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Shifting back in the makeup chair, Juleka hissed in appreciation as she felt the bones in the small of her back pop, relief seeping through her body at the release of pressure.
“You all right there, Juleka?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, hair falling across her face in its customary curtain before she swept it back with a laugh. “Just tired and uncaffeinated.”
She slumped somewhat melodramatically onto the brightly lit makeup table, cheek sliding a little forward on the surface. Fortunately, the makeup artists had been too busy reminding her that, no, she could not drink her coffee until later for fear of staining her teeth to actually put any makeup on her yet. She would never have survived their wrath otherwise.
“And you didn’t bring a straw?” She could just hear the smirk in his tone as he clicked his tongue. “Rookie mistake, Jules.”
Juleka attempted to work up a witty retort, but settled for sticking her tongue out at her coworker.
“Lucky for you,” Adrien grinned, looking far too cocky for a man with that many curlers in his hair. “I am no rookie.”
She shot up and swiped the straw out of his hand, sliding it into her drink with one smooth motion. The first long sip made her nearly purr in pleasure, much to Adrien’s obvious snickering amusement. “Ooh, I could just kiss you.”
Bright red blushes burned through his practiced poise and layers of makeup, leaving the shy boy she’d met five years ago peeking through the model facade. “It’s just a straw,” he almost stammered, rubbing one hand across his neck just shy of the curlers.
Juleka stifled her giggles with another long sip of coffee as Adrien folded himself into the chair next to her. She looked at his reflection yawn broadly in the mirror and felt the smile pull at the corners of her mouth. It was a pleasant warmth in her heart to see him so relaxed and casual around her.
When they’d first become classmates, Adrien seemed perfect – almost a little too perfect – attractive, polite, smart. He’d helped coax her into confidence at her very first photo shoot with Marinette, he’d helped comfort her during her accidental reveal of Rose’s illness. He had seemed perfect and model-attractive in his ads before she’d met him properly, and he seemed like a prince come to life when they’d finally met.
Just over a year had passed before Juleka realized that it was a facade.
Well, not all of it. The politeness, the intelligence, the attractiveness were all genuine. But he was also a total nerd and goofball.
Serendipity had somehow caused some of the pictures they’d taken of modeling some more of Marinette’s fashions to fall across Gabriel Agreste’s desk (okay, maybe not so much serendipity as Monsieur Agreste’s selective eagle-eyed focus on anything involving his son’s image), and peaked his interest. He’d extended an initial invite through a courier which had initially terrified her, and, when that failed, sent Adrien to work his charm.
Adrien, predictably, had discarded the ordered charm for a more honest approach, which was all the more charming. He’d come over to her houseboat and, after a jam session with Kitty Section, had mentioned that his father was interested in having her as a model. “It’s up to you, though,” he’d assured her, “and you should probably have your dad’s manager double check any contract they write up. But I remember how excited how you were about that photo shoot for Marinette – and if you want to give it a shot, I’ll be right there with you.”
She had given it a shot.
Time had passed more quickly than she’d imagined possible, the past five years flying by in a flurry of fabrics, camera flashes, and poses. She’d learned to wield her expression and posture like a weapon, with Adrien coaching her along the way. He’d taught her how to keep alert in the pre-dawn makeup calls and the late evening shoots. He’d been there to keep her from tearing out every follicle of hair just so they’d stop trying to style it. He’d made her laugh and smile even when her face felt raw from all the makeup being applied, removed, and applied again.
The fashion world had a way of chewing one up and spitting them out, and Juleka could only imagine that having Adrien as a friend proved an incredible buffer.
Because that had also happened over the past five years, they’d become friends. Juleka had always found him friendly and charming, but something about all the time spent together helped to see the real Adrien, who was indeed really friendly and charming, but also a complete dork.
She’d seen him stumbling bleary-eyed into the makeup booth, his customary smile dimmed a couple watts, groaning for coffee before flopping dramatically into his chair. Not two photoshoots in, he’d frantically waved her over to where he and the two cameramen were cooing over videos of kittens. During the first photoshoot where they’d modeled Gabriel’s new swimsuit collection, she’d watched in amazement as he’d enthusiastically debated which anime character was more likely to win in a fight with the set assistant who was slathering oil on his chest.
