Archive of Our Own

The ride to school is mostly silent, aside from the swish of Adrien's jeans against the seat as he jiggles his knee incessantly. His bodyguard looks at him in the rearview mirror but Adrien is deep in thought.

Last night was...unusual. Eye-opening. Life-changing.

He can't take back what he knows and doesn't want to, but that one revelation led to a multitude of other questions that he simply doesn't have the answer to at the moment.

Marinette is Ladybug.

He saw her with his own two eyes, on the way home from yesterday evening's akuma fight as he vaulted over the Place des Vosges. Ladybug had a head start and he truly did not mean to follow her - didn't even know he was, honestly! - but he was headed back to a photoshoot in the opposite direction from home and somehow they'd crossed paths.

He couldn't miss the pink flash of her detransformation behind a bench (nor could he stop from thinking that was probably not as inconspicuous a place as his lady thought it was), and when Marinette walked toward home talking to her purse, well, that sealed the deal.

The entirety of last night was spent analyzing every detail of their relationships, both civilian and superhero, and he's headed to school now more in love but also more confused than ever.

The car stops at the curb in front of the school and The Gorilla gives his charge a little smile in the mirror. Adrien waves at him and exits the car with a deep, nervous breath.

"I feel so weird, Plagg," he whispers to the kwami hidden in his shirt. "Everything is different now."

"No, it's not. It'll be fine. Just be normal, kid."

"Normal how? Chat Noir normal or Adrien normal?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Plagg grumbles. "Maybe try normal like someone who doesn't talk to the inside of his overshirt. That kind of normal."

"Okay. Okay, I can do that." Adrien shakes out his hands and bounces twice on his toes before heading up the stairs.

Plagg just shakes his head.

Marinette makes it to class just in time to plunk a bag of croissants down beside Alya's notebook on their shared desk before the bell rings. She breathes a sigh of relief and settles in.

"Damn, I can smell the butter from here," Nino says, turning around with hopeful eyes.

She inclines the top of the bag toward him. "Go ahead, they're for all of us."

Alya snags one first. "Oooh, don't mind if I do."

"Are they really for everyone?" Adrien asks. His voice is soft and his cheeks are pink and Marinette is so struck by him that she can only nod in response.

Nino's sound of enjoyment borders on obscene, and Alya scatters crumbs everywhere when she nudges him in the shoulder.

"Why am I suddenly jealous of a croissant?"

Marinette giggles at her best friend and takes the last one from the bag. She's just finishing her first bite when Adrien twists in his seat and rests his forearm on her desk.

"Thank you, Marinette. You're always so thoughtful. You really are amazing."

"No, you're amazing," she hears herself say, her brain short circuiting. "I mean, it's amazing that...croissants! Croissants are so buttery." She takes a big bite and makes a noise akin to Nino's from a few moments before. "Mmmm. Amazing."

Please let me choke on this croissant and die, she thinks, before Alya kicks her under the table.

She swallows very carefully to make sure she doesn't actually choke. That would be super embarrassing. More embarrassing than the last ten seconds, even.

"You're welcome. I love to share food from the bakery."

(Did she just say 'I love you'? She isn't sure. She might have. Oh, no.)

"Well, it's always delicious."

(Apparently not. Crisis averted.)

"Thanks," she breathes.

When he turns around, Alya gives her a thumbs-up. "Good job," she mouths silently.

One bowl of word salad, two complete sentences. Not bad for the first few minutes of class.

Adrien is losing his mind.

Marinette (Ladybug!) is sitting directly behind him, reading the same literature textbook he is, breathing the same air he is, and being so adorably weird that he can just barely stand it.

It's just another weekday morning at school, but to him, everything has shifted and nothing looks quite the same as it did last week.

Marinette being Marinette has always filled him with a warm sense of admiration. She's so cute and funny, with her malapropisms and finger guns and general Marinette-ness. There's no one quite like her.

Just days ago, if asked, he'd have said that she was a wonderful friend whom he treasures spending time with and if pressed, would say with no reservations that she's someone he loves. She's Marinette. How can you not love her?

