that.  Rossi might have made a mistake in not realizing that you babysit her Daughter.”

“More mistakes the little viper makes, the better it is for everyone,” Plagg announced from just inside Adrien’s shirt.

“Not that I advocate harm on anyone, I do hope she gets what she wrought on herself,” Tikki agreed from Marinette’s ever-present purse.  “The number of lies she’s told in her short lifetime; she needs to be held accountable.”

“Even publicly like this?” Marinette questioned carefully, casting a glance towards the other room to ensure her Father wasn’t in earshot.

“Knowing Lila, this might be the only way she’ll learn, if she is even capable of learning what her lies are actually doing.”

“Tikki’s right,” Plagg added.  “We’ve encountered people like her in the past.  Self-centered, narcissistic, power-hungry…  They lie, cheat, and steal anything and everything that will get them their way, but never once admit that they are the problem or that they have a problem.” 

“Good news is she stands no chance of being akumatized and causing more problems.  But the problem is she may become desperate, and who knows what she’ll do then, what she’s still holding back as her escape plan.  From our experience, as much as your friends hope this will end it all, this might make her dig in deeper.”

“We can probably make it harder for her to do any of that on air,” Adrien assured.  “Madame Chamack wrote that TVi would like me and you on the show as well to counter a lot of Rossi’s claims.”

Marinette’s hands froze on the box she was folding into shape.  She looked at him with wide eyes.

“TV…?  Me…?  You…?  Live…?”

With infinite patience, Adrien turned her on her stool to face him, holding her hands.  “Breathe; in through the nose, out through the mouth.”

And he breathed with her, waiting for her to calm down.  It was a good thing he had decided to discuss it with her after all, seeing her anxious reaction.  It was something they had worked on a lot since his akumatization: communicating with each other.  Both had noticed their lapses in the past, where so many issues between them in their Hero personas could have been solved, or even stopped altogether, just by talking it out.

This was no exception.

“Better?” he questioned when she looked less rattled.

She nodded.  “I don’t know if I can go on live TV.”

“They you don’t have to,” he assured.

“But I can’t let you face her alone.  That wouldn’t be fair.”

His expression saddened as he released her hands to retrieve a tray of macarons from one of the cooling racks, bringing it quietly to the worktable.

Marinette gave him a curious look.  “What is it?”

“Wouldn’t be fair…” he repeated quietly, carefully starting to line the confections into a box.  “No more than what I deserve for how I left you to face her alone all this time.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have.  I should have been a better friend then.”

She left her seat to approach him, forcing him to turn to face her.  Her face buried into the side of his neck, Marinette wrapped her arms around his chest to hold him ever so tight.

“You are the absolute best boyfriend and the absolute best partner I could ever ask for,” she breathed fiercely.  “Don’t you ever forget that.  I don’t blame you, I have never blamed you.  She was good at hiding what she did and said to me… and I never… I never wanted you to worry about me.”

Adrien’s arms crushed her close.  “You are just too good for this world.”

She pulled her head back to smile up at him.  “Only for what matters, and you most certainly matter.”

He returned the smile, pressing his forehead to hers.  “How is it you always know just what to say?”

“She’s your Ladybug,” Tikki voiced from the purse.  “Ladybugs always know what their Chat Noirs need.”

A smile tugged the corners of Adrien’s lips.  “My Ladybug…” he repeated whimsically.  “I like the sound of that.”

Marinette lightly scratched his back before a final smile returned them both to their folding and packing of boxes.  The girl stared at her fingers working on automatic, creasing folds and slipping tabs into slots to secure sides, her mind working on other problems.

Mainly the issue of appearing on TV.

She would have very few days to prepare herself for that if she chose to go.

She paused her thoughts at that.

If she chose to go…  Of course, she would go!  There was no way she would ever let Adrien face Lila alone.  That girl had too many ways to twist things people said to suit herself, so Marinette wasn’t about to give her a chance.

Marinette’s hands stopped moving, the decision made.

“I’ll appear in the interview with you,” she voiced softly to her partner.

Green eyes fixed on her, his own movements stopping.

“You will?” he asked, his tone hopeful.

She inhaled deeply in bracing  “Yes.  You know as well as I do that Lila has that very annoying ability to make anything sound good for her, make her look like a victim or hero.  While I know you can handle her lies well enough, where one of us is good, two is better.”

His smile practically lit up the room.

Plagg nearly whooped at the prospect.  “Chat Noir and Ladybug, even in their civilian form, taking down the little bitch from the pedestal she got everyone around her to build up for her.  It’ll be such a beautiful sight.  Tell me we can get a copy of the interview.  Please, please, please, I want to play it on repeat.”

“I’ll pop the popcorn!” Tikki agreed, her tone almost giddy.

This elicited laughs from the teens.

The next few hours passed in quiet peace punctuated by energetic interruptions from Tom who would come in to check on their progress or offer help between baking projects to stock the event and the bakery.  They finished packing up everything by midday, loading the delivery van soon after.  While Tom delivered the order, Sabine took over the front of the shop while Marinette showed Adrien how to make a few of them items needing to be re-stocked.

To Adrien, this was all so satisfying.  He was doing actual work, something real and tangible that benefitted people and not just his Father.  It amazed him to watch the different dough mixtures come together from generally the same ingredients, but depending on quantities and time spent, they all came out so differently. 

It was fascinating to listen Marinette talk about how, when she was younger, laminating the dough to make puff pastry or croissants was all done by hand: rolling it out with large rolling pins to fold over onto itself before repeating the process and refrigerating for a few hours between folds.  Adrien could imagine that was probably very time consuming, unlike now where the bakery used a dough laminator to do the rolling.  It cut the amount of time needed to refrigerate the product seeing how quickly the machine rolled the dough, requiring a human operator only for the quick folding.

He couldn’t even begin to find the right words to describe making the fillings for these pastries.

Custard.

Chantilly.

Buttercream.

Caramel.

Fruit spreads.

There were so many different variations and flavours.

It all looked so simple watching the mixes and forming and baking.  One thing he was sure of though, left on his own, something would end up catching fire, or he would mix up the salt and the sugar somehow.

While it was true that he was learning so much being here, he was under no illusions that he would be able to retain any of this information for longer than that day.

Sweeping the floors at the end of the day confirmed that thought, most of what he had been taught that day evaporating away.  In the twilight outside, it was easier to spot the paparazzi trying to take pictures inside the bakery without actually going inside.  They didn’t dare come inside, partly because of how French law was very much less tolerant towards paparazzi after the death of Diana, partly because they were terrified of Madame Dupain-Cheng and her fiery temper.

But that didn’t mean pressing up against windows was off limits.

Mildly, Adrien wondered what a picture of him sweeping a bakery floor went for on the tabloid market.

Over dinner, the teens had announced to the adults about the interview they would be participating in.  There were many questions, but what had marked both teens the most what the distinct lack of questions around Rossi and her involvement in what seemed like everything in their lives since her arrival.  Adrien especially took note of that, the fact they seemed more willing to believe what they were saying than the other girl’s past claims.

That was reassuring.

It was also reassuring to hear the sincere offers of support for after the interview.  No one had any doubt in their minds that this event would lead to repercussions, perhaps even leading fans of Lila’s to seek revenge in her name.

They all agreed they would need to be on their toes, and not for a short timeframe.

What they knew of Rossi, she played a long game, so who knew how long it would take before she launched her retaliation on all of them.

Despite the conversation topic, Adrien loved the talks had over meals in this household.  Not only were there others sitting at the table with him, unlike his meals back at the Manor which were always solo, but they actively engaged him in their conversations, no matter what they were about.  They asked his opinion and didn’t shoot it down if they didn’t agree with it.  They wanted to speak with him, not putting on false interest to fill the silence.

There was rarely silence during meals with the Dupain-Chengs.

They laughed, they joked, they had meaningful conversations about everything.

Adrien had to believe this was what a real family was like.

The teen also enjoyed the simplest thing such as washing dishes at the end of the meals.

It was so… domestic.

It was also something his Father would have a fit if ever he knew Adrien was doing manual chores that could damage his skin.  To be frank, Adrien didn’t care what anything he did with the Dupain-Chengs did to his waistline or his skin.

In terms of the amount of food and types of food he ate, he felt he had more energy during the day and he slept better at night.  No more bland and boiled foods his dietician prescribed, in such small quantities that it was a wonder he hadn’t passed out as Chat Noir before now.  He remembered how Sabine had tsked at the sight of him changing shirts in Marinette’s room when she had been trying on the clothes his partner had designed for him.  She had commented that one should not be able to see such pronounced ribs on a teenage boy. 

And then had made it her daily mission to ensure his plate was always very full and he had access to seconds should he want more. 

They were never rich or decadent meals dripping in fats or empty calories.  There was always a large selection of vegetables cooked in so many different ways and beautifully seasoned.  Every meal had some form of protein that was roasted, pan-seared, grilled, or stewed.  And there was always some side to go with it all, either rice or noodles or a bread of some sort.

Was this how normal kids ate?

His facial skin and hands had become rougher, but it was from actually doing real work and being exposed to real life.  He worked near the bakery’s large stoves, exposed to their constant heat.  His hands worked in dough and soaked in water as they washed bowls and dishes.  The butter and other fats did feel good on his hands though, better than those custom created lotions his Father insisted on.

He flopped onto his back on the bed the Dupain-Chengs had set up for him in Marinette’s room, stretching his arms up over his head without care.

Marinette chuckled softly at the contented look on his face before lying across his midsection, their bodies forming an X on the mattress.  She felt his stomach move with his out chuckle, otherwise he didn’t move.

“You look amazingly content,” she accused.

“Just thinking back to all my time here, working in the bakery and just being… normal.  I could get used to this.”

“Emancipation, kid,” Plagg counselled from where he munched on his coveted cheese.  “You’ll never have to deal with the butt wipe ever again.”

“He’s not wrong, if crude in saying it,” Tikki agreed.  “There is nothing anywhere that says you must stay with your Father, especially after everything he’s done to you.”

Adrien stared up at the ceiling for a heartbeat.  “I’ve been letting the thought percolate in the back of my head since you mentioned it this morning, Plagg.  If I decided to go ahead with it, it wouldn’t be easy.  Father would use every resource he has to fight it.”

“I guess it didn’t help that I took his Miraculous away or we could have used the threat of exposing him to stop him,” Marinette muttered.

“We’ll find something else to stop him,” Tikki assured.  “But you would be willing to try it, Adrien?”

“Being able to say what I want to do, where I want to go and when…”  He sighed heavily at the prospects.  “This is what normal kids our age get to do, right?”

She huffed.  “Like we’re normal?”

He had to chuckle, looking over to the kwami sitting on the desk.  “No, I guess we’re far from it.  But I would like the option to decide for myself.  To actually be allowed to say no.  But I know for a fact that Father would find some way to retaliate against me and whoever would help me get away from him.  That’s my biggest fear.  I refuse to be the reason anyone loses their future or business over.”

She raised up to lean her cheek to her knuckles to look at him.  “You say that like none of us wouldn’t willingly do it anyways.”

“I can’t ask any of you to do that.”

“Who says you’d even have to ask?”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.  I mean, just look at Alya and Chloé’s whole plan.  They put all that into motion without either of us asking.  We both know how much Chloé cares about you, so it’s not much of a surprise that she did this.”

“I guess…” he agreed reluctantly.

Marinette just stared at him for a long moment, resigned in the fact that it would probably take months, maybe even years, before she managed to convince him that he was deserving of the affection his real friends so willingly showed him.  Maybe when all would be said and done, he would be willing to accept to try therapy to try to undo all the years of programming Gabriel had instilled in the boy.

She decided then and there that breaking Gabriel’s jaw was most definitely enough punishment for the man.

“You’re imagining killing my Father, aren’t you?” Adrien suddenly questioned.

“Killing him is too quick.”

His bark of laughter and Plagg’s unrestrained cackle made her realize what she muttered in response, her reply having been automatic from her train of thought.  She could just see Tikki giving her a patiently disapproving, if not amused, smile.

“As much as I appreciate you willing to commit a felony for me, My Lady…”

She groaned, hiding her face in her hands.  “I know.  It’s a bad look.”

“Not to mention illegal.”  He sat up, forcing her to roll off his mid-section and onto his legs.  “Tell you what, we should go on patrol.  Just for old times’ sake.”

“Patrol?”

“Just a lazy circle around the city.  Clear our heads, talk about the interview coming up.  We do our best brainstorming when we’re jumping roof to roof.”

She nodded slowly in thought.  “This is true,” she concluded.  She got to her feet.  “Okay, let’s do it.”

Both teens called on their transformations and quickly exited through the skylight.  Taking only a moment to ensure there was no one in the streets below who would see them, they took off in the direction of the Trocadero, the usual start of their patrols around the city.

Tonight, there was no urgency to their circle.

There was no immediate danger that would require the Heroes of Paris.

This was just a night to blow off energy and collect their thoughts.

In a few days, their civilian selves would appear on television to assist in debunking Lila Rossi’s lies from the last few months.  The Monday night interview would most likely become the catalyst to a number a pending legal actions.

Starting Monday evening, the teens would need to have their guard up.

Who knew how or when Rossi would retaliate.

*    *    *

Lila skipped almost merrily down the sidewalk, swinging a number of bags in each hand.  She was in an excellent mood this evening.

After her Mother had a chance to review the legal documents from Agreste Design, she had confronted Lila about their content, but the girl had managed to convince her that it was all Dupain-Cheng’s doing to discredit Lila.  That all this had been the Asian girl’s doing in her plan to destroy Lila and take over her life and fame. 

She spun a tale of how Agreste Design had fallen in love with her look, her chemistry with the Agreste teen.  How Adrien had been completely enamoured by the Rossi girl.  She told her Mother how she and the lead male model had begun to quietly date in order to keep the media from learning about her and causing her difficulty.

Then she told her Mother how Dupain-Cheng had approached the fashion mogul with smears and slander about how Lila was bad for the brand and that she was merely using all this for her climb to fame.  Technically, everything except Dupain-Cheng’s involvement was true, but her Mother didn’t need to know that in order to buy into Lila’s story.  The final flourish to the tale was saying Dupain-Cheng was the one lying to Agreste Design, that she was blackmailing the Agreste men to both have Adrien for herself and to grow her notoriety.

Lila thanked her lucky stars that her Mother was such a gullible soul.

Then when the woman had heard about the interview with TVi, she had rejoiced at the prospects of public vindication.

True, Lila would have to bring out her biggest lies and weave them ever so carefully on television, but she was confident of her skills and that she would win over her audience with ease.

No one was even close to her level anyway.

To celebrate this eventual win by her Daughter, her Mother had given her access to her credit card and sent her off on a shopping trip for clothing to make her look glamourous, and not some meek wallflower being taken advantage of by Agreste Design.

Her outfit choice had been strategic: adorable, but she would be able to make it look just sexy enough to keep all eyes on her.  All it would take would be a subtle pull on the edge of her shirt to open it just enough, a slight tug on her skirt to reveal more leg.  She would wear sheer tights and her most risqué lingerie for maximum effect.

A faint whirring sounded above her, followed by a loud whoop.

Flying far over her head, leaping roof to roof, were Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Rossi frowned.

She hated them, hated them with a passion.