He wasn’t perfect, he was silly, dramatic, and a cat-whisperer – and Juleka liked him a lot better than way.
Juleka took another invigorating slurp of caffeine. “What time do we need to be ready?”
Adrien popped a crick in his neck. “Still an hour to go.”
“Hmm.” Juleka pushed the coffee away from the edge of the table to a more secure spot. “Plenty of time to beat your record, then.”
Snorting, Adrien reached behind the mirror of his makeup table and pulled out their markerboard where he’d written, in an elegant script, M&M Mouth Challenge. “You’re on, Couffaine. But you’ll never win, I’m the best at this.”
Juleka arched an eyebrow as she pulled out the clandestine bag of candy from her backpack. “Is that because you have a big mouth?”
“Hey, if you got it,” Adrien winked, “flaunt it.”
(Juleka decided that she would mention that moment in her stories that she shared with the lycee girl group - Marinette would never survive the mental image.)
She shook her head and lobbed the first piece of candy.
~~~
Nathalie peeked her head into the dining room, sighing internally and then smiling to herself as she watched Adrien sitting in his customary place. A textbook was opened in front of him, the fine austere china pushed carefully out of the way, and he flipped pages occasionally as his eyes skimmed the words in front of him. She hated what she was about to have to tell him, although frankly he probably already had figured it out given that the book was on the table in the first place, and the strap of his book bag dangled out from the tablecloth by his feet. She tapped lightly on the doorframe before walking into the dining room.
He looked up at her, his eyes lighting up in recognition and his face creasing into a genuine, crooked smile. "Nathalie!"
He put the book away in his book bag, although she noted with amusement that he didn't bother kicking the bookbag strap out of sight. The amusement tinged with a cold drop of regret falling into the pit of her stomach at what that meant and what she had to tell him. "Adrien, your father --"
"--Won't be joining us." Adrien nodded, the resigned tilt of his smile hurting her more than the sadness he used to show, which she hadn't thought possible at the time.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"It's not your fault," he shrugged. "I'm used to it at this point."
Nathalie walked closer, bypassing her unofficial place at the table whenever Gabriel felt it necessary for her to join them for meals and pulling out the chair beside Adrien. "What were you studying? Physics, or chemistry?"
"Physics today," Adrien answered as the maids floated silently behind them, placing the food in front of them and pouring wine into their glasses. "I've got a test coming soon. Then I can look forward to the explosions."
Nathalie snorted, picking up her napkin before fanning it over her lap. "I don't believe that the explosions are supposed to be happening, Adrien."
"Not technically," Adrien's eyes glittered mischievously as he picked up his own napkin. "But I am studying chemical reactions, I'm just furthering my education."
She snorted again, this time with laughter, and Adrien's crooked grin grew.
~~~
“Take cover!” Ladybug cried, and the heroes split off in all directions. Purple Tigress landed neatly in an alleyway, peering carefully out into the streets as her ears swiveled back to intercept the nearly silent steps behind her.
“Do you think this will work?” She asked, eyes skimming the empty streets for any signs of the Akuma.
“It will,” Chat Noir nodded, sliding his baton out between her and the street protectively. “It always does. Eventually.” He grinned impishly with the last word, the expression both familiar and somewhat at odds with his authoritative stance.
Years had passed since Hawkmoth had begun terrorizing Paris, but Chat Noir’s faith in his Lady remained strong as ever, although Purple Tigress noticed it had become tinged more with growing cynicism rather than the original youthful enthusiasm. But, she supposed that was to be expected - he had been fighting Hawkmoth even longer than she had.
Tigress tilted her head back - not too far back, she was one of the few of the female Miraculous holders who just barely had to look up to meet Chat’s eyes after time had not only broadened his shoulders and tempered his smirk, but almost made him positively tower over Ladybug – and gave him a searching look. “You sure about this?”
Claws tightened around his baton. “Absolutely.”
“Ladybug’s going to kill you,” Tigress crooned, lips twitching at the snort of her fellow feline behind her. “You think they’ll take the bait?”
The crash behind them shook the pavement, sending bricks and cement and a fine dusting of stone forward that nearly caught her in the head as they ducked for cover.
“Yup,” Chat replied nonchalantly as he turned to face the source of the explosion, twitching his ears absently to shake off the dust.