Today, though? Today, just being near her feels new and exciting. Today, his heart beats her name. And it's a beautiful name, but it sure is a distraction.

He's hyper aware of every page she turns, every sigh, every yawn. She sneezed during homeroom and it was so cute that he considered proposing.

When the bell finally rings for lunch, he collects his books in a daze. Alya bends to kiss Nino on the cheek before she and Marinette head out. Adrien watches them walk through the door, nearly jumping from his seat when Marinette trips on the threshold. Alya steadies her with a friendly jab about her clumsiness and he smiles.

Nino bursts his bubble as only best friends can do.

"Okay, dude, I know you weren't staring at Alya, so I'm going to go ahead and assume you've finally figured out that you're in love with Marinette." Nino raises his eyebrows and inclines his head. "Am I right? Tell me I am. I get €20 if I'm right."

"Finally?"

"That's the only word you took from that?"

Adrien just stares at him.

"Look, I knew you'd get there someday," Nino says, stuffing his books in his backpack. "You've looked at her with heart eyes for like, two years. Seriously, you have a Marinette Smile just for her and your eyebrows do this thing where they get all...I don't know, gooey."

"My eyebrows get gooey?"

"You knew what I meant!"

"I really did not, but okay." Adrien sighs. "Am I being obvious?"

Nino's eyes widen. "So I'm right?"

Adrien rubs the back of his neck. "You're not wrong, I just...didn't realize everyone knew. I didn't know until very recently."

"Nah, not everyone. But I'm your best bud. I could tell."

"Why didn't you tell me, then?" Adrien scoffs, standing and hoisting his bag onto his shoulder.

"And miss out on this little chat? Never." Nino laughs. "Plus, I scored €20 from you finally opening your eyes, and I wouldn't want to miss that, either."

"Gee, thanks, best pal. Glad I could deliver."

Nino claps him on the shoulder as they leave the room. "You're welcome. Now, tell me all about it. Just nothing weird. I've known Marinette forever."

"Sunshine sure was sunshiny this morning," Alya says, slamming her locker closed. "Like, sunny with an extra helping of sunshine. What do you think was up with that?"

"He said my pastries were delicious. Always delicious."

"Which is an objective fact, since your parents own a very successful bakery."

Marinette sighs dreamily. "He said I was amazing."

"He did, girl. He did." Alya pats her back and steers her around the bench so she doesn't trip. "And then you told him he was amazing and that croissants are buttery. That was delicious."

"Gee, thanks, bestie. So glad I could amuse you."

Alya returns Marinette's scowl with an unrepentant grin. "Did you see his face when you said that, though? His eyebrows did this thing they always do when he looks at you. I'm telling you, he goes all gooey. It's totally adorable."

Marinette's heart beats faster. The thought of Adrien looking at her like she looks at him is like something out of a dream. "Really?"

"Really."

Marinette squeals and bounces from one foot to the other in an excited wiggle.

Alya just laughs.

Behind them in the courtyard, Adrien trips over nothing and finds that he's having trouble breathing.

That butt wiggle is going to be the death of him.

Nino just laughs.

"I'm only saying you'd make a cute couple, that's all."

Marinette rolls her eyes as she opens her notebook and gets out a pencil. Her best friend misses that, however, because she's hunched over to the side of their bench, rummaging through her backpack.

"Black and green, white and pink...you're like, complementary. Aesthetically pleasing, you know?"

Marinette blinks. "O...kay?"

Adrien walks through the door with Nino and sends a soft smile Marinette's way as he shrugs off his bag and takes his seat. She thinks she smiles in return but can't be sure because her basic motor functions go haywire in his presence.

"Got it!" Alya straightens up, holding her battered old ladybug phone charm. "It keeps falling out of the jack. Guess I need a new one." She shrugs. "Anyway, I've even come up with a name for you two." She pauses for effect and adds jazz hands. "Marichat."

Marinette thunks her head on the desk. "Alya, no."

"Alya, yes!" she crows.

Ms. Bustier, having just walked in, looks at her with raised eyebrows. Alya smiles sheepishly.