Ladybug had been one of the pivotal individuals who had stymied her claim to fame, planting just enough doubt in the people around her that she wasn’t outright believed.  How the insect knew all her fables were blatant lies was a mystery to Rossi.  Was it magic?  Was her civilian self somehow nearby to see and hear the truth?

Chat Noir was the same, not having fallen for her lies, being just a bit too observant of things around him.  After calling her out that one time about faking an injury to her ankle to keep him out of a fight by carrying her to safety, he refused to buy into her stories no matter how plausible she tried to make them.

But all that would end on Monday night.

Come her interview, everyone would believe Lila on her word alone, and Ladybug and Chat Noir would be pariahs.  She would paint them on level with Agreste Design and Dupain-Cheng.

Her lies were all ready, she had rehearsed them religiously every night since receiving the day and time for her interview.  Regardless of the questions asked, she would carefully redirect for her to answer in her way with what she wanted to make public.  TVi producers would clamour for more, seeing the live viewership numbers spike.  Lila knew any of the TVi reporters doing the interview were so hapless that they would never challenge her on not answering the question, instead providing her own response.

She smirked in victory as the Heroes of Paris disappearing into the distance.

She would soon enough turn the city, if not the world against them.

She would soon enough ruin Agreste Design.

She would soon enough destroy Dupain-Cheng.

And none of them even had a clue.

Chapter Text

Martin Boudot observed the set up of the interview stage with a critical eye on the perfect placement of chairs and tables versus where all the cameras and microphones were going to be. 

The table would have three very defined sides to it, all facing the numerous cameras.  He wanted to be able to capture facial expressions no matter who spoke or when, having requested split screens on each individual to be shown to the viewing public at all times.  Live social media interactions were also arranged to allow the public to pose their own questions, possibly in follow up to the answers given tonight.

Despite the commercial breaks, the crew would not stop recording video or audio.  It was why he requested boom microphones hung above where his guests would be seated.  If there was one thing he had learned over the years, you do not waste a single micro-second of anything said or done.  Even the tiniest thing could be very telling or revealing.

It was slightly under-handed, getting images or sound bites that the guests didn’t necessarily know about.  But it was also very highly informative, especially given that the Rossi girl was making some pretty outlandish claims, both to bolster herself and discredit others.

“Rossi will sit closer to the outside edge of that side,” Boudot advised the stagehands.  “Our legal and Agreste Legal have both advised the distance will be acceptable to be in line with the protection order against her.”

“You think she’ll abide by it, even here?” Alec Cataldi asked as he helped move some of the cables out of the way.

“Reading what we found on her, no.”  He sighed heavily, looking up to the boom microphones.  “How does a child get to this point?  How was it all allowed to happen?”

“Questions you can ask her.  We can always do a follow-up investigation.”

“Oh, I’m definitely doing a follow-up.  I want to know how involved her family is, if I can’t get her to answer tonight.  I find it hard to believe a fourteen-year-old can do even half of what we found without some adult complicity.  We found Gabriel Agreste had some involvement, but…”

“But…?”  Alec sucked the inside of his cheek, understanding the train of thought.  “Right.  Who else was there, willing or ignorant?”

“Precisely, but I think… I have to believe they were all very much ignorant that she was using them.  Everything set for tonight?”

“Ready to go, and I must say you’re an evil man, Martin.”

He chuckled lightly.  “She’s so used to getting what she wants, being catered to by those she thinks she’s using.  So how do you throw someone like that off their game?  How do you frustrate them enough to screw up?”

“Like I said, you’re an evil man.”

“A trick I picked up interviewing that professional con artist for my series on corporate trading.  I have a list of prompt questions planned out, and plan to wing it with a few off-the-cuff questions depending on how she answers.  She knows nothing about the other guests, right?”

“If she knows, it wasn’t from any of us, but I doubt it.”

“Good.  I want cameras to focus on her as they come out, catch her realization that she is not in control.”

“We’ll split screen it so people can see what she’s reacting to.  Other camps have confirmed they’ll be available to videoconference in during the show.  I don’t think we’ll ever be able to match the ratings we’ll get out of this show unless we get a huge scandal on the Pope with a live appearance by his Eminence to try to refute it.”

”You’re welcome,” he smirked.

Boudot had to admit, though, Alec was very much right.  Young Adrien Agreste was Paris’s Golden Child.  He was loved and beloved of the city and its people for being kind, generous, and easy on the eyes, something everyone readily agreed on.  And he was an Agreste, Son of one of the richest men in Europe. 

Gabriel Agreste.

Rich, mysterious, private, which made him a ready target for the press to ask as many questions of him as they can when he comes out.  The annoyed emails from partner stations for this scoop were numerous.

This was just lucky TVi received the videos and the story and not some less careful or scrupulous television station.

Boudot had an idea why the Rossi girl approached TVi first:  Money.

Her price had a better chance to be paid by a large station compared to one of the smaller ones.

He looked to the set as the final preparations were being completed.

This interview would have to be carefully navigated, cautiously directed by him and not this girl.

It would be his best work ever.

*    *    *

“… and every last one of my celebrity friends has gotten in touch with me and has promised to watch the interview, my moment of vindication to the world for how horribly Agreste Design has treated me.”

Those students still under her sway was gathered around Lila Rossi just before the beginning of the school day.  They still hung on her every word, still clung to the truths she crafted around herself to make herself equal to those she often spoke of.

These pathetic children didn’t know it, but they were advancing her plans by repeating her tales to anyone who would listen.

At least she still had an audience in the lower class men, considering Bustier’s class was very close to shunning her, despite their latest claim of gathering together to watch the interview.  Lila was sure if they ever found out any of her stories were fake, she would be done for.  Though, she wasn’t entirely sure they didn’t already know.

Which made the watch party confusing.

But these students here were still oblivious.

“My classmates say they’ll be having a watch party tonight, but with the way they’ve been treating me lately, they might just be messing with me.”

“That’s just so horrible, Lila!” one young girl wailed.

She put on her best pout for effect.  “There’s little I can do about it.  I mean, you’ve all seen how incompetent the teachers are around here.”

At least, they all believed they were incompetent, as per her claims.  Twisting normal teaching behaviours into something more sinister was so easy.

A professor showing a little more attention towards one student over another?  They obviously disliked that student and didn’t feel they were worth their time.  Never mind that the student they were attending maybe needed a little more help on the topic at hand.

A teacher piling on the work despite students groaning about the workload?  They were just plain mean and didn’t want students to have free time.  That this was material needed to finish out the curriculum and advance the studies to the next module didn’t matter.

An educator selecting one or more students over others for a specific team or project?  It was just plain punishment for something that teacher in particular felt slighted by.  It wasn’t important that perhaps the teacher saw that particular groupings of students wouldn’t be able to focus on the task at hand, regardless how much they liked the subject.

That these younger students were too stupid to realize what was actually going on was not Lila’s problem.

That she could exploit it was all that mattered.

“You know we’ll all be watching, Lila,” another student announced.

“Yeah, we support you!” yet another stated firmly, to the agreement of the others gathered.

Lila smiled at all of them.

Stupid, pathetic sheep.

She would lay the charm on thick with the interviewer.  Having done her research on the TVi anchors and reporters, she knew she would have them under her special brand of spell soon enough.

She would spin her tales with just enough a hint of truth that whoever the inept journalist would be asking her questions would buy it and ask their questions in the direction Lila would be leading them in.

Rossi would make sure to subtle prompt his or her questions to build herself up, a skill she had honed over the years.

She wanted to laugh.

How easy it would all be to become a star while destroying everyone who ever tried to stop her claims.

They had made it easy for her.

After tonight, no one would ever dare doubt her ever again and she would be richer by two hundred thousand Euros.

After tonight, the world would be hers.

It would aptly make up for all she had to endure until then.

“You’re all so wonderful!  My true friends,” she cooed, further wrapping all these younger students around her little finger.  “But I should be getting to class now.  My teacher is such an inept and terrible woman, she’d probably give me instant detention if I was even a few seconds late.”

She waved at them as cutely as she could, flashing them all a bright smile, before walking away for the stairs leading up the second floor.  Her smile instantly dropped away the moment her back was to those students.

It was such a chore acting like she cared about them.  She shouldn’t have to put in the effort.  They should be adoring her, regardless of how she acted towards them.

After the interview, they would.

She took the briefest moment at the classroom door before entering with a bright smile, her step bubbly and buoyant.  Inside, she fumed that no one seemed to pay attention to her, but she also knew that after tonight all that would change. 

Alya, Nino and Bourgeois were in deep discussions, Sabrina taking diligent notes.

Alix was turned around in her seat to include the oversized oaf, Ivan, and his simple girlfriend, Mylène.  Behind them, the jock and the wannabe brainiac were leaned over their desk to participate in their discussion, Nathaniel standing next to their desks to contribute as well.

And at the front of the class, Dupain-Cheng and sweet Adrien were leaned against each other to review something on a tablet the Asian girl held.  Neither of them acknowledged that Lila was even there, so engrossed in whatever was on the device.  That irritated her more than being ignored by her other classmates.

Stifling a growl at all of them, Lila made her way to her seat, unceremoniously plunking herself down in her seat in annoyance.

All she had to do was make it through this school day.

She just needed to ignore them as much as they seemed to be ignoring her.

Just a few hours, and then they would be begging her to be their friend. 

Well, maybe not Dupain-Cheng.  She was a stubborn little bitch in her convictions, regardless of what anyone said, but Gabriel would force Adrien to break off with her and link him with Lila.  With the media fervor Rossi planned on kicking up tonight, he would have no choice than follow this course of action.  The brainless masses out there would demand it after seeing Lila whimper and bemoan her unfair treatment by the multinational.

But for now, she would have to suffer the rest of the day.

History was first.

Oh, how she wished to be able to re-write history to insert herself into it, into key moments somehow.  Hadn’t she seen something in that book of Adrien’s about a time travelling Miraculous holder?  Now that would have been something wonderful to use, go back in time to make it favour her.

Calculus was next.

Lila hated math.  What would any sane person use math for later in life?  With the fame and fortune she planned on amassing, she could hire an accountant to take care of her bills and expenses.  And why would anyone want to learn and use the complex symbols and calculations from this particular class?  She was going to be a world renown model and actress, this sort of stuff was completely useless to her.

Earth Science was her next class.

If ever a useless class existed, above all others, it was this class.  There was absolutely nothing of value for learning about animals, how many there were, which were endangered, or about plants and why they were so important and needed to be protected from farm development.  Again, as a model and actress, she didn’t need any of it.  Sure, she knew plants and animals were used to create clothing, but didn’t the world need food?  Didn’t the world need farmers to be able to grow that food?  And didn’t they need to clear space for those farms?  Yes, on all counts.  She’d let the pathetic Mylènes and Roses of the world handle that.

Lila held court with the younger students from that morning at lunch time.  It seemed they had stirred themselves into an excited frenzy, drawing more students and even a few teachers into their anticipation for the interview that evening.

Probably if she told them to jump off a cliff to show their devotion to her, they would do it.

Maybe not, but at least their zeal earned her a free lunch and endless fawning.

The afternoon was dominated by Mendeleiev and her strict science classes.  It also ensured the afternoon was beyond boring for the Italian teen. 

Physics had nothing to do with acting or modelling.  Even if it did, the little people on the sets were handling it.  Though she did have to make some effort at looking interested in the subject since darling Adrien was so passionate about it.

Chemistry was nothing more than a potion mixing class.  Mix this liquid with this liquid, don’t ever mix it with this substance.  Unless Mendeleiev could make it about cosmetics or skin care, Lila had no interest other than to try to impress Adrien.

But he was completely focused on his studies or helping Dupain-Cheng in these two classes to even notice Lila.

A mild explosion from Kim’s desk masked her deep growl of frustration.

Last class was on technology, one Mendeleiev seemed to have accepted that Max knew so much more on the subject than she did.  He was actually her teaching assistant, him and that little toy of his.

The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough.

Exiting the school, she glanced at her phone and noted a text message from her Mother.  She would be working late, yet again, but she promised to watch the live stream of the interview from her phone or computer depending on the situation.  She would also get as many of her office colleagues to watch as well.

While mildly disappointed, Lila figured it was the best she would get from the inept woman.

Rossi would grab a quick dinner from one of the cafés on the way to TVi, maybe a sandwich to eat while she walked over, the use one of the studio’s bathrooms to make sure she was presentable for the interview.  She couldn’t be taken seriously if she had food stuck between her teeth or on her shirt.

Lila did manage to promote herself to the small café’s staff at the counter, and anyone else within earshot.  A few more little people to watch her moment of glory.

Too bad they didn’t offer her a discount or free meal.  She wouldn’t be mentioning them during her interview.

Not that she would have.

Looking at her phone again, the instructions from TVi said she needed to come to a studio door on the side to come to the front desk in order to sign in.

A side door? 

That was so beneath her, but to go against their instructions might not reflect well on her.

Through the front glass doors she could see a crowd had gathered.  Velvet ropes had cordoned off a red-carpet area leading from the curb to the front door.  Rossi allowed herself a frown at that, partly annoyed, partly confused. 

She was the guest of honor for this interview.

Why was she advised to go through a side door instead of accepting the accolades of her supporters through the front door?

She would have hired a limo for the occasion, for optics.

Lila would make it a point to ask about this apparent snub after the interview, when people would be bending over backwards to ingratiate themselves to her.

For now, it would have to wait.

Lila could feel her excitement growing again as she approached the reception desk.  The time was drawing closer to fame and fortune.

She made a mental note to report this receptionist for the condescending look he gave her as she approached.  Rossi would see he got re-assigned to some mail clerk or even fired for this.

“My name is Lila Rossi, you might have recognized me from Agreste Design’s fashion spreads with Adrien Agreste both online and in magazines.  I’m being interviewed this evening,” she announced to him, her head held high, her expression proud.

This person had the nerve to roll his eyes at her, checking over a list on his computer’s screen.  Lila couldn’t quite tell if he smirked or sneered at what he saw.

Yes, she would get this peon fired.

“Elevator four, ninth floor, studio three at the end of the hall,” was all he responded.

Definitely get him fired.

*    *    *

Martin Boudot smirked widened slightly, watching the elevator doors close behind the teen girl.

Perfect.

Had this girl been even half as worldly as she claimed, she would have recognized him.  She would have seen right through his ruse.  He wasn’t just some receptionist, he was the one who would soon be questioning everything about her supposed life.  Boudot’s plan was elegant and designed specifically to knock people down from their self-erected pedestals.  It threw these people off to make them use entrances and services they believed were beneath their believed status.

And it worked with the Rossi girl.

He clearly saw the annoyance in her eyes, recognized the look from his years of interviewing people just like her.

A hint of doubt that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as well known as she believed.

“You should have become a supervillain,” Alec chuckled, approaching the desk.  “I’m sure you would’ve given Hawk Moth a run for his money.”

“I know her kind.  She feels she should be catered to like an Empress.  Take that illusion away and it throws them off.”

“I bow to your obvious skill, Sensei.”

Martin laughed.  “Let’s get upstairs.  The fun is about to start.”

*    *    *

Marinette’s fingers curled slightly into the suede of her skirt, part of her mind marvelling at the buttery softness of the material.  Adrien had insisted on buying the roll of fabric for her when she had mentioned how lovely it was, and yet how expensive it was for her.  She felt the warmth bloom around her heart as she remembered how he had playfully ignored all her attempts to stop him, how she had argued that it was too much of an expense, and how he had replied that seeing her tongue sticking out in concentration while she crafted the material into an amazing creation was more than worth it.