She hadn’t expected the explosion, although perhaps she should have. Nathalie piloted the drone to track where the Akuma had lumbered off to, muttering to herself at the sheer amount of property damage. Would Gabriel fix all of this once he gets the Miraculous? She wondered.
When he’d begun plotting actions to bring his wife back, she’d sympathized with his pain and understood how the power of love could prompt one to extreme measures. But after seeing him abuse and neglect and mistreat not only Paris but his own son, Nathalie wasn’t sure love was what motivated him anymore.
She swallowed hard and continued to track the Akuma.
“Looking for this?” Chat called, wiggling his ringed finger.
Purple Tigress crouched in wait as the Akuma turned its head to look at the waving cat. She felt the power blaze around her claws, trusting Chat’s intuition and lead, although she found it somewhat hard to believe that Shadowmoth would fall for something so obvious.
Of course he’s falling for that, Nathalie groaned to herself as she watched the Akuma lurch towards the Black Cat wielder. The Hawkmoth at the beginning might have seen the trap for what it was, but his desperation had grown consistently as time had passed, clouding Gabriel’s mind and once astute thinking processes. It was an obvious trap, but he was becoming so anxious to get the Miraculous that he didn’t care.
The Akuma rushed forward, rearing back its giant fists in anticipation.
Chat smirked. “Cataclysm!” And dug his glowing claws into the pavement below.
The concrete groaned, crackled, splintered, and the Akuma stumbled. Purple Tigress saw her cue and leapt forward. “Clout!”
She swung the bolas at the end of her belt, ensnaring the Akuma’s upper body, and then punched with all her strength, wedging it firmly in the crushed chasm in the pavement.
Summoned by the sound of chaos, Ladybug landed smoothly in front of the captured Akuma and her eyes skimmed over the scene. She broke the cursed bangle around the Akuma’s forearm and purified the butterfly; as the now-white butterfly fluttered off into the distance, Ladybug began tapping her foot a little. “Chat?”
“Yes, milady?”
“Do you remember when we discussed not using yourself as bait?”
“I’m fine.” Chat held up an arm and flexed to demonstrate. “See?”
Ladybug sighed. “That’s not the point, Chat…”
“We got him trapped, Ladybug,” Chat interjected. “And – ooh, I’m about to transform – be right back!”
Chat shot off into the distance, Ladybug calling out after him. “You better! We’re going to talk about this!” She tossed the black and red spotted boomerang into the sky almost casually, perfunctorily yelling, “Miraculous Ladybug!"
She stooped down to help Tigress get the now-unAkumatized victim to his feet. “Good work, Tigress! Are you all right?”
“I’m good.” Tigress nodded. “And Chat is too – he really wasn’t in danger.”
Ladybug rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I know, I just – I wish he would take better care of himself. He and I really need to –” She sighed at the telltale sound of rushing feet and cluttered voices that typically signified the imminent descent of the press. “But that’ll have to wait. Let’s get Pierre here to the ambulance, and then I’ll have to talk to them. Would you mind checking on Chat?”
Nathalie adeptly twirled the controls of the drone, following the feline superhero as she darted quickly through the streets. Zooming in to focus on Purple Tigress’ face, she could see the superheroine’s nose twitch and ears flicker before she turned deliberately and picked up speed. The knuckles of her fingers whitened at the pressure as she pressed on the controls urging the drone to keep up. She then zoomed ahead, as Purple Tigress suddenly slowed down.
Her senses had only sharpened with time and practice wielding the Miraculous, and she was able to follow Chat Noir’s fading scent throughout the city. In all honesty, the hero was probably fine, but she thought she’d noticed a slight hesitation as he’d launched himself out of sight, possibly from an injured shoulder.
She’d feel better knowing for certain he was all right.
The scent grew stronger, and her ears picked up sounds of crinkling leather and a faint jingling bell. She started to turn the corner, froze, and then flung herself back around the corner, nearly knocking the breath out of her.
She had seen the Black Cat kwami.
She had seen him talking to the Black Cat Miraculous holder.
She had seen him talking to Adrien.
Adrien was Chat Noir.
Nathalie’s mouth fell open and her grip slackened on the controls. Adrien was talking to something that she couldn’t see. He tossed a piece of cheese into the air, which then miraculously disappeared. She saw him startle suddenly before holding his fist out and saying something that she couldn’t hear.
