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A scream – or a squeal rather – woke the whole house up.
“It's snoooowing!” 8-year-old Adrien Agreste yelled, his squeaky voice amplified by the large marble hall, hurting the adults' eardrums.
“Adrien, what's wrong?”
“Mom, mom!” Tiny feet almost tripped over the too-large cat pajama as he ran up to where his mother peeked out of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes. Adrien took her hand to guide her to the windows in front. “Look how much snow!”
Emilie exchanged a look with Nathalie at her own bedroom, and indeed, a blanket of snow covered the city of Paris. No cars and a few pedestrians; everyday life had come to a halt. On the other side of the river, a bunch of kids built snowmen on Pont au Change, Adrien saw with exciting eyes.
“Can you and dad go outside with me? Pleeeaaase?”
“Your dad is working...,” a curse from downstairs caused Emilie to correct herself, “...or not.”
“I'll ask him!” And gone was the blonde mop, his rapid steps vanishing into the study.
In their pajamas, Nathalie followed Emilie downstairs, where Adrien eagerly awaited the end of his father's phone call.
“...yes, of course. I understand. Please inform me of any changes. Thank you.” Gabriel sighed stressfully when he put the phone away.
“What's wrong, dad?” But Nathalie already had a clue.
“With the roads closed, I can't get to the very important meeting at the company.” He picked up Adrien, who started to giggle. “But the junior designers can't come either.”
“So you have time to play in the snow?” Adrien's big green eyes lit up in anticipation.
“I suppose I do.” He confirmed, rubbing his son's head. That he still had that conference with the Milan office in the afternoon, he didn't bring up.
“Yay!” Adrien looked at the women standing in the doorframe. “And can Nathalie come, too?”
Gabriel looked at her as he said, “It's her free day. She can decide what to do with it.”
Nathalie's eyes flickered between Gabriel and Adrien, and when she felt Emilie's hand on her shoulder as silent persuasion, she had no other choice than, “of course, Adrien.”
“Thanks!” Adrien ran off. “I'll wait outside!”
“Stop!” All adults yelled in unison, and Emilie continued. “Put on your snow clothes first.”
With that, the boy in bare feet waddled back to his room as Gabriel, Emilie, and Nathalie also put on their warm clothing. It had been at least one or two years since they had actual snowfall – thanks to global warming – so it took them a while to find their snow-worthy accessories.
Not Adrien, though. He was already out in the front yard, romping around like a little dog. Nathalie finished putting her gloves on when there were several attempts of snow angels and something that looked like it was supposed to be a dwarfy snowman.
Over 20 centimeters of white powder rested on the railing of the main stairs. Last time they had seen this much snow was when they had to dig through it in search of the Miraculous. Nine years ago.
“Dad, can you help me with the snowman?” Adrien shouted, his attention back on the deformed Oompa-Loompa.
“Oh- uh,” Gabriel looked at his bare hands. “I don't have gloves.”
“But you're a fashion designer! How can you not have gloves?” Fair point, Nathalie snickered behind him.
“I never needed them.” After he had forgotten his last pair at the monastery in Tibet, he simply hadn't gotten new ones.
“Can't you just sew some real quick?” Children and their concept of time.
“That's not how it- oh, thank you, Nathalie.” Handing him her gloves since they had almost the same hand size, he worried, “won't your hands be cold?”
“I think I burned most of my sensory nerves at a fire festival in Brazil. I'll be fine.” Moreover, Nathalie was one of those people with constantly cold limbs; it didn't matter.
They watched Gabriel trying to save the snowman's dignity by adding some sticks and stones when Emilie scooted closer. “Don't worry, dear.” She intertwined her hand with Nathalie's and placed them in her pocket. “I'll keep you warm.”
Surprised, Nathalie found Emilie's jacket really warm, as it had a heating pack inside. “You still have those?”
“Yes, they're amazing!” She grinned up at the taller woman. “You just press the button and watch the liquid turn milky. Who thought of that?”
“Someone with cold hands?” Nathalie retorted to the stupid question, and Emilie grabbed on, instantly preparing karma for sassiness. Smirking, she smushed a pile of snow from the railing into Nathalie's neck, making her retreat into the scarf as melted snow started running down her back. “Hey!” Jubilantly, the blonde woman ran away. “Oh, you just wait!”
Nathalie leaped down the stairs, tackling Emilie into the soft bed of snow while making no move to get off her. “Nathalie!” She protested with a smirk, “that's unfair, you know.”
Returning the expression, Nathalie – stronger and taller – felt cocky. “I do know.”
