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“Marinette, aren’t you forgetting something?” her mother’s amused tone halted her in her tracks, just as she had been poised to take off down the stairs. She was running late. Again.
Breaking news, call Nadja Chamack.
Spinning on the spot, and saving herself from overbalancing by a miracle and pinwheeling arms, Marinette smiled sheepishly at her mother who held out the container of dumplings.
“Have fun with your classmates, dear!”
Marinette kissed her mother’s cheek as she took the container, which was warm through the plastic, and did her best to not jostle it too much on the way down the stairs, then turned to cut through the bakery.
“Marinette, is that you? Hold on for a moment,” her father’s voice called. She tried not to sigh impatiently, tapping her foot. Then her father appeared from the kitchen with an enormous bakery box.
“I know the theme of your picnic is international cultural holiday food, and I know you said you wanted to honor your mother’s heritage and that’s why you chose to bring dumplings, and I know your mother is an amazing cook, but… you’re half French, too. Here,” he said, balancing the box on top of the container. “What’s a French holiday without croquembouche, after all?”
All her irritation vanished. “Thank you, Papa! My classmates will love these! And don’t worry, I’m proud of both sides of my heritage.”
“Good girl. Here, let me get the door for you. It’s a good thing the park is just across the street! You’re running late!”
Navigating the door was the most treacherous part of her journey, so she genuinely appreciated her father holding it open. Then she dashed across the street, thankfully without tripping and dropping everything, and headed into the park. She could see her classmates gathered around a couple of trestle tables placed end to end to form one long one, covered with a ground-length white tablecloth and already loaded with food. Mlle. Bustier greeted her with a smile, waving to her to find space for her contribution.
Marinette paused by the table, unsure how to unload without dropping everything.
“Hey, Marinette! Can I help you with that?” Adrien suddenly appeared at her elbow, and it was all she could do to stop herself from flailing in fright and sending the food everywhere.
“Heydrien! ... I mean, erm, hey, Adrien! And yes please. Maman and Papa went overboard. I think they thought it was a competition,” she added shyly. He smiled softly at her, his leaf-green eyes matching the trees behind him, and she had to stop herself from swooning at the sight.
“I’m sure you’d beat us all if it were, with all these goodies,” he said sincerely, taking the bakery box and setting the croquembouche in pride of place.
“I-I didn’t mean against a-all of you,” she stuttered. “My parents try to outdo each other.”
He laughed then, and she couldn’t stop the responding grin taking over her face, even as she blushed, her usual response to Adrien doing… well, anything. They were having an actual conversation! She had made him laugh! She couldn’t wait to tell Alya.
Realizing suddenly that she had been standing there staring at him, she blinked and shook her head, busying herself with finding space for the dumplings and making sure they were well presented. Nathaniel arrived then carefully baring a plate stacked high with… some kind of pancakes?
“What did you bring, Nathaniel?” she asked.
“Latkes. Jewish potato pancakes, basically," he said, clearly excited. "We usually only have them at Chanukah, but my mother said we could make them for today because they’re my favorites.
“I can’t wait to try them!” she replied earnestly.
“I made them with sour cream, see? Most people like them with applesauce, but sour cream was my Dad’s favorite, so eating them always remind me of him,” he said with a sad smile.
“How long has it been now?” Marinette asked quietly. The whole class knew about his father, about the tumor that took him.
“Four years,” he replied quietly.
“Thank you for sharing a piece of your memories of him with us,” she said, and he smiled at her.
“It’s not the best bakery in Paris, but you’ll love them!” he assured her, the air of sadness that had momentarily clouded his eyes dissipating as he grinned at her.
Marinette smiled at him warmly. She appreciated Nathaniel’s quiet friendship, and knew it took a lot for him to open up about something he valued. “I’m looking forward to trying them,” she said again. He grinned back, then glanced over her shoulder at something behind her, flushed, and scuttled away.
Marinette looked back behind her, but all she could see was Adrien, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
“That was weird,” he said, sounding nervous for some reason, then he glanced around. “Look, Alya and Nino are under that tree! We should go join them!”
Not trusting her voice, and knowing she was blushing, Marinette nodded, and allowed him to lead her to the others.