And she had turned int into something she was rather proud of:  A halter-top collar dress with cold-shoulder cut-outs and lace-up back.  The skirt had even turned out better than she had hoped, the pleats just perfectly so to allow enough movement and billow without being too much.

But all the while the louder part of her mind was being critical for the hundredth time that day for her selection.

“I should have worn the pink dress,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone, her mind’s eye showing her the pink coral lace dress she had created nearly a month ago that still hung in her closet.

“I like the blue on you,” Adrien countered softly.  “It matches your eyes.”

She smirked, giving him an amused side-eye.  “Flatterer.”

He grinned broadly.  “I try.”  He looked over at her, his expression tender.  “But really, you look perfect, as always, My Lady.”

She had the grace to blush, ducking her head with a shy smile, nervously tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.  No matter how many times he complimented her in the last few weeks, Marinette still found it a little surreal.  Her mind still couldn’t quite get over the fact that she was actually with Adrien Agreste.

And now here she was, sitting at his side in the back of the Agreste family private sedan, on her way to a television interview.

Granted it was to counter Lila’s lies, but still all a heady experience to be having.

Marinette felt his hand closed over hers and give it a reassuring squeeze.  “You’re nervous,” he stated.

A breath she hadn’t realized she was holding blew past her lips.  He could read her like a book.  No surprise now that they knew each other’s other identity.

“We’re about to counter just about every single claim Lila’s ever made here in Paris, on live television.”

“You didn’t have to come if you didn’t feel comfortable doing this,” he assured.  “I could have handled the interview myself.”

Not the first time he had offered her a way out.  That he was so attentive to her feelings and her comfort level just made her love him all the more.  She returned the squeeze of his hand gratefully.

“No, I’m not about to leave you to face her by yourself.  Where one of us can easily counter her lies, two of us is better.”  She smirked suddenly.  “Besides, Plagg would never let me hear the end of it if I wasn’t there to support you.”

“Damned straight!” the black kwami exclaimed from Adrien’s jacket pocket.

Both teens chuckled.

She squared her shoulders, determined.  “I’ve done almost a hundred interviews with just about every newspaper and station in the city,” she continued, more to psyche herself up.  “All I need to do is draw on my inner Ladybug and doing this interview as Marinette shouldn’t be any different.”

Adrien noticed the heavy pause.  “But?” he prompted.

“But…”  Her shoulders slumped suddenly.  “I’m catastrophizing.”

He chuckled warmly.  “You wouldn’t be my Marinette if you didn’t at least once a day.”

She pouted cutely and he tugged on her hand to get her to turn toward him in her seat.  Gentle hands cupped her face, pressing her forehead to his.

“We are facing her together,” he confirmed.  “Chloé said she and Alya provided tons of information to Ms. Chamack and her team about Rossi’s claims, and they supposedly have the best investigative reporter who’s going to be doing the show tonight.  We’re here to confirm what he found.  Rossi won’t be able to counter anything during a live feed with us there and if she does try she’ll just be digging her hole that much deeper.”

“Adrien is right, Marinette,” Tikki chimed from the girl’s bag.  “Lila won’t be able to refute all the evidence against her without winding herself into her own web of lies.  She created a Gordian Knot for herself.”

“Gordian Knot?” the baker girl asked, reluctantly pulling herself away from Adrien to see her kwami.

“Ancient Greek history.  King Midas tied an impossible knot to honour the god, Zeus.  It comprised several knots all so tightly entangled that it was impossible to see how they were fastened.  This is the same as Lila’s lies.  All her stories are tightly intertwined, but if one were to be undone, then all the others would start to fall apart.”

Plagg grunted in agreement.  “She tries so hard to hold all her lies together, to make them all stay cohesive so she can keep them straight.  But that’s also a guarantee that there are holes in her stories that she probably thought were unimportant or that no one would notice.  It never goes well for the liar, Sugar Cube and I have seen her kind all to often in history.  That the take-down ends up being this public, now that’s new.”

“In the end, liars of her caliber are always discovered,” Tikki continued.  “Sometimes it takes a long time for everything to come out.  But Lila left just enough inconsistencies in her stories that people started to question.  Alya started to question.  Once that happened, there was no stopping this outcome.”

Adrien nodded in agreement.  “Hawk Moth and Mayura are out of commission which means that no matter what Rossi tries, she can’t use an amok or being akumatized to attack us or use as a defence somehow.  All she has are her lies and we’re about to disprove them all.”

“I can’t help but worry, you know,” the girl voiced softly.

He smiled at her.  “I don’t think you could have been such an awesome Ladybug if you didn’t.”

Tikki tittered behind her paws.  “My bugs have always been the great worriers as well as great warriors.”

Plagg snorted.  “It’s because they worried so much that my kittens stayed alive for as long as they did.  You got the worry-worts, how is it I got the reckless ones?”

“You created recklessness.”

The tiny black creature opened his mouth to argue, then seemed to think about the point.

“Yeah, okay, you’re right,” he conceded.

Glancing out the car window, Adrien saw they were just pulling up to the media building.  A crowd of people had formed near the door, held back by velvet ropes and a few security officers.  No doubt these were fans or the other media outlets waiting to catch a glimpse of him and his girlfriend.  It was no secret how much Paris had fallen in love with their blossoming relationship.

Some wholeheartedly supported it.

The more rabid fans tried to quash it in the hopes of their headcanon coming true, to little avail.

And the rest were the curious who kept the occasional tabs on the society pages.

“We’re here.  Now remember the rules, Plagg:  No matter what Rossi says, no matter how mad it makes you, no popping out into view and not a sound.  You might not be seen by cameras, but there’ll be an awful lot of people in that studio who will see you.”

“Alright, alright… Hey!  Why do I get the warning and not Sugar Cube?”

Marinette smiled gently.  “Because you’re the one with the hair-trigger temper.”

He pouted as he flew into his Chosen’s shirt pocket.  “Can I help it if I have feelings?” he grumbled.

“Tonight, you’ll have to fight them,” Adrien warned.  The car slid to a stop, and he gave Marinette’s hands another squeeze.  “Ready?”

“No, but when has that ever stopped me?”

Favoring her with one more smile, Adrien stepped out of the car before holding a hand out to her to help her out like the perfect gentleman he was.  Nerves caused Marinette’s blood to rush past her ears, almost drowning out the cheers from the crowd.  She focused on the feel of Adrien’s hand in hers, on his smile and on his eyes, and found the wherewithal to offer a wave to those gathered just beyond the velvet ropes.

They didn’t dally, entering the TVi building.

Marinette let herself exhale heavily from the sounds outside now muted by the glass doors, feeling herself tremble ever so slightly.  She never did like large crowds.  It made her feel trapped and suffocated.

“You made it!” a voice called.

Opening eyes she never realized she had closed, the teen girl saw Nadja Chamack walking towards them, a bright and welcoming smile on her face.

“I was almost afraid you two pulled out at the last minute.”

“We’re seeing this through to the end, Madame Chamack,” Adrien confirmed.

“Glad to hear it.”  She indicated one of the main elevators with an upswept hand, leading the way.  “We have you set up in one of the studio green rooms for the first half hour while Martin sets the stage.  He’s going to go through the past she seems to have created for herself.”  The doors shut and the three felt the gentle pull of gravity as the lift raced upwards.  “Then we’ll bring the two of you out to counter the claims she made after arriving in Paris.  We also have another guest who’ll join us in studio, and we have a number of the celebrities she’s claimed ties to videoconferencing in.”

“Sounds like you guys planned a veritable roasting for her,” Marinette marvelled.

Nadja shrugged casually.  “She lit the coals, we’re just forcing her to walk into the fire.”

Adrien winced.  “Ouch!  Remind me to stay on your good side.”

The woman chuckled quietly.  “You’re dating my babysitter, you’re already in my good graces.”

The teens couldn’t help but blush at that.

“If everything goes according to Martin’s plan, the entire show should take a little over two hours.  I should warn you two, especially you, Marinette:  There might be a media storm after this.”

The girl thinned her lips in determination.  “It’s expected.”

Nadja ushered them into the green room then, glancing around to make sure there was nothing missing.  “Okay, there’s drinks and snacks if you want any, bathroom is that door there.  If you need anything just ask, there’s an intern stationed just outside.  And if you need help with the media after all this, I’m a call away.  I’ll let Martin know you’re here so we can get things rolling.”

She offered them a double thumbs-up before leaving for the main studio.

Show time was in less than fifteen minutes.

*    *    *

Alya looked around the conference room Chloé had commandeered from her Father’s hotel.  It wasn’t the largest of the rooms, but it was amazingly decked out.  Deep and plush chairs and couches, lots of cushions, low tables laden with just about every possible snack food that could be had, and enough beverages to waterlog a herd of elephants.

The far wall of the room was dominated by the largest of televisions screens Alya ever remembered seeing.  She didn’t see any speakers, but they were probably strategically hiding in the walls and ceiling to maximize sound output.

Near the television, Chloé seemed to be arguing with her butler.  The man was an utter saint to put up with the blonde the way he did.  He showed no sign of being affected by the girl’s antics.  Either he was paid very well, or he was just used to it, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

Occupying the various couches and chairs were they classmates.

All chattered excitedly in prospects of the interview.  It had been difficult, but they had all managed to keep up the charade of being eager to see Lila Rossi appear on television.  They were eager, just not for the reasons the girl thought.

After having heard and seen the proof Alya and Chloé had presented, all were looking forward to seeing the girl crash and burn.

The Mayor’s Daughter huffed as she came to stand at Alya’s side.

“Good help is so hard to come by,” she groused.  “So, is everything set?”

“Everyone’s here, Nino and Max made sure the connections to the TV work properly…”  Her phone dinged and she glanced at the message on the screen, smiling.  “And Mari and Sunshine are now at the studio.  Madame Chamack says there’s going to be an extra special guest in the second half.”

“Who?”

“Didn’t say.  Bet it’ll be explosive though.”

“Excellent,” Chloé gleefully gloated, rubbing her hands together like some movie villain.

Showtime was in less than five minutes.

*    *    *

From behind the cameras, Martin Boudot watched as Lila Rossi directed the stagehands around her as if she owned the place.  She was sitting at one of the three tables on the stage.  Predictably, she had been more than a little miffed that she was not seated at the centre table.  She had practically demanded to know why the tables were set up the way they were, making a point to loudly accuse whoever had decided on the layout of being a rank amateur.

At that moment she had demanded someone do her makeup to ensure she looked her absolute best, again being very annoyed that this had not been arranged for her before she even got to the studio.

Martin smiled as she complained about being forced into a side door, about the receptionist, about the lack of people waiting on her hand and foot.

She was being thrown off her usual game.

She wasn’t getting what she wanted.

Good.

The more off she was, the easier it would be to get her to slip up.

And she would no doubt throw a massive tantrum, or be completely scared and stunned, when young Mister Agreste and his girlfriend would be brought out.

More so no doubt with his other in-person guest of the evening.

Alec Cataldi stepped onto the edge of the stage, arm in the air to get everyone’s attention.

“Places everyone!” he called, stagehands and crew racing for their assigned spots.  “We go live in five… four… three… two…!”

He pointed to the cameras.

The lights dimmed.

Showtime!

Chapter Text

Just a quick note to explain why this one took so long: 1) I had to do a little bit of research into investigative journalism and figure out a good set/pace of questions I was having the host ask, not just to Lila, but the additional guests; and 2) Shortly after posting the last chapter I contracted COVID-19 and it took me down really hard. Recovery is slow, I am still recovering as of today, and it's affecting the creative process since I can't focus for long periods of time anymore.

So, I'm not making excuses, just explaining what happened.

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Sitting tall and happily expectant, Lila Rossi listened to the dramatic music playing for the shows opening credits.  Not exactly the selection she would have made, it wasn’t reflective of what her vision was for her story.  She had sent them a selection of music via her last email before the plans had been finalized.  She had also sent them a set design and lighting.

Seems as though they had ignored everything, this despite claiming her experience in media.

They would regret that decision soon enough when she would begin her tales of woe and of being the damsel in distress.

In the shadows behind a camera, she could just make out Alec Cataldi bringing a microphone up to his lips.

“Mesdames, mesdemoiselles, messieurs, bonsoir,” he greeted the viewing audience.  “Welcome to TVi’s special presentation.”

He paused, a move Lila recognized for dramatic effect.  If he was hosting the show and asking her questions, manipulating the show in her favour would be incredibly simple.

“Once presented to the world as the muse of Gabriel Agreste, his new prima model for the Agreste Design label, Miss Lila Rossi was on the fast track to becoming famous in the fashion world.  But after the akumatization of his own Son, Gabriel Agreste dropped her from his label.  He claims it was for liberties she took with his staff and other improprieties that came to light.  She claims innocence in all accusations against her and that she is being used as a pawn in a case of intrigue, gold digging, and stunts for publicity by bad actors and the design label.  Tonight, over the course of the next two hours, we will endeavour to dive into all claims and learn the truth.”

My truth, Lila cooed internally, pride swelling her chest.

This would be almost too easy.

“Your host for this evening:  French investigative journalist and documentary filmmaker; host of Green Warriors; top five nominee for the Prix Europa of the Outstanding Achievement Award European Journalist of the Year; finalists of the Albert Londres Prize; mesdames, mesdemoiselles, messieurs, I give you Monsieur Martin Boudot.”

Lila blinked, confused, as the studio lights brightened to illuminate the stage.

Who?

Martin walked onto the stage towards the central seat at the table, Rossi blinking rapidly.

The receptionist?

He was this award-winning reporter Cataldi had just presented?

No, that couldn’t be right, this had to be some sort of joke and they weren’t rolling yet.

She had never heard of this man.  And he would be doing the interview? 

She tapped an unseen finger on the back of her hands resting in her lap.  It didn’t matter who he was, she would lead him by the nose through her tales like she did with everyone else.  Reporters were all the same anyways, always chasing after the sensational story to garner ratings.

And she would give him a story.

The man looked straight at the camera, his expression serious.  “Bonsoir, and thank you for joining us tonight.  Internationally renown fashion mogul, Gabriel Agreste, was a former employee and protégé of Audrey Bourgeois before striking out on his own.  Garnering success after success for his avant-garde designs paired with classical and approachable styles, he founded Agreste Design and made the company into a household name.  Widow to famed noir film actress, Emilie Graham de Vanilli, Gabriel Agreste almost exclusively employed his own Son in his modelling campaigns, citing that only the perfection created by he and his wife could properly convey the image he had for his designs.”

Lila pursed her lips ever so slightly at that bit of information.  She didn’t remember anyone ever saying or printing that.  She had never heard anything about Adrien’s Mother apart from the fact she had suddenly disappeared or died under mysterious circumstances.

So she had been an actress.

Noir films weren’t really what she enjoyed watching, but if she could become passionate about the genre, maybe she could use the information to ingratiate herself to Adrien.

“That all changed a few short months ago,” Martin continued.

Understanding her introduction to the world was coming, Lila put on her most charming tinged with cute air she could muster, batting her eyes at the camera like some lost doe.

“Launching a new season, we were introduced to Agreste Design’s new female lead model who would stand with Adrien Agreste before the cameras:  Miss Lila Rossi.”  He turned in his chair to face the girl.  “Miss Rossi, welcome to the show.”