Nino turns to her with a meaningful look. "Maybe not right now," he hisses, teeth clenched.

"Ship and let ship, Nino," Alya says, putting on a mock-haughty air. She cuts her eyes toward her best friend. "And I know you better than you know yourself, Miss Missy. Deny it all you want, but your bestie knows things."

Marinette peeks over her folded arms to see Adrien half-turned, staring not quite at Alya and not quite at Nino, his eyes unfocused, cheeks pink. She can't believe he just heard all that.

This is a disaster!

She takes a deep breath and steels herself to attempt to explain Alya's nonsense to the only boy she wants to share a portmanteau with (Maridrien? Adrienette? Either way, she loves it.)

Ms. Bustier chooses that moment to call the class to order, just as Adrien's hand shoots into the air.

"May I use the bathroom, Miss?"

Their teacher nods, and he's off like a shot, a blond blur there one moment and gone the next.

Nino shrugs. "Maybe he ate something weird at lunch?"

Adrien rushes to the last stall in the corner, shoes squeaking on the linoleum. Plagg zips out of his pocket just as he closes and locks the stall door.

"Okay, kid, what was that speedy exodus about? I'm pretty sure the whole class thinks you're in here pooping."

"I figured it out, Plagg! Everything makes sense!"

Plagg has serious doubts, but he just holds out a paw. "Cheese or I can't listen to this."

Adrien distractedly fishes the Camembert from his pocket and hands it to his kwami.

"Did you hear what Alya said? Marichat! Marichat!"

"Kind of a dumb name if you ask me."

Adrien ignores him. "Marinette still has a crush on Chat Noir! Alya would know, Plagg! I've read that girls tell each other everything about stuff like this!" He begins to gesture with his index fingers, as though pointing to the parts of a complex equation only he can see. "Marinette is in love with Chat Noir. And Marinette is Ladybug, so by the transitive property of crushes, Ladybug loves me, because I'm Chat Noir!"

"I sure hope you're the only one in here, or this is about to be way more embarrassing than if you were actually pooping."

"Hush, Plagg. I've connected the dots!"

Plagg wants so badly to inform his holder that he hasn't connected shit, but he refrains. Barely. He takes another bite of cheese.

"Ladybug actually does love Chat Noir,” Adrien continues, “she just can't act on her feelings because of her sense of duty!" He sighs, lovelorn. "She's been holding back all this time. Oh, My Lady. So responsible." He sighs again, eyes soft. That is, until a thought dawns on him, and his gaze sharpens. "Oh no," he whispers, locking wild eyes with his kwami. "I turned her down. I turned her down, Plagg! What if it was a test and I failed? What if I've missed my chance?"

There is not enough cheese in the world for this nonsense.

"Do you hear yourself, kid? Do you?"

"Of course I do. Things are just so much clearer to me now!"

"Clear as mud," Plagg mutters.

"What I don't understand, though, is why someone so smart and so good at strategizing would think a plan like that would work when I'd barely hung out at all with Marinette as Chat Noir at that point." Adrien stares into the middle distance again, lost in thought. "I guess not every plan of hers is solid. I mean, she did detransform behind a bench in the middle of the park..."

For a few moments, the only sound in the stall is Plagg chewing. He's savoring the earthy, nutty flavor of each bite. His cheese sustains him in times like these. Plagg adores his holder, but holy crap.

Adrien's eyes widen again, as though he's discovered the secrets of the universe.

"What if by 'I'm in love with someone else' she meant 'I need to be someone else to be in love with you, Chat'?"

Plagg stares at him just long enough for the silence to become uncomfortable.

"Kid."

"She blushed when I kissed her cheek! I'm sure I'm right!"

"I can't believe you haven't strained a muscle with all the mental gymnastics you've done in the past five minutes. You're really not making as much sense as you think you are."

Adrien shakes his head. "She loves me, Plagg. She loves Chat Noir. And she wants me to love all of her! And I do! Of course I do!" His eyes go as soft as Plagg's favorite cheese. "I just need to show her."