Adrien felt like a cad. The lowest of the low. A terrible friend. It wasn’t his place to glare at Nathaniel just because he was on the receiving end of one of Marinette’s brightest smiles. What business of his was it if Marinette wanted to smile warmly at Nathaniel? They were talking about the food they had brought, it wasn’t like he had been romancing her under the stars! And even if he had been it had nothing to do with Adrien!
He would have to apologize to Nathaniel later for unleashing his Agreste Family™ glare, the look he had practiced in the mirror when he and Plagg were making fun of his father. For some reason, the warmth in that friendly exchange had bothered Adrien. He knew that Nathaniel had once had a crush on Marinette, but didn’t he now have some kind of thing going with Marc? While Adrien didn’t know the details, he knew the class as a whole were actively shipping them. Besides, hadn’t most of the class had a crush on Marinette at some point?
That thought also bothered him. He still remembered the churning in his gut when Nino had confessed to liking her, and how supporting his best friend had just felt a little… off. Nothing he could put a finger on, so he had tried twice as hard to be supportive, but something about it just hadn’t been right. Nino and Alya, now. They made sense. And Adrien was so happy his best friend now had a solid relationship with someone who complemented him so well.
Besides, it didn’t matter who felt what for Marinette, really. She was the only person who should have a say over who she was interested in.
Luka’s face popped into Adrien’s mind. Older, and an amazing musician, and so gentle and understanding. Of course that’s where Marinette’s interests lay. Luka clearly liked her, too, and who could blame him? She was so amazing and kind and humble and had such a big heart and was so brave in spite of her shyness and such a powerhouse and so pretty and her hair was so--
He stumbled a little as he walked, correcting himself with a grace that had been drummed into him since his childhood deportment lessons, and snuck a glance at his companion as they crossed to the shade of a tree where Nino and Alya were sitting.
Marinette was his friend. His very good, very special friend. The first friend he had really made on his own, in spite of their unfortunate beginning. She had always held a corner of his heart that even Nino or Ladybug couldn’t touch. In his civilian life, there was no one he trusted more, and he looked to her for kindness and wisdom.
Did he… like her?
“Hey Marinette! Hi Adrien! ...you okay?” Alya’s greeting cut through his swirling thoughts, and with effort he pulled his eyes away from the beauty of the subject of his thoughts to acknowledge her best friend.
“H-Hey, Alya. Nino,” Adrien stammered, responding to Nino’s outstretched hand for a fist bump on automatic pilot. “...And yeah, I’m fine,” he added belatedly.
Alya scrutinized Adrien for a long moment from behind her spectacles. It was her ‘reporter look’, where she was assessing whether he was telling the truth or not, or if she needed to push for more information, and although he quailed inside, he slipped on his model smile and met her eyes bravely. After a long pause it seemed enough to appease her, and she pulled Marinette down to sit next to her, breaking into conversation in a hushed tone. Nino started talking to him then about a new mix he was working on, and Adrien forced himself to listen and contribute like his whole world hadn’t been shaken up in the walk from the table to the tree.
It didn’t stop him from sneaking glances at Marinette every few minutes, though.
Ladybug, he reminded himself. He loved Ladybug.
And the thought of His Lady still sent that same thrill through him, the one he had tried to deny for the short duration of his ill-fated attempt to move on with Kagami. He still felt his heart squeeze with longing at the thought of his best friend and partner, still knew without a shadow of a doubt that his Lady had well and truly carved out a corner of his heart and that no one else would be able to take that space.
But where he had always firmly believed his heart was his Bug’s alone, now he was faced with the idea of Marinette carving out her own corner, and it was just as large as Ladybug’s portion - all without his having any idea or warning that it was happening. He had been so blinded by the brilliance of the one that the other had crept in without any awareness on his part, like the mouse superhero persona she had wielded so brilliantly.
It was all he could do to stop himself from letting out one of his patented love sick sighs while staring at her, the kind of sigh that usually had Plagg deliberately dropping cheese crumbs in his hair.
Because now that he thought about it, Marinette was the only person he knew that could measure up to Ladybug in her her kindness, her bravery, her selflessness, and her beauty - and Marinette managed it all without the aid of a miraculous.
It was with some relief that Ms. Bustier called them all together to play games. She had asked several class members to prepare traditional games from various parts of the world, and while they were all simple party games, they were hilariously fun.
After the last one, a wild romp led by Kim which he swore was a traditional Korean game (even though even Markov had never heard of it and the entire class was pretty sure he was making it up as he went along) Ms. Bustier called them over to the shade of a tree so that each of them could talk about the food they had brought and what it represented.