“Oh, thank you, Martin!” she gushed, acting like the star-struck schoolgirl he was no doubt expecting, but purposefully ignoring the conventions of politeness and immediately using his first name both in punishment to how he treated her earlier and to throw him off whatever game he was planning.  No one got the better of Lila Rossi.  “I can call you Martin?  It’s such an honor to be here to get a chance to vindicate myself and tell my side of this whole messy affair.”

“Yes, we’ll get to that.  For now, let’s have the audience to get to know you a bit more.  As it stands, they have seen you in the one photoshoot for Agreste Design, but let’s get to know the real Lila Rossi.”

Something about his look and the way he emphasized the word real left a bad taste in the teen’s mouth, but she ignored it.  Her overly cautious nature probably ringing alarm bells for nothing.

“Of course, Martin!” she smiled brightly.  “But I have been in several photo sessions and modelling events for Monsieur Agreste, as well as for the Givenchy label, and for Donatella Versace herself.  All of them said they loved my look and style so much.”

“Did they?”

“Oh, yes!  They said I had such a fresh look they had never seen before.  It’s why Monsieur Agreste hired me on the spot when he recognized me from all those magazines.”

“And which magazines would those be?”

Lila paused briefly in surprise.

No one had ever previously asked about which magazines she had claimed to be in.  Quickly she recalled every and all fashion publication she could remember.

“I… I was in Amica, Cosmopolitan, Elle, Vanity Fair of course, Vogue Italia, and Vogue Sposa,” she listed off, hoping this would quell the line of questioning.

“So, only Italian publications?”

“It… it is where I got my start before coming to Paris.”

“It’s just I find it strange that, in doing our research on you, we found no mention of you anywhere in the Italian fashion world.  We did find a record with La Polizia di Stato regarding some fraud and embezzlement charges that were never completed since you left the country.”

Her laugh was tinged with nervousness.  “Oh, that was all some big misunderstanding!  You see, someone had stolen my identity and was using it to commit such crimes.”

He didn’t look convinced.  “Strange that they all happened in places you were staying in.  But the only fashion related appearance we have of you is once you arrived in Paris.  What brought about this move?”

“Well… my Mother is a high-ranking diplomat with the Ambasciata d’Italia and she was assigned to the mission here in the city.  I’ve always travelled with my Mother everywhere she goes, it gives me a chance to meet such amazing people and see all these wonderful places.  Sometimes it feels like we’re always traveling, but the connections I get to make along the way are so worth it.

“Yes, your Mother, a Madame Benigna Rossi.”

“Um, yes…”

“Rather confusing when you claim she’s a diplomat when all we can confirm from the Embassy itself is that she’s a diplomatic aide.”

“I… oh, no, I’m sure that’s just an error in her title.”

A drop of cold sweat beaded between her should blades.  This Martin Boudot’s line of questioning was getting dangerous.  She had to find a way to reclaim the conversation somehow.

“Perhaps,” Martin replied, unconvinced.  “We’ve spoken to a lot of your school mates about your travels since they claimed you missed so many days of classes because of it, but we found some strange inconsistencies we can’t seem to reconcile.”

“O…oh?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure they were mistaken about the dates or events I was at.  I travel so often all over the world, sometimes I even forget the dates.”

“You mention being in the Kingdom of Achu quite a bit.”

Here was an opportunity to regain control.

“It’s such a wonderful country!  The architecture is simply divine, putting even the Taj Mahal to shame.  And the people are so friendly.  And the food…  Prince Ali and his family are amazing hosts when my Mother and I visit, letting us stay in the private quarters of the Royal Palace since Prince Ali and I are such close friends.  Some have even said they could mistake us for siblings by how close we are.”

“Strange you claim this when no one of the Royal Family of Achu, nor their staff, seem to recognize the name Rossi.”

Before she could answer Martin turned to the large back of linked screens behind him that flared to life, showing a stately looking woman, her hair hidden beneath a dusty rose colored turban.

“What was the name you mentioned?  Lila Rossi?”  She looked down to her tablet, typing in a few quick commands.  “No… No, there’s no one by the name of Lila Rossi, or even with the name Rossi, on any list of visitors.  What has she said she was doing when visiting?”

“She claims to be involved with the environmental initiatives launched by the Kingdom, and supported by the Kingdom to the UN,” someone off camera explained.

“Achu has been environmentally responsible for the last twenty years now.  Our initiatives a purely social in nature.  In fact, the Prince’s chosen charity to support is global children’s hospitals.”

“Thank you, Madame Secretary.”

The screen faded to black, Martin looking pointedly at Lila.

“N-no doubt you caught them in the middle of launching another of their wonderful social initiatives, they were probably too occupied to think of anything else.”

“This also brings up some of the inconsistencies I mentioned.  Speaking to some of your schoolmates and teachers, they mentioned your trip to Achu.  But speaking to another set of students and teachers, hey said you were volunteering in Africa.

“Sim… no doubt a simple error.”

“You told them you went to the MET this September.  The MET occurs only in May.”

“Did I say that?  Oh, where was my head?  I meant I was at the Oscars.”

“The Oscars are in March.”

“Well, like I said I travel a lot so it’s so hard keeping all the dates straight in my head, hence why I have a day planner.  Maybe I meant to say I was at the Milan Fall-Winter fashion week.”

“That takes place in February.”

“The Spring-Summer one then.  I do remember meeting some of Monsieur Agreste’s fellow fashion designers there, he introduced us.  It was such an honour to meet the great Audrey Bourgeois.”

“Monsieur Agreste and Madame Bourgeois were not in Milan for the Spring-Summer show.  They were in New York.”

“Oh, New York!” she grasped at, wanting to change this direction of questions.  “It’s such an active and amazing city.  I try to fly out there as often as I can to meet up with my many celebrity friends so we can go shopping down Fifth Avenue and eat at Le Cirque or Sublimotion.  Of course I can always get a table due to knowing the chefs at these locations, having met them and impressed them with my own skills.  Why, I was at Momofuku Ko back in October before this whole sordid affair.”

“Back in October?  When you claimed you were in Rome having a meeting with the Pope?  A meeting that His Holiness’s Camerlengo and his personal assistant both deny ever happened?”

“It… It was a private meeting not on the schedule.  Pope Francis is an old family friend on my Father’s side and has always made time to see me.  And… and I flew from New York straight to Rome for that meeting.”

“Do you often have access to such quick flights to visit your numerous friends?”

“Well, not to brag, but so many of my celebrity and royal friends allow me to use their private jets if I need to get someplace quickly.  I tell them they don’t have to, but they feel the need to pay me back for all the help I’ve given them in the past.”

“Help such as…?”

“Well, I often helped out the British Royal Family with the younger nobles.  Children love me.  I’ve babysat His Royal Highness’s children several times when their nanny couldn’t.  I was a shoulder to cry on for dear Princess Eugenie when some guy broke her heart, we’re like Sisters.  In terms of non-Royals, I practically saved Black Pink from a horrible fashion disaster before they went on stage, whoever had suggested they wear that horrible shade of puce should have been arrested.  I was the one who convinced Zoe Saldana to join the cast of Guardians of the Galaxy, and I was asked to pitch the script of Maleficent to Angelina Jolie, I used to babysit her children and she trusts what I have to say.  I managed to save the business of a Master Chef in China during my time there.  My Uncle-in-Law Cheng Wang, you might know him as Cheng Sifu, was struggling to perfect a few recipes to open his newest restaurant and I helped him with my extensive culinary background.  He named his restaurant after me, Hǎi zhī shàonǚ.  I hear it’s currently on the short list for a James Beard Award and to receive a Michelin Star.” 

Lila was proud of that last claim she had made up specifically for the show.  She knew it would be a slap in the face to Dupain-Cheng wherever she was watching.  That Lila knew a great Chinese chef would no doubt burn the half-breed.

“I had the presence of mind to run for Clara Nightingale’s bag when she went into anaphylaxis from eating those chocolate covered strawberries, we became such good friends that she has me listed as her emergency contact,” she continued.  “And, not to drop spoilers, but I managed to help talk Jagged Stone, for who I risked my hearing to run out on the tarmac to save his kitten from a jet plane engine and he showed his unending gratitude by writing a song about me, to star in a new movie directed by none other that Steven Spielberg himself.  Steven owed me a favour for my recommending brining on Stanley Tucci on his last movie project.”

“Quite a list,” Martin seemed to marvel, despite not looking impressed.

“The perks of travelling so much.”

“A load of bullocks, if you ask me,” a thick cockney accent intoned from the studio’s speakers.

Lila blinked in surprise.

“What?”

“I would never write a song about a little girl,” the voice continued.  “Why would I possibly risk that lawsuit?”

“Welcome to the show, Jagged Stone,” Martin greeted the rocker now appearing on the screens behind him.

Rossi felt herself grow pale.

“Thanks, mate.  Had to help set the record straight from all the hullabaloo I’ve been seeing online these last few weeks.”

“So what is the truth?”

“Well, one, I’ve never owned a kitten.  I’ve had Fang, my crocodile, since he hatched almost forty years ago now.  He would’ve eaten any other animal I had.  Besides, I’m allergic to real fur.  But I found an amazing designer to make all my costumes in fake fur, and she does a rock’n roll job of making it all look real.  You might have heard of her, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  Awesome girl, truly she is, love her to bits.  She made those killer Eiffel Tower glasses I wear at just about all my shows.”

Lila felt her blood boil.  No one ever told her Dupain-Cheng was so close to Jagged Stone.  Sure, she had heard whispers, but she had set some of those rumours herself about her ties to him.  It wouldn’t have been a stretch for Dupain-Cheng to do the same, but it seems her tales weren’t just fanciful stories.

And she was designing for him? 

Had it been her, Lila would have made sure the entire world knew this, but there hadn’t been a peep from Dupain-Cheng on it.

“Two, at my age, writing a song about a fourteen-year-old girl is just so bad for ratings and reputation.  It takes more than saving an imaginary pet of mine to earn the honour of getting their own song.  Writing about a superhero like Ladybug, that’s just pure gratitude for the two times she saved my life, not to mention to honor her for the number of times she and Chat Noir have saved Paris.” 

Ladybug!

Always Ladybug, always getting the praise from everyone when this was supposed to be about Lila.

“Three, no one talked me into filming any movie.  Only one person is capable of doing that and that’s my manager, Penny Rolling.  I’m currently taking a break from movies; touring is gruelling enough these days.  I’m not a young pup anymore, you know.  Four, who the Hell is this Lila Rossi chick everyone is trying to tie me to?”

The tiniest of smirks ghosted on Martin’s lips.  “You mean you don’t recognize her?” and he looked to the girl sitting off to his side.

“You?”  Jagged looked her over critically.  “Never met you in my life.”

Lila could almost hear that first metaphorical nail being hammered.

“Thank you for making the time to come on the show, Jagged Stone.  I know you have a busy schedule.”

“Anytime, mate!  Peace out, Paris!”

The screen faded to black and Martin faced the camera with a sheet of paper in his hand.

“We would have liked to get Clara Nightingale live on the show, but she is currently touring in North America and is unavailable.  We have received a statement from her manager which reads in part:  Our team is unaware of anyone by the name of Lila Rossi ever being in the presence of Mademoiselle Nightingale.  The only emergency contact we have on record for Clara is her own Mother.  Clara does have a common allergy, but it is not to strawberries.”

He looked up to Rossi who was looking very uncomfortable in her seat.

“Miss Rossi, would you like a chance to respond to these claims from supposed friends of yours and the supposed numerous claims of litigations being filed against you?”

Her eyes widened.  “Li-li-litigation?”

“Yes, we understand there are several currently in the works: Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale; the Royal Family of Achu; the British Royal Family; several fashion designers you claimed ties to; Nelson Mandela’s estate due to claims you were a student of his, but you would have been four at the time and for the last ten years of his life he accepted no visitors save his immediate family; the Vanderbilt family for claiming to be related to American reporter Anderson Cooper; and several other celebrities worldwide.  What’s you’re reaction to all this?”

Lila squared her shoulders; her expression suddenly determined and defiant.

“Well, this is obviously an attempt by Gabriel Agreste to discredit and bankrupt me all at once, without having to get his hands dirty in the process,” she dismissed.

Boudot leaned forward ever so slightly.  “How do you figure?” he probed.

“With his wealth and power, he knows and controls so many of those you listed.  Everyone knows how Monsieur Agreste is about perfection, it’s why he only used dear Adrien in his fashion spreads, that is until he saw me.  There’s a certain image he wants for his family and his company.  Whereas he was very impressed with my look and modelling abilities, he didn’t seem very impressed when dear Adrien and I announced to him that we were dating.”

“You were dating Adrien Agreste?”  There was incredulity in his voice, even if his posture didn’t reflect it.

Lila smiled brightly.  “Oh, yes, almost from the first day I arrived in Paris!  We had so much in common, and he called me absolutely stunning.  I think he was smitten, but then, he wouldn’t be the first boy to fall madly in love with me.”

“Madly in love with you, you say.”

“Of course!  We were inseparable.  I’m sure you saw the paparazzi photos of our many outings around the city.  He tried so hard to keep our relationship a secret, to protect me from the photographers and the fact his Fathr frowns on co-workers dating, but paparazzi can be rather dogged.”

Boudot leaned back in his chair, his expression critical.

“Yes, we’ve seen the photos.  Strange that the tabloids that did publish them all said they were mailed to them.  Also strange that our analysis of the photos show they were altered extensively, almost like you both were cut and pasted into those shots.”

Lila feigned surprise in order to hide her unease.  “R-really?  And yet I can assure you that all the events portrayed really did happen.”

“Like that rather risqué picture posted to his Instagram account?”

She faked some mild embarrassment.  “Oh dear, you saw that?”

“Every single media outlet in Europe, and some in the United States, were tagged on that particular image.”

“Oh, no!” she pretended to wail.  “I told him not to, but… I guess… when you so much in love with someone, you just don’t think straight.”

“If you don’t mind, I and the investigative staff here have a glaring issue with that particular photo.”

“Issue?”

“Yes, you see, Agreste Design has confirmed that young Monsieur Agreste was not at Agreste Manor that day.”

“W-well, they must have made a mistake.  It’s clear he took the picture and posted it to his Instagram.”

“Then he may be the first person in history to ever be in two places at once.”

She blinked.  “What?”

Martin turned to the wall of screens behind him as they flashed to life.  “We obtained the security footage from the Louvre the day of this fateful image.”  The screens clearly showed one of the galleries in the museum filled with photo studio equipment and people.  “Right here we have a very clear shot of young Monsieur Agreste speaking with his personal assistant, Madame Nathalie Sanscoeur.  We can also clearly see the date and time stamp for the security video running at the bottom of the screen.  This information is federally regulated and cannot be tampered with, by law and decree.”

The image shifted to have a side-by-side with the Instagram photo of Lila sitting on Adrien’s in a rather provocative pose, her clothes in a state of disarray.

“Here you can see the time stamp for when the image was posted to Instagram,” Martin continued.

“The picture was taken before the museum shoot!” Lila quickly interjected, hoping the explanation would stick.

“Ah, but we also verified the meta data for the image file that was uploaded.”

“M-meta data?”

