Chapter Text
2042
“Bug…”
“No.”
Chat glanced sideways at his wife, fighting back a smirk as she glared out at the city. The superhero duo sat side-by-side near the top of the Eiffel tower. His feet dangled carefree over the edge, the same way they had when he was still a reckless teenager who’d thought he had nothing to lose. In contrast, Ladybug sat cross-legged on the iron beam, arms crossed angrily across her chest.
“Don’t you think we’ve left the kids their own devices for long enough? I’d rather go home before they have a chance to burn the place down.”
Ladybug sighed heavily. “They’re fine. Emma’s fourteen. Hugo and Louis are eleven. They can stay alive on their own for a couple more hours. Besides, the damage is already done.”
He had to bite back laughter at her tone. Damage...was a little dramatic. Sure, the kids had broken a vase, but it had been a Christmas gift from Chloé that he knew for a fact Marinette despised. Aside from that, the only casualties had been the soaked book he’d left on the coffee table—which really, after a month spent bookmarked midway through the first chapter, he was kidding himself when he pretended he was actually going to read it anyways—and a few bags of flour that had fallen off the shelves of the pantry.
“M’lady, it’s not entirely their fault...”
At his comment, a pair of bluebell eyes narrowed in a glare swung to look at him. Oops. Apparently that had been the wrong thing to say.
“Not their fault? How many times have I talked to them about not riling up the Kwamis? But do they listen? Noooo. It’s all, ‘But maman, Xuppu was bored,’ or ‘Roarr promised she’d be careful this time.’”
“Well, the Kwamis should know better too.”
“That doesn’t make it ok!! I mean, God, by Emma’s age we were already responsible for protecting the entire city, and—”
Chat cut her off with a pointed look. “And look at how much therapy that landed us with.”
“Ugh. I know, I know. They’re just being kids, and I’m so glad they get to enjoy that. It’s just that I was really looking forward to a nice night of peace and quiet for once. Just once! A nice glass of wine and maybe a bubble bath. And tonight was one of my last chances before the mad dash leading up to the release of the new line starts up, and then I’ll barely even have time to breathe, let alone actually relax.”
“I know, Bug. I know.”
She sighed heavily, and her eyes glanced out towards the lights of the city once more. He bumped her shoulder gently with his own to try and cheer her up. At first, she gave a little huff of protest, but another bump prompted her to turn to look at him again. She softened when their gazes met, and after another, far less dramatic, sigh she uncrossed her legs, letting them dangle beside his, and scooted closer to him. He wrapped an arm around her, smiling to himself when she leaned her head on his shoulder.
“How about this? Ten more minutes, then we go home—” he held up a finger to her lips as she opened her mouth to argue “—and then I purromise we’ll do something tomorrow night just the two of us. I’ll take you to that new restaurant we’ve been wanting to try.”
Her arms wrapped around his waist in a gentle hug. “Alright Chaton.”
***
The two superheroes de-transformed in an alley a few blocks away from their home, and quietly walked the rest of the way side-by-side. They didn’t announce their return right away, slipping quietly inside and heading to the kitchen to investigate whether or not the mess had been dealt with. Marinette led the way, and right before they entered the kitchen she stopped Adrien in the entryway with a hand on his chest. She turned and held a finger to her lips with a small smile to tell him to be quiet. He nodded and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head as he leaned back against the doorframe. Hidden from their kids’ views, they watched the scene play out before them.
“Hugo,” Emma said exasperatedly from where she stood next to the kitchen island. There was a smear of flour on her pyjama shirt and she held a trash bag that definitely needed to be double bagged given that it had a large piece of glass poking out dangerously near its bottom. Nevertheless, there was an air of authority to her voice, clearly identifying her as the one in charge of the clean-up mission. “You missed like...half of the flour you were supposed to be cleaning up.”
“I’m not done yet,” protested the dark-haired boy as he walked back into the kitchen with a broom and dustpan. “You told me to stay out of the kitchen until you’d finished sweeping up the broken glass, so I started late.”