"Are you saying you're going to go back to class and ask Marinette on a date? Please tell me that's what you're planning and not—"

"I'll visit her as Chat Noir this evening."

Plagg sighs.

"It'll be perfect, you'll see," Adrien promises, opening his overshirt for Plagg to hide inside and heading over to the sink to wash his hands. He looks at himself in the mirror and sighs for the fifteenth time today.

"Oh, so that's what they mean by gooey," he says to himself.

Oh, well.

He gives his reflection a wide smile and double finger guns and heads back to class.

"Was Adrien acting super weird this afternoon, or was that just me?"

"Yeah, you were definitely acting super weird, Als."

Alya sticks her tongue out at her best friend. "You knew what I meant. He's been off all day."

"Sheesh, this morning you said he was too sunshiny, now you think he's too weird. Make up your mind about what's wrong with the love of my life, would you?"

"Come on," she says, throwing an arm over Marinette's shoulder as they make their way through the courtyard, "I never said he was too sunshiny or too weird. Just enough to be noticeable."

Marinette rolls her eyes and laughs. "He's always noticeable."

"Truth."

They say their goodbyes and head home, though Marinette only stops into the bakery to leave her bookbag and kiss her maman's cheek before heading off again.

She has an important shopping trip ahead.

Chat Noir leans against the terrace railing looking across the Seine. He's sighed several more times over the past half hour, some swooning, some impatient. It just depends on the thought that precedes it which type it will be.

He glances back at the darkened windows of the third floor of the bakery and sighs again. (Impatient.)

He'd hurried up to his room as soon as he got home, paced and pondered and drove his kwami crazy until his Mandarin tutor arrived, blown through the lesson with single-minded focus (the focus was on being finished) and transformed as soon as possible after Nathalie informed him that he'd be eating alone tonight.

Big surprise. But this time he'd been glad for it.

That is, until he'd found Marinette's terrace empty and her bedroom dark. He'd peeked in the bakery windows like a peeping tom and didn't see her helping there, either. So up he'd vaulted to the terrace across the street from hers, the one where he'd set up the romantic picnic for Ladybug so long ago.

He sighs at the thought. (Swooning.)

The boy. The boy was him all along! Chat Noir, her faithful partner, loving her back all this time but never realizing she wanted him to really see her. But how could he, with identities in the way?

His eyes widen. Maybe she detransformed right out in the open behind that bench because she knew he was there and she wanted him to see! That doesn't seem like something she'd do, but he's done far stupider things for love.

Chat Noir's swooning sigh turns impatient as he checks behind him and sees her windows still dark.

But there! A flash of pink under the evening streetlights, hurrying up the stairs from the metro station and down the sidewalk toward the bakery.

He bypasses a sigh of any variety and grins brightly as he jumps down to meet her, ignoring the pounding of his heart.

Marinette's journey back from the craft store has passed in a blur of spinning thoughts.

More than once, she's cursed Hawk Moth and his stupid akumas for taking up so much of her time. She'd have been done with her friends' Christmas gifts days ago if not for that jerk. As it is, she has to be finished by tomorrow.

She rushes up the metro steps deep in thought. Nino's gift will take the longest, though she's already planned the design of the turntable covers; cutting the cork with precision will be the most time-consuming. Adrien's gloves are already started, thank goodness, and Alya gave her a great idea today that she can whip up relatively quickly with the sculpting clay she just purchased.

If she begins before supper, she figures, she can probably finish one glove and then start on Alya's...

"Bonsoir, Mademoiselle!"

With a shriek, she slams into the black-clad chest that appears out of nowhere, dropping her bag in the process and toppling backwards. She's caught at the last second by a strong, gloved hand and hoisted back to her feet in one smooth motion.

"What the hell, Chat Noir?" she growls.

He has the good sense to look sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand before crouching down and picking up the items she dropped. His hand stays at his neck even after he offers her the bag.

"I, um...sorry? I just saw you down here and, you know...thought I'd say hi?"

She crosses her arms and glares up at him. "Hi."

His face falls and he sighs, looking for all the world like a lost and lonely kitten. Her partner really is unfairly cute. So cute she can't even stay mad at him.