“Yes, the information that follows an original file uploaded to a database or online.”  A string of code appeared on the edge of the photo.  “You can see here, the original meta data for the image clearly states the day and time it was taken, as well as the day and time of upload.  If we match up those times to the video from the Louvre…”  The video shifted to produce two still shots.  “… you can see here that both times young Monsieur Agreste was right in the middle of a photo session with his phone nowhere in sight.”

The screens went dark again, Martin turning back to the girl, noting the calculating look on her face as her eyes were still fixed on the inactive screens.

“Not to mention that it was confirmed by Agreste Design that no one, with no exceptions, were permitted to have their cellphones on them during the entire duration of the modelling session, so some ten hours from eight in the morning to just after six in the afternoon.  Makes one wonder how the picture on Instagram came to be and be posted?”

Lila fought hard against the anger and fluster threatening to take over.

No, she had to show just the right kind and amount of outrage, but if she went over the top people would be less likely to believe her.

“It really did happen like I said!” she near wailed, forcing tears into her eyes, carefully measuring how much emotion to show.  “It’s not my fault I live such a fabulous life!  No one ever believes me!” and she covered her face with her hands to fake cry pitifully.

Through her fingers she could see Boudot give her an almost glare of exasperation before he turned his attention to the cameras.

“We’ll be back after a short break.”

The lights dimmed slightly.

“And we’re out!” Alec called to the entire set.

Lila dropped her hands, intending to rip into this Martin Boudot for his line of questioning against her.  How dare he embarrass her and call her claims into question on live television.

But he had already gotten out of his seat and was disappearing in the dark just off set.

No matter.  She would make him eat his words in the next segment soon enough.  She had an entirely new story crafted in her mind that would destroy this man and restore her immaculate image she had curated as the victim.

Making a show to wipe away non-existent tears, Lila crossed her arms and leaned back slightly, turning her chair to have her back to the table and waiting for the commercial break to end.  Off in the distance behind her she could make out people talking, their voices just slightly more familiar than she thought was possible here of all places.

She could have sworn one of the voices sounded like Adrien, but he had made no mention about being here.

He was at the watch party with the rest of their classmates.

Wasn’t he?

“I have to thank you again for agreeing to come on,” Boudot voiced as he returned to the stage.

Lila didn’t turn around yet, giving the illusion that she was upset.  She was upset, furious in fact, but she wanted everyone to believe she was dejected for not being believed.  It made people question if her truth was in fact the real truth.

“We talked it over and agreed it was the right thing to do,” a girl replied to Boudot and Lila felt her blood freeze.

Dupain-Cheng?

Why would she be here?

“Only fair, we’re involved in this too.”

Lila spun around at that voice.

“Adrien, darling!” she exclaimed, hiding her surprise by passing it off as elation at seeing the teen.

Predictably, he glowered at her, placing himself between her and Marinette almost in protection.  The show’s host also didn’t seem particularly pleased at Lila’s outburst either.

“Not another step!” he warned as she made a move to approach them. 

“But… but I just wanted to properly greet my dearest Adrien,” Lila protested, putting as much dejection as she could in her tone and expression at not being able to approach.

“I have never been, nor will I ever be, your dearest anything,” the model growled at her, turning away from her.

“And the protection order is still in place,” Boudot added.  “The lawyers were clear:  You stay in that seat; and our happy couple is on this side of the stage.”

Lila snorted.  “Happy couple, ha!” she scoffed in a mutter, returning to her seat.

But she wouldn’t put up a fight yet, not with the cameras off.  No, she needed the world to see the pair get flustered as she hammered them with her own questions, this Martin Boudot be damned.  This was the perfect opportunity to prove to the world that their relationship was nothing more than a sham.  She would show the world that they were lying to everyone about being together.

They barely spoke before he was akumatized.

The four days afterwards no one had been allowed anywhere near Agreste Manor.

So how was it that after speaking for a mere few minutes before class on his return to school had Adrien suddenly decided he wanted Marinette as his girlfriend?

This interview would give her the chance to finally find out.

Lila leaned back in her seat, her posture confident to the point of arrogance, fuming as she watched Adrien and Dupain-Cheng take their own seats across from her.  Adrien was allowing the Chinese half-breed sit closer to Boudot, pulling his own chair as close as he could to the girl.  Just like at school, the boy was insisting on being able to be near Dupain-Cheng. 

It didn’t matter though.

Soon enough, with her own pointed questions, she would drive a wedge between them.  The public would demand they stop this charade once she was done with them.

“You know, you both made a costly mistake coming here tonight,” she voiced to them, putting as much disdain and derision in her tone, inspecting her nails casually.

Either they didn’t hear her, or they were ignoring her.

Mildly surprising considering what they knew she was capable of.

So why weren’t they reacting to her veiled threat?

“This will give me a chance to ask you both some very pointed questions,” she continued, aiming to get some reaction from them.  “I can destroy you both live on television and there won’t be anything you can do to stop me.”

The pair continued to ignore her, instead listening to final instructions from Boudot before they went back on the air.

She scowled.

No matter what he tried, Boudot wouldn’t be able to stop her asking her questions.  He wouldn’t be able to stop her from putting these two on the spot.

Soon they wouldn’t be able to ignore her.

“Places!” Cataldi called out to the entire set. 

Lila let a mask of dejection and utter sadness fall into place, forcing a few tears to form in her eyes, holding them back for now.  She would wait for just the right moment and let them fall for full effect

“We’re back in five… four… three… two…” and he turned to point at Boudot.

“Mesdames, mesdemoiselles, messieurs, welcome back. During the first part tonight we got to know a little about the supposed plaintiff in this tale:  Miss Lila Rossi.  For this next portion of the show, we’re joined by two of the other parties involved in Miss Rossi’s claim: Monsieur Adrien Agreste and Mademoiselle Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”  He turned to the two teens with a genuine smile.  “Welcome to the show.”

“Thank you for having us,” Marinette smiled in return.

Lila wanted to retch.

“While there isn’t much that the world doesn’t know about Adrien seeing as his life has been public for most of his life,” Martin began in setup.

Adrien chuckled.  “What can I say, I’m an open book.”

“There is virtually nothing we know about who Marinette Dupain-Cheng is,” Martin continued with a smile.  “Would you mind if we got to know a little about you?”

“Not at all, I have nothing to hide.”

Lila almost smirked.

We’ll see about that.

She’d let Boutdot set er up as the innocent little girl, then Lila would step in and destroy her.

Martin flipped to a page in his notes.  “In your last year of collège at Françoise Dupont, where you are your class’s representative, Daughter to one of Paris’ premier bakers, Granddaughter to a master breadmaker, Grand-Niece to a Master Chef, you aspire to study fashion design and enter the design industry.”

“That’s right,” the girl confirmed easily.

“The fashion world isn’t interested in no-talent hack,” Lila muttered just loud enough for the boom microphones to hear her.

Boudot barely spared her a glance.  “We’ve perused your Etsy page here at the studio and I must say we were all very much impressed by your works for someone so young.  Several of the staff have signed up to be able to get a design spot.  It explains why you caught the eye of so many celebrities in order to design for them.”

“I actually met most of them before they became aware of my designs,” she corrected meekly.  “I met Jagged Stone at a work study program at the Royal Paris where I was his gopher for the day and he asked for a pair of special glasses for his next concert.”

“The ones he wears at every show and interview?”

“Oh, no, those are the ones I designed for him years ago when he mentioned he loved Paris so much,” Lila tried to claim.

“We actually have a statement from his manager directly that those glasses were designed here in Paris a few short months ago by Miss Marinette,” Boudot countered.  Turning to Marinette, “The pair consisting of two blue, white and red Eiffel Towers for eye pieces, correct?”

“Yes, those ones.  He asked for something unique, not something you’d find at the tourist stalls.  So I went home right away and got to work.  I’m happy he liked them so much.”

“You also know Clara Nightingale.”

“Yes, I auditioned to be a backup dancer in her music video with my friends.  To find her main character in the video she pretended to fall over to see who would come help her.  She said she wanted someone with the heart of Ladybug.  But I wanted to dance with my friends, not be the main dancer.  There was an… um… issue regarding licences and permissions that threatened to shut everything down and she was akumatized because of it.” 

“Marinette was actually the one who suggested the video format everyone saw for her song, Miraculous, to help get around all the problems that kept coming up after Ladybug and Chat Noir de-akumatized her,” added Adrien.

The girl hunched her shoulders shyly.  “There were just so many good people who wanted a chance to be in that video.  I saw a way that they could all do it without having to worry about the licencing problems thrown her way.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Princess, Clara loved the idea.  Or she wouldn’t have taken you on as one of her designers afterwards.”

“Oh, those cheap little outfits in the back of her closet are yours?” Lila sniffed almost casually.  “Clara told me about the desperate girl who begged her to accept her designs, and the cute video she filmed in Paris.”  She coolly brushed her hair over her shoulder.  “She said it would have been better had I been there, since I know her style so well and can pick up dance moves in a blink, but due to my schedule she had to do an open casting in hopes to find someone of my calibre to fill my usual spot.”

“Funny how she never once mentioned your name, Rossi,” Adrien near snarled. “Or the fact no one ever saw you in any of her videos… ever.”

Ignoring the exchange, Martin pressed forward with the interview.  “Miss Marinette, Audrey Bourgeois sang your praises during her last ten interviews since arriving in Paris, all stemming from the hat design you submitted for a contest.”

“A Derby hat, yes.”

“I hear from some of your friends that this had been quite a fiasco during judging.”

“I hear she stole the design and was called out for it in front of Gabriel,” Lila accused, doing her best to hide her sneer.

Marinette frowned.  “More like someone else stole my design, but I was able to prove it was mine.  That was the issue mentioned.”

Adrien chuckled lightly, noticing how she wasn’t saying who the guilty party was back then.  “Marinette has a unique design feature that she incorporates into everything she creates.  It’s subtle and very clever.”

On the screen behind Boudot appeared the image of the Derby hat in question.  “There’s a unique design feature here?  Can you point it out to us?”

“Yes, if you flip the image upside down…” and Marinette made a flipping motion with her hand.

The image flipped. 

Through the hat band in beautiful gold script was written Marinette’s name.

“Ingenius,” Boudot praised.

“My Father thought so, awarding her the contest winner,” Adrien agreed.  “I wore a modified version of that hat during the launch of Father’s new line, where Madame Bourgeois saw it for the first time.  Marinette changed it due to my feather allergy; the original Derby was made from feathers.  But Marinette has always been this clever in everything she does so it was only natural that Madame Bourgeois noticed her and her design right away.  She tried to hire Marinette on the spot to bring her to New York, but Marinette wanted to finish her studies first.”

Marinette blushed and, again, Lila felt the urge to vomit.

But she did growl internally. 

Everything she had heard had never made any mention that it had been Dupain-Cheng who had won this hat contest.

Damn the girl for not boasting her achievements more often.  It made lying about her such a difficulty.

“Finishing your studies is always an excellent choice,” Martin continued.  “Building such an extensive portfolio, backed by so many big names in fashion, music, and other media, has pretty much guaranteed your pick of any fashion house around the world.”

“The fashion world is highly competitive and cut-throat,” Lila boasted.  “You have to constantly impress them or they will fire you on the spot.  I’m just fortunate my look and style are fresh enough.  Knowing how timid Marinette can be, I doubt she’d be able to last even a day.”

Martin ignored the comment, despite seeing Adrien’s eyes shoot daggers at the self-absorbed girl.

“Most of your family is in the food industry,” he continued.  “What got you so interested in fashion design over baking and fine pastries?”

“Well, like you said, most of my family is in the food industry, but they do a kind of designing in their respected fields.  So, you could say, I’ve been surrounded by designing.  I’ve always loved being able to create something, something no one has ever seen before or something that could be useful.  As a child I used to watch Papa create such amazing pastries, and Maman taught me how to balance flavours and colours in traditional recipes from her side of the family.  Recently, I got the chance to do some cooking with my Great Uncle Cheng when he came to Paris for a cooking competition.”

The look Boudot shot Lila, his smile, was borderline evil, as if he suddenly knew something she should be very worried about.

“Yes, your Great Uncle, as in Cheng Wang Sifu of China.”

The bottom of Lila’s stomach dropped to her ankles.

“He’s… he’s your Great Uncle?” she found herself questioning.

“Yes, my Mother’s Uncle.  It had been almost twenty years since he had been in Paris.”

Adrien smirked, seeming to understand Boudot’s expression.  “He had prepared his famous Celestial Soup for the contest, which he then renamed to Marinette Soup when he won.”

Martin leaned his chin on his knuckles, looking pointedly at Lila.  “Didn’t you say Cheng Sifu was your Uncle-in-Law?”

Marinette blinked at that before shooting a frown at Lila.  “Wang dàshū never married, so there is no way you and I are related.”

Boudot seemed to be holding back a bark of laughter at Lila being countered so publicly.  “So, would Cheng Sifu have named his restaurant, Hǎi zhī shàonǚ, after Miss Rossi, as she claimed?”

“Hǎi zhī shàonǚ literally translated to girl of the sea, or a better translation would be Marinette,” Adrien confirmed, his tone annoyed.

Flustered, Lila forced a laugh.  “I… I must have been mistaken on the name.  Honestly, with everyone I know, it’s hard to keep names straight sometimes.  My Aunt probably said Chan Wang or Chang Wang.  With her accent, sometimes I can barely understand her.”

“And the name of the restaurant?” Boudot probed.

“He… he probably works there and just wanted to sound impressive to my Aunt by claiming he owned it.”

Martin hummed, skeptic.  “But back to you, Marinette.  We were able to look up the traffic to your Etsy design store.  You’re kept quite busy by the number of orders placed through it.  How do you manage to keep all these clients while being the only one to fill…”  He looked at his notes to confirm.  “… over fifty original design orders per month?”

Marinette heaved a breath, realizing the sheer weight of her work.  “Well, I did set up the page with the help of my friend and classmate, Max Kanté, to limit the number of orders I can take.  Several of my other friends and classmates had mentioned I needed to keep my pace slow so not to burn out and, Max being a bona fide computer genius, offered to put a limiter in the checkout process.  We personalized it with text to explain why a person couldn’t order at that time and to please try again.  So far, I haven’t received complaints about that system.  In fact, a lot of other Etsy stores have asked if I could put them in contact with Max so he could implement it on their page.”

“I’m sure he charges for this service, yes?”

“At the insistence of myself and our mutual friends, Alix and Kim.  It’s a lot of work and he deserves to be compensated for his time.  Alix believes he should be charging a lot more than he is.”

“Your classmates sound like a second family to each other.”

“We try.  Like all families, we have our dysfunctions, but for the most part we look out for each other, and support each other.”

“Wish I had been in your class when I was in collège.”

Marinette offered him a rueful grin.  “But then would you have become the same person you are today?”

Martin chuckled.  “Too right.”  He looked to Adrien.  “A lot of rumours and speculations are floating around about your akumatization some time ago.  Would you be comfortable speaking about it?”

The boy shrugged.  “Sure.”

Lila saw an opportunity to turn the conversation back to herself.  She curled in on herself, her expression fearful as wide eyes darted between Boudot and Adrien.

“Be careful!  When my dear Adrien gets mad now, he transforms back into that horrible creature the Akuma turned him into, and he attacks everyone mindlessly!  He becomes a monster!  She’s goaded him into attacking me on the set of our first photoshoot when he came back!  Oh, it was just so, so horrible!  I was so scared!  I was sure he was going to kill me!” and she hid her face in her hands and sobbed loudly.  “Oh, if only Ladybug had de-akumatized him properly the first time!  Marinette would have never seen a chance to use him against me!” she wailed.