She watched him transform.
Adrien…is Chat Noir?
The controls slid from her nerveless fingers, but she barely registered the sounds as she numbly watched the view from the drone shift from her world shattering to brick walls to the sky and then to thick black lines that she presumed were electric cables before the picture shorted out.
She sat down heavily. What do I do?
Purple Tigress heard Adrien’s stance shift as he heard the dull thud of her back slamming against the side of the building. Her brain whirred and buzzed, thinking of what to do.
She forced her voice to remain calm. “Chat Noir?” She called. “Are you there?”
"Just a minute!” He called back, voice somehow both tense and sagging with relief. “Plagg, Claws Out!”
Instinctively, she shut her eyes, although she had already seen everything – the mantra of our identities must remain secret burned deeply into her brain. At the sound of his running footsteps, she stepped back and tried to look casual, while secretly longing to hide behind her hair like she had often done when she was younger.
“What’s up?” Chat rounded the corner.
Tigress tilted her head to the side. “Ladybug needs you.”
The end of Chat’s tail perked upwards and his smile softened. “Ah. Best get going then.” He stepped forward, then stopped. “Everything okay?”
She nodded, hopefully believably. “Yes, just need to recharge before we meet back up.”
“Do you want me to wait for you?” Chat asked, eyebrows knitting with concern.
“No, that’s okay.” She waved him off. “I’ll be there soon.”
Chat Noir tilted his head to the side, and looked into her eyes. She fought the urge to shut them so he couldn’t see her recognition of him in them and managed a reassuring smile.
It felt plastered on like cheap foundation, but she must have been as good of an actress as she was a model, because he simply nodded and sketched a salute before pole vaulting into the distance.
The magic faded away, and Juleka slid down the wall into a seated position and covered her face with her hands.
Now what do I do?
~~~
Adrien raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he didn’t say anything about how strange it was for Nathalie to be picking him up from university as he slid into the backseat beside her. Tucking the book bag by his feet, he clicked his seatbelt shut and looked back at her, smiling. “Hello, Nathalie. How are you feeling?”
“Well,” Nathalie coughed a little, choking slightly on the sudden lump that formed in her throat, “thank you, Adrien.”
He frowned, the expression reminding her so much of Chat Noir during the first Akuma attempt that the lump became even harder to swallow. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” She smiled. “How was class?”
The calculating frown persisted a few minutes more before softening into a grin. “Really good,” he exclaimed, “I feel like I did pretty well on the test. Although we’ll have to see.” He shrugged sheepishly, and his face overlaid with memories of Chat Noir rubbing the back of his neck when complimented by reporters during interviews.
“Excellent,” Nathalie smiled. “Well done, Adrien.”
Adrien ducked his head a little, pleasure burning red on his cheekbones. “We don’t know for sure yet.”
Years ago, he should have asked hopefully if she thought his father would be pleased too. Now, he settled into a contemplative, relaxed silence.
Frustration roiled in the pit of her stomach – when Gabriel’s plans had first been set into motion, she’d been uneasy at how easily he had set his son aside but had pacified herself that it would be temporary and for the best – soon, father, son, and mother would all be reunited. Respect and affection for her boss had slightly sweetened the bitter pill she had to swallow whenever she saw Adrien’s posture crumple into disappointment when Gabriel became increasingly absent and distant.
(Other feelings might also have developed that she could not speak of that may also have helped her decision to support Hawkmoth.)
But then years had dragged on; Gabriel had grown more neglectful, Hawkmoth had developed into being more destructive, and Adrien had become more resigned to the absence of both parents in his life.
Seeing her boss’ increasing blindness to the sweet, smart young man his son was growing up to be made her sad and frustrated. The neglect he showed made her angry. But now knowing the physical damage he had submitted his son to made her furious.
Adrien shifted and twisted a little in his seat, frustration creasing his forehead.
“Is something the matter, Adrien?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I just have a crick in my shoulders I can’t pop out.”
Three weeks prior, the wind-related Akuma that Gabriel had created had blown tornadoes and hurricanes throughout Paris. She had watched, on three different monitors, three different news channels covering the onslaught and seen the other Miraculous wielders blown in the wind currents, holding to whatever they could, from several angles. Chat Noir had managed to swing in the direction of the currents on the yoyo that Ladybug had thrown and swiped his Cataclysm across the Akumatized object. She could remember the collective wince of the reporters as the hero, propelled by the remaining trajectory of the wind, crashed into the side of the building with an audible crack.