“Let’s head down over to the table, and you can present in alphabetical order. Adrien, tell us about what you brought.”
The truth was, his father and Nathalie didn’t even know he was here today. They had left him in his room to study and he had leapt out the window, and had been forced to come up with his own idea for what to bring, with only his little cheese gremlin for advice. He had completely forgotten he was meant to say something about family traditions on holidays. What could he talk about? Empty dining rooms, sitting alone at a long table, and broken promises?
He glanced around wildly for a moment, hoping for an akuma or some other distraction, and his eyes landed on Marinette. Sweet, kind Marinette, whose own family were so warm and welcoming. Marinette who hated liars.
He gathered his courage and spoke, aiming for the happiest truth he could find. “My father and I don’t do much for the holidays. He’s busy with work, and it’s mostly just the two of us. We do throw a holiday gala for our employees and associates, though, so that’s probably the main event. Our chef was too busy to make hors d'oeuvres for today though, so to represent that, I brought a cheese board, with a selection of smoked aged cheddar, Roquefort, Manchego, and Camemb--”
As he finished, his lifted his arm, gesturing to the cheese board in question, drawing the eyes of the entire class to the table laden with food…
...and to the two kwamis sitting in the middle of it all, gorging themselves.
Plagg stared back at them all for half a beat, then opened his mouth wide and crammed the remainder of the Camembert wheel into his mouth.
Tikki, who had a half-eaten croquembouche in her little paws and cream around her mouth seemed frozen for a long moment, then at Plagg’s movement to swallow the cheese, she smiled at the class a little uncertainly.
“Um… Meow?” she said.
“It’s a giant bug!” Rose squeaked, opening her mouth to scream.
“It’s not a bug, it’s a kwami,” Max corrected her.
“They’re Ladybug and Chat Noir’s kwamis,” Alya breathed reverently, and then she turned to Max. “Wait, how do you know what a kwami is?”
Max narrowed his eyes at her. “How do you know what a kwami is?”
Adrien felt his panic rising throughout this exchange, even as Tikki grabbed Plagg, looked in Adrien’s direction to communicate her intent, and phased through the table and out of sight, dragging Plagg with her. Adrien's classmates didn’t seem to notice as a babble of speculation erupted around them.
But had Tikki been looking him in the eye? Her gaze had been a little to his left. He glanced over to find Marinette beside him, peeking around his shoulder.
“Tikki…!!” She barely whispered it, barely breathed it in her exasperation, her eyes darting everywhere, taking in the scene, searching for a solution.
In that moment, he knew the truth.
It was her.
It was his Lady.
He knew it.
He had never been more sure of anything in his life.
Why else would Tikki be looking at Marinette?
And Marinette’s eyes darted around, just like Ladybug’s did when she was searching for a solution to her lucky charm. He had to stop himself from giving out a lovesick sigh. Of course the only girl to rival his Lady in both his affections and her abilities turned out to be his Lady!
Then it hit him: it wasn’t just his identity at stake, it was Ladybug’s, too. And Chat Noir would do anything to protect his Lady.
Time to do what he did best: create a distraction and cause chaos.
Stepping to the table, he picked up one of Nathaniel’s latkes, one beautifully spread with sour cream and a dollop of apple sauce, artfully made and looking delectable. With another mental apology to the artist, he turned to his classmates, latke in hand.
“Hey, Kim! Head up!” he yelled, and sent the potato pancake flying.
*SPLAT*
There was another horrified silence as the class absorbed what their sunshine child had just done.
The latke stayed stuck to Kim’s face for a long moment, then slithered down his nose, bounced off his chest, and landed at his feet, leaving most of the sour cream and applesauce smeared down his face like a cream pie from a slapstick comedy from a century ago.
With slow, deliberate movements, Kim reached up and wiped the cream away from his eyes so he could open them and glare at Adrien. “You know what this means, don’t you, Agreste?” he demanded.
Adrien had faced bigger foes than Kim and did not lack courage, but it did occur to him somewhere in the back of his mind that being yeeted across city blocks was only fun when he was wearing the suit. Still, he tucked the thought away and smiled pleasantly, channeling his inner Chat.
“Have I ever told you you’re the cream of the crop, Kim? That look suits you a latke .”