"It's okay, Chat," she says, bumping his arm with her shoulder as she starts toward home, suppressing a little smile when he pivots and keeps pace next to her. "You just kind of appeared out of thin air and scared the crap out of me. Maybe don't do that to people."

"Yeah. It, uh...seemed like a good idea at the time."

She nods. "A lot of things do, until you do them."

"You're not wrong."

They continue in silence as the bakery nears, until she stops him with a hand on his wrist. "Is everything okay?" she asks.

His eyes widen in surprise. "Okay? Of course, yeah. Nothing going on at all. Why wouldn't everything be totally okay?"

If that was meant to be convincing, it was not. Marinette's brows furrow. "Why are you out at this time in the evening? This isn't when you patrol."

"How do you know when I patrol?"

Shit. Think fast, Marinette. "I'm...out on the roof a lot. I've seen you and Ladybug around, but it's always later."

He shrugs, seemingly placated. "Not always. And a cat does have a natural urge to prowl, after all."

He raises his clawed hands in what he might think is a menacing wild cat gesture, but just looks like 'y'know, nyah'. Marinette has to stifle a giggle. Her partner is the biggest dork on earth, but he's her best friend and she really does adore him.

"Were you prowling for bakery leftovers?" She points up to her terrace ahead of them. "Meet me in ten and I'll see what I can scavenge for us, okay?"

Chat's big green eyes go velvety-soft as a smile lights his face.

"I would love that, Marinette. Thank you."

This is one of those things that seems like a good idea right up until you do it.

He'd spent all day simultaneously reveling in and going crazy over her proximity at school and now that he's alone with her, he's a complete mess inside.

Chat Noir is so glad for puns right now. Puns are always there. Puns don't ask questions. Puns understand.

He points at the bright green gloves she's knitting. "Are those for me? I'll be green with envy if they're not."

She snorts. "They are absolutely not for you, so you'll just have to take your jealousy elsewhere, Kitty."

"Oh, fine," he pouts, taking another bite of croissant and watching her work.

In a way, it feels like a quieter version of seeing Ladybug in action, all focused and intent and disarmingly attractive.

Marinette's nose scrunches up every once in a while (which is adorable) and her tongue pokes from the side of her mouth (which is distracting). He's just sitting cross-legged on the floor eating croissants and watching her knit, but his heart is racing as though he's gone for a run.

She hasn't told him who the gloves are for, but he wonders if they're a gift for him, for Adrien. She's seen him wear the scarf his father gave him for his fourteenth birthday and seems to be creating these gloves with the same precise knit. Having her present him with a gift she made by hand is like a dream come true. He can't help but hope he's right.

"So...you never told me why you were catting about at dusk on a weekday. Just bored?"

"You could say that." He shrugs, though she doesn't look up. "I just need to escape my house sometimes."

Her needles stop their rhythmic clacking and she meets his gaze. He feels a little bit raw, a little bit exposed. But then, he's always wanted to open up to his Lady, and here he is in front of her with her warm blue eyes filled with concern. For him.

He panics.

"Yarn't you glad I came to visit?" He shoves the rest of the croissant in his mouth and tries not to spray crumbs everywhere like a boor. His father would lose his mind if he saw him like this. (For more reasons than one.)

Marinette laughs, and the knot in his chest loosens a fraction. Oh, he loves her laugh. He thinks of the multitude of ridiculous puns he's made during akuma fights to lighten the mood, her many good-natured eye rolls and little giggles. He wonders how Marinette would react if Adrien punned like this. He'd probably combust on the spot at the sound of her laughter, the twinkle in her eyes, maybe that little butt wiggle if she's charmed enough by his humor...

"Chat? Chat!" Her voice snaps him from his reverie, and when he focuses his eyes he sees a different kind of concern in hers. "You're being a little weird tonight. Do you even realize you're staring at me?"

He did not, and now he feels like a creep. He sighs, resigned. This isn't going well at all. How can he show her that he loves all of her if he can't keep from getting all dreamy in her presence and making her think he's lost his mind?