Twenty days prior, Nathalie had had to hastily adjust Adrien’s schedule for a physical exam when he’d had difficulty straightening up when sitting down for breakfast. Once Gabriel had been assured there was no visible damage, he had ceased to be concerned beyond annoyance that the photoshoot had to be pushed back to the evening instead of that afternoon.
Nathalie’s fist tightened to the point of nearly piercing her skin with her nails. A warm, broad hand rested on top of hers and squeezed her hand gently. She looked over in Adrien’s concerned gaze. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need to go rest?”
She had to look up to meet his eyes now. When had he grown up? How much had they missed?
She blinked back the moisture clouding her vision. “I might need to rest after all, but I’m fine.”
Emilie would never have wanted this.
Nathalie patted his hand with her other hand. “It’ll be all right.”
I’ll make sure of it.
~~~
The bell rang over the door as Juleka stepped into the pizza parlor, and she pushed up a little on her toes to look over the crowd.
“Over here!” She heard Rose’s voice pipe over the cacophony of happy late night diners and drinkers, and she beamed as she saw the smaller woman leaning out from a booth and waving energetically at her.
Juleka carefully wound her way through the other tables, and slid into the booth where Rose was patting the space beside her. “Sorry,” she said to the crowd in the booth, “were you waiting too long?”
“Don’t worry,” Rose said, patting her hand.
“Yeah,” Alya smirked from where she sat next to Nino, “you’re not the only one who is fashionably late.”
Nino groaned good-naturedly. “That’s an Adrien-worthy pun, love.”
Alya looked pleased with herself and glanced down the table where Marinette sat next to Mylene, tucking a flyaway hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t that late, Alya!” She laughed.
“Not talking about you, fashionista,” Alya smirked. “We’re still missing one-half of our resident models.”
The bell over the door rang, and a flurry of female voices spiked among the companionable din near the front door. The sound traveled closer to the booth, and then a shadow fell over the table.
Nino smirked and held out a fist. “You’re late, mec.”
“Why are you wearing sunglasses indoors, sunshine?” Alya snarked. “Isn’t that a pretty bad faux pas?”
Sliding his sunglasses up over the top of his head, Adrien smoothly turned to sit next to Marinette, who scooted sideways to make space for him. “Really, Alya,” he gasped dramatically, “that’s not true. I’m on my very best model behavior.”
That elicited a chorus of groans from the table, and Marinette dug an elbow into his ribs, snickering. She’d made a lot of progress from her constant word salad around him, although her ears glowed red – old habits die hard.
The members of the Akuma class had pursued their own lives and careers after lycee, but several of them had stayed in Paris and made a habit of getting together every few weeks to catch up. As so many things had changed, Juleka enjoyed seeing the familiar faces goofing around like kids.
But tonight, she couldn’t focus on Nino’s recounting of his latest DJ gig, Mylene’s story of how Ivan broke up a possible skirmish at her latest rally while patting the blushing man’s hand, or Alya’s enthusiastic gestures as she talked about her latest scoop. Instead, her gaze continued to shift over towards Adrien, who looked far too relaxed to be living a double life.
Nino made some reference to an inside joke the two of them shared, and Adrien tilted his head back, laughing.
The free, unbridled sound reminded her of Chat Noir’s snorts of laughter when he successfully prodded an Akuma’s buttons and managed to dart away in the nick of time. Faintly blue light bathed their table from a hanging glass lamp, and Juleka noticed a small raised line shine silver-blue from a spot on Adrien’s temple to where the shell of his ear began.
Memories of a battle with a very prickly gardening Akuma flitted through her mind. The sharp scent of earth clung to her nostrils as thorny vines shot out of the ground to ensnare them in their embrace. The thorns hurt, even through the magical protection of their suits, and they’d spent most of the battle trying to keep citizens out of harm’s way and getting them to safety. She remembered setting a young man behind a wall when a sharp squeal rent the air and she jerked back to look at the source of the sound.
