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Marinette’s desk was covered in more fabric than Adrien had pictured. Far, far more.
“Um,” she said, overwhelmed, unsure where to start.
“They’re all feather-free, of course! So? What’s your favorite?” Marinette asked, bouncing to her feet. When Adrien failed to do more than stare at the pile, wide-eyed, Marinette took it upon herself to help, tugging a bolt of cloth out. “I’m definitely partial to softer pinks, but I don’t think they’re really your color. But you should try everything once! Or…” She shoved that one back in and tugged out another, this time something a deep blue with a constellation-like print. “If you like patterns, maybe something like this?”
“I’m not sure,” Adrien said, trying to slow Marinette down a little. “This is my first time doing anything like this.”
“Oh! Of course,” said Marinette, backing off with her hands in the air - until she frowned. “Your first time? Haven’t you had custom clothes made for you all the time?”
Adrien ran a hand through her hair. “Well, sure, but… For one thing, those weren’t for me. Those were…” She glanced at one of the older pictures of herself on Marinette’s pinboard, wearing the same old white jacket and jeans she’d wear every day. “Those were for him.”
“For the old you?”
Shaking her head, Adrien coughed. “For my father. For… for Gabriel Agreste’s ideal son.”
Marinette’s lips formed, but didn’t voice, a gentle “oh”. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Instinctively, Adrien waited, on guard, for a bad reaction. But when Marinette finally replied, she wasn’t quite as cheerful, but she was calm. “Sorry to throw you in the deep end, then! I… might have overdone the online ordering when you asked about trying a skirt. How about we start by sticking to colors you know?”
“Yeah, let’s do that.” Adrien stepped forward towards the mountain. She was nervous to grab any of the bolts out. How had Marinette done so without toppling the entire pile? “Maybe… something with green?”
“Sure, I have a green here that’s pretty Chat Noir chic if you want. Hold on…” Marinette fished behind a few bolts and tugged it, but it seemed like it was stuck. Marinette retrieved her hand, sighing.
“Let me try,” said Adrien, instinctively, never mind the fact that she was scared of sending yards of cloth flying herself. Still, she reached in, trying to find the green fabric in the back.
Only, she got distracted on the way there. She paused. Her hand was rubbing up against a fabric next to it that felt simply lovely against her skin. Something softer than anything she usually wore. Anything she usually could.
“Is it still stuck?” Marinette asked, looking a little worried.
“No, it's…” Gathering some courage, Adrien made a decision, and retrieved the soft material instead. What she came out with was a soft cream color. Something like silk or satin, though she wasn’t sure what or which.
Marinette’s eyes lit up. “Do you like it?”
“I… might?” She ran her hand across the material. “This texture… It’s even better than my pillowcase.”
“Do you have a silk pillowcase? Actually, don’t answer that question,” Marinette said, promptly taking the bolt from Adrien’s hands. She flipped it over, looking at a piece of cardboard folded into it. “I can definitely work with this. Yeah. Maybe a nice midi length…”
Adrien couldn’t help being a little amused. Marinette never seemed to realize when she went into designer mode and forgot herself. “That’s a little below the knee, right?”
“Yeah. I think it’ll suit you - you’ve always looked good in neutrals, actually, especially with one or two subtle color highlights.”
“Are midis even in style right now?”
Marinette looked up with a fierce, brilliant smile, like the one she’d given Adrien when she’d finally come out to her. “This one will be.”
Adrien believed her.
Some weeks later, Adrien, fresh off a comfortable day in her cream skirt from Marinette and a knit sweater that would have given her father hives, transformed into Chat Noir without thinking.
She didn’t notice until they were already in action, fighting an akumatized victim. Chat Noir struck the monster’s snout with her Cataclysm, grinning.
Ladybug followed up, swinging past her. “Nice hit, cutie!”
That was a new one. Chat Noir looked at her, curious. “Cutie?”
“Have you seen yourself?” Ladybug shouted, winking as she dodged the swipe of a massive claw.
When Chat Noir looked down, she understood. She’d transformed in her usual outfit, with one key detail very much changed: instead of the unadorned bodysuit, she looked as though she was wearing a stylish, feminine cut leather jacket with a flowy satin miniskirt, her belt slung loosely just above it.
Instinctively, she dodged another incoming hit. As she leaped up, she extended her baton to catch herself, vaulting around and over the monster’s wings. Chat Noir shouted, “Do you like it?”
“It’s perfect!” said Ladybug, spinning her yo-yo to fend off fiery breath.
Alya, on the ground with her camera, groaned audibly. “Stop flirting and finish this fight already!”
“Fine, fine,” said Chat Noir. She wondered if Alya would want an interview afterward. She already knew the Ladyblogger would ask if the outfit change was permanent.
And, feeling the gentle swish of her skirt as she flew through the air, she already knew her answer.