“Food fight?” Max enquired from Kim’s elbow. A small splot of cream had landed on his glasses.
“Food fight,” confirmed Kim, advancing to the table, his eyes still on Adrien.
“FOOD FIGHT!” crowed Alix, and then there was pandemonium.
Adrien sighed and simply accepted his fate as Kim seized the remaining croquembouche and started firing them at him in rapid succession, sending a spray of cream and pastry and sugar everywhere. Alix leapt on table and began firing dumplings at anyone, regardless of their innocence. Alya grabbed some cream meringues and started firing them back at Alix, though her aim wasn’t as good so she caught up several innocent bystanders. Mylene grabbed some sausage rolls and Ivan a bowl of marshmallows, and they went in side by side. Rose started throwing cheetos around like confetti, which didn’t do much except stick to those already covered with cream and other stickiness.
“Not the latkes!” Nathaniel cried, getting in the way of everyone and completely splattered with food as he moved to guard his contribution.
Ms. Bustier ran into the middle. “Stop this at once--” she began, but her path led her between Kim and Adrien, and Kim’s last missile had already been released.
It hit her on the chin.
The class went silent, horror-stricken, as she reached up a finger to swipe some of the cream away. She stared at it for a long moment. “This,” she said quietly, and a chill ran up their collective spines, “means war."
Seizing the dish of latkes off Nathaniel, she let out an unholy battle cry, and flung one at Adrien that landed squarely on his head like a hat.
Kim’s eyes lit up, and moments later food was going in every direction once more, with most of the students aiming for Ms. Bustier, all of them picking sides and betraying each other with shrieks of laughter.
Adrien took the opportunity to look around, to see if he could see her.
Marinette. His Lady. He was sure of it.
But where was she?
Tikki had indicated downward, and the tables were covered by a long, no-longer-white cloth.
Backing away from the pandemonium slowly, so as not to draw attention to himself, Adrien ducked under the tablecloth. He waited, a loud thump telling him that Alix was still leaping around up there, making sure that no one followed him. He didn’t want to bring fire upon Marinette, who appeared to have missed most of the mess.
When he was sure he was safe, he crawled further down the length of the table to where Marinette was sitting with her back to him having a stern word with two repentant kwamis, one sitting on each of her knees.
“...And as for you, Plagg, do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to leave Chat Noir? What if one of our classmates had been akumatized by Kim’s game, or the food fight? You both know Hawkmoth has used smaller excuses. If you couldn’t get to Chat, Tikki and I would be stuck and we wouldn’t have known why our partner wasn’t there.”
Adrien took the opportunity to clear his throat.
Marinette whipped around, her cheeks pinking. “A-Adrien! I… I was just…” she began, obviously in a panic. Adrien sat beside her calmly, and opened his palm next to Plagg for his kwami to hop onto.
“It’s fine, Bugaboo. And while you were completely right in what you were saying, Plagg was never further from me than Tikki was from you,” he said casually, bringing Plagg up to sit on his shoulder and then reaching out a finger to Tikki to stroke over her head. She nuzzled him back in greeting. Somehow it was easier to focus on the kwamis than on the fact that he had just casually outed himself to his partner, who was now staring at him with wide, blue eyes and plump, pink lips parted in shock. And he thought he had been in love with Ladybug or Marinette before? His love for each of them combined and grew exponentially, even as he sat there, too shy to do more than peek at her from the corner of his eye.
What if she hated the idea of being with Adrien as much as she hated the idea of being with Chat?
“C-Chat?” she whispered.
“Yes, My Lady,” he responded without hesitation. He had always expected Ladybug to be amazing in her civilian form, but he had underestimated just how incredible she really was. He was reminded as she stared up him.
Somewhere beyond the tablecloth that curtained them off from the world, he heard Alya shriek, “My glasses! You’re gonna get it, Lahiffe!” followed by Nino’s cackle.
“My Kitty is… Adrien?” Marinette asked.
He tried to brace his heart for the inevitable rejection but he had no defenses against her. “Is that so hard to believe?” he asked, his voice cracking.
He could feel her eyes on him. He felt exposed, naked.
No one had ever seen all of him before.
Not like this.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” she whispered. “You’ve been right here all along?”
Steeling himself, he lifted his eyes to meet hers - and saw in hers the same awe and wonder that he had felt upon learning who she was. “I’ll be beside you for as long as you’ll have me, in whatever capacity you want me,” he vowed in a breathless whisper.