A little girl, hands covering her face, cried out in fear as the vines lunged for her. Black streaked past where Tigress was and she saw Chat Noir dart forward, scoop the girl into his arms, and smacked the vines away sharply with his baton. The vines went flying away from the girl, but thorns came loose. The child, shielded by Chat Noir’s body, thankfully remained unharmed, but thorns studded the hero’s upper arm, and one had gouged a deep cut just past where his mask protected his face.
Blood dripped down his face, bright red contrasting sharply with the black of his suit and the sandy blond of his hair. Chat Noir smiled at the little girl, whose eyes were watering, and turned his head so she couldn’t see the injury.
“Better make like a tree and leaf, huh?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows, making the child giggle and nod. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”
They’d fought brambles late into the evening, making the next day’s early morning call a nightmare to wake up for. Adrien had come in before her, and she’d come in to him carefully dabbing makeup on the side of his face.
“Early start today?” Juleka had yawned. “Didn’t want to wait for the artists?”
“Don’t tell them,” he had joked, wincing at the thought of their wrath and he finished blending the color at his temple. “I’d never survive.”
Maybe it wasn’t fear that had made him wince.
It hadn’t felt good seeing her teammate get hurt, but she’d compartmentalized it as being part of the job. But somehow, knowing that he was also her friend out of costume made it worse.
She remembered all the risks he took on a regular basis and shuddered at the sudden coldness running down her spine.
Rose squeezed her arm. “Juleka? Are you okay?”
Juleka blinked back the memories and noticed everyone looking at her. Her brother, far too perceptive with everyone but especially with her, looked searchingly at her from where he’d been discussing music with Nino. Adrien tilted his head like a quizzical cat, and she remembered the jerking movement he’d made as blood had run down his face.
“Just hungry,” she half-laughed. “Shoot ran through lunch. Right, Adrien?”
“Yes,” he groaned. “They worked us like dogs.”
His flippant, melodramatic tone clashed with the note of concern in his gaze. She tried not to look like she was avoiding his eyes, while feeling the slight staccato of Luca’s fingers thrumming against the tabletop, no doubt composing the mental fugue she was experiencing.
“Dogs on the catwalk,” she laughed, and then fortunately the waitress came by, causing the conversation to turn to the menu.
Keeping this secret was going to be harder than she thought.
~~~
Another day, another Akuma.
Purple Tigress leapt and pounced up to a good, high visual point, scanning the surrounding areas for any civilians that needed to be evacuated before dealing with the Akuma itself. The streets looked pretty clear - Akuma attack drills were becoming so common that the city’s citizens were generally very efficient at taking cover.
“Keep an eye out for Mayura,” Ladybug cautioned through Tigress’ Miraculous. “Apparently there’s been sightings of her.”
That was…strange. The female wielder of the Peacock Miraculous had only been seen sparingly even when she’d been assisting Hawkmoth, and never since Juleka had received her own Miraculous. Mayura had either retired or been fired, leaving Hawkmoth down one partner in crime and up one very tacky downgrade in costume.
Maybe I should give him M. Agreste’s business card, she snorted to herself.
An explosion reverberated through the empty streets and Tigress jumped in the direction of the sound.
Convincing Gabriel to let her wield the Peacock Miraculous had been surprisingly easy. Her analysis of the battles had proven invaluable in the past when developing pans, and observing from the sidelines was insufficient – she had only to cite the destruction of the drone and the unfortunate loss of all the recorded footage to prove her point.
She watched dispassionately as Gabriel tried to get the Miraculous with an even more ill-thought-out plan. He wasn’t getting any closer to his goal, but the other Miraculous holders weren’t getting much closer to apprehending him either as he continued to sequester himself from the world, from his actions, from reality.
So many people got hurt because of his selfishness. How many more would before this would come to an end?
How much more would Adrien–?
This needed to stop.
In the distance, she heard a loud crash and saw ladybugs flying around her. She figured that Gabriel would be struggling with the lack of the Peacock Miraculous’ power, but the speed of his defeat surprised her a little. That gave her less time to find Adrien and do…something.
Admittedly her plan lacked the usual deliberation that went into most of her decisions, but there were so many unknown factors. And, her emotions might have gotten the best of her.
But there was no time for self-recrimination – it was time for action.
She traveled swiftly to where she’d heard the explosion.