Louis—the spitting image of his twin brother and the only one of their three kids who tended to avoid trying to start fights—walked in and padded up next to Emma. “I fed the Kwamis. And I— ” he yawned “—I finally got them to go back in the Miracle Box. Also, Hugo, you spent like twenty minutes playing video games after Emma finished her part.”
“Kwamis, Hugo, did you even finish your homework?”
“Um….”
Emma let out a huff of annoyance. “Maman and papa are going to freak if you don’t finish your project.” A helpless shrug from Hugo met her words, and she rolled her eyes. “Just go. I’ll clean up the flour.”
Hugo broke into a surprised smile. “Really?”
“Go. Before I change my mind,” she grumbled.
“You know,” Adrien mumbled to Marinette, “you’re always saying Emma is just like me, but the way she’s standing right now? The whole hands on her hips thing as she takes charge thing? That’s all you.”
“Hmm…I guess there’s some hope for these kids yet.”
Adrien laughed, and they walked into the kitchen, hand-in-hand.
The blonde girl turned towards them, eyes wide. “Oh...shit.” Louis giggled as Marinette raised her eyebrows. “I mean...shoot? Sorry? I was really trying to have this all cleaned up by the time you two got back, but—”
Marinette held up her free hand to cut Emma off. “It’s fine. We know you tried.” She released Adrien’s hand and walked forward to grab the trash bag carefully from Emma’s outstretched arm. She handed it to Adrien before she pulled her daughter into a hug. “I’m sorry I yelled.”
“It’s ok, maman. We’re sorry too.”
Emma squirmed out of the hug after a few seconds, at that age where she was “too cool” to let her mother coddle her for too long.
Marinette looked around the kitchen briefly, letting out a loud sigh for the hundredth time that evening. “Alright,” she said, putting her hands on her hips as she took control. “Let’s finish cleaning this up, then we can see if there’s still enough flour to make some cookies.”
2050 — The Final Battle
Chat Noir perched midway up the Eiffel Tower, taking in the the scene on the Champs de Mars before him. The two Butterfly Miraculous yielders—Farfalla and Ulysses—were facing off against each other, separated by a couple hundred meters at most. Farfalla’s zombified Akuma victims were steadily advancing on Ulysses, who held Marinette—the present-day Marinette, this Chat Noir ’s Marinette—tightly in his arms. The Akumatized Coccinelle flew through the air with her celestial wings, picking off victims of the Akumas powers and transforming them back to their normal states while Saviour—Ulysses’ other Akuma—created magical clouds to float the restored civilians away to safety. To Chat’s left, mini-Noire and past-Ladybug stood side-by-side, watching the same events unfold.
Even after the events of the past week it was jarring to see Noire at fourteen again. He didn’t miss the way his daughter had her fists clenched at her sides. She was trying so hard to be brave as she readied herself to take part in the kind of battle her parents had hoped she’d never be a part of, especially so young.
They’d never have been able to keep her from the Black Cat Miraculous entirely though, he thought with a smile, remembering the way Plagg had taken to Emma long before she’d even taken her first steps. The way the little girl growing up had always seemed to find herself in some spot of trouble, with a mischievous smile that had melted into wide innocent eyes the second she realized she’d been caught and she’d needed to appeal to her parents’ more magnanimous sides.
Sending her into battle now felt like a betrayal of the memory of those tiny eyes that had pleaded with him to keep her safe, but Chat had lived through this battle before. He’d seen the way this fight played out, albeit from a different vantage point. Things were going to be ok.
They had to be.
Ladybug turned, and their gazes met. There might be eight years between the two of them, but he was sure the connection they had could span millennia and be just as strong. She nodded, slowly, seeking the same reassurance he sought in her.
He nodded back, signaling that he was ready, and watched as Ladybug placed a hand on mini-Noire’s shoulder, readying the young girl. Then they all leaped off of the tower, jumping into the battle.