Lila noted how silent the studio had become.

Risking a peek between her fingers, all she saw were numerous tired frowns aimed in her direction, none of the sympathy or pity she was trying to garner.

No matter, she could use these reactions to her advantage too.

Her most pitiful mask fell into place, her bottom lip quivering when she slightly lowered her hands.

“You… you don’t believe me?” came her watery question.  “But it’s true!  It’s in my video!  You all saw it!”

The screen behind Martin blinked to life and, internally, Lila cheered that one of her videos would be shown.  She would be able to spin them in any direction she needed them to go to make her out to be the victim.

But it wasn’t a video.  It was a still image showing Adrien’s bodyguard breaking through the door to the dressing room.

Martin turned his chair to casually look up at the image.  “You claim that Miss Marinette was in the room with you and Adrien at the time of this video?”

Lila didn’t like his tone.  “Oh course she was!  She was the one who sent him after me after she got him angry enough to transform!  She used my poor Adrien’s unfortunate condition to her advantage against me!”

“So, if she was in the room with you,” Martin began slowly, “… who’s the young lady clearly seen in this still standing right behind the Agreste bodyguard?”

Rossi nearly hiccupped in surprise, whipping her eyes to the image.

There, just behind the large man’s right arm and the edge of the door, clear for all to see, was a concerned looking Dupain-Cheng.

Outside the dressing room.

“To refresh your memory, Rossi,” Adrien’s tone was low and menacing.  “You seem to have forgotten that I was there, I was witness to what happened.  You shoved and locked Marinette out of the room, and then tried to blackmail me to break up with Marinette to enter into some fake relationship with you.”

“I most certainly did not!”

“You threatened to spin some terrible story about me attacking you, that you were going to fake bruises on yourself.”

“Those are lies! Why are you lying about me?”

“When I told you I would just let Agreste Legal take you to court over it, you started to threaten to accuse Marinette of blackmail, that you wouldn’t let the story die until it completely ruined her.”

“I did not say any of those things!”

“You threatened to release a series of doctored videos to make her look bad.  That’s where I snapped.  I don’t remember much after that, but I know that’s when I started to change into Chat Blanc again.”

Martin interrupted anything further Lila might have tried to spin.  “Everyone is under the impression that re-akumatization after the akuma is purified was impossible, or that akumatization without an akuma just can’t happen.”

“This was a different kind of akuma,” the boy explained.  “Ladybug and Chat Noir explained everything to us along with the Great Guardian of the Miraculous.  Hawk Moth was experimenting with a new kind of akuma from ancient tales he had found.  Seems this sort of thing was used once before centuries ago, with pretty much the same results.  It took the Great Guardian of the Miraculous and the Heroes of Paris together to expel the last of the akuma that infected me.”

“Can you tell us how all this started?”

Adrien frowned.  “It started with the photo.  I had gone to the Louvre for the fashion shoot and when I got home, Father was furious about the image that appeared on my Instagram account and was circulating faster than his spin doctors could keep up with.  He thought the photo had been real.”

“You know as well as I do that it was real, dearest,” Lila cooed.

“It’s faker than your supposed Prada shoes,” Adrien snapped in response, making her cringe.  He returned his attention to the show’s host.  “My phone had been in my room all day while I was on set at the Louvre, so there was no way I could have taken the picture or posted it.  The login info shows the account was accessed from my room, the IP was for the Manor and from my phone, but I wasn’t there all day.  For the rest… I… I guess I was tired and Father being mad at me for something he thought I was involved in, and not believing me, left me vulnerable.”  He let his eyes drop to Marinette’s hand gripping his in comfort, his thumb lightly rubbing over her knuckles.  “It felt like a dream at first… or a nightmare, not really sure.  Took me a while to remember and piece everything together.  I remember escaping from my room to the rooftops.  I needed to run, and I didn’t care to where, I just needed to run.  I remember hearing Hawk Moth whispering to me, making promises I know he could never keep, trying to gain control.  I fought him so hard.  I remember seeing some men attacking a girl, that she seemed familiar to me, and then I’m carrying this girl away.  I didn’t clue in at the time that it was Marinette.  All I could hear in my head was protect and must keep safe.  I think that’s what kept Hawk Moth from gaining control.”

“He saved me from those men,” Marinette praised.  “He took care of me.  Ladybug and Chat Noir found us when they heard there was an akuma keeping a civilian.  Honestly, when I found out Chat Blanc was Adrien, I wanted to stay and help anyway I could.  He was a total gentleman, er, kitty the entire time he was protecting me.  Even when our friends organized a search of the city to find us, he really just wanted to scare everyone away.  The Heroes had a plan to get to Hawk Moth and save Adrien all at once.  Needless to say, it worked.  They got both Hawk Moth and Mayura’s Miraculous gems, and got Adrien to the Great Guardian to cure him once and for all.”  She gave the boy a tender smile, squeezing his hand.  “It was quite the adventure.”

“Cured, but not before destroying half of Agreste Manor,” Martin pressed.

Adrien sighed quietly.  “Father was frustrated by how long it was taking the Great Guardian to research the right spells and potions for the cure.  I was still emotionally fragile.  It caused me to change.  Everyone saw what happened after that.”

“None of that would have ever happened had Ladybug been a better superhero and purified my dearest Adrien the first time,” Lila accused.  “She was such a bad choice to be Ladybug.  When I was Volpina, I was infinitely better than her.  Everyone loved me because I actually had the power to save everyone.”

“You created a fake asteroid hurdling towards Paris with the power of illusion,” Marinette countered.

“And Ladybug called you out in the park when you tried to tell me you were her very best friend after your first day in Paris,” Adrien added.

Lila began to splutter.

“You continuously claim the supposed Volpina necklace is an ancient family heirloom you got from your Grandmother,” Marinette included.

“Yet my Father has a jewelry line with just such a pendant,” Adrien continued.  “There is CCTV footage of you buying it from a boutique your first day of school, I checked.”

Lila felt her anger rise.  This was not going how she imagined this evening would go.  “I…  Well…”

“I’ve also noted how you recorded a video on the Ladyblog claiming a close friendship with Ladybug, yet twice now you’ve made comments that lead everyone to believe you really don’t like her,” Martin included.

“We… we had a really bad fight not long ago.  She… She’s jealous that people loved me more than her when I was Volpina.”

“You were akumatized into Volpina, you never had the Miraculous of the Fox,” Adrien disputed.

She frowned at him.  “And how do you know?”

“Because the Great Guardian told us after Adrien’s healing ceremony,” Marinette refuted.  “He showed us the Fox Miraculous still sitting in the Miracle Box.  The Fox has never been activated, not for over seven hundred years now.”

Damn that annoying person, Lila thought.

She turned up her nose at everyone around the table.  “Nevertheless, Ladybug and I were best of friends from the moment we met and she shared so many of her secrets with me.”

“Putting you in danger of being used by Hawk Moth to get to her?  I highly doubt that.”

Martin leaned back in his chair.  “We just happen to have a recording of Ladybug and Chat Noir explaining a few things, courtesy of the Ladyblogger, Alya Césaire.”

The screen behind him again came to life.

Of all the times Lila had wanted to be akumatized, right now would have been perfect.

On the screen appeared both Ladybug and Chat Noir, sitting on a rooftop somewhere in the city.

Chat Noir gave a salute to the camera.  “Greetings, Paris!  Ladybug and I have heard lately of individuals making a pretty outrageous claim about us and we thought we set the record right, straight from the cat and bug’s mouths.”

“The main claim we’re hoping to debunk is that Chat and I have civilian friends who know everything about us, including out secret identities,” Ladybug added.  “That is so wrong and so dangerous a claim to make.  We are very careful to keep both our hero lives and civilian lives separate to keep our families and friends safe from Hawk Moth.  If he had learned who those people were, we have no doubt he would have used them against us.  Now that he’s gone, there are other elements who would like to have the Miraculous for far less noble purposes, but our reasons for keeping secrets remain the same.”

“Claiming to be our best friend or knowing our secrets places the biggest of bull’s eyes on their back.” Chat added.  “As superheroes, we can’t have anyone be close to us.  It’s for your safety as well as ours.  Ladybug and I are not here to be your friends, as bad as that sounds.  We are here to protect the city and the people we love.  This is a job, our job.  We live this way to keep you all safe.  Think about it this way:  You claim to be our best friend; you claim to know our secrets and our identity; Hawk Moth or some other bad guy find this out; they come after you; they either torture you for the info you say you have or to try to get us to make an appearance to save you; but we don’t know you.  What are your chances then?”

“Chat and I are working with the Ladyblog to debunk the rest of the claims that are circulating, so more videos like this one will follow.  And, as always, if you have questions, submit them to the Ladyblog’s questions page.  We’ll answer them all if we can.  We’ll talk again soon.  Bug out!”

Boudot looked over to Lila.  “Care to comment, Miss Rossi?”

Vibrating with sheer fury towards the cat and insect heroes on the screen, Lila was primed to scream.  Since coming to Paris, the damnable girl in red and her halfwit cat had ruined her life at every step.

Why did they need to be so righteous and moral?

If Ladybug just kept her mouth shut…

Had she not inferred in the park that day with Adrien…

Had she just not countered her at every single turn and allow Lila to continue her plans…

It would have been so simple for the bug to stay out of her life.

Insetto infernale!

“This…” she began, careful to steady her voice despite her nails digging into her palms.  “This is nothing more than a fake.  Did anyone bother checking this information, see if the video was altered in any way?  Or do you all just blindly accept what that insect says.”

She realized letting slip her distaste for Ladybug by calling her an insect might have been a mistake and could turn viewers against her, but she counted on sympathy for her to override that.

“For all we know,” she continued, “… this was fabricated by someone with enough resources to make it look real in order to discredit me further.  I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find out this was Gabriel himself who masterminded this statement to further make me look bad.”

Much as this is something you would do, Miss Rossi, I, on the other hand, would not stoop so low.

Appearing from the shadows like some noble vampire in a noire movie, Gabriel Agreste stepped onto the set from somewhere behind where Adrien and Marinette sat.

Lila ground her teeth hard to keep her jaw from hitting the ground.

No, no, no, no, no, no!

This was supposed to be her interview, her chance to set the record to her truth, to give herself the world when it was being snatched away from her.

It was bad enough that Adrien and Dupain-Cheng had been invited.

She could counter short videos or quick appearances from celebrities.

But now Gabriel Agreste?

What gods had she crossed to have resulted in this mess?

Martin Boudot stood and approached the stately man.  “Mesdames, mesdemoiselles, messieurs, please welcome our final guest of the evening, Monsieur Gabriel Agreste, owner and CEO of Agreste Design.  Welcome, monsieur.”

Thank you, Monsieur Boudot.  You will forgive my use of this device to speak, I am still recovering from an injury that prevents me from using my jaw.

“Of course, Monsieur, of course.  We can accommodate you for any assistive device you may need.  Please, have a seat,” and he indicated a chair next to his own furthest from where Lila sat.  “We’re thrilled you were able to make time in your busy schedule to come on our show.  I hear that our team and your incredible assistant, Miss Nathalie Sanscoeur, quite literally moved Heaven and Earth to get you here tonight.”

It was necessary to set this story straight. The bad press is detrimental for my company.

As he sat, Gabriel offered a curt nod to Marinette and Adrien. 

He never even bothered to look in Lila’s direction.

“So, to continue on the same thread as a few moments ago:  You can confirm that this isn’t something manufactured by you or someone in your employ?”

Absolutely.  I have no need to falsify material to disparage an individual who is doing a fine job of doing this herself.

Lila had to swallow her growl.

How dare he insult her!

Her nails dug a little deeper to her palms.

“You were no doubt watching backstage?” Martin asked him, to which Gabriel nodded.  “So, having heard everything so far, could you please tell your side your story?”

To clarify, Miss Rossi was not recommended to me by any of my peers in the fashion industry, none of them having heard of her before, nor did I discover her as she claims.  Miss Rossi tricked my staff to gain entry to my home to have access to my Son, and then lied to me about her true intentions for her presence in my home.

“I most certainly did not!” Lila attempted in defense.

But Gabriel spoke over her.  Her initial claim to justify her presence was to warn me that my Son’s classmates were bad influences on him, for which I did believe her from having seen a change in Adrien after he started attending school, but I soon learned this was because he was learning to be an individual and not just my Son and prime model.  At the time, Miss Rossi offered to, in her words, keep an eye on him, befriend him to keep him out of trouble, falsely claiming extensive experience in this from time spent with numerous rich and powerful families.  Her true motives soon became apparent, and her lies.

“You went on television claiming she was your new muse and the female face of your company,” Boudot posed.

I’ll admit her look was different and I was hopeful for positive audience responses to having the young lady appear with Adrien.  This is something to be said about feeding a fantasy that the public may have had, feed into their desire to watch a romantic story develop before their eyes.  I signed her to an open-ended contract to keep her constant presence at my company and at the Manor as plausible, and as a test to see if we could develop her as a proper model.

“Proper model?” Lila scoffed.  “I have always been a model!”

Martin ignored her outburst.  “We saw a copy of the contract.  There was a distinct lack of adult consent and representation to the employment, as required by European employment law.  Why is that?”

“I was pressured into signing the contract!” Lila shouted, not liking the answers Gabriel was offering.

You were hardly pressured, child, Gabriel replied through his speaking tablet.  If memory serves, you snatched the pen away from my lawyer who was explaining the terms that were drawn up since you were a minor signing a professional contract of employ.  The contract was written as a protection for both parties, her and Agreste Design, with a specific set of conditions that needed to be met.  Those conditions were not met. 

Lila frowned.  “Con-conditions?  What conditions?”

You would have known which conditions had you bothered to actually read your contract.

“Can we know what these conditions were?” Boudot questioned.

Of course.  As well as reporting to me on the unfavourable behaviours of Adrien’s schoolmates as she claimed, Miss Rossi was mandated to commit to becoming the prima model for Agreste Design.  This included following the orders of the designers on set, the photographers, and my personal assistant.  Noting her personality after our first meeting, I stipulated in her contract that she was not to insist on changing the script for the photo sessions to push her personal agenda, or claim such changes were at my request.  She failed in these two primary points. 

“I didn’t fail!” Lila wailed.  “All the changes were your requests, maybe not directly, but I knew what you would like!  I know about the modelling world and what people look for in photo sets!  And I did report on how horrible all his classmates were!”

Horrible to you, perhaps, Adrien has had nothing but praise for his classmates.  I also believe I know my preferences in fashion and design more than a fourteen-year-old girl who lacks my experience and has shown a distinct lack of talent.  Agreste Design has noted a significant loss in revenue after just the first spread she appeared in.

“Wha… what?”

It was decided to pull her from any further photo sessions at that point.  It was clear the public did not like her look nor the image that was created of her at Adrien’s side.  She was far too raw and inexperienced.  I believe some of the comments were she appeared too clingy of my Son.  Adrien also expressed a marked discomfort working with the girl.  He expressed to my Assistant that Miss Rossi had a tendency to be far too… what was the word used?... handsy, with him during pairs sets.  Her contract, such as it was signed, allows me to cancel it as I see fit in all legality.  She was terminated shortly after Adrien was akumatized at which point I realized that she was the cause.  There was a detrimental influence in his life, and that was her, not his classmates.

