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Marinette isn't sure how, but not even half an hour into Chloé’s birthday party afterparty, she's lost not only her girlfriend, but their boyfriend too. She’d been temporarily distracted by one of Monsieur Gabriel's associates' sons, and now that the informalities were through, she's missing a girlfriend and a boyfriend each.
She calls them both, but only gets dial tones in response. She knew she added usable pockets to Lila's dress, but for a moment she worries if the skirt was too fluffed out for Lila to notice her phone vibrating. Then, she considers Lila’s present state of inebriation, and figures Lila might be too drunk to still have her phone on her. The designer mutes her exasperation and begins scouring the sizeable Bourgeois estate for wherever the hell her lovers have absconded to.
It takes a dozen rounds of “Have you seen Lila or Adrien?” for her to give up on finding them and go back to socializing. Certainly, wherever they are, they’re enjoying themselves. Marinette allows a colleague to draw her into casual conversation, and briefly sets aside the status of her girlfriend and boyfriend.
The conversation lasts about half an hour, when there’s a commotion from the far end of the lounge. Marinette has barely looked up from the discussion on Madame Agreste’s new jewellery line when a mass of green tumbles into her lap, and drapes their arms over her shoulders.
She has to shut down her initial instinct of throwing the person off of her and pinning them to the ground, because she’s technically still in public, the person isn’t visibly belligerent, and god damn it Marinette, not everyone is out to get you.
But also because, after a few mumbles of what Marinette deciphers as Italian, Marinette realises that, under the mass of hair that’s mingling with brown bangs, it’s Lila who's sat down in her lap.
A second later, Adrien appears from a gaggle of partygoers.
“Marinette, Lila!” His hair is a little messy, and his face is red from what Marinette thinks is a combination of alcohol, and chasing after their errant datemate. He stops, watching Lila shift in Marinette’s lap and press her hands against the designer’s cheeks. Her dress doesn’t help the maybe mutual feeling of discomfort, though Marinette has a feeling it’s already ripped in one place or the other.
A smooth, finely manicured hand nearly pokes her eye out. She meets Lila’s bleary olive eyes. Somehow, her makeup is still perfectly neat, even if her hair has fallen out of its bun and is curling over her left shoulder.
“You’re cute,” Lila says bluntly, caressing the side of Marinette’s face. Marinette tries to smile in response.
“You’re cute, too,” she says automatically. She looks up to Adrien, who’s catching his breath and shaking his head slowly. The friends she’d been talking to prior give her matching looks of amusement and bemusement from aside. She returns to Lila, and asks, “Where were you?”
“Where were you?” Lila giggles, and her head tilts to the left, and she squishes Marinette’s cheeks and leans in. Lila’s a very handsy drunk, they’ve both learned. “Where have you been all my life?” Her eyes are gleaming, and she’s smiling adorably, yet goofily.
“Sitting on this couch,” Marinette replies slowly, as Adrien joins them on the couch, careful not to sit on Lila’s left foot. Though, her heel would probably hurt him more than he’d hurt her. “I was looking for you two.”
“Who two?” Lila asks.
Marinette turns her head, and Lila’s hands, to Adrien. Lila follows, slowly, and her puzzled expression morphs into a gleeful grin that hits Marinette and Adrien with a tsunami of déjà vu.
“So is everyone here super hot, or am I just really lucky?” Lila asks, dropping her hands at last. She shifts, narrowly avoids stabbing Marinette’s in the thigh with her stiletto, and somehow lies over both their laps, her head in Adrien’s, waist by Marinette’s, and her legs dangle over the armrest.
“I wouldn’t say – luck has anything to do with it,” Adrien says, voice dropping out for a split second as Lila begins to poke at his face for a change. Marinette resigns herself to resting a hand on Lila’s thigh, and sharing a Look with Adrien.
Lila hums, and grabs at Marinette’s hand. Marinette prepares to pull her hand off Lila’s leg, but the brunette instead takes hold of it and tugs at Adrien’s shoulder with her free one. Eventually, Adrien gets the idea and surrenders his own hand. Lila holds to them both between hers, over her chest. Marinette tries not to linger on the fact that she’s losing feeling in her legs.
“Hey,” Lila begins, staring up at the ceiling now.
“Yeah?” Marinette and Adrien say in unison. Lila giggles.
“Your accents are so adorable,” she says, pressing her hands, and, by extension, Marinette’s right hand and Adrien’s left hand, together. Marinette’s suddenly glad she convinced them to wear their rings on necklaces instead of on their fingers, or else there could be some jewelled indents forming in their palms.
“Thank you,” Adrien replies, ever so cheerful. Marinette laughs through her nose.