Magical ladybugs ruffled Tigress’ ponytail as they flew past, repairing everything in their path. She began making her way to the rendezvous point when she heard Adrien’s voice. She slowed down and turned toward the sound of his voice, intent on asking what had happened.
Perching on the edge of a roof, Tigress looked down into the alley where she’d heard him. She nearly called out to him, but then realized he was untransformed and joking with Plagg, and stopped herself.
The identities must remain secret, she reminded herself, and tucked herself out of sight. She took a deep breath and let the buzzing of nerves in her ears settle, waiting for him to transform so she could approach him.
And then she saw her.
Mayura felt the skirt of her dress flutter in the breeze as she landed on the roof. She looked down at where Adrien was speaking with his kwami and felt a smile twist at the corner of her mouth. Now that she was here, she wasn’t sure what to say. She stood in silence, processing what she was watching, and then heard a hiss. Looking up, she saw Purple Tigress glaring at her, her belt-tail snapping angrily behind her.
Green and black magic filled the alley between them, but neither moved for a long, deliberate moment.
Tigress then stalked slowly around the edge of the roof, as though trying not to spook Mayura. Both pairs of eyes watched the other closely as she moved deliberately towards the older woman. Mayura’s fingers flexed on the feathers on her fan, and Tigress clenched her claws around the bolas of her tail.
Tigress bent at her knees and sprang across the space between them. Her fingers flexed in anticipation, but didn’t call her power - yet. “You saw,” she hissed, her ears flattening.
Mayura shifted an eyebrow upwards almost imperceptibly, impressed despite herself. The younger woman hadn’t immediately gone on attack, but didn’t beat around the bush either. Her grip shifted on her fan. “Yes.”
“What,” Tigress allowed a small growl to sneak into her voice, “are you going to do now?”
Ideas clicked and whirred in Mayura’s brain, moving smoothly into place with grim satisfaction. “I have an idea.”
Tigress began spinning her bolas in her hand. “If you hurt him…”
Mayura fluttered her fan. “I won’t. Naturally.”
“Naturally” seemed a bit far-fetched, given that it was said by their enemy’s right hand. But Tigress’ accusation seemed to ruffle Mayura’s feathers, even as her face remained cool and impassive. Despite herself, Tigress believed the other woman.
She let the bolas slide smoothly from her hand, but kept her knuckles flexed in anticipation. “Then what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to finish this,” Mayura answered cryptically. “But I’ll need your help.”
Tigress peered critically into the pale blue face, looking for deception, a trap, anything that would indicate this was a mistake…She gritted her teeth. “And why would you keep this secret? Why should I trust you?”
Mayura closed her eyes. Good girl. What she was about to do was a gamble, but no more than many of the decisions she’d made over the past decade. “I’ll show you.” She closed her fan decisively. “Duusu, fall my feathers.”
~~~
Tigress shifted from where she crouched in the darkness of the underground chamber beneath Adrien’s house. She felt skittish, and shifted her gaze around the room, trying to drain some of the nervous energy without losing focus. Her eyes caught and held on the glass coffin at the end of the room, and she shuddered.
“That’s why?” She’d whispered to Nathalie even when she knew that M. Agre-Shadowmoth had been scheduled all the way across town and couldn’t hear them.
“Yes,” the other woman nodded grimly, a faint wince of sorrow flitting across her face, as she looked at the coffin. “He wanted her back,” she coughed bitterly, “at the cost of everything else.”
A lot of protocols had been tossed out of the window for Tigress to be here. She’d had to convince Ladybug to let her keep her Miraculous just a bit longer.
“I have an emergency,” she’d pleaded, which wasn’t a lie, “so I’ll have to give it back later.”
“Okay…” Ladybug had sounded a little confused on the other end of the communicator but hadn’t pushed. “Promise you’ll only use it for the greater good?”
Her tone was half-joking, half-puzzled, but Juleka had been all-serious. “I promise.”
“I’d feel better telling Ladybug,” she’d admitted once the shock of seeing Adrien’s father’s assistant detransform and calmly outline Shadowmoth’s destruction had worn off.
“We can’t,” Mayura said bluntly. “He’s constantly on the lookout for her, she’d only draw attention. For a better hope of a surprise attack, we need to be as low profile as possible.”
She’d had to team up with a supervillain.