“That’s not true!  You called me your muse!  You told me I was no longer modelling because you didn’t want me to burn out too soon!  You didn’t want me to be courted by other design houses!”

Hardly, I was never contacted by my peers expressing any desire to sign you to their label.  I did receive a call from Vivienne Westwood asking if I had lost my mind for signing you.  And muses come and go.  Fashion is a rather fickle industry.

Martin decided to take the questions in a different direction, seeing the angry red overtaking the Rossi girl’s complexion. 

“We were introduced to Miss Marinette as your Son’s romantic interest from Instagram posts by both him and Miss Chloé Bourgeois at the time of the Winter Gala.  Before this, the world was under the impression that Adrien was going to be a consummate bachelor due to always appearing solo, apart from the unfortunate fashion spread you mentioned.  We have to ask:  What your reaction was to all this?”

Gabriel actually smiled with a low chuckle.  I was first introduced to Miss Marinette during the Derby hat contest I hosted.  She was a very impressive young lady, from being able to defend herself against someone claiming her design as their own, to for her unique design style, and being able to execute an ambitious design in such a short amount of time.  When Adrien began to speak of her in different terms than his other friends, referring to her in more a more emotional fashion, I recognized how I had been with his Mother in our early years.

“It’s a fake relationship,” Lila muttered just loud enough for the camera to hear her.  “Adrien is my boyfriend, not hers.”

As all people who enter our circles, I had Miss Marinette investigated.  I do this with everyone, potential employees and acquaintances alike, to identify what could become issues with those individuals.  You must understand, with the wealth and renown our family holds, people are constantly looking to befriend us or ingratiate themselves in order to benefit from our status.  Her record, both socially and scholastically, is impeccable.

Lila scoffed.  “I told you repeatedly, she bullies me at school.  She has since I started at Françoise Dupont.”

Martin looked to his notes.  “Yes, we’ve looked into these claims, as I’m sure Monsieur Agreste has as well.”  To which Gabriel nodded in agreement.  “There is nothing on Miss Marinette’s school record stating she has any of the behavioural problems you accuse her of.  You accused her of bullying and also assaulting you on numerous occasions.  Yet we find nothing on her record and none of her classmates can back up your claim.”

“Of course, there wouldn’t be anything!  She was always so careful to make sure no one saw her attacking me.  She threw me down the stairs one day.”

“And you never reported these things to the school?  Never went to the school nurse or hospital to document your injuries?”

She blinked.  “I… I had a very busy schedule keeping me from doing so.”

Boudot hummed softly.  “I don’t know about you, but if someone was physically and verbally attacking me, I would’ve made sure to tell the teachers, the Principal, or my parents, regardless of how little time I had.  I would have made time to ensure a record of events.”

“No one would have believed me!” she cried.

With a skeptic eyebrow raised at the camera, “And why is that?” Boudot questioned.

“B-be-because she made sure to tell everyone that I lie!” and she pointed an accusing finger at Marinette.  “Since the first day at arrived at our school, she told everyone that I don’t know the people I say I do, I’ve never done the things I said.  She’s jealous of me.”

And why would she be jealous? Gabriel questioned through his device.

She could have been mistaken, but the tone sounds positively condescending.

“Be-Because I’m famous!  I’m a fashion model!  I know hundreds of famous people and royalty!  And Adrien loves me!” she smiled triumphantly at that last point.

“I most certainly do not,” Adrien countered, a look of disgust on his face.

“Yes, you do!  I know you do because you told me so many times in the past!  There so much photographic evidence to that fact.  All the walks we’ve gone on together through the city, the dinners, the dates.  They’re blackmailing you into acting this way, to try to keep us apart.”

“What are you even talking about?” Marinette demanded.

“I know for a fact that you’ve never been able to talk to Adrien since the start of the school year!  Alya told me you get flustered and can’t string more that two words together around him!”

Marinette shrugged.  “I don’t deny that, it was common knowledge in our class.”

“Four days after he was de-akumatized, when he returned to school, I saw you both talking in one of the library quiet rooms, all cuddled together!  You’ve never showed any signs of being together before that!  In fact I would see you run away from him or hide from him before that!  Yet there you were, thick as thieves!  What did you tell him?  What did you threaten him with to force him into a relationship with you?”

Marinette and Adrien looked at each other in utter confusion before blinking at the furious girl across from them.

“She filled in the blanks from my time as Chat Blanc,” Adrien began.  “I have bits and pieces, but there are times were things got muddled.  She confirmed what was real and what was something Hawk Moth was trying to force in me.  And we finally had a long overdue talk, just the two of us.”  Adrien pulled Marinette’s hand towards himself, favouring her with a tender smile.  “Away from anyone else trying to pry or be helpful, she wasn’t so nervous and got the chance to finally confess how she felt about me, this since the first day of the school year.  It made me realize that everything I did as Chat Blanc, keeping her close, wanting to make sure she was safe and protected at all times, it was because I felt the same about her.”  He fixed Lila with a frown.  “Marinette isn’t like you, Lila, she doesn’t need to lie about who she knows because she doesn’t feel the need to be the centre of attention every second of the day, and she would never threaten anyone.  Not like you did in the bathroom when you came back from your extended leave, supposedly because you were in Achu.”

“Which we earlier confirmed no one in Achu knows who you are,” Martin added almost casually.

The Italian girl could only stare at Adrien, eyes wide in trepidation.  “How-How did you find out about that?”

“Marinette finally admitted it to me, after I told her about our deal.” 

The way he voiced the last part was borderline menacing.

Heart racing in her chest, Lila felt actual fear.

He wouldn’t reveal the details of that agreement, live on television.

He couldn’t!

Lila’s eyes darted between Boudot, and Gabriel.

Martin Boudot looked positively intrigued and any hope Lila had of this topic being dropped were dashed. 

The look of curiosity on Gabriel’s face also guaranteed the deal would soon come to light and very publicly.

A trickle of cold sweat traced down her back.

No, no, no, no, no, no!

She prayed hard at that moment, imploring Hawk Moth to somehow find the power to akumatize her, a tiny part of her mind reminding her that Ladybug and Chat Noir had both reported he no longer had his Miraculous.

“And what deal would that be?

There was a tiny sardonic grin on Boudot’s face.

No, no, no, no, no, no!

Yes, I am most curious about any agreement you made with Miss Rossi, Gabriel questioned his Son.

No, no, no, no, no, no!

The boy looked almost too satisfied with himself.

“She had lied to get Marinette expelled from school,” Adrien began, ignoring the pleading look Lila was shooting him.  “I knew there was no way Marinette ever got the time to do what she claimed, not that Marinette would ever do such a thing.  Lila planted her necklace in Marinette’s locker, claiming that Marinette stole it.  I knew she lied, she’s lied since her first day of school.  I told her that I would continue to be her friend if she crafted another lie to exonerate Marinette and get her reinstated.  She agreed, although she didn’t stop making up accusations against Marinette or continuing her lies about her life.”

Owlish blue eyes glowed in absolute adoration at the boy.  “You did that… for me?”

“Of course.”  His tone was matter of fact.

A tiny sound escaped Marinette’s throat and she threw herself at her boyfriend, holding him ever so tight.  Adrien willingly and easily reciprocated, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.

“Adrien protect Mari,” he breathed, barely picked up by the boom microphones.

She pulled back enough to tenderly cup his face in her hands.  “My perfect kitty,” and she bumped her nose to his.

“Ugh!” Lila groused, louder than was necessary.  “Can you two just stop with the pretend gushing already?  It’s so fake, it’s nauseating.  Anyone with half a brain can see that it’s all a show you’re putting on for the cameras.  I know you blackmailed Gabriel into setting all this up.  The second video I made shows you beating him up after my dear Adrien changed into Chat Blanc for the last time.”

“Yes, lets take a look at this last video you just so happened to be present to record,” Martin agreed.

The screen behind him came to life with a soundless stream of moving pictures.

Lila wanted to crow.

This was it, the video that would show the world what a horrible person Dupain-Cheng was for viciously attaching Gabriel Agreste and forcing him to give up something he was holding onto rather preciously.

At least, this was how Lila was going to spin it to everyone watching.

Assault and theft.

Mentally she ran through possible stories she could claim to completely ruin the Chinese girl, each one getting better than the previous.

The video started up, showing a slightly shaky view of the smouldering remains of Agreste Manor.  A good half the building was gone, reduced to rubble.

“Wow, I did that?” she barely heard Adrien gasp ever so softly.

The camera panned away to the police and firemen racing between the building and their vehicles, shouting at each other, barely heard under the sheer din of the wailing sirens coming from seemingly all angles and directions.

Turning a corner, the camera spied Dupain-Cheng, Gabriel Agreste, and Nathalie Sanscoeur standing together.  The camera’s operator ducked behind a truck before peering out again, steadying the image by seemingly leaning against the truck’s side.

Nathalie was emotionless as ever.

Gabriel was looking decidedly less stoic, lost almost.

Dupain-Cheng was practically vibrating as she yelled at him, he body leaned towards him in her fury.

And then the petite girl’s fist flew to connect with Gabriel’s jaw.

“Pause for a moment!” Martin called, and the image froze in mid-contact.

Everyone turned from the video to look at Marinette who curled into herself slightly in embarrassment.

“That is one mean right hook you have there, young lady,” Martin marvelled, barely supressing a chuckle.

Gabriel lightly rubbed his jaw.  Yes, I can certainly attest to that.

The interviewer blinked in surprise at him.  “Wait, this injury you have… is from her?”

 The older designer merely nodded.

“My Princess!” Adrien gushed as he gathered his girlfriend in his arms again and crushed her tight, a bright smile on his face at knowing that her anger in that video was her being protective of him.

“You see I was right though,” Lila decided to interject.  “She’s not some delicate little wall flower everyone makes her out to be.  She attacked Monsieur Agreste.  And if you keep playing the video, you’ll see she demanded something from him while he’s still on the ground.  She stole from him.”

She actually did not, the computer speaking for Gabriel denied.  It was I who stole something from her and Adrien, she was merely demanding their return.

“Resume the video,” Martin commanded to whoever it was off camera controlling the feed behind him.

Lila noticed Gabriel typing something more on his tablet, and then Adrien’s phone buzzed quietly.  The teen pulled out the device to read the received message, turning his phone to show Marinette.  They shared a look, and then turned to Gabriel, offering a curt nod.

Something had happened there, something for Lila to figure out.

The Marinette on the video completed her swing as the film resumed, the recorded Gabriel ending up on a sprawl on the ground.  Marinette held out a hand, obviously demanding something the din of the chaos around them prevented anyone in the studio from hearing.  Gabriel reached into his jacket, and then flinched when Marinette yelled something.  The multiple items weren’t visible as he deposited them in the girl’s hand.

Marinette said something more, clutching the items preciously and glaring daggers at the cowering man, and then took off.

“We know from news reports at the time that Miss Marinette went to find Chat Blanc after this altercation,” Martin narrated.  “Would it be indelicate to ask what it is she was demanding from you, Monsieur Agreste.”

This one looked to the teens for a brief moment.  I am the kind of person used to controlling everything and everyone around me, to ensure optics are pristine.  Hoping to exert some control over their actions, I took something of great emotional value from them.  I can never fully apologize for that mistake.

Martin looked to the teens.

The two exchanged a quick look, a silent conversation happening in that instance.  Wordlessly, they each pulled out to reveal very different looking charms to all those gathered and the cameras.

“Charms?” Lila scoffed.  “That’s it?”

Marinette clutched her yellow and blue coloured charm close.  “They’re special charms!” she contested in indignation.  “At least, to us.  Adrien made me this one for my birthday.”

“It took me a long time to make it, picking just the right charms just for Marinette.”

“That he thought about making me something over buying something, and putting in the effort to make it, it makes this charm means so much more to me than anyone’s impression of it.”

“And Marinette gave me this charm when we were originally paired together for the Ultimate Mecha Strike competitions.  Call me crazy, but things went infinitely better in everything for me when I had this with me.  This was a family charm of hers, and she thought to give it to me.  No one’s ever given me anything without wanting something in return.”

I didn’t know what to do about this relationship between them, at first.  I will admit to not being well versed on parenthood.  But I wholeheartedly approve of Adrien’s relationship with Miss Marinette.  She is an honourable and admirable young lady.  As for Miss Rossi’s claims of being Adrien’s girlfriend, I will confirm, here and now, that there was never anything between them at any time during her employ with Agreste Design.

“No!” Lila shouted, jumping to her feet in rage.  “You’re lying!  You’re all lying.  Adrien adores me, he told me so himself!  Just because no one was around to see or hear it doesn’t mean it didn’t really happen exactly like I said!  Oh, why doesn’t anyone ever believe me!  Adrien, tell them all this just isn’t true!” she pleaded, eyes wild, forced tears brimming her lashes.  “Tell the truth, that they’re forcing you to do this for the company image!  That this is all some ploy your Father cooked up for ratings and to control you!  Dupain-Cheng doesn’t love you, she’s just using the Agreste name to prop herself up while letting your Father know where you are, what you’re doing to better control you!  The only reason she’s agreeing to go along with this is Gabriel promised her fame and fortune!”

Adrien merely looked at her with a mixture of pity and anger.

Fine, since he wasn’t going to crack easily, she would pick what she believed was a weaker target.

She rounded on Marinette next.  “Admit it!  Admit to the world that you’re doing all this for the fame and money!  You’re just playing the part Gabriel set out for you so he can control his Son!  You’re using him!  There is no way anyone just suddenly falls head over heels for someone so fast!  The Universe doesn’t work like that, doesn’t do any of this soulmates or karma crap!”

Marinette gave her a pitying look, shaking her head in obvious disbelief at what Lila was claiming.

No, that wouldn’t do at all.

Adrien’s pity she could take, it meant he felt something for her.

But Dupain-Cheng was certainly not permitted to pity her.

Her, Lila Rossi, rising star of Italy and Paris.

The Italian girl growled in frustration, no longer caring if she was on live television or not.

They had no right to counter her claims.

The had no right to belittle her as they did.

They had no right to question her word.

She was going to be a star.

The world was supposed to be at her feet, worshipping her.

She never had so much trouble convincing and holding sway over people before.

Not until she came to Paris.

Not until…

“Ladybug!” she snarled.

The others at the table blinked with some trepidation at her evil sounding tone.  The stage crew actually paused to stare in some measure of shock.

One could only imagine the reactions of the audience watching.

“This is all her fault!” she continued, unphased by their reactions.  “Everything was going perfectly until she got involved!  She always ruins everything!”

A thought occurred to her, eyes going wide in the realization, and she turned on the show’s host.

“Ladybug set you up to this, didn’t she?  She contacted all those people and got them to lie for her to make me out to be the bad guy, didn’t she?  You’re all in on her plan to destroy me!”

“Young lady, that’s quite an accusation,” Martin attempted to deflect.

“I’m right thought, aren’t I?  Of course I am since you’re not denying it!  That damnable bug has had it in for me ever since I came to this city!”

“She hardly even knowns you,” Adrien defended.

“This is all still her fault!  If it hadn’t been for her, you would be my boyfriend now and I would still be a model with Agreste Design!  I would have the world!  And little miss perfect Dupain-Cheng would be a nobody trying to be my friend instead of my enemy!”