“Mom, Nathalie, I wanna play too!” Adrien interrupted by flopping onto them, all collapsing like a pile of human laundry. He rolled in the middle. “Will you have a snowball fight with me?”
“Sure, Adrien,” his mother said.
“But a special one! I invented it myself.” He seemed extra proud, and Nathalie couldn't wait to hear another messy game with Adrien throwing in new rules every other minute so he would win.
“What's the rules then?” Emilie came to stand and brushed the snow off her, while Gabriel had given up on saving the poor snowman.
“It's kinda like the tag game Chloe showed Felix and me. It's called 'Knights and Princesses.'” Sounded exactly like a Chloe thing. “Once you're tagged – or well, hit by a snowball – you're a princess, and you gotta freeze. Then a knight has to awaken you by giving you a kiss on the cheek. You understand?”
Some deep, deep school memories came up. The adults nodded.
“Okay, great! I'm the dragon first!” Adrien started rolling up snowballs while the rest made a show of running away screaming. He was fast, but for a child with a basketball hoop in his room, he had horrible aiming skills. Only when he hid behind the staircase was he able to land a hit directly in his father's face. “Haha, you're a princess now.”
Excited – and idiotic – as he was, Adrien targeted Nathalie next. Snow flew left and right from her, and while she made no effort to dodge his attacks, he only hit her once he stood like two meters away.
“Oh, no!” Nathalie pretended to be hurt. “The dragon attacked me! Quick, I need a strong knight to save me!”
“I'm here, my beloved princess!” Emilie stepped through the snow. “I will be your knight in shining armor.”
Adrien was busy refilling his snowball ammo, so he watched the play scene unfolding in front of him.
“I free you from your curse.” Emilie kissed her cheek. “Free, free, free!” Emilie did it again and again until they both couldn't contain their giggles.
“Ew, mom, stop!” Adrien laughed. “Nathalie's already free!”
“One more!” She pressed a big fat smooch on Nathalie's face. “Mwah! There, now she's good.”
While Adrien found it hilarious, Nathalie tried to rub Emilie's lipstick off her face making it even worse. She looked over to Gabriel, very smugly knowing exactly how resistant that lipstick was. A bit of snow however worked wonders, and Gabriel's face fell as he learned something that could've saved him years of embarrassing marks.
With Emilie now distracting her son, Nathalie had the chance to free Gabriel with a peck on his prominent cheekbones.
“My wife was right. You do have very soft lips.” Blushing, she turned away.
“Mom, dad, I'm hungry.” With an empty stomach, Adrien's energy quickly drained, and he was getting moody again. “Can we play in the afternoon again?”
Nathalie and Emilie looked at Gabriel, he noticed, so he waited for an answer from there. “I'm sorry, Adrien. Daddy has to work later. You might want to ask Chloe? I'm sure she'll be happy to play with you.”
“But her kisses are always so wet!” The boy protested with a grimace.
“That's because she likes you so much, dear,” sweetly, his mother explained.
With the realization dawning, his eyes widened. “Is that why you always kiss dad and Nathalie?”
“Yes,” Emilie looked at her husband putting an arm around her waist, then over to Nathalie. Her eyes sparkled when she said, “I like them very much.”
And after all these years, Nathalie's heart still leaped at these small words of affection, validating that she did have a purpose. Her place in this family was – she always made sure of that – to assist, protect, and love. As best as she could. For nothing in this world would Nathalie trade Emilie's infecting happiness able to light up a whole group, Gabriel's pleased gaze glowing from under his brown bangs where the snow had dissolved the hair gel, and Adrien's pure joy shining as bright as his freezing-red nose.
To the public, she was the personal assistant; to the Agrestes, she was Nathalie. In whatever shape and form that might be. And even though things weren't always perfect, she lived a miracle she never deserved.
She would do anything for this family. Enable the tiny person in the cat scarf the best future. And alongside his parents, watch him grow into the wonderful young man he was ought to be. Free to decide his own destiny, make friends, and fall in love – with anyone but Chloe.
Hell, Nathalie would burn the city down to ensure his happiness. Come to it, she would die for him. She wasn't his mother, but she took care of him like one.
Adrien would be just fine.
… after breakfast.
“If you won't play with me later, can I have pancakes then, please?”
“I don't see why not. If your dad makes them?” Big puppy dog eyes looked from his mother to his father, who gave in, tousling his son's blonde mop.
“But only a spoon of syrup, or you'll get a bad stomach again.”
Ignoring Gabriel, the boy ran off to the kitchen. “My tummy will be fine!”
He sighed and turned to the rest of the family, who were busy getting snow off each other's clothes. “We better check on Adrien before he drowns himself in syrup.”