"I'm sorry, Marinette. Maybe I should just...?" He gestures to the rooftop hatch with his thumb.

She puts down her knitting in haste, eyes wide. "No, no. You don't need to go. Here, just a minute. We can—"

As she turns to grab several items from the craft store bag, his heart soars. He's right. She does love him. He grins helplessly and stands up, joining her at her desk and looking over the clay blocks she's unwrapping.

"Can this humble cat be of assistance, Princess?"

"Actually, yes! You're always so warm. Would you roll these in your hands to soften them up?"

She carefully cuts off a small end piece of each color: black, red, green, and yellow. Chat takes the red piece wordlessly and begins to roll it into a ball in his hand. His mind is racing.

Does she not realize what she just said? Or did she say it on purpose?

He watches as she takes out a little plastic mat and an X-acto knife, then prepares two short lengths of thin black cord.

"Alya said today that her phone charm—"

"Keitai strap," he interrupts.

Marinette holds his gaze, unblinking, one eyebrow raised, until she breaks into a laugh. "As I was saying, you weeb, Alya's phone charm keeps falling out, and I noticed it's looking a little worse for wear anyway, so I thought I'd make her a new set." She smiles up at him. "But this time, she's getting Ladybug and Chat Noir. They're a team, after all."

He's struck speechless. Still rolling the clay ball idly in his hands, he can only nod.

It isn't something that Marinette should know, but he really does run hot, especially in the suit, so the red ball of clay is sufficiently warmed and pliable in no time. He picks up the black piece and repeats the action, lost in thought.

He sets it down beside the red ball, but before he takes the green, he makes a decision.

"I guess we're clayed for each other, eh, Marinette?"

Her eyes snap to his. "What?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

It takes effort, but Chat holds his smile in place. "Don't you find me chat-arming?"

Her clear confusion confuses him. He can feel his smile slipping even before she stands abruptly and announces that she needs to use the bathroom.

"O...kay," he says, picking up the green clay. This is all going to disaster by the moment. He's sure he's right. He's sure! So why does it suddenly feel like he's misread everything?

Her cheeks pinken and her hand scrabbles behind her back. "I don't know why I said it like that, but if you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll be right back. Just...keep doing that."

And in a blur of pink, she's wrenched the trap door open and disappeared.

"Maybe she ate something weird after school," Chat says to the empty room.

Marinette dashes downstairs to the bathroom, slippers sliding on the tile. Tikki zips from her cupped hand just as she closes and locks the door.

"My goodness, Marinette!" Tikki squeaks. "What was that all about?"

"That's what I want to know! What is that cat up to?"

Tikki just looks at her, bewildered. "I think he's lonely and wants to spend time with a friend. Isn't that why you invited him in?"

"Yes, but I didn't expect him to act like this!" Marinette stomps her foot. "Is he flirting with me? Why would he do that?"

"Maybe he has a crush on you, Marinette," Tikki supplies helpfully.

"No way. No no no no no. Absolutely not."

"Why not? You're a beautiful young lady, you know. It's not surprising that—"

"Because he's supposed to be in love with Ladybug!" Her eyes widen. "Oh my gosh, Tikki, what if he's moved on?"

"Wouldn't that be a good thing, since you don't have feelings for him?"

"Well, yes, but..." Marinette sits down on the closed toilet lid with a huff. "Aren't cats supposed to be loyal?"

"I think you're thinking of dogs."

"And what about all of his 'my ladys' and 'my buguinettes'? Did those mean nothing to him?"

"May I remind you that you often call him ‘your kitten’?"

Marinette groans and tugs on her pigtails. "Ugh, why couldn't he just stay in love with Ladybug? What am I going to do if he's moved on to me?"

The little red kwami just stares at her holder, keeping eye contact for an uncomfortably long time. Marinette does not look away.

Finally, Tikki breaks the silence. "Marinette, you are Ladybug."

"I know that!" she hisses in frustration. "But he doesn't!

She gasps.