Boudot seemed to perk up at that.  “Oh, so you admit that you consider Miss Marinette your enemy?”

“She is!  She’s countered everything I’ve ever done!  If it wasn’t for her and Ladybug, I would practically rule this city!”

He hummed with a thoughtful rub of his chin.  “Rule the city.  Interesting choice of words.”

And Lila froze.

What did she say?

Her fury had gotten to the point where everything just tumbled out, unchecked, without thought.

Oh…

No, no, no, no, no, no!

From the looks everyone at the table was giving her, it was clear she had said something she shouldn’t have.

And everyone watching the show had heard her say it.

None of this had gone like she had planned.

It was supposed to be Cataldi or Chamack leading this interview, both so inept in her opinion that leading them through questions would have been the easiest thing in the world.

She knew for a fact neither would have done enough in-depth research to be able to counter any of Lila’s claims.

But for some unknown reason the station had called in this expert and diligent reporting journalist.

He dug into her past.

He investigated her claims.

He didn’t believe her in the slightest.

And worst of all, he brought people onto the show to make her lose her cool.

He made it so more people didn’t believe her.

Lila had to find a way to salvage this somehow.

There was always her standard go-to:  Ugly cry pathetically while hiccupping about the world being against her, how she was just playing the game everyone else was playing.

Victimhood had always worked for her in the past.

People hated to see young girls cry.

It made them uncomfortable and they almost always ended up forgetting what happened before the crying began.

With the practiced ease of a seasoned actor, heavy tears began to well up in her eyes.

Her bottom lip began a pitiful quiver.

She clutched her hands near her chin, enough not to hide the trembling lip, but just enough to make her seem weak.

Turning her body away just slightly and curling in on herself, Lila forced a wretched whimper from her throat.

“You tricked me!” she accused, her voice thick with the sob she forced into it.  “You made me say all of that!  You made me so upset I couldn’t think straight anymore!”

Martin didn’t take her bait, looking very unimpressed with her attempt.  “In my experience, it’s when one loses control of their emotions that the truth comes out.”

“No, this was all a trick to make me say things!” she protested, the tears she forced spilling from her eyes.  “You made me frustrated!”

“Frustrated?” he repeated.

“This is nothing like any of the other interviews I ever did!”

“To which there is no evidence or record that you ever did any interview, save for the very self-serving video on the Ladyblog.”

“This was supposed to be my interview!  But you went and brought in all these people, my accusers!  You gave them a chance to make up more lies to make me look bad!”

“Wouldn’t be much of an investigative interview if I didn’t investigate every claim you made.  I also had to investigate the counter claims that were made against you.”

“But you didn’t!  You grilled me, but you never once asked them the hard questions!  Ask them why they hate me!  Ask them why the always attack me!  Ask Adrien why he was forced to break up with me!  Go ahead!  Then it’ll be a fair interview!”

Martin huffed softly.  “A fair interview… right.” 

He looked to the elder Agreste.  “She stated that you now hate her.  How would you qualify your personal and professional relationship with the girl you once claimed was your muse?”

Gabriel’s shoulders straightened slightly.  She was a means to an end to watch over my Son and ensure his safety and protection, something she has repeatedly caused to fail in dramatic fashion by her simply inane ability to be or have someone be akumatized.

Lila gasped dramatically.

Do I hate Miss Rossi?  That is much too harsh a term in this matter.  I dislike her methods.  Her personal style is childish and outdated, her attempts at deviousness and duplicity are comedic at best. 

He paused for a brief moment before typing again. 

I am annoyed by her presence.  She continuously places herself in situations to become the victim in order to be pitied and catered to.  I do not tolerate this kind of behaviour as it cheapens the time and effort of myself and others in our daily lives.  But by no means do I hate this child.  She tried to play a game with individuals who have been playing for far longer than her, and lost.

Martin turned to Adrien, an apology in his eyes.  Lila had opened the door to make people doubt the veracity of the interview, there had to be some sort of closure to that.

“Miss Rossi has made repeated claims tonight that you were exclusive until some unknown event, possibly your akumatization or your Father’s control, caused a break-up,” Martin began.  “You’ve made repeated mentions of your dislike of her, which pointedly contradicts her claims of being romantically involved, and we’ve been presented with numerous video and photographic evidence that we’ve proven to have been doctored.  We’ve heard her side to this.  Care to clear things up?”

Adrien heaved a tired sigh, leaning back in his chair.  “There was never anything between myself and Rossi.”

“Lies!” the Italian hissed.

She shrunk in her seat when four sets of eyes glared at her to be quiet.

“As I was saying…  When she started at our school and she saw me, Rossi literally grabbed my arm and dragged me into the library, despite my not wanted to.  That wasn’t so different than the countless fans and stalkers who managed to get close used to do, try to isolate me to get their five minutes.  She kept lying to me about this or that, all the while getting too close to me, too much into my personal space.”

Lila pouted pitifully.  “You could have told me I was making you uncomfortable!”

“You never shut up long enough to give me a chance.  And I did tell you, repeatedly, every time you were on set or when we were in school or when you found a way to insert yourself into outings with my friends.”  He returned his attention to Boudot.  “If it wasn’t for Ladybug I don’t think I would have ever been able to get away that first day.  Since then Rossi has claimed to everyone that we were dating, but that couldn’t be the furthest thing from the truth.  I don’t even like her.  I never wanted anything to do with her.”

Again, Rossie gasped dramatically.

“I’m surrounded every day in the modelling industry by people who claim to be something they’re not, by people who always try to build themselves up through lies or on someone else’s fame.  Either it’s to try to impress me or find a way through me to get to my Father.  I’ve seen it all.  I can recognize someone faking something or everything about their life without even trying and I don’t like it.”

“You were ordered to say all that!” Lila shouted, as if it could possibly change the narrative.  “Admit it, you’re lying because they’re forcing you!”

“No one is forcing me to do anything,” he countered, sounding very tired.

“You told me that you loved me!” she wailed.

“Not even once, intentionally or by mistake.”

Martin shot Rossi a glare before returning his attention to Adrien.  “And your relationship with Miss Marinette?”

The boy looked to his girlfriend tenderly, the smile coming easily to his lips as he held her hand in both of his.

“This is real.  Marinette has never tried to make claims about herself, never told lies that could eventually hurt someone.  She often told me and her friends that it just feels wrong to use someone else or their fame just to get ahead.  She understood me without question.  She often stood up for me, fought for me when I couldn’t do it myself.  She never forced me to be around her, to do things with her, she always asked and never pressed if I couldn’t.  It’s not in her nature.  Who she presented to me, who I got to know, was just Marinette.  Not who she knew, what she knew or could do.  Just her.”

“Everyone always said you never called her more than a friend!” Lila protested.

“At first,” he admitted.  “But I always thought she was cute.  All those things she did or babbled because of what I know now were her nerves… it made me laugh at how adorable she was.  I haven’t really laughed since my Mother was still with us.  And what better love is there than the one that first started off as a friendship.”

With a fond smile, Marinette tugged one of his hands to her face to lightly kiss his knuckles before tucking it beneath her chin.

“You were once linked to Tsurugi Kagami for a while,” Martin continued.

“Something her Mother and my Father were hoping would become something serious.  It didn’t.  Kagami and I realized we just weren’t compatible.  She’s strong willed, very determined, confident about her path in life.  I wasn’t there.  We decided it was best to not try to force something we both knew wouldn’t happen, even if it hurt realizing it.  We stayed friends though.”

“And you let him stay friends with his ex?” Lila demanded of Marinette.

This was shrugged in noncommittal.  “Sure, why not?  Adrien can do what he wants, I’m not his minder.  And Kagami is my friend too.”

Lila wanted to growl.  Why had she never heard about that?

“Well…. Well, what about Luka?”

Martin blinked.  “Who is Luka?”

Lila almost sneered, feeling a little self-satisfaction that she was bringing up something no one had anticipated.  “She used to date him!  I hear it was a very torrid affair they had together.”

Marinette snorted.  “If you think going to the movies twice and not being able to hang out as often as we would have liked is torrid.”  She looked to the host.  “He’s the Brother to one of our classmates: Luka Couffaine.”

Martin peered at his notes.  “Yes, the lead guitarist for the band, Kitty Section.”

“That’s him.  Like Adrien and Kagami, Luka and I weren’t always on the same page about things.  We have different goals in life and ways to reach those goals.  So we made the decision to break up, but we stayed friends.”

“And before you ask,” Adrien began.  “Luka is also my friend.  I sometimes play keyboard with Kitty Section when my schedule lets me.”

Boudot began to smirk as he looked to Lila.  “Not much of the scandal you were hoping for.”

“The only scandal here is how you all are treating me!” she near shrieked.  “I’ve presented you with so much proof that she bullies me, that everything is her fault, but you continuously dismiss it all with weak claims!”

Boudot leaned towards her against the table.  “I will propose that it’s your claims that are weak in an attempt to build yourself into a victim in a situation of your own making.”

She gasped.  “How dare you!”

“You presented a lot of verbal evidence and hearsay in support of your claims, but it was rather simple to debunk your photographic and video evidence with even the most basic of Open Source software available online.  Any records that could have supported anything you said here tonight does not exist.”

“N-no…”

A series of images began to stream behind the host.

“Every last photo you presented as your proof of who you supposed know came back as having been manipulated, heads and faces cropped in or out to suit your narrative.  The subjects in that media have all confirmed they have no idea who you are and you wee never present when those pictures were taken.”

“I…  T-they…”

Stills from Lila’s two videos appeared on the screen, artistically stacked on the screen for dramatic effect.

“Both of these videos have been disproven of your claims by the very subjects that were in them.  You attempted to spin them in your favour, but in one video it was clear to see that your claim was just impossible, and the second video is too inconclusive to support your claim about it.”

“N-not…”

The images shifted to another set.  One had Adrien and Marinette in them, and the other were the same poses, but with Lila’s image instead replacing Marinette.

“All of the original photos were found on paparazzi sites or Adrien’s own Instagram account, while those that purportedly show you instead of Miss Marinette only appear on your own very low traffic site.”

“I-I…”

And a final set of images appeared of Lila in front of numerous famous or World Heritage sites around the world, still shots she recognized from videos she had recorded and posted on her Instagram site.

“And then we have these images.  Every last one is a stock image pulled from the internet, something even our most novice of tech interns was able to find and prove.  There are never any crowds of tourists in these images, and the lighting always appears to be the same, with you claiming it is either dusk or dawn, but from the angles that would be impossible in certain sites since the Sun would be immediately behind you and blinding the camera.”

“A-all of… n-no…”

“Now, while I admit that some teens your age will lie or embellish the truth, mostly to impress potential friends or increase their own popularity, but to the level at which you have taken all this, Miss Rossi, it denotes a very desperate extreme.”

The screen faded to black and Boudot turned to a specific page in his notes.

“We’ve consulted with Professor and Doctor of Medicine Michele Genoni of the Rehaklinik Seewis Cardiac and Psychosomatic Rehabilitation centre in Switzerland about your actions and he was most concerned.  From reading your file, he said you show all the traits of someone with mythomania and pseudologia fantastica, otherwise known as a pathological liar, as well as saying you were a textbook case of someone with narcissistic personality disorder.  For those at home who may not know what this is:  A narcissistic personality disorder is a mental health condition in which people have an unreasonably high sense of their own importance. They need and seek too much attention and want people to admire them. People with this disorder may lack the ability to understand or care about the feelings of others.  Those are serious claims from one of Europe’s top psychiatric experts, and frankly, quite worrisome in a teen.  How would you respond to such a claim?”

Lila glared at him.

He was grinning every so slightly, just enough that the cameras wouldn’t easily see it.

How dare he!

How dare they!

They had colluded together before this evening to come up with ways to destroy her.

They had conspired together to set all this up.

Rossi squared her shoulders, an air of hautain disdain for Boudot and his line of questioning.

“I wouldn’t respond to anyone saying such things about me,” she responded, her tone confident and almost arrogant.  “Anyone claiming such things is merely jealous of what I have, who I know, what I’ve done at my age.”

Martin nodded slowly.  “Exactly what Doctor Genoni said a narcissistic pathological liar would say when confronted.”

Lila blinked.

Had she just walked into a trap?

Boudot leaned back in his chair and faced the cameras.  “Mesdames, mesdemoiselles, messieurs, we set out tonight to clarify an event that was threatening to bring down not only a company, but personal lives as well.  On the one hand, we have:  Gabriel Agreste; his Son, Adrien Agreste; and, his Son’s girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  All defending themselves against some pretty wild accusations of blackmail.  And on the other hand we have: Lila Rossi.  She claimed to be the victim of a smear campaign after she lost favour with Agreste Design and Monsieur Agreste.  She presented a tale of love denied, intrigue, coercion, and shady financial dealings, none of which we have been able to prove as true.  There are no financial records, there are no witnesses, there is no evidence except what Miss Rossi has said and provided.  We have presented the case from all sides.  As always, we leave the final conclusions to the public to make, we are not a court of law afterall.  But one has to wonder about the veracity of Miss Rossi’s claims when the evidence presented points to pure fantasy and fabrication.  It is my experience that the truth always reveals itself no matter how deep the lie, it is that shining light in the darkness that cannot be extinguished.  I have no doubt more will come from this story as the previously mentioned litigations make their way through our judicial system.”

He turned to the side of the table where Gabriel, Adrien and Marinette sat.

“Messieurs, Mademoiselle, thank you for making the time to be here this evening.”

He turned to Lila, a barely-there scowl on his face.

“Miss Rossi,” he merely stated in acknowledgement.

Boudot once again faced the cameras.

“This has been a TVi special investigation.  Mesdames, mesdemoiselles, messieurs, thank you and good night.”

And with that, the studio lights dimmed.

Rossi was livid and, with the cameras now off, she was free to show it in all its dark unsightliness.  She pushed off her chair with such force fuelled by her anger that it went flying backwards, bouncing off the set’s stage.  Hands slapped down on the table surface with a resounding smack, ensuring all attention was on her.

“I will sue this studio for libel and slander for what you did to me!” the girl shrieked in abject fury.

Very calmly, Martin Boudot tutted at her, much like a parent patiently correctly a child for their misbehaviours.

“You forgot the contract the studio made you sign in order to have this show go forward.  You agreed that the studio and it’s staff were exonerated from any legal liability of anything presented tonight if TVi decided to proceed with this show.”  He looked at her critically.  “You really don’t first read whatever you end up signing, do you?”

She is of the generation that merely scrolls to the bottom of a website’s Terms and Conditions in order to proceed to gratification, whatever that may be, the computerized voice intoned for Gabriel.

One could almost hear the mocking condescension in the artificial voice.

Lila growled at them before turning her narrowed eyes on Adrien and Marinette.  Both were quiet, merely watching her with wary, unimpressed expressions.

“Don’t think for one second that this is over,” she hissed.  “I will find out what’s going on between you two.  You think you’ve won?  Not by a long shot.  I’ll find out the truth and then you’ll really be sorry ever making me an enemy.”

In a flurry of brown hair, Lila spun on herself and stalked off the studio set, knocking over equipment or personnel that had the misfortune of being too close.

Martin could only blink after the girl for a moment, barely hearing Gabriel sigh heavily at the theatrics.  He gave an incredulous look to the designer.

“You hired her.”

It was less of a question and more of a statement.