“Why haven’t you stopped him before? Why do you need me?”
Nathalie coughed again, a deeper hacking cough that caused her knees to buckle. She waved off Tigress’ approach. “I’m not strong enough. Wielding the Miraculous is almost too much for me, now. I don’t have the physical strength to subdue anyone anymore. And,” disgust soured her expression, “I might hesitate. A moment’s hesitation could be disastrous.”
And, she didn’t tell Ladybug what she was doing.
“But why now? Can we at least tell Adrien? It wouldn’t be suspicious for him to be here–”
“No!” Nathalie barked, and then looked astonished at her own outburst. “He is loyal to Ladybug, he’d feel like she needed to know. And,” a pain deeper than the one elicited by the coughing fit creased her face, “this will already hurt him so much. I can’t bear to cause him any more pain that I have to.”
The gears in the secret elevator began to groan, and Tigress curled up tighter in her hiding place, muscles ready to spring at a moment’s notice. Feathers fluttered faintly in the air somewhere in the gloom across the chamber.
Gabriel Agreste stepped out of the elevator as the doors slid open, and began walking contemplatively, almost reverently, towards the glass coffin. Tigress gritted her teeth against the growl as she watched the terrorist move without any guilt on his face from what he’d done. The magic burned beneath her skin in readiness, but she shoved it down and waited.
The terrorist of Paris stopped halfway through the room and removed his glasses. He methodically polished them against the fog from the chill that permeated the room, and then replaced them. Taking a step forward, he looked ahead - and froze.
Emilie was there.
Not in the coffin, no. She was walking towards him, arms stretched wide, the fine white linen of her suit sleeves fanning in her wake. “You’re here,” she murmured.
Gabriel stumbled a little. “Yes,” he gasped, “and you are - you are here. With me.”
Emilie smiled. “So it would seem.” She beckoned with her arms. “Why are you so far away?”
He staggered forward, arms outstretched as though he were sleepwalking. “I can’t believe it’s really - it’s been so long–”
“Too long,” she nodded. “This has gone on for too long.” She stepped forward. “Hold me, please.”
That spurred Gabriel into action, and he hurried toward her. “Yes, I’ve wanted nothing more than to–”
His arms enfolded her, and his heart and mind stopped. She did not feel like Emilie, did not feel like warm flesh and soft skin – she felt cold and stiff as marble, and wispy and ethereal as air at the same time. She felt wrong.
And now, now that he finally had her in his arms, he could see over her shoulder. He could see Emilie’s body, undisturbed in the coffin.
He choked. “What-?”
“Now!” A voice rang authoritatively, and the Emilie in his arms dissolved into nothingness. He nearly fell to the ground, knees buckling, and the Amok was no longer there to support him as he crumpled.
Pink and purple darted in front of him, and the wind whistled past him as cords wrapped around him and sent him sprawling to the ground, dull heavy weights hitting him in the back as he fell.
Gabriel was rolled over roughly, and he looked up into the angry gaze of the Tiger Miraculous holder. “You? How did you?”
Her fist gleamed with power and she punched hard into the floor by his head, peppering him with dust. “No, you don’t get to ask questions. You don’t deserve the answers.”
“No,” agreed the voice from the shadows, “he doesn’t.”
Tigress yanked Gabriel up, and he sagged with shock in his bindings as Nathalie, now untransformed and limping, walked into the light towards them. “But,” Nathalie continued, “old habits die hard, I suppose.”
She leaned down and looked in her former employer’s face. “It was me. I let her in.” With as much dignity as she could muster, she straightened up and looked down her nose at Gabriel before turning to Tigress. “Please call Ladybug. Tell her everything.”
Purple Tigress lifted Agreste over her shoulder, noting with some satisfaction how small and insignificant the man felt now. “Everything?”
Nathalie nodded. “Everything.”
Gabriel slumped silently in the hero’s hold, quelled by shock and persistent glow of power in her claws. “How,” he finally managed to say as they stepped into the elevator, Tigress taking care to bump his head into the side of the car as she turned, “how could you do this to me? How could you do this to Adrien?”
Both women stiffened, and then Nathalie smiled down at her, the expression heavy with resignation and disgust and pity. “You fool,” she snorted, “I’m doing this for him.”
The elevator doors shut, and they were sent upwards into the light.