“Kim! NOOOOOO!!!” Alix’s voice echoed from above, followed by a scuffle that rocked the table around them.
Marinette didn’t seem to notice, her eyes glistening suspiciously with tears that didn’t quite spill over, her lips curving in a tremulous smile, even as she reached up to flick some cream away from his cheek. “Did you really start a food fight to distract the class from the kwamis?” she asked, some of her Ladybug confidence seeping into her voice, though the question dripped with an affection he had never heard before.
He shrugged, grinned at her in his most Chat-like way. “I panicked,” he replied easily.
She giggled. He was reminded of the day their civilian selves became friends, of those blue eyes peeking out from beneath his umbrella. “Looks like this Kitty got his fair share of the cream,” she said, reaching up to remove the latke that was still balanced precariously on his head like a beret.
“I had to protect my Lady,” he replied, allowing his alterego’s charm to seep into his voice.
Marinette blushed and looked away, aimlessly tearing off an unscathed crumb of the latke and nibbling on it to fill the awkward silence that followed his flirt.
Oh. Right. Just because he was more in love with her than ever didn’t mean she returned his feelings. There was that other boy, most likely Luka, and--
“Adrien, there’s something you should know,” she said.
His heart dropped.
Here it comes , he thought.
“I’m listening,” he said, trying not to let his misery bleed through.
(“You got it in my shoe! That’s so gross!” echoed back to them over his words.)
“You should know because it’s not fair to you otherwise. And it doesn’t have to mean anything, I mean just because Chat Noir used to love Ladybug doesn’t mean you feel the same way now that you know I’m just me, but just to be safe, and to, you know, clear the air, you ought to know that the other boy I was in love with was you all along.”
Wait, what?
“What?” he asked, dumbfounded.
She was blushing, her cheeks rivaling her suit, her freckles standing out in contrast like spots, and it was the single most adorable thing he had ever seen in his life.
“I’ve been in love with Adrien ever since you apologized for the gum thing,” she said, her voice giving the smallest waver.
She was nervous, he realized with wonder. As if she thought there was even a possibility that he might reject her. As if that was within the bounds of possibility!
“I realized earlier this afternoon that maybe I wasn’t in love with Ladybug any more, because Marinette had stolen my heart from under my Lady’s nose,” he admitted.
She blinked, those blue eyes turning to meet his.
“I was on the brink of giving up on Adrien and asking Chat if he was still interested,” she replied breathlessly.
Oh.
Something inside of Adrien cracked open, took root, and grew in the gentle warmth of the one he loved returning his affections. He had honestly forgotten what it felt like to be loved in return. To his eternal mortification, tears welled in his eyes, leaving trails through the cream on his cheeks.
“Oh, Kitten,” she breathed, and before he could turn away in shame, her lips were on his, soft and fluttery, one of her fingers anchoring his jaw to guide them both.
“I love you,” he said helplessly as they parted. “More than just Ladybug or just Marinette.”
“I love you, too,” she replied sweetly.
A small voice piped up from Adrien’s shoulder. “Great, you love each other. Congratulations. Can I have cheese now?”
“Plagg, stop it! Ignore him, he secretly loves it when his kitten and my bug get together. He’s a big sap,” Tikki tsked.
“Wasn’t it you eating cheese that got us here?” Adrien demanded.
Plagg sniffed. “Yes, it was. And you’re welcome, I might add.”
Adrien rolled his eyes, and Marinette giggled, even as around them, all sounds of the food fight seemed to die away. He grinned at her, leaning in and meeting her lips in another sweet kiss, just because he could, guiding her hand that still cradled the latke so it wouldn’t smear either of them further.
He didn’t notice the kwamis disappearing from view in a hurry, or the table cloth being pulled away, until Alya’s voice broke through, much closer than any of the shrieks earlier.
“Well, well, well, what have we here?”
“How long has this been going on, dudes?” Nino added.
Adrien grinned his best Chat Noir grin down at Marinette, lifting her hand holding the latke and making a show of taking a bite, nipping her fingers playfully while he was at it. Around the mouthful, he replied thoughtfully, “Well, it may seem like a latke in a short space of time, but better latke than never?”
Marinette punched his shoulder, then reached up to kiss him again.
His heart was overflowing, by a latke. But he chose to keep that last thought to himself.