“But that wasn’t what I wanted to say,” Lila says, drawing out the last word petulantly. She squeezes their hands together again.
“Okay,” Marinette says, “What is it?”
“Come closer,” Lila says, looking between them with a glimmer in her eye.
Adrien and Marinette share another look. Adrien gives in first, and ducks his head closer to Lila’s. Marinette manages to lean over to her right, and pressing her head against the front of Adrien’s shoulder.
Their shadows fall over Lila’s face, but they can see her smiling. Then:
“Savez-vous que chuis moitié-canard?”
Marinette straightens, and nearly takes her neck out on Adrien’s arm.
“You’re what?”
“I’m half-duck,” Lila repeats, beaming.
“You mean… moitié-renard? Like… half-fox?” Marinette grasps for some sort of sensibility. If Lila suddenly has an affixion with an animal, maybe it’s with the symbol of her akumatised self?
“No,” Lila says, matter-of-factly. “Duck.”
“Okay,” Adrien nods sagely. “Okay. You’re half-duck.”
“Yep.” Lila appears to be proud of the ‘fact’.
Or maybe Lila’s referring to Pavonessa. Ducks were birds. Peacocks were birds. Close enough, right?
“I’m also half-Klingon.” Lila chirps.
Okay, Marinette thinks, we'll go with that.
“Don’t Klingons have a thing against lying?” She asks.
Lila tries to shrug again, and presses the palms of their hands against either side of her face. Marinette’s arm is dangerously close to bending in ways its not supposed to. Adrien is chuckling.
“It’s not a mandatory thing.” Lila says. “And I don’t make up everything.”
“I’m sure there’s some leeway for half-truths,” Adrien says.
“You don’t even watch Star Trek.” Marinette smiles, still. Lila parts the fingers of each of their hands so she can link her own through them both.
“Nino and Chloé dragged me out to a convention once,” Adrien says. “It was an experience.”
“You know what else could be an experience?” Lila’s smile turns concerning. She drops their hands and tries to sit up.
Tries to being the key word. She can’t manage the strength, and so grabs onto Marinette. Marinette, however, isn’t expecting it, and so ends up oddly bent over Lila’s chest, and Adrien has one-point-five of his girlfriends in his lap.
“I change my mind,” Lila says, patting Marinette’s hair. “We need a bigger couch first.”
“This isn’t even our couch,” Marinette tries to say, but Lila begins to pet her hair insistently. “This isn’t even our house!”
“Guys, I love you both, I don’t really mind this arrangement, but I can’t feel my legs anymore,” Adrien says.
“Someone needs to carry me, then.” Lila whines.
“I can’t carry anyone if I can’t walk, Lila.”
“Marinette could carry me.”
“I’m losing feeling in my legs, too.”
Lila groans at them, releases Marinette’s hair, and rolls off of them and the couch. Lila crashes onto the floor, but she sits up on the hardwood, perfectly fine, and rests her arms and head onto their touching knees.
“jIDoy',” Lila mumbles.
“What?” Adrien asks. Marinette frowns.
“I think that’s Klingon for ‘I’m tired’.”
Lila nods against their thighs.
“Uh…” Adrien stalls. “Coin?”
It’s Lila’s turn to “What?” and Marinette raises her eyebrows at Adrien.
“If you’re half-duck, then you’d get duck-speak, right?”
Marinette slaps her forehead with her palm, but Lila laughs.
“You mean qua,” she says, “what the fuck is coin?”
“It’s the sound a duck makes!”
“That just sounds like you’re tryna say ‘couronne’ with a mouthful of baguette.”
“Because qua sounds so much better?”
“Bite me, model boy,” Lila challenges. Marinette scowls.
“Do not actually bite her,” Marinette says, pre-emptively. Lila laughs against their legs, and Adrien chuckles.
“I said ‘fight me’,” Lila repeats, then raises her eyebrows, “But if there’s anything you wanna say, Mari–”
Marinette gets up, so Lila shuffles over to rest her head on Adrien’s lap. Marinette discards her heels, tosses them onto the couch, and picks Lila up bridal style. The brunette yelps, and clings to Marinette’s neck.
“Wait – Wait – Where are we going?!” Lila asks, as Marinette shifts her grip and turns. A few people give them passing glances. Bless Marinette’s luck, Adrien thinks, stumbling to his feet. He picks up Marinette’s heels, and follows as Marinette heads out of the room.
Marinette grits out, “juH.”
“’Home’?” Adrien guesses.
Lila giggles.
“Qua.”
“You’re dead to me.”
“Coin?”
“You’re both dead to me.”