"Oh, no, Tikki. What if he knows? What if he knows my identity and he's been playing me like this is all some kind of game to him?" She turns to Tikki, eyes wild. "Oh my gosh, he showed up out of the blue and scared me, then manipulated me into letting him into my room, and now he has the audacity to come onto me as a civilian?!"

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Tikki demands. "Do you actually hear what you're saying out loud about your partner, one of your best friends?"

Marinette looks up at her kwami, her breathing quick and shallow.

Tikki's eyes soften. "I know, you're spiraling." She tucks her little body against her holder's cheek. "But I think you might be working under a flawed assumption. I've never known Chat Noir to do anything with malicious intent, have you?" Tikki feels her shake her head. "Maybe he does know your identity, but we'll cross that bridge if and when we come to it. I think the bigger question is why you're so upset about the idea of him moving on. Didn't you and Alya just talk about the fact that Chat has shown that he likes both sides of you?"

Marinette takes deep breaths and closes her eyes as she thinks back on her earlier conversation with Alya, the catalyst for her teasing about ‘Marichat’ after lunch.

"I still can't believe it took you so long to realize that Chat Noir genuinely had feelings for you. If I had known you were Ladybug back then, I'd have knocked some sense into you, girl."

"Alya, I told you, he was super goofy about it—"

"He's a teenage boy whose supersuit comes with cat ears and a jingly bell," Alya interjects. "Did you expect him to be anything other than goofy?"

"Well, no, but...I'm telling you, he flirted with me as Marinette, too! I thought he was some kind of...Casanova!"

"I think you mean Cat-sanova, but more to the point, all I'm hearing is that he likes both Marinette and Ladybug, who by the way are both you. You do realize that's what you're saying, right?"

"Tikki," Marinette whispers behind the hands that now cover her face, "Alya just doesn't understand, and I don't think you do, either. I love him, of course, but I'm not in love with any of the sides of Chat Noir. I like Adrien. I love Adrien...and that's all. I can't handle this attention from Chat Noir. Not right now."

Her kwami doesn't say a word at first. When Marinette uncovers her face it's to see that Tikki's eyes are closed and she's taking deep, even breaths. "There are not enough cookies in the world," she finally mutters.

"You...want cookies?"

"No, Marinette." She pauses and opens her big blue eyes. "Well, yes, of course I do. But I want a lot of things that I can't have."

Marinette blinks once, twice, again. "We're going to talk later when Chat Noir isn't alone in my bedroom, aren't we?"

"Yes. Yes, we are."

He's spinning idly in Marinette's pink desk chair, still rolling a ball of clay in his hands. He's spent the last few minutes alternating between each of the colors, keeping them warm and soft in anticipation of her return.

He's also spent that time gazing around her room, daydreaming about replacing the many solo photos of him with pictures of the two of them together (as civilians, of course).

If he had the chance, he'd take her for walks in the park, across the Seine, to cozy little cafes where they'd share dinner together. He'd snap photos at every stop, filling up his phone's internal memory with a visual record of their love story and printing them for her to decorate her room.

He sighs, lost in a haze of love, which is why he misses the sound of Marinette coming up the stairs.

When the chair spins around, he finds her standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed.

"Oh, sorry, Princess!" Chat scrambles up from the chair and motions for her to sit. "I didn't hear you at all. You're as quiet as a mouse!"

She makes no move to sit down. "What are you doing here, Chat Noir?"

Surprised, he rubs the back of his neck and tries for humor. "Wow, using my full name. Am I in trouble?"

"I thought you were in love with Ladybug?"

What kind of question is that? She can’t possibly be jealous. Can she? he thinks. "I...am?"

She huffs. "You don't sound sure of it."

"Oh, I'm definitely sure of it. I'm confused about why that bothers you, though."

"Because you've been flirting with me since you got here!" she exclaims, throwing her hands in the air. She finally sinks into her desk chair, only to cross her arms again.

It really is unfair how cute she looks when she's exasperated.

And maybe those big blue angry eyes addle his brain a little. Maybe that's why he says what he says next.

"You’re right, I have."

She stares up at him for a moment. "You have?"

He nods.

"But you're in love with Ladybug."

He nods again. "I am."

Well, there it is. He waits and waits, knowing his brilliant partner will make the connection sooner or later. He hadn't intended to let the cat out of the bag quite so soon, but it's running around her bedroom at breakneck speed right now. She just needs to see it.

Marinette gasps.

Ah, there you go, Buguinette. I knew you'd get it.

She stands and searches his eyes for a long, long moment before finally sitting down again with a deep sigh, her gaze firmly on the floor.

That sigh does not sound promising. Neither does the fact that she can't meet his eyes.

"Look, Chat, you're my best friend," she begins, and something in her voice makes his knees buckle. He sits down in a heap on the floor, still listening but not really wanting to hear what comes next. "I understand that you found out...somehow. But that...that doesn't change anything. I've told you. I've told you so many times." Her gaze finally meets his, her eyes sad. "I'm in love with someone else."

All of a sudden Chat Noir finds breathing very difficult. To his horror, tears burn his eyes. He looks away, making eye contact with himself on her corkboard. He finds that closing his eyes is simpler.

How did he get this so wrong? What about what Alya said, and that night when Weredad happened, and the transitive property of crushes? What about 'Marichat'?

"I'm so sorry, Chaton."

He wants to be angry at the term of endearment. He wants to demand to know exactly who this punk is so he can go have a word with him. Instead he stands to leave, silently setting the green ball of clay he was still holding on her desk. As he does, he accidentally hits her computer's mouse.

The monitor awakens, springing to life in bright pinks and blues. His own face looks at him several times over, mostly the brooding gazes photographers coax from him, but he does spot that ridiculous cologne ad in the background.

The swirl of hearts overlaid on the pictures and framing his face tells him a secret (shouts it, really) that he never would have guessed.

Of course Ladybug has never returned Chat Noir's affection. Her civilian heart has always belonged to someone else. Him.

Still standing stock-still beside her desk, he looks around the room. Photos of him everywhere, gifts-in-progress for Nino and Alya, and the unfinished green gloves the exact shade of his eyes. They must be for him, for Adrien.

A swell of emotion makes his chest ache, and suddenly he's laughing, because that's all he can do at the moment.

Holy crap, he thinks. We're so, so stupid.

He turns to find her looking up at him, eyes still sad and brows furrowed in confusion at his laughter. He dares to take her hand and press a kiss to the back of it. She doesn't say a word, but she also doesn't stop him.

"My Lady," he murmurs, watching her eyes widen. "Behind a bench in the park is not as good a place to detransform as you think it is."

Her jaw drops.

"Also, these?" He picks up the nearly-completed glove, careful not to snag it. "These are going to be gorgeous, and I can't wait for you to give them to me at school tomorrow. They match my eyes perfectly."

He shoots her a cheeky wink, and with superhero speed and feline grace, he's vaulting from her terrace railing before she can say a word.

She stares at her skylight, stunned.

"Well," Tikki drawls, "I guess we're crossing that bridge right now."

Marinette finally looks at her kwami, then at her computer screen, and back at Tikki.

"Did he just make fun of my transformation spot when he voiced himself in a movie about his superhero self?"

She turns incredulous eyes to the skylight once more and shakes her head.

Chat Noir makes his way home across the wintry rooftops, his heart soaring.

Baton-coptering over an intersection, he thinks of the half-finished knitting project on Marinette's desk.

Those gloves are going to be beautiful, he knows, crafted with skill and care by the hands of the girl he loves. They'll make a wonderful Christmas present indeed. But he’s already been given the best gift he can imagine.

The future looks brighter already.

He sighs happily and vaults over to his window.

He has no doubt that his lady - Marinette! - will make an appearance here in short order, probably with that irresistible angry expression that makes his mind go fuzzy at the edges.

He can't wait.

Marinette hasn't moved from her desk chair.

"Tikki, did that really just happen?"

"It did!" Tikki giggles.

Marinette closes her eyes and stands up. "I'm going to kill that cat."

"Kill or kiss?"

There's a moment of silence.

"Both."

Tikki grins. "Ready when you are, Marinette."